What sort of person are you?
Dull. Based on your Facebook posts you haven't had an original thought in the last 2 years. You just share other people's stuff and mildly funny YouTube clips. You're probably one of those people in the pub whose sole contributions to the night out are carrying the ice bucket and laughing at other people's jokes.
Alcoholic. Liberal use of the acronym "lol" is not fooling anyone. Three times a week you make jokes about how much wine you need to get over the day, and your spelling after 9pm degenerates from bad to teenager before sliding further into that green text from the Matrix as midnight approaches.
Single. Two thirds of the photos you post are of cats. There's no way anyone is living with you surrounded by that much fur and malevolence.
Aggravating. Lay off the preaching. No one is going to be converted to Zoroastrianism through Twitter. Holy writ has to be longer than 80 characters. And your god is more or less defunct anyway. He's on the verge of being downgraded from "polite respect" to "embarrassing lunatic fringe" and seems well on his way to "B-grade Marvel hero".
Whippy. (A portmanteau word for "wishful hippy"). You work in an accounting office preparing tax returns but there is a part of your soul that would like to be, robe clad, on a mountaintop in Nepal - provided you could still get a good latte each morning. Your profile is littered with vague truthlets and obvious aphorisms masquerading as profundity, backlit by the rays of the rising sun or the fairy colours of the rainbow. Not that it's doing you any good. Your blood pressure is still 140/95 and your spelling is still deteriorating after 9 pm (xref Alcoholic).
Chris Lilley. You think you're funny but you're not. It's painful to watch. I'm sure it's hilarious in your head but your stream of consciousness seems badly polluted and if Facebook had a "buttock clenching cringe" button, your friends would use it liberally.
Insincere. Sure, you click "like" on the photo of someone's kid getting a ballet award on Pinterest or their story of woe on Facebook but you never comment do you? The truth is you couldn't care less. Social media for you is just another Machiavellian way to make yourself seem less sociopathic, isn't that right?
Illiterate. Being generous about it, you probably think that overusing z to make plurals and 'a' instead of 'er' (e.g. sista) makes you sound like Oprah in the 'hood but you aren't an annoyingly asinine black American woman nor yet a bling bro - you're a weedy 21 year old apprentice from Dubbo. You graduated from primary school; please write comprehensibly.
Creepy. You're peeping at far too many people through the e-keyhole. Be honest. How many people's profiles have you browsed without befriending them? Would your partner be happy to know you'd looked up all those men? I thought not. The police are opening a file on you tomorrow morning.
Temporary. Post one more minion meme, "elf yourself" video or remind me one more time of the number of shopping days 'til Christmas and bad things will happen to you. That's not a prognostication, it's a promise. That's not the sound of Santa coming down the chimney, that's the sound of ruthless, trained killers rappelling down your wall, about to smash through your windows.
Merry Christmas!
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