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I wanna play today...fake memory meme

It's Friday (the Lady's day). I am rockin' the sleep-deprivation train and could use a little boost. Won't you please put on your creative writing caps and surprise me? Come on - I dare ya!

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If 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.

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Comments

( 19 comments — Leave a comment )
catbirdgirl
Dec. 5th, 2008 04:58 pm (UTC)
You looked amazing with purple hair and serpent-scale green skin. How did you get the scales to stick? I know you were kidding about being half-Martian.
jennlynn_green
Dec. 5th, 2008 06:58 pm (UTC)
Well my heritage is a mystery to most of us. Dad would never say where he came from but that tentacle was always suspicious. You're right though...the scales weren't mine. The secret? Honey, potato starch and water...effective and tasty!
muddyslush
Dec. 5th, 2008 05:00 pm (UTC)
I remember that time we had an Aries birthday party and decided to celebrate its martial aspects by sabotaging the BP refinery that wanted to put all that sludge in Lake Michigan. Things sure got wacky when we were in there, covered in oil, slip-sliding around when we should have been quietly subversive. Oh, and then the gods showed up! Getting arrested sucked, especially while aspecting Mars, but it was worth it to watch him slip out of the cuffs and high-tail it out of there.
jennlynn_green
Dec. 5th, 2008 07:01 pm (UTC)
The jail time was well worth it, I must say. And I'm sure it took BP months to dig all those twinkies out of the machinery.

Ahhh...memories.
thegreencall
Dec. 5th, 2008 05:31 pm (UTC)
I'm still sorry that I let you talk me into taking that tango lesson with you. Between the medical bills for your concussion and the studio's broken window, it was the most expensive lesson I've ever took. I should never had tried that spin.
jennlynn_green
Dec. 5th, 2008 07:04 pm (UTC)
I know...I'm so sorry. I really wanted us to look good when we attended my ex's wedding but I should have known to stick with our standard square-dancing moves. The classics never go out of style.

I'm so glad that you're willing to give me another chance though.

I'll see you at break-dancing class next week! Huggles!
thegreencall
Dec. 5th, 2008 08:24 pm (UTC)
We do look fabulous when we promenade together, don't we? Oh, but I meant to call you about breakdancing. I'm still in traction after the last class. My prognosis is good, but I don't think I'll make the next one.
bolowolf
Dec. 5th, 2008 07:16 pm (UTC)
I admit, that at first I was disappointed. Well, kind of heartbroken at first. I mean, I was the one everyone was predicting to win the eco-friendly, sustainable fashion contest. It took me months to get the dyes the right color! But, you were so incredibly glamorous in the corn silk dress you made! I've never seen anything shimmer like that before, ethereal, brilliant, shiny. I don't even want to know your secret. You truly deserve to have won the contest.

I do, however, have a business proposal for you. It seems we could combine our efforts to come up with several different fashion lines that everyone will want, and not just this season.
jennlynn_green
Dec. 5th, 2008 07:35 pm (UTC)
Thank you my dear...you are too kind. With you and only you will I share my secret: mastication.

Yes that's right...I chewed all that corn (husk, silk and all) and wove the spit-softened fibers together. Something about the enzymes in my saliva gave the fabric that unearthly glow. Who knew?

While chewing fabric for an entire line doesn't seem practical, I do think our combined talents could take the fashion world by storm. Let's put our head's together!
roy_batty
Dec. 5th, 2008 07:37 pm (UTC)
A memory that "dies hard" . . . part 1
I remember when you, a detective with the New York City Police Department, arrived in Los Angeles to attempt a Christmas reunion with me (your estranged husband) attending a party thrown by my employer, Takagi, at the high-rise Nakatomi Plaza. While you refreshed yourself from the flight in my corporate room, we had an argument over the use of your maiden name,but I was soon called away. As the party continued, a group of terrorists led by Hans Gruber seized the building and held the partygoers as hostages, under the pretense of releasing various terrorist operatives from prison for the hostages' safe release. You, able to disappear unnoticed into the building's maintenance areas, learned that Gruber was actually after $640 million in bearer bonds stored in the building's vault using the hostage situation as a cover. You were unable to stop Gruber from shooting Takagi at point blank range when he refused to hand over the safe's combination.

