Tagged! Now be creative... :)
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don’t speak often (or ever, for that matter), 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.
And now you can consider yourself tagged, so go post this meme on your blog.


2 Comments:
Do you remember the time we were riding our bicyles down Adams Street? We'd never been down that street, but the day we decided to explore it, the old man in the green car slammed on his horn and scared us to death!!! What a GREAT memory!
4:27 PM
And I turned to you, and I said, "Damn that was fun," which got a few looks from the other guys in the holding cell. That didn't bother me, maybe, because when we did it, I knew we were headed for a good time, in the same way that when we did it, I knew we were headed for jail.
Maybe, if it hadn't been a nun, and, maybe, if the cop hadn't been standing right there, things would've been different.
But when I saw her napping on the park bench, with her head unprotected and I saw that gleam in your eye and your hand on your belt buckle, I knew, sadly, from there, there could be but one outcome. I knew you were going to give the nun a meat helmet, place your bare cheeks on her forehead -- because...well...that's how you are.
And when the cop started chasing you and the nun was still befuddled, I knew I was going to meat helmet her, too, because I knew it would confused the cop ("Who do I bust now?!"),buy you some time, and because that's how I am -- the best wingman in the game.
If only his backup hadn't been so close, we might've been able to get away. And if we hadn't been laughing so hard, we might've been able to run faster.
But then, the story wouldn't have been as good.
Still, I'm never drinking Grey Goose and snorting pixie stix dust off hookers with you ever again. My dad swears he's never getting me out of jail again: 10's his limit.
**Sorry, best I could do on short notice.
5:30 PM
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