[He's lying perpendicular across his bed, both hands pressed to his face under his sunglasses in the kind of teenage mortification that knows no bounds. He manages to keep it out of his voice, somehow.]

No, it's cool. I guess I just forgot to take into account the inherent identifiability of my brand when I made this post.

[Only removing one hand from his face, he blindly pats the mattress next to him.]

Have a seat, girl, mi casa's tu casa.