Christine stayed with us one summer when I was in late elementary or middle school. She drove a crummy maroon truck with a tape player, which was very cool (she was always a very cool cousin). We were driving somewhere together and she had a Sublime tape in playing a typically inappropriate Sublime song (I can tell you what it was called, but am not going to make her mom say it). Christine told me we probably shouldn't listen to it, but then let it keep playing, making me feel like I was on her cool level. Every time I listen to Sublime, I think of Christine.
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