Myers B-Rigged: America, you’re an ESTJ

If America were a student in the USC Marshall School of Business,
forced to click through 60 nauseatingly self-conscious questions each year to re-learn “who you are”,
only to forget what that shit means a week later, anyway…

America would be an ESTJ.

Here’s why.

THE EXTROVERT: Drunk Uncle Sam

“You can be anything you want to be.” “Go get ’em!” “Show ’em what you’re made of!”
American culture, particularly towards our youth, is a pull-string doll of encouraging quotes. The American dream is a game, and one of the most important rules:
If you’re not aggressive enough, you will lose.
If you’re not the loudest, you don’t want it badly enough. And when you go to another country, Lord knows they’re not mumbling “Stupid American” because of how low-key and mysterious you are, ya neon-Kanye-glasses Omigad-ing hunk of embarrassment.
America is the loud, drunk, naked uncle of the world’s nations. Avert your eyes — Uncle Sam is an extrovert.

Famous ENPJ: Fat Monica. Hm.
Famous ESTJ: Fat Monica. Hm.

THE SENSATE: Dubya & Dubyummer

If America were part of a rap group, they’d be the hypeman – repeating the last word of the rapper, even if it was a sneeze. It’s all about groupthink with us Yanks. Sensates love the “tried and true” and they love action, and America’s an extreme sensate.
Therefore, America loves to act quickly in ways they’ve already tried — and, often, failed.
Cases in point: Aggression in Iraq; Sub-par American Idol winners; Dubya and Dubyummer; USC Football.

THE THINKER: Jon &or Kate

You’re Republican or you’re a Democrat. You’re for or against. As an American, you’re made up of a thousand binaries, and those who live in the gray are uneducated, unrefined and somehow fat (see left).
The Thinker, like America as a whole, doesn’t have the patience or brain-bandwidth to support or even acknowledge middle-treaders.
Case in point: That mythical land called the “Mid”west. I mean, honestly, what the hell is over there?


Two words: Microsoft Office.
Judging Americans love order, organization and syncing all things “i”: Their iCal to their iPhone to their iToilet to their iDaddyIssues. Somehow, Americans have become so convinced that the compartmentalized life is the peaceful life, there’s no room for disorganization or uncertainty. We’re approaching such an over-convenienced life that all the next president has to do is “find an app for that — y’know, where you can just, like, shake it and it chooses for you? Hright?”

Then, omigad. America and I would be totes compatible.


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