Call me when you invent a tricorder like device that allows me to detect women with that particular gene at the most crowded mall on Christmas Eve or put that into pill form because this news isn't helping me at all until you do either of those things. And if you are a girl with that gene trapped on a Ukrainian potato farm, I am saving up postage to have you shipped over. Don't give up on our love, Katya.
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2 comments:
Wow, check out THOSE Ukrainian potatoes! :P
Only the finest spuds for MY french fry. Hey we could do an act. That was a funny bit.
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