Biore Strips, Giulio, and Me.

This is the part of the summer when I lose all shame and have a full 15 minute conversation with fair Giulio about spaghetti sauce never once mentioning or giving explanation to the giant black pore cleansing strip on my nose… 
or the blemish cream dotting my face…
…or the clearly unwashed hair

…or the white tube socks.
…or the draw-string, knee-length pink on pink striped pajama shorts
…that I wear every day. 
It was a test of his propriety. One in which he passed with flying colors. 
Sometimes, my grandma asks me if there are any nice boys in my life who are interested in perhaps taking me out to an evening of dinner and dancing. 
In short:

Giulio, will you accept this rose? 

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