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Friday the 16th - 12:20 p.m.


I've always been treated like a rock star at blood drives.

I'm type B negative and I guess that's pretty rare. I was once told that less than two percent of the population has the B negative blood type. So, when I go to blood drives and tell them I'm B negative, they always lick my boots, kiss my ass, and give me anything I want short of a blowjob.

It sure beats the hell out of a cookie and some orange juice.

What does this have to do with anything? Well, the police detective today told me that the only fingerprints they found in my apartment were mine and that the dried blood on my television screen is type B negative.

I told them it could have come from my nose because it has been bleeding a lot lately, but they seemed to ignore that suggestion and swabbed my mouth for DNA.

Then they took a zillion photographs of the cut on my right hand.

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