Sure, request away! Just make sure to tell me in your request that you are a doper or I will probably refuse it. I don’t like friending strangers on Facebook because they overload my notices with application crap.
Can we get a Mod in here? We need to have this thread renamed “Dopers who want to bury their faces in pbbth’s cleavage, and possibly confess things”.
Is that how she got pbbth as her username? Because that’s what people say when they bury their faces in her cleavage? 
(sorry, couldn’t resist–will try harder next time) 
If that’s what you’d say in that situation, I have to wonder what your thought process is. 
Me, I’d be saying “Mmmmm, yes.”
Heh. Not me. I’m female, straight, and not a fan of cleavage. That’s why I was careful to say “people.” And I meant the noise in a “motorboat” sense, not a “yuck” sense. In other words, complimentary (presumably–I always thought the motorboat concept was kind of icky, but apparently a lot of guys think it’s quite nice. )
I’m falling out of love with my wife. I want to see a marriage councilor but I don’t know where to look, how to suggest it to her, how we could afford it, or whether my ego could survive therapy.
I have trouble with compliments, and also with receiving gifts graciously. It’s not that I am selfish about gift giving, it’s that I get embarrassed by the attention that comes along with receiving gifts and extra attention. It’s a very “is this really meant for me?” feeling.
Sorry, I’ve been busy with schoolwork lately. Classes started on Monday. I did, however, find time to photograph some serious cleavage.
Speaking of school, when I was a freshman in college, I used to sneak around the dorm building to find quiet places to have phone sex with my then-LDR-boyfriend. Sometimes it was easier to just call him for phone sex after my roommate fell asleep, and try to be quiet about it. It was an interesting first semester.
I figured that’s what you meant–I never quite understood it myself.
This is your notice that you just won a Zeriel-is-a-creepy-doper seal of approval.
And they are all mine. 
I’ve got another shot!
I prefer Famous Grouse. Come Laphroaig, Cragganmore or any other single malt or fancy this or that – when the sun goes down, and nobody sees, I pour a real large glass of Famous. Because it tastes so good. Better than anything else.
Cleavage and a mooseknuckle. My day is made. 
ETA: I’m kidding, don’t stare too hard… unless… he likes it?
Just ordered both from Netflix. (I hope you were talking about what I just learned were short-lived TV series, neither of which I had ever heard of before.)
Wow. Somebody pinch me! I must be dreaming.
I don’t have very many female friends and often feel I’m missing out on chances to talk about “girly” things. And when I do meet a woman that I like well enough to try and become friends with, I go too far overboard and come across like a half-grown Labrador puppy. Sometimes, there’s even slobber.
I had girlfriends back in high school, but I don’t know what happened since then.
I have to confess that instead of dinner tonight I ate a bag of Baked Lays. Not even one of the little individual serving size bags but an entire 5 oz package. I feel a little ill now and I’m wishing I hadn’t been so lazy and had actually made normal food.
Could’ve had a V8.
New Confession:
Purely on physical hotness, which includes general hottiness; smile and such other things as may make you look like someone incredibly cool to hang with whilst trying not to peek when you’re not looking, you are among the Top Shelf of Doper-osity.
Honestly, cleavage is nice if you got it, but not all of us are breast guys. Some of us just like purty girls.
Oh, and smart and funny and stuff, but that all is assumed if you’re here to begin with.