So apparently the way this works…you comment on 20 people on your friendslist, without identifying them, and people are a-pposed to guess who you’re talking about?
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You’ve got your finger on the pulse of popular culture. It’s right there. It’s not far away from the pulse, jammed straight up your ass.
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One day we’re getting married. You know this. You just refuse to accept it. But even if we got married, you’d probably still refuse to sleep with me.
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You’re one of my favorite people because you’re such a goof. And you say things like “w00t”, but it doesn’t come off lame when you do it. Plus, for the puppy.
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I loaf you lots. Cinnamon raisin loaf, even.
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You’re the hottest underage lesbian I’ve ever met.
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You were cute before the haircut. Now you’re droolworthy.
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I love you because you say “fuck” a lot.
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I don’t get to see you nearly as often as I’d like, but you still are one of the most insightful friends I have. I guess your husband is an acceptable substitute.
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When you look up “takes no shit” in the dictionary, there’s a picture of you in ass-kicking boots.
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My first impression of you was “damn, that chick looks like Denise Richards”.
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You are something we never thought existed. The one who could tame the wild bachelor.
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Out of all my heterosexually gay poker-playing married friends, you’re the most Asian.
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I *know*!
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Your legs are so long they go all the way to the ground.
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I’d think you were cool if you didn’t live in Los Angeles.
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I don’t care what Shana says, I think you look like David Schwimmer.
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I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting you yet, and from what I read in your journal, that’s just as well. I’d probably explode from the sauciness.
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Same thing as #17, but you live in Texas.
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Your ass is the most famous thing on the whole internet as far as I am concerned.
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A wise man once said “Redheads are nothing but t-r-u-b-i-l.” He was probably talking about you. Even though he’s never met you.