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This is a question Bullshit and Bullshitters

We've had questions about lies and liars in the past, but this time we're asking about the sort of fantasist who constantly claims they've got a helicopter in the garden or was "second onto the balcony at the Iranian Embassy siege". Tell us about the cobblers you've been told, or the complete lies you've come out with.

Thanks to dozer for the suggestion

(, Thu 13 Jan 2011, 12:55)
Pages: Latest, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, ... 1

This question is now closed.

Which one of these is bullshit?

1) Magnus Magnusson once asked me for my autograph;

2) I once woke up and found that, overnight, my skin had turned to scales, all over my body - so that I looked like a reptile;

3) My ex-girlfriend was a stripper, but I had to break up with her because she kept doing her act in front of my mates

4) My dad is a minister in the Church of Scientology

(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 14:08, 28 replies)
Why the sauce is special
I convinced a mate at Uni that cocaine is a natural by product of Coca Cola (hence the name Coke dummy). However in the 1950's Coke was forced by the US Government to remove the cocaine from it's universally loved soft drink. For three decades they were forced to dispose of vast amounts of grade A charlie by literally pouring it down the drain until one day some bright spark came up with the idea of selling it to McDonalds.
McDonalds add cocaine to their Big Mac special sauce. It's why when you eat a Big Mac you get a slight buzz, feel hungry again almost straight away and usually need to take a shit within an hour. It's true mate. Big Mac's have coke in them :-)
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 13:45, 1 reply)
My mate Nathan
once claimed that he was forced to work triple shifts, 6 days a week, at the restaurant where he worked. My suspicion was confirmed by his family telling me he's in bed most of the day, and that he had to borrow £20 off me (and I've only got a shitty weekend job!) so he could top-up his phone.

This isn't the first bit of bullshit, and God knows it won't be the fecking last.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 13:39, 2 replies)
Until it closed recently, I spent more years than I care to remember in a rock pub in Birmingham which, for the sake of this tale, we shall call 'Costermongers'. Now Costers had a resident cast of strange and unique individuals, but for my money, the king of them all was Rambo.

Although I talked to him regularly for twenty years, I never knew his real name. This was because, no matter what time of day you rolled into the pub, Rambo would be either almost pissed, pissed, completely hatstand or, if you caught him early enough, seriously hung-over.

Now Rambo wasn't your typical rocker. Ok, he wore jeans and boots so typical of us as a breed, but no matter whether it was June or December, Rambo only ever wore a leather waistcoat as his sole upper garment. This was to show off his tattoos. Not for him the tribal patterns or skulls and flames, no, Rambo had black panthers.

The story was that the love of Rambo's life had been cruelly done away years ago with by a renegade motorcycle gang; the 'Black Panthers' and Rambo had chased them down one by one and murdered them in revenge. Every time he offed another bad guy, on went another tattoo. I once asked him how come I'd never heard of them. I mean, Hell's Angels, yes. Cycle Tramps, check, but Black Panthers? Nothing doing. This, according to Rambo, was because 'they were all dead' (obviously).

Everyone in the pub knew this tale, as Rambo would retell it regularly. Over the years, the number of panther tattoos increased too, as more were tracked down and dispatched. I once asked how come he wasn't inside forever for killing all these bad boys over a twenty year period, but all I got back was the mysterious line "I've got contacts".

All this horseshit was delivered in an amiable and friendly way though, and everyone in the pub liked Rambo. Inexplicably, he was a hit with the ladies, too, despite him being the wrong side of fifty, toothless, bald, five foot seven and about nine stone dripping wet.

In a nutshell, Rambo was a one-off; a total character. When Costers shut down, Rambo, for some reason, never made the five minute walk to Scruffy Murphy's (Brum's other rock pub) like the rest of us, he simply disappeared. God help me, but I miss the old goat...
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 13:24, 1 reply)
Zoo fibs
I am a pretty inept liar, as evidenced by my response to the QOTW a couple of months back where I attempted to score a free fringe trim and ended up married to someone called Mr Williams.

However, this didn't stop all of my friends refusing to believe me when I returned from a trip to the zoo last year and started talking excitedly about the exotic animals on show.

