LOOKIT ME, I'M A LEMMING.

[dizmo]

If you read this, 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.

By all means, have at. I'm curious. XD

Comments

[patheticat.livejournal.com]

Well my favorite fake memory of Erin is when we were hanging out in New York (our fabulously wealthy sugar daddies had flown us in for some r&r at the Plaza), getting our third botox injections of the week and listening to the local radio station. We looked as cool as we are (and not just because the bubonic plague had paralyzed our foreheads), and Erin, after her fourth bloody mary, thought it was be quite a gas to call in to the Howard Stern show.

She got through, her porn voice helping out quite a bit, and landed on the show. I sat in the green room and listened and had a fascinating conversation with a drunk guy and a midget.

So Erin's in the studio, being sexy and wooing the men of NYC when, all of a sudden, Erik Estrada walks in the door. I didn't know of Erin's long term CHiPs fetish, but Howard's producers had done their homework. Erin began to scream like a little teeny girl, grabbing all over Erik's corpus and mumbling about riding motorcycles naked.

She's been Steeny every since!