hertinkness | What are your fake memories of me?

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What are your fake memories of me?

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, 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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I recall, very vaguely, a pub crawl through the streets of Glasgow which ended with you singing the collected works of Queen with a visiting Swiss soccer team.

I seem to remember you dancing on the bar to it. :)

Well, there was that coalbed gas well we were sitting, you know, the one where we used a diamond-drill to run the casing and the hydrological test string?

I remember sitting in the doghouse doing the dailies, and then there was this loud screeching noise and a crash. You looked out the window and said "holy shit!", and the Baker-Hughes guy ran out onto the lease waving his hands like a madman.

We fished for two days, and when we got the tool out of the hole, it was bent like a lightning bolt, hanging from one thread on the placement sub. And the Baker-Hughes guy pulled out the instrument section, and get this! All the recorders were still running.

I remember how surprised you were that we got useful data, even though we had to pay a hundred-thirty thou for the tool damage.

Hoo yeah, I remember that- but a hell of a lot worse came out of my mouth than "holy shit!" I think I may have invented some new ones.

well, yeah, but we **were** in mixed company, and the Baker-Hughes guy was religious and conservative, and everytime **he** swore he apologised profusely, so.....

was a damn shame that the client went bankrupt and we got stiffed on our pay-cheques, though!

Experience of a lifetime, though. We wouldn't be who we are today without it.

True, even if the Pennsylvania DEP has a warrant out for my arrest.

Good times.

I remember the day I flew over to your home town and we drank some Blue Hawaiis on the beach, followed by a weenie roast and an exciting evening hurling flaming marshmallows into the surf.

Good times, good times...

It was really cool when that seagull swooped down and grabbed one just after it had been extinguished.

I'm not going to say anything. I'm still amazed that you managed to run that far with that many bullets in your leg, and I've never seen a woman with that good an aim with a potato peeler. I should have married you when I had the chance, but we can just chalk your rejection to the Dilaudid, right?

To be honest with you, so am I- but I guess there's a number of things a body would rather do than die, especially in the belly of a fishmonster. Urgh.

Ah - a fishmonster. So THAT's why you chartered that old patched-up second-hand Zeppelin, asked me if I could navigate, and then filled the cargo hold with boxes marked "harpoons". I'd thought we were off to discover the lost Mayan city of Rui-rama and remember expressing surprise when you demanded we headed towards the South China Seas.

While it was a shame we were shot down by Cossacks over the Crimea, at least it all makes sense now.

Was it not you with whom Bertrand Russell, Wittgenstein, and I spent a stimulating evening in Vienna discussing Wahrheit?

It got rather heated, didn't it? Well, I'm sure you know my opinions on the romanticism of the working class by now. I hope he got those wine stains out of his clothes...

Whereof one cannot speak, thereof must one be silent.

I remember being in the same modern art class with you junior year of college, and I was like "OK, this girl is either really cool or really snobby." But then after that god-awful midterm almost the whole class went to Skully's and that girl - I totally remember it was Stacie with an i-e - asked you "So, you're a geology major, right? So, is Estonia like, even a real country?" And the look on your face made me snort Amber Bach through my nose. But you were so nice to her and explained her misunderstanding, and we all drank lemon drops and professor bashed.

Yeah, sorry about that! I took things a little out-of-order, and that was the second semester of my freshman year. I had no idea what I was doing, my roommate and her boyfriend were "cuddling" every other night, and I was still getting used to not being at the bottom of the social heap in high school, so I was a little shy and socially awkward. The people in that class really helped me come out of my shell!

The professor was still a dick. Antidisestablishmentarianism my ass.

Remember that time that we got together to watch a few episodes of the X-Files and you wandered out to take a bathroom break and intercepted that really hot SWAT team dude coming through the bedroom window? It was SO funny that your neighbor was overheard talking about having a really deadly bong and someone thought he said bomb and the SWAT team got called in and they got the wrong damn house. Man, that was SO weird. It was like something out of the X-Files, yo--especially when we got called in for questioning, and that poor SWAT dude got lost, and we ended up at that really sketchy Dunkin Donuts next to the gas station where everyone says the hookers hang out but really...they're just trannies...

I swear, I'm never going to look at a pack of sardines the same way again!

Oh man, me neither. And he turned me off of Cheetos for LIFE, which is saying something.

Initially, when you proposed a backpacking trip around Alaska, I was skeptical. It did, however, prove to be the most interesting and eventful trip back to my home state I've had.
First of all, I want to say that your alcohol tolerance is impressive. Not many people can stand after that much Alaskan moonshine, especially uncle John's. I've never seen someone who can sing on key after the tenth shot, either.
I've been terrified of bears ever since that incident with the starving one when I was ten. Stumbling back from the cabin, still drunk on moonshine, was not the best time for an incident. I lost it. Luckily for me, you didn't.
I'd heard stories of people managing to kill charging bears by strangling them. It's another thing to see someone you know punch down a grizzly's throat and strangle it. I have no idea how you managed to think that fast while it was all happening.
I owe you my life. I'll never forget it.

I don't remember much about that night. So that's how I got that scar on the back of my hand...

It's also how you got marriage proposals from half the men in the Alaska Miner's association.
The other half were married.

That kiss...

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What are your fake memories of me?

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