Burns Night

Suddenly, I’ve realised it’s Burns Night tonight, and I’ve no haggis in the fridge.

This shouldn’t be too much of a shock – I’ve never got any haggis in the fridge.

But generally I don’t feel bad about it, tonight, Burns Night, is the one night I would concieve of having haggis in the fridge. Maybe not a fresh one. Maybe a vegetarian one (cons: not authentic, pros: not unidentifiable innards in a bag). Or maybe a real one, just for the hell of it.

But no, there is no haggis in the fridge, meat or not, so it’s a moot point. Anyway. It’s Tuesday, which is traditionally junk food night in The Little Flat.

Maybe we could order a Haggis Pizza.

From Papa Jock’s.

Or Pizza Hoots.

Or Dinnaenaw’s.


I suspect that is a joke for Boose and, possibly, no one else.