does the carpet match the shade?

I saw something white in Mark's food processor. It looked just like "豆浆". "What's in it?" I asked.

"Eggnog." Mia answered.
"Egg-what?"
"Egg-nog, with rum in it." Mark said.
I tasted some. It felt like milk shake, and tasted good. I upped my thumb to Mark. Mark could make a lot of food. If Juliette Binoche can make Johnny Depp fall in love with her chocolate, certainly Mark can pinch down some girl with his ooey-gooey, desert of his grand-grandmother's recipe. Who will be the girl?

"Ioanna, I launched a vote for my hair colour in my Facebook, did you see it?" Mark said.
"No. Why?"
"Because you people keep saying I'm a blonde, which I'm not."
"But you are!"
"If you are not a blonde, how come I'm a blonde? My hair is darker than yours."
"No, you're a blonde. I'm brunette. Damien, don't you think Mark is a blonde?" Ioanna said to me.
"Come on!"
"See?" Mark said, and neared his head to Ioanna. Ioanna titled her head in cooperation. Their heads were aligned like two portraits.
"Ioanna, if you're a brunette, then Mark is a brunette."
"Is my hair darker than hers?"
"Yes, a little bit, just a little bit. Ioanna, I think your hair is 30% blonde, and 70% brunette."
"See? And my hair is 20% blonde, and 80% brunette."
"I can't believe you waste so much time on such an argument." I said, chewing rice in my mouth.
"It's serious. It affects my self-perception." Mark raised his voice.
"What does this have to do with self-perception?" Ioanna asked.
"Because it does. There is a white guy who wakes up one morning and hears people call him black. Then he starts perceiving himself as a black."

I was still chewing rice in my mouth, but was reminded of the Greek aphorism: know thyself.
"I'm wondering if a person's pubic hair has the same colour with his or her hair." I said.
Mark and Ioanna laughed. Mia's mouth was agape.
"You know what we say in Amrican? If we see a girl with dyed hair, we say 'Does the carpet match the shade'."
"Carpet? Shade? ...I don't get it."
"OK. Carpet-- pubic hair; shade-- hair."
"I know that. But why do they have to be about colour? Can't..." before I was to finish, Ioanna's hysterical guffaw made all the others laugh.
"Ioanna, I may sound dumb, but... I mean literally, if I say a carpet matches a shade, can't they be about pattern?"
I made Ioanna laugh more.
"Damien, nobody would take that literally." Mia said. Her face was 20% amused 80% serious.
"Mark, what would a girl react if I ask her does you carpet match your hair?"
"She would slap you." Mia took over.
Mark giggled. "Oh, it just reminds me of something else. You know those people, pedophiles, when they think a girl is availabe, they would say 'if there is grass in green, play ball'. My uncle used to say, 'If she can pee, she's old enough for me.'"
I and Mark laughed. Ioanna joined us with her laugh. Mia's face was red already. Her face was 30% amused 70% serious.
"For you, what is the legitimate age for a girl to have sex?" I continued to ask.
"Legally?"
"No, just for you."
"OK. For me, the cut-off age is 17. But there can be a reduce if she is well-developed." Mark burst into a laughter of self-amusement.
"Drink it, cock-sucker." Mark raised his glass of eggnog to Ioanna.
"Mark. Is pussy-licker the opposite term to cock-sucker?" I asked. It seemed there was no way to stop my thoughts from developing, Ioanna from laughing, and Mia from pitying us.
"Oh, my god." were the words that shot out from Mia's juicy, tightened lips.
"Sorry, Mia, if I embarrassed you. I didn't mean to."
"No. I would say clit-mulcher." Mark answered with a giggle.
"Mark, please don't teach Damien those dirty words." Mia said, finally.

Mia is from Finland, a place where the college students, boys and girls, will have a sauna together upon their graduation day.