Your attempts to alert the local police by pulling the fire alarm were noticed, and became a target by some of Gruber's other men. You were able to kill them, securing one of their radios and a quantity of C4 explosives and detonators from the dead terrorists. Though Gruber and his men could hear you over the radio, you anonymously contacted the Los Angeles Police Department, who sent Officer Al Powell to check the building. Though Powell found nothing amiss, your were able to get his attention by dropping one of the corpses on Powell's patrol vehicle. Powell recognized by your language that he you were cop though you kept your anonymity, and learned enough about the situation to report to headquarters; Powell's report caused the situation to quickly escalate, and the SWAT team soon arrived to try to storm the building. You attempted to get Powell to stop the SWAT team, knowing they were walking into a trap, but Powell couldn't convince his superiors to stop it; the team was repelled by terrorists with guns and the following SWAT tank was disabled by a rocket launcher. To stop the carnage, you dropped the C4 down the elevator shaft to destroy the floor the terrorists were firing from. As Gruber's men attempedt to find and subdue you, Gruber then addressed over the radio to you that he knows who you were and demanded that you return the detonators or else he would shoot one of the hostages. You refused, and Gruber followed on his promise by killing the man who had sold out your identity to him, much to the horror of the police force who heard everything on radio. You continued to keep moving through the building to try to learn Gruber's plans, unknowingly meeting him face-to-face; Gruber gained your trust by passing himself off as one of the building employees, but when Gruber's men returned to meet him, you were forced to flee, dropping the detonators as you left.
roy_batty
Dec. 5th, 2008 07:38 pm (UTC)
A memory that "dies hard" . . . part 2
The Federal Bureau of Investigation arrived and took control of the situation, demanding that they shut off the building power while they attempted to raid the building from the top floors. Gruber planned for the FBI's predictability; disconnecting the power would open the final electromagnetic lock on the vault, while he had used the detonators to rig the helipad on the building's roof knowing the FBI will attempt a sneak gunship attack on the building. The terrorists, after learning that Gruber's initial demands have been met, forced the hostages to the roof to be transferred to the FBI helicopter, but you were able to get everyone inside safely before the helipad exploded, the helicopter caught in the explosion. Though the rest of the hostages were able to escape, you learned that Gruber has discovered from a investigative newscast from over-eager reporter Richard Thornburg that I was your husband, and was personally holding me hostage to prevent you from interfering in his getaway. You, down to your last two bullets, was able to lull Gruber into a trap, dispatching the last terrorist and mortally wounding Gruber. Gruber, releasing his grip on me, fell back through a window, but managed to hang on to my wristwatch, his weight dragging me out the window as well; you were able to unstrap the watch and lets Gruber fall to his death. Meanwhile, Theo, Gruber's technological assistant, was detained by your limo driver, Argyle, after collecting the bonds.

We left the building together, and met Officer Powell; Powell, who had not fired a gun since he accidentally shot a child years ago, managed to shoot one of the terrorists who was still alive before he could harm us from behind. When Thornburg attempted to interview the us as we were leaving the scene, I punched him in the face. We took off in Argyle's limo as the building was secured by the police.
jennlynn_green
Dec. 5th, 2008 09:08 pm (UTC)
Re: A memory that "dies hard" . . . part 2
Oh that was an adventure...and I will forever enjoy signing my Christmas cards "Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker" in honor of that time.

Hey, will I see you next week at Washington's Dulles Airport? Surely nothing wacky will happen this time!
chelidon
Dec. 5th, 2008 08:36 pm (UTC)
Gosh, so many memories to chose from...

...well, there's the whole series of mishaps around the Teleporter Project:

...the time we got the timing confused, and both entered our respective portals simultaneously, and got scrambled on our way through (and dammit, *still* not in the same place). I mean, Evil Twin and all, sure, but when all of our parts got mixed up, that sure took a while to sort out... (and I still think I ended up with extra freckles)

...when some stray rose pollen from the garden found its way into the machine, and...well, let's just say you sure bloomed in unexpected ways (but ow! the thorns)

...and the time our own Evil Twins From A Parallel But Opposite Universe popped out unexpectedly. They were great fun to party with, sure, but I'm not sure that either one of us really looks good with a goatee.

...and finally, the time I got to sit in the audience to watch you accepting a well-deserved Regional Theatre Tony Award (and you in that designer gown, just FABULOUS dahling...) Oh. wait, sorry, that's still in the future, whoops...
jennlynn_green
Dec. 5th, 2008 09:19 pm (UTC)
Ah yes, the teleporter. We don't quite have the science worked out yet do we? At least we only mixed all of our parts up that one time; don't complain about the extra freckles...how do you think I like having chest hair?

And yes, our Evil Twins from APBOU were fun but odd. I mean who in their right mind refuses to eat dark chocolate and drink coffee; how does one fear cheese? And the constant napping...that was a drag.

I actually think I rocked that goatee. I'm pretty sure that three girls gave me their phone numbers that night. Do you think it will match my designer gown when I go to pick up my Tony?

See you there...and until then, I'm just going to keep blooming in ways that are only defined by me (DAMMIT!) ;>)
tarirocks
Dec. 5th, 2008 08:50 pm (UTC)
Hey, the surprise in your coffee this morning? Er....sorry.
jennlynn_green
Dec. 5th, 2008 09:19 pm (UTC)
Ewwwww!
cassiopia
Dec. 5th, 2008 09:01 pm (UTC)
I'm sure you remember this one:
There we were, neck deep in quicksand about to meet our demise, cursing the day we let the Count talk us into a "jaunt" down the Amazon, when out of the trees comes Tarzan, swinging on a vine. It all happened so fast I have no idea how he got us both out in time but before I knew it we were safely ensconced in his tree house sipping jasmine tea and the Count's plan to steal the Jewel of Montavardius was foiled for good. And that night, when we expressed our gratitude to our luscious rescuer, our night in leopard skin speedo...well I'm sure you remember that as fondly as I. *sly grin*
jennlynn_green
Dec. 5th, 2008 09:23 pm (UTC)
How could I forget...I still sometimes long for someone to slam me against a wall and call me Jane...;>)
sagamockingbird
Dec. 7th, 2008 07:38 pm (UTC)
Well, there was the Tae Kwon Do class we had with that hot instructor. I'll never forget how you 'slipped' and pinned him to the mat and after your shimmying snakey writhing on him (to the enjoyment/bemusement of the rest of the class, I must add) he hid in the locker room refusing to come back out.
( 19 comments — Leave a comment )

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