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This is a question Lies that got out of control

Ever claimed you could speak a foreign language to impress friends, colleagues and/or get laid? Make a twat of yourself - and I couldn't possibly comment - saying you were the godson of the chairman of BP? Tell us how your porkies have caught up with you

(Thanks to augsav and Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic for the suggestions)

(, Thu 12 Aug 2010, 13:03)
Pages: Popular, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

A friend and I...
...once convinced a group of, ooh, about fifteen people or so that someone else, known to all of us, had an anal piercing.

The key piece of testimony in the case for our friend's unfortunately perforated status was 'it's true, he sets off metal detectors at airports.'

So far I think the lie has been swallowed hook, line, and sinker.

That's the trick, kids. Always provide a convincing piece of extraneous detail.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 18:37, 1 reply)
"Don't worry luv...."
".....we'll tell them we went the restaurant and she did a runner."

Signed Mr Mccann
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 18:35, 2 replies)
I used to tell lies to people so they'd have sex with me.
It's hilarious and not creepy.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 18:34, 1 reply)
shirley bindun?
"They've taken her, they've taken her!"
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 18:09, 1 reply)
A lie that well out of control....
Many moons ago, when I was a wee nipper about 8 or 9. I used to use my dads CB radio when he wasn’t at home during the day, especially during the school holidays. Now bearing in mind I came to England from Rhodesia 1978 the transition from wild out doors to council estate often left me totally bored, so it was obvious I’d get up to no good. So one day on the CB me and a mate Andrew were pissing about winding everyone up when this couple came on chatting about America and how they’d love to go on holiday to visit. I put on a cheesy American accent and spoke into the mike
”Big Bear on the Air, all the way from USA” This couple were most eager to whisk me off to another channel to continue our conversation, and so we did. You name it I lied about it, the food, the cars, the weather and so forth. Eventually after an hour or so of keeping up this pretence they pipe up with.
”Do you fancy an eyeball?” For those of you only used to keyboard communication an eyeball was to meet another party from the CB radio, bit like B3TA piss ups! So my mate is egging me on saying “Yea lets meet them, I’ll be your English cousin and you’re here on holiday” What the fuck I thought, a story to tell the grandkids one day. Off we trundle on our BMX’s (getting ET nostalgia here!) to the local sweetshop where we had arranged to meet. Sure enough they turned up, Ken and Maureen. They were so nice and normal and basically very gullible. I felt ashamed to be fibbing to them but I started this so I’d better keep it up and laugh my fucking head off later telling the story to all my other pals. The meet lasted about 10 mins or so, and I couldn’t wait to get back home, abandon this nasty lie. This poor couple even brought a camera along to take a picture so they could show their friends they had met a yank, augghhhh utter mind piss!! Anyway all said and done we bid our farewells as I’d lied to them and said I going back to the States in a couple of days. Hugs and kisses all round, I felt so guilty. We pissed ourselves later, telling all our mates great wind up. Then one day, maybe a week or so later finishing off dinner, the front door bell rings. I wonder who that can be? “Oh” says my dad, “Nearly forgot, we invited a lovely couple we met in the pub the other night who are also CB fanatics over for drinks” Mother rushes the plates away, dad goes for the door. Now my tiny little brain just uttered a spark and I thought “No” chance in a million (er Allison) it can’t fucking be. As I sat at the table book up to my nose as dad greets the guests in ”Please come in sit down, make yourselves at home, this is our son…..” I peer over the book, God, you complete cunt! Still hiding my face with the book, my dad ushers me over ”Come say hello and put that bloody book down” My mind racing with all the different possible choices to take to get out of this terribly embarrassing situation. I came clean, lowered the book. Should have seen the look on Ken and Maureen’s faces, wish I’d had a fucking camera! I excuse myself sheepishly and say I’ll retire to my room and let my folks enjoy adult time. I heard just as I climbed the stairs Maureen ask mum
“Your son, he’s not American is he?” I covered my ears rushed to my room jumped under the bed wishing it was a bloody bad dream. Cut long story short, if you’re still awake? They buggered off home a few hours later and nothing was said that night until the next day when my dad met me in the kitchen. He just burst out laughing”Big bear on the air” he laughed like a mad man and put his hand out “You are a twat but that was a good prank, Ken and Maureen thought it was fucking hilarious” I still felt like a right proper tit though. No more lies, no more lies …
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 17:59, 5 replies)
Ssshh...
The lions will come and take Mummy away if you tell anyone about our special secret.

Sorry, sorry, sorry!
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 16:59, 6 replies)
Being There
The lovely Peter Sellers film, incorporates a scene where our hero, Chauncey is chatted up by an excitable gay bloke at some power-brokers' get-together in a hotel. Chauncey's response to the saucy fellow's suggestive line of questioning about 'what he likes', is an innocent, "I like to watch." Chauncey's dual passions being gardening and watching television. Fortunately Chauncey is rescued before the misunderstanding mushrooms.

