The green beret asked me to a date because he saw that I, as well, was selectively courageous enough to try the mousse with matcha and, consequently, his weary heart apocopated the crushed green tea into a destined match.

So, I, desiring a redo regarding current streak of executing decisions against best interests, decided to, first, out-poor the popskull and, then, similarly apocopate—into red lips and red cap, congenial colours to complement his hues as we try for jolly holly days. ; )