deathpixie: (concrete sky)
Rossi ([personal profile] deathpixie) wrote2005-11-30 02:32 pm
Entry tags:

Eh.

Still feeling unoriginal. Another meme.

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often) 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 on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you.

[identity profile] technophobia.livejournal.com 2005-11-30 08:33 pm (UTC)(link)
So there we were, just you, me, and a thousand screaming African natives. I don't remember much of it, but I do remember you beating one to death with one of those large foam pool things.

[identity profile] nystana.livejournal.com 2005-11-30 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Just SICK!

[identity profile] frito-kal.livejournal.com 2005-11-30 10:25 pm (UTC)(link)
No, you only get sick if you don't cook them right. 8-10 minutes in a frying pan, or 45 minutes in the oven at 375 degrees.

[identity profile] mitai.livejournal.com 2005-11-30 10:40 pm (UTC)(link)
I was thinking about that time that we were walking across the Golden Gate Bridge that one night at like, three am, and we saw the three UFOs and then you and I got into this heated arguement about which season of the X Files was the best while we were checking the others' parachute-packing jobs, and how we were both sure we had just sabatoged the other so we checked each other's checking, and then had to be rechecked . . . man, that was great until six am rolled around and the Krispy Kreme light came on.
ext_3673: Manny, from black books (Default)

[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_bounce_/ 2005-12-01 05:32 am (UTC)(link)
I think it was the time you started doing the tightrope walking course and tried to get me to join in, only I was too shit scared of heights to play...

[identity profile] seraangel.livejournal.com 2005-12-01 11:34 am (UTC)(link)
There was that time when we kept being stopped by a man in a fedora and a kilt. We couldn't understand at all what he wanted and then we realised we'd been dragging his French poodle for the last two blocks.

I mean, how were we to know it was his French poodle? You don't expect guy's in kilts to own that sort of dog.