"What was the best thing there, then?"
"Definitely the fanged deer."
"You what?"
"These fanged deer they had. About half the size of a normal deer, nondescript, really, apart from the fangs."
"Aye right."

This went on with each person in the conversation. I know what I saw, though, and was getting increasingly frustrated at their incredulity. Even swearing on my mum's life didn't help.

So a fortnight ago on a group sortie to the zoo (one of our pals works there) I saw a great opportunity to vindicate myself, and dragged everyone towards the enclosure.

They were SLEEPING.

Still, there was a picture on the fence...

I still can't quite believe they exist myself, but I was not fibbing.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 13:06, 4 replies)
Growing up in SA, snakes are a bit of a concern from time to time...
A friend of mine (lets call him Garth, for that is his name) had been grounded by his mother for being a little shit and had therefore snuck out to play in the bundu/scrubland outside with a friend. He must have been around 8 or 9...

Anyway, they made bows and arrows as boys do and used bits of glass for the arrow heads. Garth got shot in the leg, just a small cut but it bled a bit. He realised that he was now going to be in serious shit as his mother would see the wound/blood on his clothes etc and know that he had been outside playing. In short, he was fucked. Until he had a brainwave:
he ran home screaming for his Mom saying that he had been bitten by a 2 metre long black snake. After he had been bitten he had tried to get the poison out with the glass and squeezing like he had seen on MacQyver. His Mom obviously associated black snake with black mamba and almost had a coronary. She called the doctors who were not prepared to take any chances, so they got the medical helicopter from Groote Schuur hospital to pick him up, and fly him straight to hospital where he spent 3 days being observed.

30 years later he is still too shit scared to tell her the truth and she still goes on how her baby was almost killed by the mamba.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 12:57, Reply)
Strange Little Man
Rambling story. Read at your peril.

Going back 20 years I used to practice Aikido (no, this isn't the bullshit part...) and I was also part of a core element that liked to tour other clubs for extra training especially when coming up to a grading. It was hard work but all fun and games, and we were pretty good to be fair.
There happened to be a very rural club that we used to pop along to quite regularly (as it was close) but a few of the members there were, to be honest, really shit. For some reason they really thought their ability was far better than it actually was, and would often use brute strength rather than basic principles (I'm going off topic here, so...)

One chap there was very odd, very intense, little ability and stiff as a board. He was indeed a Strange Little Man. He would also whisper about his times in the army and his various trips to far away places, and various far eastern women he had gone down on. He was quite obviously a bit bonkers and we tended to steer clear of the Strange Little Man.
Some years later I joined the army myself and after awhile found myself being deployed to Bosnia for picnic duties. We were based in Sarajevo (Zetra then Terme) and were peacekeepers for the declared peace. I'm not sure who declared it but it certainly wasn't the locals, and it took them a few weeks to cotton on to the whole Stop-Shooting-People-Idea. After things calmed down the base became the hub of any negotiations between the various factions and there was a constant stream of hele traffic in and out of the place.

One particular week every big-wig that wanted to say something had been ferried into the place and along with it the vast amount of security, providing close protection, that would have come along for the ride. SAS rubbed shoulders with SBS, Navy Seals and probably B&Q to boot.
So there I sat along with a few mates having a game of Connect 4 in purpose built cafe and it was heaving with various SF wanting to grab a tea, coffee, root beer etc. I happened to glance over to one group of said nutters sat in the corner.

And there he was, the Strange Little Man. No doubt it was him.

So. There you go.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 12:54, Reply)
People are too used to children telling lies.
They never think that something unusual might be true.

Aged 5 years old, first few weeks at "big School"
Playtime comes and the important discussion before our game of war regards who's to play what part. Almost everyone wants to be a pilot and win the battle of britain, I know that I'm a shoo in because I have a massive trump card.

Sez I, "My uncle Rob has a spitfire"
Sez another lad, "Do he doesn't!"
"Yes he does, I've been in it, it's purple!"
(ensuing fight broken up by teacher)
"But miss he tells lies! He says his uncle has a spitfire!"
Teacher chimes in "Now Now, dont tell lies."
"But he does, he goes to the shops in it, and comes to our house in it, and he took me to the park in it, and it's purple, and it's real!"
Teacher now looking apalled at the utter whopper I'm clearly telling. "Well really! I think it's time you stood in the corner 'till you learn to tell the truth."