At university I wanted to give myself an air of bohemian mystery and seriously considered proclaiming myself bisexual. Now that was a porkie that really could have caught up with me, given that I was as straight as a randy 19-year-old can reasonably expect to be. So instead I let it be known that I liked to watch. After a boozy evening out a mate and his girlfriend surprised me by asking me to bear witness to their shagging - an offer I could hardly now reject. Turns out I didn't like to watch after all. Poor Happybara.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 16:53, 4 replies)
When I was young I went to a different school to you.
It was terrible. All the girls were going out with nerdy boys from your school, and half the boys had transferred from your school after they got caught wanking in the toilets.

It was nice having all the female teachers that had sex with a kid at your school and had to leave though.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 15:59, 2 replies)
Scar
I have an operation scar on the front of my neck which isn't really visible unless I get a tan (infrequent in the UK but still possible).
I have been asked about it by various people and my favourite line is "I have a rare condition which causes catatonia, good job I woke up otherwise they'd have finished the post-mortem"!

Some people take longer than others to catch on
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 15:19, 1 reply)
Lost in translation
My friend had very respectful people visiting him from abroad and I thought it would be a good idea for him to greet them in their native tongue.

He thought I was teaching him to say "It's a pleasure to meet you" but what I actually taught him was "You've got big tits". For some reason I was the only one who found the whole thing rather amusing.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 15:12, 7 replies)
Gaylord's first post
"I've only had a half I'm fine to drive" - Henri Paul
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 15:12, Reply)
A guy I went to college with
used to brag that he had a one carat diamond left to him by his gran. Now, I knew at the time that his gran, although as mad as a bag of wire-hangers, was still alive and well. I also knew that both his parents were blind and were truly impoverished. No heating except for sitting around the oven door sort of poverty. His parents would certainly not be as skint as they were if there was a one-carat diamond kicking about that could be sold on.

Anyway, we got sick of his prattling on and told him to put his money where his mouth was sort of thing and provide proof, knowing full well that he couldn't.

Well, the next day he turned up at college and fished out a small blue velvet purse. He emptied it into his hand. If it was indeed a diamond, it would be more like a 60-carats. It was about the size of an almond and not particularly shiny. I was closest and I could clearly see it wasn't a diamond. It was more like a drop-crystal off of a light fitting. He brandished it loosely before slipping it back into the pouch so nobody got a proper look anyway.
I pointed out that it smelt of countryside somewhat and he flashed it about some more.

"Look see, a one-carat diamond" he protested.
Anyway, the subject changed as we all took it as bollocks anyway.

Later that afternoon we were leaving college and diamond-guy, me and another kid were just crossing the road, when someone pushed him to the floor and grabbed the purse from his pocket before running off. We helped him to his feet and I was bursting, trying to contain my merriment when the kid that pushed him over came back.

"This isn't a diamond, it's a piece of plastic off a lampshade you lying cunt" and bolstered his argument by pushing it into diamond-guy's mouth and cuffed him on the chin to shut his trap and stop him spitting it out. He then pissed off again.

I had to wander off to sit in the bus shelter before I fell over laughing when diamond-guy started spluttering and the other kid had to punch him on the back to stop him choking.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 15:09, Reply)
I once made a forum for people to tell funny anecdotes
but it descended into a mire of lies, autism and Honda Accords.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 14:46, 4 replies)
Back in the day...
When I was driving trucks around this wonderful green and lush land and causing chaos along the way I pulled out in front of a Middle aged lady on a roundabout forcing her to screech to a halt.
Cue much annoyence from this lady, following me, tooting her horn and flashing of lights Etc until I stopped for Diesel.

Lady: You could have killed me you nasty little man......blah blah witter

Me: Have you ever re read the bloody highway code you dense old mare? Vehicles with the most axles and wheels ALWAYS have right of way.

Lady "confused staring as she thinks......could that be true" Oh dear, Im so sorry young man, I had no idea blah blah etc

Although I dont know if ti DID get out of hand Im warmed inside by the thought of this lady still stopping on roundabouts and at every junction she finds with a truck waiting to let them out :)
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 14:39, 2 replies)
The high road
actually gets you to Loch Lomond more quickly. Sorry.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 14:34, 2 replies)
I used to have a really good mate from Uni called Ruth.....
....and in turn she had a good mate from home called Sarah. They used to go out round Derby (where I went to Uni) pretending they were Italian in an attempt to pull blokes and get free drinks. For some reason I got roped into this one evening despite me protesting that it wouldn't work with a bloke in tow. Anyhow we me met up with a bunch of lads with a couple girls with them. Sarah and Ruth went off and did their thing and the girls came over to me. Unfortunately one of them, the really really pretty one, was studying Italian at Nottingham University and after spouting what seemed like War and Peace at me in the form of a question the only thing I could think of bouncing back at her were the words "Alfa Romeo".
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 14:24, 2 replies)
Hold me closer, tiny dancer
I'm sure Prague is a wonderful city. I've been, but I can't attest to its potential cultural magnificence, going as I did with around 15 other blokes, most of them (collectively at least) being the type of guys who enjoy 'dancing' in clubs.

