On the evening of the Fourth of July, Martin and I were driving home from an afternoon of delicious beverages at our good friends' Jenny and Matt's house. I had recently consumed a red beverage which made my lips and tongue very very red.
Me: Don't speed through here. It's a speedzone. There's always cops.
Martin: Okay. Cool-Aid Lips. You look like a little kid. No one is going to take you seriously. That cop will take one look at you, then he'll look at me and be like, ' what are you doing riding around with this girl you could do way better than cool-aid lips.
point taken.
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