If you are reading this post, 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.
I’m anxious to read your stories and if you are going to do this experiment on your blog, let me know so I can come visit! Come on now, don’t be shy – have some fun and give me your best Big Fish Tale.
So, drop out of lurk mode and please, be creative. And, since I found this over at Do You Have Issues maybe you can post a false memory over at her blog, too.
btw, this little psycho put this on my blog, too.
Do you remember that time when we were hitchhiking through the mountains and we got lost because that truck driver with the big… dog left us in the middle of nowhere when we found out he was a cross dresser? I told you not to comment on his lipstick, but noo, you coulnd’t shut your trap. And we ended up walking to this lonely cabin hoping to find some food but all there was inside was a cot and grubby old wool blanket and a bloody table where someone had butchered up a deer? And little peices of gunk were stuck to the ceilings and walls and I thought it was so funny but you said it was creepy. And then that guy came in and scared the shit out of us and we stabbed him to death because we thougth he was that axe murderer we had heard about and then we had to drag his body through the woods so the wild animal would eat him and no one would know it was us. Weren’t those the days? I will never forget how we ran away from that crazed out bear all the way back to the interstate and the guy asked us where all that blood came from and you said I lost my virginity and boy did it make a big mess. I didn’t know you told him that tho and I kept wondering why he was straring at me and licking his lips. I thought maybe he was all hot and bothered by that blood and maybe he was the axe murderer and then you told me and I stabbed you in the leg… I don’t think you needed to spend a week in the hospital over a little stab wound. Why did you want to stay there so long? I had fun shacked up with that axe murderer while your were in the hospital. We killed 3 people while you laid around in bed for a week!
Your virginity brick! As girls, we sure had fun that summer between our 5th and 6th grades spending a week up at your Grandmama’s. I will never forget that rainy morning with the smell of pancakes and sweet maple syrup eddied up the stairs, stirring our senses as we slept soundly in that antique feather bed. You jumped up first and beat me to the crapper closet with that old fashioned toilet with the pull string to flush above our heads.
I danced and wiggled, hoping to God I wouldn’t pee myself as I waited in what seemed like forever for you to come out. Then I noticed it, a big red stain on your side of the bed. My best friend was hurt somehow and I rushed in the closet to check on you. There you were crying like crazy and so scared and so was I as I ran down the stairs to get your Grandmama.
I remember thinking how strange it was that your Grandmama seemed so calm and nonchalant over the situation. She told me to go back upstairs and that she would be up to explain things in just a minute. “Explain what?” I thought as I half wanted to run down the street to the Walkers to use their phone to call an ambulance. But your Grandmama reassured me that it would all be okay.
It was thank heavens and looking back, maybe we really shouldn’t have skipped school that afternoon in 5th grade when they separated the boys and girls and shown us that “Coming of Age” movie. But when your Grandmama helped you put on that garter-strap device with clips and that big 4 foot long pad – I prayed right then and there that my period would never come. No swimming? And my goodness, that thing went from your bellybutton, between your crotch and half way up your back. All I can say now, today… is thank God we discovered Tampax!!! That entrapment was terrible.
But the oddest of all was that Brick your Grandmama handed to you. It was just your ordinary red brick with a chip off the corner. Smooth on one side and rugged on the other. It looked very much like the ones that lined her garden walkway but this one had a magical purpose that Grandmama wouldn’t disclose. All that she told you was that if you ever had sex with a boy before you were married, you HAD to throw this brick through his bedroom window the morning after. No matter what or something terrible may happen to you.
What happened to you?
Do you remember our visit to Havana? On our last night there we got drunk on Mojitos and entered a salsa competition. Your dance partner was a 63 year old man who was only four feet eight inches tall. He spent the whole evening gazing longingly into your cleavage and forgetting his steps. How you walked away with the cup I will never know. Perhaps the judges were drunk too. It’s just a shame the customs officers confiscated it at the airport.