Do You Remember The Time

Dear Stephie,

You're not going to be here long enough for us to properly reminisce so I thought I'd cover a few of the basics on here. I'm going to do it in our traditional Michael Jacksonesqe format:

Do you remember the time I got homesick at the apartment and didn't know how to tell your dad to get to my house even though it was only like four blocks away. I'm happy to say my sense of direction has improved since then.

Do you remember how we used to play barbies for hours, and how complicated our plots were? Menendez barbie, drug rehab barbie, that game we always played where one of the girls started out living in the trailer? Possibly our barbies had more sex than any other barbies in the history of the world; what naughty little girls we were?

Do you remember being Missy Mondew? Sitting at the card table making crank calls with the rotary phone? We used to write numbers on the wood beam under the phone, so respectful of our environment.

Do you remember the night we invented our band Puberty Blues and you wrote our hit song This Is Me But Look At You? The greatness of that song lives on today at many an Australian high school prom.

Do you remember meeting Mike Hash on the hill behind Hills and smoking weed in the bushes? That was one horrible mustache that boy had.

Do you remember when I was so depressed and you were the only one who could make me laugh?

Do you remember the time I came to your house to beat you up and ended up spending the night instead? And we gave Jamie whiplash and then watched a crap ton of Bennie Hill.

Do you remember how I kept breaking Dave Nicely's car? He was super pissed. Ass.

Do you remember my backless patchwork shirt? I really miss that shirt, it was a good one.

Do you remember June and us running frantically across the boardwalk when we had quite enough time to walk?

Do you remember lounging on the trampoline in your backyard? And the time you tried to give me a strawberry flop and your feet landed in my crotch? Don't worry the trauma didn't affect my ability to bear children.

Do you remember when you moved to Vegas and we cried like little bitches? I'm still mad at your mom for making you leave.

Do you remember living in the suites? Our pink palace, "here's the living room/kitchen/dining room/den/reading room/bar". We had more fun in the place than any resident before or since.

Do you remember when Mike slept through your first date and I was all like "this guy sucks!"? You might have wanted to listen to me my beautiful, darling girl.

Do you remember our lists of why it was OK to wake each other up? Winnings over $500, Tom Hanks/Colin Farrell showing up to have sex with us, the desire to shop, fire that could not easily be put out with an extinguisher.

Do you remember our Wednesday night Sex and the City/food marathons?

This is the bare bones dear, and I've saved the most important one for last:

Do you remember the time we ate that honey baked ham?

Love you Gagar,

Your one & only band mate Leggle