A password will be e-mailed to you.

You may not have realized it yet, but regardless of your age, ethnicity, gender or sexuality, you want to bone down with a Property Brother. All of your friends want to bone down with a Property Brother. Even your parents dream of boning down with a Property Brother.

In the past, you might have been the kind of person who had a laminated copy of your birth chart. You corrected people when they talked about their sun sign and you religiously read guides on how to dress for your rising. Or perhaps you were more of a Myers-Briggs type, you’ve shelled out money to take the real test (plus every free iteration you can find on the Internet) and you can spot an INFJ from a mile away. Or you might have been one of those people who had twelve different Pottermore accounts because you keep forgetting your password and you need to know which house you are so you can get high off that shot of nostalgia. But you’re an adult now. You must put away these childish things and give up your body, mind and soul to these television temptresses.

Like Billy Mayes back from the dead, I’m here to yell into a headset that is certainly not plugged in and gesticulate my arms wildly about the new best thing in the lucrative world of online personality types. Erase your M-B from your mind and ceremonially burn all your Hot Topic brand Harry Potter gear, because the only personality type that matters is which Property Brother you want to fuck.

Whether you’re a Drew-maniac or a Jonathan-lover, you can learn a lot about your personality, goals, hopes and dreams by analyzing which Property Brother tugs at your heart strings. So come with me, take my hand and stare deep into the eyes of these confusingly hot HGTV hosts. Let their great hair and excellent skin marinate in your brain. Look closely at Drews’s finely tailored suits, does his penchant for navy call to you? Now slide your eyes on over to Jonathan, that consummate king of plaid.

Now that you’ve meditated on the hotness of these prime time twins, steel yourself for the results. Their precise nature and prophetic tone may shock you.


You’ve got secrets. A middle name you swear doesn’t exist. A stint abroad that’s only talked about in hushed tones. Whatever it may be, you hold them close. On the outside, you’re put together, coiffed and dependable, but it’s the unknowns (a half-forgotten night by the Seine or perhaps a woman (metaphorically) locked away in the attic?) that are the culmination of you. You’re kind, but cold. Keeping people at a distance is your first hobby, it always has been. And yet, you draw them in. You excel in groups, people light up when you walk into a room. They think they know you. They think they know the summit of your mind. You smile as they size you up, only you know your magic… but it can be lonely, being two people at once. Feel out your loved ones. Step out of your mind. Is there someone you can let in? Someone who can hold both of your halves without crumbling under the weight of your possibilities? Let them. It will only make you rarer. It will only make you feel more alive.


You rambunctious scamp. You dependable confidant. You solid hunk of granite. You delicate whisper of the wind. You’re everything anyone could want you to be. A shapeshifter clad in an infinitely changing coat. One moment a pauper and another moment an effusive tycoon. You must be tired, holding up the fort. Building the fort. Dealing with the upkeep of the fort. Rest your weary bones on this velvet chaise. Let the others stand up and dance for your entertainment. You’ve been a wild bull your entire life, but it cannot last. People might reach out, they might need you, but this isn’t the time to expend your precious energy on others. They see you as a limitless resource, as rich and plentiful as an inky black oil spill… and just as reflective. Theres a luminescent bolt of quicksilver at the center of your heart, it’s what makes you different, makes you magic. You must tend it like a garden. In a life of many tall tales, your next adventure is putting yourself first.

And for those of you who see nothing when you stare upon the holy faces of our home improvement seraphs, do not cry. Take solace in the brother that is yours. The brother you were meant to love.


You wear another’s face. You’re a snake charmer, drawing people in with illusions and false promises. You were meant to stand upon the gilded stage, but your opportunity slipped away like so many snowflakes sliding through an ungloved hand. You can’t catch the light. It must be given to you. Take time to grieve, let the sadness flow through your fingertips, but do not give yourself away to emotion. Do not lose yourself in the riptide of uncertainty. It is you who are the luckiest. You have freedom pumping through your veins, do not put it to waste. Let the others gossip, let them underestimate. You’re in the best position of them all. You can be anything… and everything. Immerse yourself in the pages of your own story. Conquer your own world. Glide though the wires and copper that connect society and hold court upon your threadbare throne. It’s all yours. You just have to take it.