I am getting this sudden urge to fly to China and get myself a roasted potato (the right kind, roasted by the shabby old man with the rusty drum). The half black, blister filled red skin, the orange steamy soft goodness beneath… Damn it, I HATE how we don’t have those snack stands in North America (ah, my flat breads, my miniature yams, my carrot cakes, my stuffed lotus roots, my dumplings, my other dumplings, my other other dumplings, my other other other dumpings, my kabobs, my BELOVED CHINESE STREET FOOD!!!!!!)
Seriously, this is cold enough for it too. Whose barbecue am I going to have to steal to get my potato?
P.S.: I want to kill Shirou. Just because a girl has a small chest DOESN’T mean she won’t get sore in the back and shoulders!