I could have been a pet shop boy...

[robinbloke]

Ah memories, twisted into small strands and woven around in curls that seem to form endless spirals out into oblivion.

I remember that time we got caught trying to change the paint pots for the forth bridge to tartan.

The highlight of my work day is likely to be putting up Christmas decorations this afternoon; so I pounce on a meme and shake it until it's blue; post me a memory of myself, g'wan I'll buy you a biscuit, a memory that is utterly totally made up - preferably amusing.

Comments

[siranui.livejournal.com]

Do you remember that night we went out on the lash in Liverpool? For some reason we woke up on the beach in CUBA. I don't really remember much of the night, apart from that smokey club with the awesome Cuban saxophone player.

The really freaky thing was that you were so calm about it and said you'd got it covered. You just got Fidel's number off your mobile, and gave him a ring. He sent a tank convoy over to pick up up and we had breakfast with him on the veranda around a table covered in a blinding white tablecloth, antique silverwear and fresh tropical fruit. I still had a chronic hangover, but it really cleared up after breakfast. We then all said our farewells, we promised to send him the Tellytubbies DVDs and David Atenborough DVDs he wanted when we got back to the UK and he arranged a limo [complete with cuban flags on the front fenders, of all things!] to take us to the airport.

Hell of a night out!

[robinbloke.livejournal.com]

Damn that was something, I remember fidel offered you a position as a general on his staff for some international relations role or other, but what with you working for MI5 at the time you had to turn it down...