I'm exceptionally good at lying.
My tales of fantasy and untruth are so intricately wound that not only do they deceive the listener, they confound the senses and make me look dead clever, and that.

No tales of massive drugz or honda accords for me. The most unbelievable stories of adventure constantly pour from my lips as I astound gathered crowds at tales of my wonderful travels. A pensive hush falls over the huddled patrons of any bar I frequent as I hold forth on subjects which I have no actual knowledge of. Such is my skill, however, that the crowd cheers and carries me shoulder high, pronouncing me mayor and crying out my name, or the name they think I am called, anyway, ah-ha. Yes.

It's just that I'm a bit busy at the moment. I have some shelves to put up. And my wife, she's a supermodel, you know, she's been nagging me to do it. And I've got to walk the dog.

So I'll tell you the stories of my amazing lies that got out of hand once I've done all that. Unless I forget. I'm incredibly busy, you know. You'll like them, you will, they're dead good.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Tue 17 Aug 2010, 16:16, Reply)