You Are Comic Sans |
 You are a nothing but a big goofball. You're quite playful and fun! You're widely known for your zany personality and your vivacious attitude. To say that you stand out in a crowd would be a definite understatement. Remember that you are overwhelming at times and that people appreciate you best in small doses. |
Does mean I should start posting in Comic San?
A big goofball? I don't know. I've always thought I blend into the background until it's time for me to stand out. I like to think of myself as one of those quiet weird one, who shocks you once he gets on the stage. But tomorrow I'll probably feel differently about this.
So what font are you?
5 comments:
We've officially come to the end of "What ___ are you?" polls.
It says I'm Times New Roman. Oh, how boring I am, but I guess it's accurate.
I'm Andale Mono:
"You are a geek, pure and simple. You spend a lot of time online.
In fact, you probably love the internet more than anyone you know.
You are picky about design, mostly for readability's sake.
You are the type most likely to be irritated by a bad font."
You are formal and conservative. You're concerned with how you appear to others.
For you, maintaining a good reputation is important. You want people to trust you.
Elegant and classy, you always maintain your composure. You are never crass.
You are professional, competent, and upstanding. And it shows!
Dammit, I'm Comic Sans, the "clown" of fonts, juggling in for little alphabet parties in my red nose and squeaky shows.
I hate them all so much!
Boxy and askew, kooky and broad, disdained by other fonts as a spineless sans serif sucking up for easy laughs. They are all so elitist.
Helvetica, 57-year-old Swiss crafted elegance graces BBC news, Lufthansa, Jeep, and even inspired a movie. Whore.
Arial, light and airy, clean and designed to read clear an crisp on the monitors of 1982. A founder of sorts, an early pixel explorer.
Baskerville, the old Brit from 1757, the year Blake was born. Blake the poet and font carver. A transitional font, Baskerville, controversially bridging the old way with the new. A reconciler. A mench.
Akzidenz-Grotesk, simply the best and most evocative name for any font ever. Late 19th Century, precursor to the more refined Helvetica, AG was the distant machinist father from a more violent time. Stubbier Q's, stumped off J's, but everything heavier and more severe, cut with Jack the Rippers surgeon blades.
And me? Comic fucking Sans! Created for Children in 1994 by Microsoft. Misused to convey serious information, or as a desperate attempt to instill humor into an otherwise dreadful letter by attacking the dull thoughts at their very DNA: The letters.
You'll find Comic Sans on all manner of free web hosting sites. Angelfire comes to mind. Look for a nice black background, preferably with a confusing pattern, then to lighten the mood -- a purple Comic Sans!
C'mon people, sending me into a situation like that is like airlifting Dino and Hope into the final days of Saigon. What were we expecting. Laughs? Peace? A font can't save your witless soul my friend.
And yet, that is exactly who I am, according to this 4-5 question quiz.
Dammit! I really felt I as this close to being a futura. Sure it's got the stink of Seattle bankroll on it, but it's at least a serious font that could contain serious thoughts. Not the less-than-imaginative birthday cards my current font is sure to liven up this holiday season.
Roses are soft
Violets are hard.
All I got you
Was this stupid card.
Now, really. That's just an unthoughtful gift disguised as a like joke. But it's wrong and I find it disgraceful, frankly And yet these are the tasks we Comic Sans are often called into. Our job: make an asshole look like a charmer. That's a lot of pressure for a font. Hence, tears of a Comic Sans. Awful.
The depression rate among Comic Sans is skyrocketing, as brainless boyfriends and bosses attempting some 11th hour recompense for their barbaric behavior, suddenly stumble upon Comic Sans as though it were a box full of magic beans. As though the mere random assemblage of such fonts would suddenly glow and sputter into some convenient function, like the rocks in land of the lost, creating all manner of magical glowing phrases to regain entry into pants.
Rotten business, being a Comic Sans. The hours are tough, the people are nasty, and you get no respect from the true comedy purists or the font specialists.
Mirthless, haunted laughter. The empty-eyed cackle of a tormented soul. There's nothing funny about being a COMIC SANS.
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