in memory...um

Had a squabble today about memory and whether or not you really can seal up a moment in an airtight Flavor-Pak (like beef jerky and some sundry dried fruits) as you see fit (like taking a concentrated brain snapshot whenever you like) or if memory chooses you more. How you remember the day you walked to the mailbox when you were 10 and nothing happened at all but, slam (like Onyx), there it is.

A City of Lost Memories (Moms, if you recognize one of these wastrel orphans, claim it and erase a bead of sweat from my frowsy amnesiac brow by doing so, thanks):

Larry Mullen, Jr. (of U2) has a special grey patchwork sweater made for him by a lady...and the memory then gets a split end that I can't mend with pro-vitamin conditioner and one of two things is then true: his future wifey made the togs or Bono's ladymate did. This may have been Tiger Beat magazine nectar...or maybe Big Bopper (or just regular-flavored Bop)???

My mom was stirring spaghetti sauce with a wooden spoon. She had spanked me with this spoon a few days before. I would not eat the spaghetti sauce.

For a nine-month anniversary present one time, I received (N)ips candy, a nice (I)nstamatic camera, (N)eutrogena soap, and (E)xtra cinnamon gum. I wanted to spread my spoils out on the carpet and take a picture (not a memory-one, a new-camera one) but then it'd just be "NNE".

Apocalypticcatastrophicescatology is the longest word this one kid could think of. He flipped his eyelids up and had brown ringlets.

fell on 2001-03-23 at 11:30 p.m.

<< o >>