|Attention Windu: Asking me "Look infected to you, this does?" please stop! Tried to be polite I have, but take it anymore I can not! Getting gross it is now.|
That pop the thing already, you would, I wish. Kill you, it will not. Bleed that much it can not. But quit picking at it you must. Worse, scratching makes it.
And showing it to company and anyone else you meet, please please stop. Embarrass me at last night's state dinner, you did. Sure I am, that want to look at it in the middle of her meal, the First Lady did not. Trying to eat her conch fritters, she was. Now, never come here again, they will!
Freak out you should not, just because growing from it some hair is. Some tweezers to it, take, and alone about it, leave me! Much trouble going to sleep I have now, because burned into my brain, the image of it is. See it anymore I can not.
Obviously, working the Ginko-Biloba is not. But if see a doctor you will not, then shut up! Care what color it is today, I do not! Interested in guessing what celebrity it looks like, I am not! If one more time to me you show it, treat it with "lightsaber therapy" I will!