Thursday, July 29, 2004


She looks like the girl who was perpetually hanging out in the high school library or computer room because she didn't have any friends and had near-anxiety attacks when out in public. She used to spend her lunch hour browsing poetry pages about unrequited love, death and Wicca by fellow angstful teenage girls from around the country, until the 80 year old librarian saw it as a warning sign of another Columbine and made her stop. She suffers from intolerable constipation because she can't take a dump in a public restroom and has to hold it until she gets home. Her sprinting down the street towards home afterschool was a common sight for her classmates. She went to art school in New York after high school, lost a ton of weight on the starving artist ramen diet and ended up being discovered by a casting agent on the subway. 5 years later, she's A List Hollywood and everyone from her high school who can't even remember her talk about how she was a "friend" of theirs.


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Wednesday, July 28, 2004


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He looks like Phong, the Happy High School Exchange Student whose quote under his yearbook picture says, "Hey guys, Phong here. I'm happy happy love you American Girls and Britney Spears cuz I'm pure Gangsta Rappin yo kicking you real with pimpy ho style don't touch my bling bling wassup wassup because I'm happy Phong nigga from the westside peace slapping my ho for bitch should have my money! Go USA!" 


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He looks like walking syphilis who can't tell the difference between a real woman and a transvestite.

Monday, July 26, 2004


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She looks like a girl who craves attention to compensate for low self-esteem, and is completely incapable of distinguishing good attention from bad attention. In high school, she went through one overblown "crisis" after another, earning her the reputation of a drama queen who would consistently get drunk off of half a red Solo cup of beer at a party and blow any Varsity athlete who gave her eye contact in the bathroom . And when the entire school would find out the next day, it wasn't because the guy or some jealous girlfriend wanted to spread nasty rumors. Like a misguided self-publicist, she made sure to circulate the news herself because she thought people would admire her for having "been with" someone popular.  In college, she was that sorority girl who joined because she thought that was what it would take to get guys to notice her, but her sorority sisters hated her because she would always feign drunk and aggressively come onto their boyfriends. If you ask her, she'll tell you that her greatest conquest in college was when she slept with her 54 year old, married English Comp IC professor. In fact, you don't even have to ask her. She's still proudly telling anyone who will listen about it, seven years later.  She will also tell you that most men find her incredibly desirable, saying it in an annoyed tone like it's such a hassle that men throw themselves at her. This is not only fictitious, but is also an attempt to create an illusion of control over her self worth and attractiveness, when in truth, men like that she let's them do anything and everything to her, and that they can get away with treating her like shit. Because they really don't care and she's in denial that they don't. Yes, she is every bar's quintessential Drunk Ho. Other girls would feel sorry for her if she weren't notorious for talking shit about them behind their backs. As she gets older, she is noticing that she's getting less and less attention at the bars and thus, must resort to more and more outrageous tactics to get attention. Wearing reindeer antlers in July and telling people she can swallow a whole cupful of cum? Yeah, that's just the beginning. What she deems her overpoweringly seductive Look, really just says, "I'll let you fuck me in front of your friends before I pay for my own taxi ride home."  Yes, she's That Girl.

Oh, That Girl's daddy...WHY COULDN'T YOU LOVE HER MORE???????

Sunday, July 25, 2004


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He looks like a guy who is so comfortable with his sexual identity, that he's willing to wear his female friends' hats in public, and his girlfriend's panties in private (just kidding. He doesn't have a girlfriend). He has more white friends than black friends and more female friends than male friends, though he is everyone's friend because he's Mr. Nice Guy and hates the idea that someone somewhere may not like him. In bars, strangers will come up to him and joke, "You down with OPP?" because they think he looks like that dude from Naughty By Nature, which is cool, but it really doesn't help him get laid. Which is probably for the best since he secretly agonizes over the fact that he's hung like a beast and it causes complex feelings regarding intimate moments because he is terrified of the thought of hurting a girl. Because of this, he's only been with two girls in his life, and has had sex only six and three-fourths times. His easy-going goofball sense of humor masks his inherent shyness, and he's self-conscious over the fact that people expect him to be a better dancer than he actually is. He has a massive crush-bordering-obsession on Jennifer Garner.

