If you were planning one of the many parties I assume you have without me, would you:

  1. Invite me! You enjoy my company and would be genuinely happy if I was there.
  2. Neglect me! You briefly consider inviting me, but you decide to deliberately exclude me. This will make it easier to make fun of me at the party later.

Your dream home would include:

  1. A walk-in closet and a wrap-around porch!
  2. A walk-in closet, a wrap-around porch, and me, hanging by my wrists from your ceiling like a punching bag!

When I add a comment or joke during a conversation, do you:

  1. Appreciate what I have to say! You think I contribute to the conversation and you like talking with me.
  2. Boil with rage! You get profoundly irritated when you hear my voice, and you’re baffled by my lack of self-awareness. You clench your fists involuntarily whenever I speak.

You invited me to that concert because:

  1. You think I’m fun! I’m one of your closest friends and you thought that I would have a great time.
  2. You felt obligated! The only reason you talk to me is because you think I’m a loser. Hanging out with me is half service project/half begrudging responsibility. It’s like elderly care, if the elderly were total dweebs.

What Sex and the City character are you?

  1. Samantha.
  2. Charlotte, but only if there was a weird, fifth member that Charlotte immeasurably despised.

If you had your choice, would you:

  1. Not punch me in the stomach! Because why would you do that? You don’t mind me.
  2. Totally punch me in the stomach! You would love the chance to absolutely pummel my tum-tum. You feel a spark of joy imagining permanently damaging my intestines. Pow pow pow pow!

Are you more of a:

  1. Dog person! And you don’t revile me.
  2. Cat person! As long as the cat is far, far away from me, because I suck.

When you talk about me when I’m not around, you:

  1. Speak kindly of me! You feel no urge to malign me to strangers.
  2. Completely demolish me! You’re excessively malicious when you describe me, especially to those who have never met me before. You want to make sure that no unfortunate stranger makes the mistake of being my friend. Also, the chance to explicitly disparage me is pleasurable for you. You’re not sure how you feel about it.

Pick a condiment:

  1. Ketchup!
  2. You hate me!

Your least favorite thing about me is:

  1. How I doubt myself! You don’t understand my paranoia and self-loathing. You want me to understand that I do deserve love and friendship. You hope I learn that I’m worthy of affection, both for the sake of my own happiness, and because my constant need for validation is getting old.
  2. Everything! I’m just bad.

Results

Mostly As: You hate me! You’re just being nice about it because you don’t want to hurt my feelings. Thinking about me makes you feel immense pity. You try not to interact with me because I’m just kinda sad to look at.

Mostly Bs: You hate me! And I knew it the whole time.

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