Better yet . . .

"Post a false memory of me. It can be anything you want, so long as it never happened. Then post this to your journal. See what people don't remember about you."

Thanks to green_amber.
Good one!
Scaling the Matterhorn together on New year's Eve 1932, wearing only black dunlop Wellingtons and wooly hats, just to prove it could be done! At the summit we discovered that you'd left the sandwiches back at the Pension where the whole sorry escapade had been conceived.

We resolved to lay off the Schnapps, at least until the frostbite had healed! Heady days!
Well, there was always the time you spilled cider on someone's plasma rifle and burned down half of Corby. Nasty business. Surprised we got out of there alive really, although that always applies where Corby's concerned.
How well I remember that day when you were lugging another amp across the state of the Hammersmith Odeon. "Hey, Joe," you yelled. "Why not name it London Calling?"
About ten minutes later I dropped that amp on Ian Dury's foot. I learned some new words that day, let me tell you. I'm not sure he ever lost the limp.
I'll never forget the first time we met. I was wearing black, you were resplendent in a red sequinned ballgown which complemented your eyes. You smiled as you clenched a dew-sprinkled rose between your teeth, hitch your long maribou-trimmed skirts up around your waist, and climbed the statue outside the Q club to crown it with a traffic cone.
There are so many, but of course the one that sticks most in my mind (as I'm sure you know) is the look on your face when you woke up from the chloroform. T was driving the van, of course, so I was sat in the back with you, waiting for you to come round - and when you did, and realised that I'd actually done it, your expression was priceless.

It was a good weekend, that. I never did get the carpet back to normal.

we were cooking the sausages, when graham walked in holding a jar of paste. we looked at eachother for about 5 seconds before we all burst out laughing. How could we have made such a mistake?
Of, course, the involuntary colonoscopy we all performed on Vermin from the Potterrow Committee just before he left. the results were quite surprising, as I recall...
Yes. I still hear that story doing the rounds as "a pint of sperm" rather than "a pint of spermaceti". How little people suspect.
It still makes me look back and chuckle to this day, when I cast my mind back to that uncomfortably close, humid evening that amazing summer, reliving the time when I trapped my hand in your car door as you drove to Troutbeck in Penrith to buy illegaly grown sweet chestnuts from that man with the long, thick rainbow beard. How we sniggered and joked collecting my skin from the northbound carriageway of the M1 and howled with amusement searching for my kidneys from the juction with the M62 outside leeds. I'm still pretty sure my pancreas is still hanging in those trees on the A66 at Scotch Corner. Happy days. Happy days.
I checked about your spleen, by the way - the one I gave you was actually Malcolm MacLaren's. Yours is in the cloakroom at the Natural History Museum, checked in under the name Piddock.
for some reason the memories of you in fish net and high heels seem dull in comparison to others fond memories *sigh* ah well
Mmm. That marvellous night of sadomasochistic delights we shared in the Wellingborough Travelodge on the way home from visiting Oxford for a Queen Adreena gig. Trying not to laugh at the croissants next morning was the hardest thing I've ever done :)
Two years later I saw our faces on their noticeboard in Boise, Idaho. We're still banned from Travelodges worldwide, you know.
Well, that's what you get for Travelodging things in each others... parts with the room door open.

Couldn't resist the terrible joke :D
I never did congratulate you on winning Ready Steady Cook dressed as an iguana, did I? Beats the pub quiz any day.