Sure, whatever.

Please post a comment with a totally fictional, made-up, not at all true memory of about me. You and me, me and my cats, something you heard about me, whatever. It can be anything you want — good or bad — but it has to be fake. Fact-checkers are standing by. Participation in this meme in no way obligates you to re-post the thought virus in your own journal, but you might be amused if you did. Because the world needs more funny.

Oh, yeah – EAT IT G 3 is tonight as well. This ought to be fun.


9 thoughts on “Sure, whatever.

  1. fortheonesilove

    So there we were. Super Bowl XL. Seattle was down, 18-20 with three seconds on the clock against the Colts.

    The Seahawks are 40 yards away from a game winning score. Tension is high. Time outs are depleted. Josh Brown steps on to the field.

    We all stand on our feet with baited breath and crossed fingers as the ball is snapped. Brown dashes up to the ball with but 1 second left on the clock.

    BAM. The ball is in the air, the gazes of every player, worker and fan in the stadium following close behind it. Time seems to stop as the clock hits zero.

    The ball soars through the goal posts. The referees step forward with raised arms. The same cry echoing through the hearts of every Seahawk fan throughout the nation.

    “IT’S GOOD!”

    Without a doubt, it was the greatest football moment we could have ever asked for – the Seahawks had taken the Super Bowl.

  2. rbmkalpha

    Severomorsk. Eight miles to Murmansk. It was 1994. Sergant Loog, PFC DJ Tyrant, Tifaheart, PFC Smashattack were in the back of the Blackhawk. I was piloting with tleberle as co-pilot. We were coming in low over the city. It was 0545 local and the sun was coming up past the artic ocean. Loog was on the side with the 50-caliber. It was low and fast, and the bitter artic air was sweeping through the cabin. I called in position, “Icon 6, bearing 2-1-0 to target in 5 minutes.” We were moving at over 100 knots. The guys were nervous. DJ Tyrant was the first to spot Soviet troop movements out to the south. The radar indicator pinged. In the distance an SS-5 missile soared off into the sky. It was stunning to watch. The radar control vehicle was our target. The Soviets had set up a small command and control center. The “Icon” choppers 1-6 were heading towards the position. We were Icon six. We pulled down hard and fast, as we approached the town, and then the wind began to pick up. As I was switching over to infrared the missile lock warning began to sing. I cut the collective and rolled hard, I literally saw the missile zoom past. Now we were low, but not out of danger. Danger came in the form of collision with terrain and small arms fire. Not to mention the howling winds that made moving the helicopter incredibly difficult. I struggled with the collective control and the stick and brought the copter back into control as we moved towards the block housing and warehouses. On the ground there were targets of opportunity, and Loog lit them up with the 50-caliber. They were scattered, seemingly easy targets like transport trucks and jeeps. I didn’t have the time to think about these people’s families as a troop transporter exploded as the depleted uranium rounds hit the gas tank. They fired back, bullets ricocheted and pinged on the side of the craft. One nearly took my foot off. The hydraulic line was hit, but Tlebrle was cool and switched it to auxiliary. Great new design if you ask me. We swung west towards the target. DJ Tyrant was still watching out the window. Then he shouted “RPG! RPG!” but it was too late. Bang. Smoke and fire. Tlebrle was struggling with the engine system. I heard the familiar tapping sound of him hitting switches, but we completely lost the hydraulics, and in a second half the displays went dead. I got on the horn, yelling “Icon 6, we’re hit, we’re hit!” I tried to get the craft to autorotate down, but I knew it was going to be hard. “Hold on!” Loog screamed, and we braced for impact. It seemed to all go in slow-motion. The blades were still rotating, we slammed into the side of the warehouse and the blades flew apart, and we smashed into the ground hard. After I second I unhooked myself, the helicopter was upside down and on fire. DJ Tyrant was out first, followed by Loogaroo. Tleberle had part of the building go through him when we struck the building. Tifa was KIA from the RPG explosion, he was too close to the back where it struck. Smashattack was dead too, I couldn’t believe it. I grabbed his M-16. They were nice guys but we had to move out or we’d be caught. DJ Tyrant kept saying “oh my god, oh my god,” and then he started opening fire in a daze at the approaching troops. They moved back fast. We were outnumbered from the getgo. Before I knew it we were in the snow with no clear way out. Gunfire everywhere and I knew the reds were moving into our position. We crashed at the confluence of three streets, forming an awkward T. Loog quickly started picking some guys off, but we had to move fast. Loog yelled for us to follow him. So we moved quickly in formation, I was stuck in the middle, with Loog on point and Tyrant covering the back. DJ Tyrant’s gun erupted as a jeep started to bear down on us, but it swerved off. It was one hell of a gunfight as we moved North. Guns going off. It was deafening. The snow would hit the barrel and evaporate away in a wisp of steam. “Where the hell are we going?” Tyrant screamed. Loog was taking the lead, and said we had to get to the drydocks where the LZ was going to be. (CONTINUED!)

