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?
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.
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.
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.
I loaf you lots. Cinnamon raisin loaf, even.
You’re the hottest underage lesbian I’ve ever met.
You were cute before the haircut. Now you’re droolworthy.
I love you because you say “fuck” a lot.
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.
When you look up “takes no shit” in the dictionary, there’s a picture of you in ass-kicking boots.
My first impression of you was “damn, that chick looks like Denise Richards”.
You are something we never thought existed. The one who could tame the wild bachelor.
Out of all my heterosexually gay poker-playing married friends, you’re the most Asian.
I *know*!
Your legs are so long they go all the way to the ground.
I’d think you were cool if you didn’t live in Los Angeles.
I don’t care what Shana says, I think you look like David Schwimmer.
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.
Same thing as #17, but you live in Texas.
Your ass is the most famous thing on the whole internet as far as I am concerned.
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.