Thus is was mostly a process of: sleep most of day - shower in communal bathroom in shitty hostel - slap on cheap aftershave - down cheap beer - roam streets - night club - forrin greasy food - strip club - stagger home in daylight - sleep most of day.

Whilst in the transition period between flithy super-clubs and over-priced stripjoints/brothels, we were constantly being harrassed by what were essentially, pimps.

Trying to get us to go to their strip clubs, or presenting little cards with a variety of sexual services, like a menu. 'Autosexo' is sex, apparently.

To wind them up, we decided to making ludicrous demands of their services, claiming that we wanted to see chicken sex, snake sex, sex with a corpse, all kinds of shit we knew they could never provide. Always they would reply 'Haha no friend, we have normal sex, many beautiful girls for you!'.

However, one day, walking along the same stretch of road, someone says 'Yeah we want midget sex' -

'Yes friend, we have midget sex for you, this way!'

'Haha - wait, really?'

'Yes, pleaase!'

Confused, intruiged, caught out - for whatever reason, we followed that pimp. He bundled us into a limo, which drove us for about 10 minutes to a secret location, which it turned out was 50 meters down the road and about 20 times round the block.

Still thinking this was a joke, we reluctantly paid the extortionate entry fee ('you take our limo - you pay for entry!') under the watchful gaze of some beefy bouncers/con men (we should have legged it), and were ushered through a gigantic strip club to a side room, where our theif/helpful guide proudly displayed a selection of pole-dancing midgets in 'sexy' lingerie.

These tiny strippers were throwing themselves around the poles like tiny, malformed 'Showgirls', thrashing their hair and exposing their crotches.

We had seen scantily-clad pole dancing midgets that we will never unsee. Our lie had gotten out of control.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 14:23, 11 replies)
My new housemate
The girl I'm going to be sharing a house with next year is Australian. During the course of our house-hunting, I noticed that she cannot tell any British accent apart, at all. We met one girl who was Scottish and she knew that she was speaking slightly differently but couldn't place it at all.

Click "I like this" if you think I should spend the next year telling her all people with Northern accents are from Cornwall, and so on.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 14:21, 11 replies)
A friend wanted to get some hormone-type pills when she was 14
Her mum insisted that she should have a written letter of permission.

She dutifully took the sealed letter to the docs, got the hormone things and her other prescription-type stuff. When she took the bag home, there was something in there that she didn't recognise. 'Oh, that's [neighbour's]' she says, snatching it out of her hand.

When she looked at the letter, there was a line in there saying 'she also gets travel diarrhoea, could she please have something for this?'.

It dawned on her that she got free prescriptions whilst the neighbour didn't, and her neighbour and mother were going abroad soon. Her mum had conned the NHS!

She forgot all about it until two years later when, asking for travel vaccinations, the doctor also offered her tablets for her travel shits.

Upon wondering what the fuck the doctor was on about, and figuring something out, she denied the diarrhoea and asked if she had needed a letter regarding the hormone pills.

'Of course not'.

She's in her 20s now and her mum still tells her she needs to get pills for her travel diarrhoea. She must have done this for ages and forgot that she was lying.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 14:09, Reply)
Me and my ex drunkenly told all our colleages that I was Claire from It's Orrible Being in Love when you're 8 and a Half
It went on forever and ever.
One lad rang his mum to tell her.
I was eight and a half when it was released, I am norther, and I did look like her.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 13:55, Reply)
Barry Chuckle has a degree from the Sorbonne
Even people I've just met are repeating this one now. Can't possibly admit that we made it up after a bottle of Buckfast. It'd sound weird.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 13:43, 2 replies)
A lie that got out of hand ...
I use an artificial left arm, and have had a lot of fun over the years answering the question 'how did you lose your arm?'

Never more so than in a pub in Putney many moons ago, chatting at the bar to a couple local hard nuts who looked like Phil and Grant in Eastenders.

Anyway, the question comes up, and, inspired I say something along the lines of ... "well, I'm a Chelsea fan innit, got it cut off with a machete at Fulham Broadway tube station a few years ago in a ruckus with Millwall ..."

Cue much back slapping and several pints bought, and the night becomes a blur.

Next day I'm in the pub again, and the barman goes 'You know who you were talking with last night, don't you?'

'No' says I.

'They were the Stevens brothers! Notorious small time South London crime family. If they ever find out you were taking the piss mate, they'll properly machete your other arm off!'

