Funny Cartoon Profile Picture Mga Nobela at Kwento

“So, are you already trying to profile me?” I chuckle. “I profiled you months ago, Jimmy.” “People change.” He defends feigning offence “You didn’t.” I chirp in. “Okay then. Humour me. What’s your profile?” I duck my head and grin. This feels like my first patient. “I think that you’re a guy who feeds off humour. Maybe it’s been your way of getting out of unpleasant situations in the past.” “That’s quite an accurate profile. That’s All You’ve Looked at?”

I giggled. Putting her on speaker again, I went to Mythinder and took a screenshot of his profile. The profile picture is of him in a fitted white button up and his hair is styled nice. On his page, you can see a picture of him with his dog and another of him shirtless. And my goddess, it’s definitely hard to breathe when you’re looking at that one. He’s got a firm chest and a thin torso. He’s playing soccer in another one with very short shorts. You just want to lick the sweat dripping down his thigh muscles. I sent the screenshot to her and she was quiet as she clicked on it. “Holy shit he’s hot,” she groaned.

I mumbled. Why of all people?! It was a picture of us talking in the cafeteria. We are both wearing a serious expression as if we’re in a debate. I scrolled down on the comment section. My lips twitched when I saw a lot of comments coming from our friends, mostly from my annoying cousin. Worth Farrel Rojas: *whistles* Is my ship sailing? Linus Nolan Buenafe: Oh, what a tea Shaun Martin Stewart: Holy cow! This is a biggest scoop!

Still, it wouldn’t leave me. When the artist finally turned the paintings around, Elara gasped in horror. Her caricature exaggerated everything. Her nose was huge, her expression looked like a puffed-up rooster. I laughed so hard my eyes watered, clutching my sides. Then he showed mine. It was even worse. My elegant posture looked stiff and snooty, my face stretched into something prim and ridiculous. Elara doubled over, laughing until tears streamed down her cheeks. We left the stall carrying our embarrassing portraits, the paper crinkling in my hands, still giggling like kids.