Friday, December 16, 2005

This is fun. I promise.

I borrowed this game from Megaloni and I had a ton of fun playing. Megaloni might think I'm nuts though because my level of fake memories is really, really deep!

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often) please post a comment here on my blog 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 leaving your comment, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you. I think this will be fun for all; like a bowl of Skittles and M&M's mixed; a color and a flavor for everyone!


PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASE PLAY. IT'S SO FUN! ESPECIALLY IF YOU DON'T KNOW ME. JUST POST SOMETHING!!!

4 Comments:

Blogger Meghaloni said...

What's up Punkin? I have to give Ddot the King credit for this game. I had so much fun playing it, that I had to copy and paste on my blog...at least he gave permission.

Remember that time we decided to meet half way (ya know, since your in Oregon and I'm in Wyoming) in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho? Big Mistake!!! We decided to get drunk at the local bar. It was so much fun catching up 'n such and drinking a ridiculous amout of alcohol. Well, it was all fun uintil the guy with the nastiest mullet decided to start hitting on you. You tried and tried to blow him off, but it just didn't work. Finally you told him to F-off along with some other choice words, and all of sudden you started this huge bar fight. His girlfriend came up and told us we were "nasty bitches" and "dirty whores" and told us to "get off her man". Finally, after being overtaken by the Coeur d'Alene locals (boy, are they loyal to eachother) we left, and are never to return to Idaho. How sad. We cried.

2:52 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey, remember that time we almost got hacked up by Old Mr. Johnson?

I mean, there we were changing the tire on that POS AMC Eagle you got when you graduated. You know, the one that Jen almost drove into the lake after that camping trip?

Anyway, so we're changing the tire, and that guy pulls up in the pickup truck and starts yelling about a broken gate and cows running out onto the road and you were trying to tell him that we didn't hop the fence and we didn't know anything about cows.

Then Manny comes back from peeing in the woods and starts in with "What those brown cows?" and that farmer completely flipped.

How about that Trooper that showed up. I remember how he kept calling you "Little Miss" and you were just getting redder and redder, I swear I though you were going to knock that hat right off his head!

Thank God though, he mananged to convince that farmer that we hadn't broken the gate, or I think we'd have ended up buried back on Lone Pine farm!

So after they all left, and we finally got that tire changed on the Yello Submarine (I have no idea why you called your car that), we started singing the Scooby Doo theme, and forever after, whenever we got in trouble, we always said (say it with me now), "It must have been Old Mr. Johnson from the farm!"

Man, that was fun. Can you really believe it's almost our renuion? I wonder if Manny will make it.

-ajb

2:58 PM  
Anonymous Rori said...

Yeah, so I was thinking just yesterday about that time that I went to visit you in Eugene and we stopped off at PC Market to pick up some lunch during our day-long "Get to Know Eugene 2005 Tour." **Side note: I still lie awake nights trying to figure out what the PC stood for...Politically Correct Market? Pernicious Catnip Market? Or... Polyamory Courtship Market? ; ) Anyway, I got a wrap or something, and you got that badass bagel sandwich--remember? The one that looked really good but was 50% off because it was from the day before? Yeah. This *seemed* like a good idea...whoo-hoo for saving money and all that.

So we decided to set up our little PC picnic in the parking lot while we decided where to go next. There we were, sitting on little grassy median strip, unwrapping our sandwiches (and seriously looking forward to actually *eating* something, seeing as how we skipped breakfast because you were late for class that morning). I don't remember much about my wrap...pretty forgettable, apparently. Considering the alternative (ahem, your badass bagel), that's probably a good thing! Dude, you should have seen your face when you tried to bite into that bagel!!!! It was hysterical! I had no idea what had just happened, just that it wasn't good! You pulled the bagel out of your mouth, and there was this little ring of teeth marks in it, but it was otherwise intact. And I was like, "what? It doesn't taste good?" And you were like, "Touch it. Give it a good poke." If I had to judge what it was based on the consistency alone, I would have guessed an old tire! (You claimed it was about twice as tough as a good Firestone. I just wanna know *how* exactly you know *that*.) We debated taking it back in to the store for a refund, but somehow I dreamed up the oh-so-brilliant idea of playing bagel-hockey in the parking lot instead. And maybe that would have been okay, had we not started the Bagel Sport Decathlon. The Bagel Shotput and Bagel Sprinting went okay, but the Bagel Discus...well, that was our downfall. Dude, you spun around like five times and let it fly. I think you must have been aiming for the deserted far side of the parking lot, but...um...you've never been especially known for your track-and-field event prowess. That puppy went flying in a gorgeous arc across the blue sky--until, that is, it smacked Crabby Pseudo-Hippie Lady in the head.

I thought hippies were supposed to be all about peace, love, harmony, blah blah blah...not this one. She was like 50-something, long grey hair, kinda ugly peasant skirt, Birks, and a *really* bad attitude. It probably didn't help that the two of us fell into fits of hysterical giggles when the bagel connected with her noggin. (For all those out there who are concerned at our lack of remorse--when I say hysterical, I mean just that. We weren't so much amused as in shock.) Anyway, long story short, I think I can say with a fair bit of certainty that that was one of A's first interviews with the cops...they didn't actually arrest us, but Crabby Pseudo-Hippie Lady sure tried to make it happen (which is how I knew she was a pseudo-hippie...real one never would have called the cops...but I guess Eugene attracts loads who like to look the part). The first cop interview (or *one* of the first, based on what I just read about the deal with old Mr. Johnson!!! Jeez, girl!!! You raise enough heck for 4 people!), but definitely not the last. I think the Bagel Discus Incident (the BDI, as we affectionately call it), was just the beginning of a *very* slippery slope for our dear A.

Case in point? Fast-forward 8 months to that time at the Wild West Museum when we went to visit great-aunt Carla! *l* But that's another story...

6:10 PM  
Anonymous Dave said...

OMG, it IS you. OK, it was a couple years ago, but I know you now. I was that 40-somethin guy done up as Eddie, complete with lobotomy scar, who drove up to the RHPS on his motorcycle. That was about the only time I've gone in costume since leaving Ventura.

I guess you just decided to take a chance that night, but we had a great time. We taught each other a couple of new lines, and Frank still didn't talk his way out of it!

We spent hours over coffee and tea afterwards, talking about everything. And I finally bought a digital camera like you told me to. It's great, but your photos are so much better than I'm getting, even now.

Anyway, zen hugs today (since the arms are too short), and I'll stay in touch.

3:23 PM  

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