Just a few loose ends to tie up. My dear friend, Ray Wong, is spilling all sorts of made-up secrets about me, on his blog. Something about a wild evening involving Chippendales dancers and Maker's Mark. I told him not to drink so much whiskey. Sheesh, can I help it if the guy is a total lightweight?
It's been meme-madness, and this is apparently the meme Ray is playing with:
"Monday Meme - December 19
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often) 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.
As always, I'd love it if you'd use the AWMondayMemes's tag."
Urm...Knowing the bunch of you that post here, I'm a tad bit hesitant, I gotta admit...
Also, the ever-lovely Unique tagged me to write to a photo prompt. You can see the photo on her blog, here.
I sort of cheated, and borrowed a couple of characters from the book-which-shall-not-be-named-lest-its-name-
summons-my-writing-buddies-to-nag-me.
So here goes:
Somehow, sometimes, storms cleanse the heart that holds them. From complete devastation, you find a place of serenity and simplicity from which you can begin again. Erin was like that, for Matt.
For the rest of his life, his loves would be defined by Erin. He felt certain of it, sitting alone, contemplating the ceiling of his apartment. He even found a small amount of satisfaction in the thought.
Last but certainly not least, go take the My Words Matter pledge. If for no other reason, take the pledge because you do know the power of words.
7 comments:
Mac,
When are you going to send me copies of those photos we took when we went horseback riding and saw Bigfoot? I told you I didn't mind if you sold them to the National Enquirer - I mean it *was* your camera and all. I just want a copy for the photo album.
You took my $83. And the ring. Give back the ring (Elvis wasn't pleased).
I'm sorry, Mac. I don't remember anything, but I can't find my car, and I'm pretty sure I wasn't wearing a thong when I left the house.
So THAT'S where my thong went! Last thing I recall, Mac strapped it around her chest and was singing "Thongs for the mammaries...."
I know you gave my sweater to Frank after we had all that egg nog, but do you happen to remember what happened to my Christmas thong? And whose pants are these - I don't think I own anything from Hudson's Bay Big and Tall shop...
I was wearing Frank's thong when I left the house. Please don't ask any more questions.
No wonder it's taking Mac so long to clean house!
And who left their spandex pants wrapped around the cactus?
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