Only fake memories need reply.

[pink_siamese]

Ganked from shadowconn :

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.

Hee

Comments

[ecchipiro]

Do you remember that one time at bandcamp? Where we read steamy fic to each other and got sloshed on too much red wine?

That memory still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. :D

(okay, obviously I'm on crack tonight)

[pink_siamese]

Man, I had to be drunk to get through that Winnie the Pooh/Mussolini fic without laughing. Though I might've laughed. I can't remember. ;-)

[shadowconn]

You remember that one time in Writing class where the professor wanted us to act out a scene in a movie and you chose the one in Bram Stoker's dracula with Lucy on the stone bench and the werewolf. The teacher had a COW when you showed up in that red lace see-through thing. I still can't believe you got that football player to play the werewolf. Man, the class laughed the rest of the semester.

[pink_siamese]

Good times. ;-)

[xblank_paper]

'member when we took that road trip down to the bay and we ended up getting lost on this sketchy little road whiel cutting through the forrest & we totally caught a glipmse of Big Foot!! How much does it suck that NO ONE believes us?

whatever. it totally happened; and I'm glad you were there.

[pink_siamese]

My boyfriend said it was him in a gorilla suit. He's totally full of shit---he was never that tall, not once, not a day in his life. But we know the truth. XD

[xblank_paper]

hahahaha! amen amen.

[steve98052]

Sometime in the mid-1980s I was on a road trip into the Northeast. I had never been to Maine, so I decided to drive across the border, just far enough to say I had been there. I pulled off at the first exit and searched for a post office. I wrote some post cards to friends that said not much more than, "look, I've been to Maine now!", and took them into the post office lobby to stamp and mail them.

On the way back to my car, I found a pair of mittens, attached to each other with a long piece of yarn. They looked hand-made and almost new. I found an iron-on name tag inside one of them. I found a phone booth, looked up the name, and called the number. I told the woman who answered about the mittens. She thanked me and asked me if I could wait at the post office so she could get the mittens back.

I wasn't in a big hurry, so I decided to wait and write a couple more post cards. Soon enough, a car pulled up, with a woman and a young girl inside. The woman saw my crappy old car and approached, pulling the girl along with her. She thanked

[pink_siamese]

What's really funny is that I found those mittens in a parking-lot one year after the snow melted. Seems those damn things were always trying to wander off to a new owner...

[lethe_lloyd]

So this was the young woman who wrote with such erotic excellence that it either made one groan with despair or forget the world in visceral involvement.

The temptation was to find something to dislike, but that would be both too easy, and too petty-minded. And there was nothing easy or petty in the woman before her. Her eyes were concentrations of experience and dreams...

[pink_siamese]

Actually, it was ragweed pollen.

[lethe_lloyd]

ROFL!