Saturday, July 24, 2004


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He looks like a guy who grew up in the Pacific Northwest, in a psychologically functional (albeit, boring) family where the entire gang discussed current events at the dinner table and played Team Scrabble every Thursday night. He drove his family's wood-paneled station wagon from high school well into his early thirties, even after rust ate through the floors to the point that you could see the road whizzing by underneath from the comfort of the passenger seat. From early adolescence and on, he was a serial monogamist who perpetually dated hippie moon types who didn't eat meat, were morally opposed to shaving anywhere on their bodies, but were always willing to pose for brooding artistic nude photos which he still has in a shoebox in the back of his closet. Despite his Venusian love for the ladies, his need for independence prevented him from getting married until the age of 37, when he met a divorced botanist from Florida on a flight from Portland to Orlando; she was returning from her first cousin's funeral, and he was headed to the annual used book convention. He skipped the convention and they spent the next four days holed up in her apartment, discovering each other in every possible realm, with him proposing on the fourth with a twisted strip of black pipe cleaner serving as a makeshift ring. They were married in a small ceremony in the backyard of his family home in Eugene, Oregon, with his black lab, Charley, serving as both ring bearer and best man. They have a happy long-distance, bi-coastal marriage in which they talk on the phone every night and fly out to see each other once every two months (taking turns, of course). They have decided that, while they both love children, they would prefer not to have any of their own. While during the day, he works in sales for the largest organic fertilizer supplier in the US, his true passion is children's theater. He often donates his time and energy to staging short one-man sketches with messages of hope and perseverance to sick children at the local hospital. While his talent is questionable and his energy more than a little intimidating, the kids do get a kick out of his wardrobe, which shows off his quirky yet confident, cutting edge style. While some people may find his personality to be insufferably cheesy, others believe that he is the type of benevolent personality in which small-town communities are built upon. He's a Capricorn. Whatever that means.

Friday, July 23, 2004


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She looks like she grew up in a small midwestern town, where her family became devout Christian Scientists after her father left her mother for the chain-smoking counter girl at the local diner, whose squinty left eye makes her kind of pretty in that haggard, been-around-the-block kind of way . Her mother in turn became a bitter closet alcoholic, spending the next three years wearing the same unwashed, mauve bathrobe around the house, cutting coupons and obsessively monitoring day time television for evidence that the gays and the Mexicans are taking over the nation. After three years of being lost at sea, her mother stumbled upon the good faith after seeing the church's ad in the local section of the newspaper; she quickly converted herself and her two young children. At the age of 12, she walked into the shed in her backyard and caught her older brother having sex with a respected town councilman (and father of the most popular girl in school); her brother had his face painted delicately with make-up and their mother's best Sunday dress crumpled on the floor around his ankles. She subconsciously swore off make-up, sex and overt gender-identification from that moment on. She was an average student and went on to study computer science at the local community college. She doesn't realize that her best friend from high school and on, Lyle, has always been hopelessly in love with her, and Lyle doesn't realize that he is, unquestionably, a homosexual. When asked to describe her, her coworkers nearly unanimously used the term, "nice," though one observed, "Sweaters. She has a lot of sweaters." She lives alone in a one-bedroom apartment two blocks away from her childhood home that does not receive direct sunlight. She has considered committing suicide 3 1/2 times in the last 8 months. Her favorite color is peach.

Thursday, July 22, 2004


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He looks like he pays fat women for sex.


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He looks like that high school soccer coach who's the kind of middle-aged loser who falls asleep nightly on his ratty ass couch wearing only tube socks pulled up to his calves and briefs with his hand stuffed inside the pee-crack, firmly gripping his tiny flaccid penis, but who all the girls on the team with low self-esteem had crushes on. Is he a likely candidate to sleep with an underaged girl and then sob controllably that he was the one who was actually victimized when he finally gets caught? Hell yes.

The "He Looks Like" Game Where We Psychoanalyze People To Death

That's exactly what we do.