Facebook Personality Test

Random Just For Fun Quiz

What kind of Facebook user are you?

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How to Play
Before Facebook existed, I . . .
Dreamed of a day when the online experience would only enhance my love to play.
Developed triples of all my vacation pictures.
Threatened holiday gathering harmony with my outspoken views.
Slipped in and out of rooms and halls unnoticed.
Spent hours on the phone catching up with people.
Regularly tested my personality and IQ.
I most admire . . . (Feel free to Google these names. You're not being timed.)
Ansel Adams
Sherlock Holmes
Maria Menounos
Mark Pincus
Katherine Briggs and Isabel Myers
Che Guevara
My Facebook friends . . .
Are self-curious.
Hear from me a lot when bonus points are at stake.
Feel included in my every experience.
Thrive on controversy.
Can hijack our own posts with new tangents, but nobody seems to mind.
Don't hear from me all that much.
Choose a sentiment:
Against my better judgment, I can talk myself out of anything.
Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
Consider how infinitely necessary and justified the stalking becomes when you realize how mysterious your loved one's every aspect seems with an at-a-distance but close examination.
One should really use the camera as though tomorrow you’d be stricken blind.
The mind is like an iceberg; it floats with 1/7 of its bulk above water.
You have died of dysentery.
If only Facebook would let me. . .
Hologram all of my friends into my living room.
See who is viewing my profile.
Chat live with Dr. Phil.
Print wrapping paper from a montage of my albums.
Cross-spend my Candy Crush points in Farmville.
Count my friends list as votes once I run for office.
If I'm on Facebook at 3 a.m., it's probably because I'm. . .
Chatting up someone I haven't seen since the fifth grade.
Proselytizing my opponent if I feel he’s close to changing his mind or proving the fallacies of his argument once and for all—until he starts his own slanted thread the next day.
Trying to score just high enough to pass my nearest competitor.
Diagnosing my high school experience according to 80s movies.
Scrolling through years of updates to unearth that one vital comment that, through a time-stamped paper trail of cross-coordinated posts over the last two years, ultimately proved your ex-friend knew more than she let on back when your brother broke up with his girlfriend.
Uploading the rest of my photos and double checking all the tags in my latest album.

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