Is it memorex?

[bewareofgeek]

f you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often or ever) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph in your LJ and see what your friends come up with.

Comments

[auntiemame67.livejournal.com]

Ah, yes, how well I remember the night we met. I was burning Sodom and Gamorrah to the ground, for false advertising (there was NO wild sex like the brochure promised, but entire weeks of Pictionary and Apples to Apples and bridge). You came striding out of the desert, cloak billowing in the night breeze, handed me your Zippo and sat down to watch. As the flames roared into the night and I did my Vengeance for Stupid Party Games dance, you stood, caught me by the arms, looked deep into my eyes and asked huskily, "Where the *hell* is the nearest Walmart?"

[mdg1.livejournal.com]

*mmph*. Brilliant.

[chattycatsmeow.livejournal.com]

I'll never forget the day we spent in the park, watching the birds, the squirrels, and the really odd-looking woman with Funky hat who was waving a peacock feather, shouting in tongues and chasing the birds and the squirrels .

So, how is your Great Aunt Edna doing these days?

[mdg1.livejournal.com]

She's moved up to lemmings.

[jackolantern.livejournal.com]

An entire regiment of us parachuted onto Olympus Mons, oversized canopies like Brobdingnagian water lilies on the placid lake of the Martian sky... but only you and I lived to tell the tale of what happened next.

My therapist says that I should talk about it with her, process it and get it out of my system, but she doesn't quite seem to hold her shape when I'm not looking at her directly.

[mdg1.livejournal.com]

I still can't look at flan without shuddering....

[call-me-robert.livejournal.com]

Well, there was the night we made that run south of the border to find the original home of the Taco Bell and figure out who came up with the clever slogans on the hot sauce packets...we were captured by bandits, and in order to escape with our lives we were forced to dance while they fired their pistols at us. They were drunk, pretty shoddy marksman, and we can't dance unless it is to save our lives, plus that stupid fucking record they were playing on that broken down Victrola was skipping like mad.

We survived, of course, but what the rest of the world will never know is that we are responsible for the invention of the Macarena.

[mdg1.livejournal.com]

I'm still not entirely sure where those hamsters came from...