So, I never drank in there again, and now only use the old crocodile wrestling story ...
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 13:35, 4 replies)
I am the Walrus!
Goo goo g'joob g'goo goo g'joob!
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 13:34, 1 reply)
I did it as a joke, but it just grew and grew...
Several years ago I was a different person and this lie came back and bit me on the arse!

First a bit of back story.

I was technically a mature student when I went to University, at the grand age of twenty two. The reason for leaving it a bit late was simply that I was enjoying being a feckless wonder, riding my mountain bike and my friend's motorbikes and just being a wanna be. I finally went back to college and got a single paltry AS level, just enough to get me into a crappy college of Higher Education!

So I started to knuckle down and actually got some good grades... in my first year. My Second year was spent getting pissed and crashing my mountain bike a lot and finally I got all serious and studied hard for my third year.

As I started my third year, a fresher started who I became friends with and am still friends with to this day, which makes this even more shameful.

He asked me why I had left it a while before coming to uni. I think he expected stories of traveling or a great career. Telling him that I had been a lazy so and so and had spent far too much time hanging out and playing silly buggers felt wrong.

So I created a terrible back story of crime and guilt that had ended with me spending two years resting at her Majes pleasure! My crime had been to accidentally kill a friend while doing dangerous sports, specifically a climbing accident, which had me put away for Involuntary Manslaughter. He looked stunned and every one else laughed. I assumed that he, like my friends who actually knew me, had guessed that I was joking and just covering up a life of being a lazy cunt.

Oh no, he being a considerate and gentle soul felt sorry for my terrible past and the tragedy I had supposedly been a part of. Months went past and he was a little cautious about me, especially when I offered to take him climbing!

He was not impressed when he found out I had lied, especially with such an outrageous and nasty lie. I think I went down in his opinion that day.

You know that feeling when you have not only let yourself down, but your friends as well? I do...
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 13:22, 1 reply)
It's pouring with rain, but i digress...
Lies that get out of hand ...

Everything in the Daily Mail ?
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 13:10, 1 reply)
Not actually out of control...
When I was seven years old and "playing out" with some friends in the summer holidays, we decided to make a "den". This was, as usual, just a hollow in a ditch that we covered with twigs and sticks so we could hide in it and pretend to be army men. We came back to our den the next day and found another group of lads in it, from a different school but the same age as us. We didn't know them.

"Oi, that's our den! Get out!" I shouted.

"Yeah? Says who?" One of them shouted back.

There followed a bit of shouting to-and-fro in which seven year old boys did what they usually do when finding out who other people are: they ask how old you are.

It turned out, the group in our den were all seven years old. As it happened, our group were also all seven. I was the last to be asked. Inspired, I shouted, "well I'm EIGHT and I say get out of our den!"

Meekly and respectfully the other group left our den, said sorry and went and found somewhere else to play.

So thanks b3ta for reminding me that there has been a time when I've told a lie and it _hasn't_ got me into trouble!
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 13:09, 1 reply)
TenShun!
I was out playing with my mate Nicky, he was a know nothing 6 year old, where as I was a world weary 7.

I’d changed out of my school uniform before going out to play (my mum had middle class pretensions) but I was still wearing my school socks, grey with 2 blue hoops at the top.

“Why have your socks got stripes at the top?” asked Nicky. “These are my army socks.” I replied. “Army socks?!” Nicky whispered back, eyes growing wide. Yes I’m in the Army.

Nicky begged to be allowed to join up with me, but no, I had to explain that 6 years old was just too young. He took the news badly and went in a little tearful. So tearful in fact that his mum and dad asked him why he was upset.

It only took my older brother about 20 years to stop taking the piss about my time in HM forces.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 12:58, Reply)
Not one I started..
In a local a few months back, Billie Jean came on and immediately some guy started doing an elaborate choreographed dance routine that he'd obviously been working on all week in front of his bedroom mirror.

A mate of mine (straight after telling every woman on the dancefloor over the age of 40 that I fancied them, but was just too shy to approach them!) wandered over to him, interrupting the guy in full flow, and chatted to him a bit. And kept on pointing at me.

Five minutes later they both came over to where I was standing, at which point my mate said as way of an introduction "Oh, I've just been telling XXX about your work as choreographer for Usher. You two should chat". And promptly walked off.

I cannot dance for shit. No rhythm, nothing. But that didn't stop me talking shit for the rest of the night about my background in ballet, and how I wasn't insured to dance in public.

Everytime I see this guy, he always comes over with his friends and asks about how work is going, and what Usher's been up to. Seems to look up at me, as though I'm some kind of superstar. Haven't the heart to tell him it's a load of shit.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 12:49, 3 replies)
Iraq has WMDs
Signed,

T. Blair.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 12:40, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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