  3. rbmkalpha

    It was pure hell. We were counting every casing ejecting from our guns. I realized I hadn’t called the position, so I got out the radio. All the meantime Loog and Tyrant were covering the back, taking out the small pockets of offence as they approached. I had the .45 in one hand and the radio in the other. I called in our position, and the FC said they would get an APC in. Suddenly there was an explosion, and we looked down another street. It was a tank. We dashed for cover, the streets had become more narrow, and we were stuck. Three troops in the front. Tyrant saw it and opened up, got the first two and the third made it for cover. We scurried on as fast as we could. The tank was following us. Tyrant said he had two claymores, so we decided to set a trap. The tank rolled past, and we waited for the right moment with the first one. Bang. Did some damage to the treads. We aimed them to fire down the alley into the street. All the time we were scared to death we were going to get pinned in the alley. Then the troops came and bang, we triggered the second one. We couldn’t stop. The military GPS was tracking our position, and the final few blocks weren’t too difficult, but none of us stopped firing. The increasing amount of American forces threw off the Soviets, and it was clear from a distance they were going to be moving to Murmansk. It musta’ been a half-hour, but we finally reached the APC. Loog got a medal of honor from that one. We’ll all remember the first battle for Murmansk that started there. I talked to him later, and Loog just told me that war was hell. We had to fight the battles here, but there would always be that other battle waiting for us at home. It was just us three, but within a month it would be two who headed home – DJ Tyrant choked to death on an MRE during the operation at Archangelsk. I still have nightmares about the streets, and the gunfire. I see Tifaheart, Smashattack and tleberle in the snow, and it’s the same thing. It’s burning. The chopper is burning, and everything else is this dark smoky fog. They’re just staring at me, this horrible accusatory stare. Loog comes by carrying the 50-caliber, and he stares at me, and his eyes are just black. There’s nothing there. Then he starts screaming. Then in the back you can see the Soviet soldiers, just these barely visible forms in the smoke, and there’s silence, just the crinkling of snow, the fire is totally silent and engulfing. Then I see DJ Tyrant, and he hands me an MRE, and then he just… explodes. Sometimes I wake up screaming, it’s not as bad as it used to be, though.

  4. djtifabal

    Tifa was KIA from the RPG explosion, he was too close to the back where it struck.
    I’m a ‘he’ now? 😛

    That’s a great story there though. Better than what I can come up with. 🙂

  5. smashattack

    I remember the time you won two nightstands and a phone shaped like a beer bottle on The Price is Right.

    And Bob Barker asked you to dinner shortly thereafter. 🙂

  6. gsnnwriter

    DDR Memory

    I remember when you performed DDR for ANT.

    Oh yeah, you were nekkid.

    You mumbled something about performing for 50 year-old and over men and how you liked to add special sauce on their pizza, but I don’t completely remember it.



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