The love potion you made tastes terrible. How will you drink it?
Intravenous, but that sounds terrible. I'm not a druggie. Pay someone to drink it for me?
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What would you do, standing on the edge of a road, a rusty missile flying past you? The wind hits your face. A blur. All you hear is: Get Down!!! Sorry, what? Don't worry boet, be happy. This is a translation of life, albeit a weird one.
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2 comments:
Hello my boy, Your mother and your granny have read this so watch what you say!!!
Love mom
you'd better watch out!
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