These are peaches that were foisted upon me, with near violence, by the little Russian girl. I made a pie with some of them. Here’s the some of them from which pie was made. She apparently made 8 trillion jars of jam with hers. "Peaches come in a can. They were put there by a man." Or, in this case, a peach obsessed little Russian girl. I never want to another peach again for as long as I live. No fooling. I will stab a bitch.