by Copper Catcher » Thu Apr 23, 2015 6:51 pm
His reputation is expanding faster than the universe
He once had an awkward moment just to see how it feels.
He lives vicariously through himself.
If he would mail a letter without postage, it would still get there.
His words carry weight that would break a less interesting man's jaw.
He has won trophies for his "game face" alone.
He bowls overhand.
When it is raining it is because he is thinking about something sad.
The pheromones he secretes have been known to affect people miles away, in a slight, but measurable way.
His blood smells like cologne.
His hands feel like rich, brown suede.
He has taught his horse to read his email to him.
His snow globe gets twenty-four inches of fresh powder annually.
Regardless of temperature you can never see his breath.
He has never relied on mistletoe.
His New Year’s resolutions would blow your mind, that is why he does not tell anyone.
He is the reason those nine ladies are dancing.
The Aztec calendar has his Cinco de Mayo party chiseled in.
If you would see him walking a Chihuahua, it would still look masculine.
He would not be afraid to show his feminine side, if he had one.
Several Saints share his likeness, or vice-a-versa, depending on who you ask.
Dicing onions does not make him cry, it only makes him stronger.
He has never has filled up on chips.
His personality is so magnetic he is unable to carry credit cards.
Even his enemies list him as their emergency contact number.
He never says something taste like chicken, not even chicken.
The police often question him, just because they find him interesting.
He is the life of parties he has never attended.
If he has ever punched you in the face, you would have to fight off the strong urge to thank him.
Sharks have a week dedicated to him.
He once challenged his own reflection to a staring contest, on the fourth day he won.
Some say he found the fountain of youth, but did not drink it, because he was not thirsty.
At museums, he is allowed to touch the art.
He is, Adam Youngs!