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| NASA called to warn you to ease up on the body glitter-- the light reflecting off you can be seen from space and is confusing astronauts. Your lip gloss collection has more flavors that Baskin-Robbins. The pink rhinestones on the back of your jean jacket spell out ROCKSTAR. In reality you're an eighth-grader whose job is "babysitter". Last week you left school early because you were sick from your McRib, Jamba Juice, protien bar and suchi lunch. You named your cat Brittney. And your dog Justin. Your peircings set off the metal detector at the airport. You want to be the first to win the gold medal in Razor scooter racing in the 2004 Olympics. Quick: Name the age, birthday, hometown, and shoe size of every Backstreet Boy. In alphabetical order. Backwards. Gotcha! Your boyfriend keeps his 30-foot-long wallet chain attached to his locker because his pants are so baggy that he's afraid a big gust of wind will launch him like a tube balloon. Your fairy tattoo on your midriff wears a tube top to show off her peirced navel, and has her own tattoo of a dolphin on her ankle. Nothing annoys you more than when your gold and rhinestone hoop earrings get snagged on the beaded barretts in your pink dreadlocks. Your order at Starbucks is a "grande-mocha-latte-decaf-skim milk-lite whip cream-half sprinkles-to go, with no lid." Your favorite T-shirt: on the front, a pictue of Madonna wearing a Brittney Spears T-shirt, and on the back is a picture of Brittney wearing a Madonna T-shirt. You sent your Taco Bell chihuahua to the shelter and got a Something About Mary dog. Now you're thinking of trading it for a Mett The Parents cat. At night, you pray to Gwen Stefani. |