Supermodel From Paris
Smash Hero
Hi, there. My name is Evan, but many know me as rise, Supermodel From Paris, risemix, hot sexy bear, and "beej." You can just call me "awesome," though, all my friends do.
Speaking of which (gosh, it was really hard to find a sequitur into this), a friend of mine named Dylan (Dazwa, from Ukraine? everyone knows him) is linked to me by way of Facebook, a service that brings people together all over the world, and I'm hoping that can extend to you, and me.
After stalking Dazwa's friends for no more than 5 hours (but before you freak out, realize that it was also no less than five minutes) I stumbled upon your handsome visage. I asked around, and it turns out that you aren't gay like me because you have a girlfriend in Canada or whatever. I know how you feel; I had a girlfriend once, too, little Lisa Neal. She wanted so badly to hold hands and play at the swing set, and I told her that Mom wouldn't approve, but she just wouldn't listen. We used to share the juice in our lunch boxes, but she always drank way more than I did. Fifth grade was really tough for me.
In short, you can do way better than the likes of Lisa Neal. You need someone who knows what your Likes are. (Hopefully, one day, Facebook will implement a Dislike button so that I can know what those are too.) How will you get along in this world without someone who knows what your favorite movies and music are? I've seen one black and white picture of you and that's all I need to know that you are too handsome to accept so little.
This is my open letter to you, Jack "ihavespaceballs". Know that I am here, and that I am there for you if you need me, and that basically I think you're, like, super hot.
Speaking of which (gosh, it was really hard to find a sequitur into this), a friend of mine named Dylan (Dazwa, from Ukraine? everyone knows him) is linked to me by way of Facebook, a service that brings people together all over the world, and I'm hoping that can extend to you, and me.
After stalking Dazwa's friends for no more than 5 hours (but before you freak out, realize that it was also no less than five minutes) I stumbled upon your handsome visage. I asked around, and it turns out that you aren't gay like me because you have a girlfriend in Canada or whatever. I know how you feel; I had a girlfriend once, too, little Lisa Neal. She wanted so badly to hold hands and play at the swing set, and I told her that Mom wouldn't approve, but she just wouldn't listen. We used to share the juice in our lunch boxes, but she always drank way more than I did. Fifth grade was really tough for me.
In short, you can do way better than the likes of Lisa Neal. You need someone who knows what your Likes are. (Hopefully, one day, Facebook will implement a Dislike button so that I can know what those are too.) How will you get along in this world without someone who knows what your favorite movies and music are? I've seen one black and white picture of you and that's all I need to know that you are too handsome to accept so little.
This is my open letter to you, Jack "ihavespaceballs". Know that I am here, and that I am there for you if you need me, and that basically I think you're, like, super hot.