I stood in that bastard corner for the rest of the day, alternately crying like a child* and telling the teacher that I would not recant. My uncle Rob drives a spitfire, it's purple, and I've been to the park in it.
End of the day and Dad comes to pick me up, W're both taken to one side by teacher who tells my Dad that I've been an utter horror for the entire day. Insisting on this stupid and clearly indefensible lie about my uncle and his aeroplane.
Dad looks blank, "aeroplane ? Rob's not a pilot, he doesn't fly anything. Just drives around the place in a tatty old Triumph Spitfire..."

"Told you Miss, I TOLD you..."

*Well, what do you expect, I was five...
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 12:52, Reply)
Master of bullshit - Moi
In my (albeit rather short) time on this planet I have met many impressionable types, ripe for a good bit of bulshittery.

For example, I once convinced a girl I knew that I was a Scuba Diving instructor when we were 15 (I'm now actually enrolled in a diving instructors course, so if they ever come back, I've got some back-up...)

I also convinced a small child that ducks were in fact psychic, which is why they run away from you if you walk behind them, and that they are in fact deaf because they have no ears.

I also told a friend when we were 10 that my dad could fly planes (This later actually turned out to be true, who would have thought it?)

However, mine pale in comparison to a friend of mine who at the age of 19 still continues to pull the most ludicrous stories out of his arse

"My dad lives in China, and said we should all go visit him, he even said he'd pay for our tickets" When later asked when we'd go to China he said "Oh, he was made bankrupt by the Chinese government"

He also claims he can smoke an ounce of weed a day, so, at a party I bought an 1/8 with me and rolled a joint, after the first one he whiteyed.

He claims he outran a police bike on the M20 on his Bandit while on the way to work, this might be plausable if his place of work wasn't 10 miles from the town we live in.

He also has a habit of getting really angry with people then asking me to back him up if he gets into a fight, claims the fights happening and then nothing happens.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 12:48, Reply)
'Two Sheds' two
I'd forgotten this one.

The glory of 'Two Sheds' was that whatever you mentioned to him, he'd had it happen to him even more, or had a mate who had. Lost a leg? He knew a guy who'd lost both. To a tiger. In a freak zoo accident. And so on.

The talk got on to cars one night in the pub. I mentioned a myth (no idea of the truth of it) that the old rear-engined Hillman Imps could 'wheelie' under certain circumstances.
"My mate had a car that could 'wheelie'," says 'Two Sheds'.
"Oh, yeah?" we say. "I suppose they can in some circumstances."

This was the thing about 'Two Sheds'. None of us ever wanted to say "Mate, that's horseshit" because we all figured this was what he did to 'fit in', and as long as we knew it was sh!t there was no harm. So we just nodded along.

"He had to have a stabiliser system fitted on the back to stop it."
"Some drag racers have that sort of thing. Was that what he had?"
"No, it was his normal car. He had a wheel on a scaffold pole bolted off the back of the car. It had to have its own light on it to make it street legal."

Since that glorious night, 'a scaffold pole on it' has become a private indication of ludicrous exaggeration among us.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 12:41, 2 replies)
'Two Sheds'
For years, I've known this guy who has just a touch of the creepy stalker about him. His heart's in the right place, he's just woefully lacking in social skills.

I could go on for ages about him and his oddness and tall stories, but one of his best best BEST chunks of bullshitteriness came a few years ago.

'Two Sheds' mentioned one night that he had had a dalliance with an Italian girl, and had fallen in love. There is someone for everyone, so this wasn't all that remarkable. The tragedy, he explained, was that she was connected to a Mafia family. (At this point, anyone who knows him would have quietly activited their incredulity filter because none of us wanted to burst his fabricated bubbles.)

Why tragedy? Because he, 'Two Sheds', had sired a child with this young Mafia beauty, something he only found out about via a friend of a friend long after he'd been warned off the girl by her family on pain of painful death.

"So," he'd tell us, "I have to live with knowing I have a son I'll never see, and knowing that he'll never know anything about me."

Sad story, maybe bullshit, but could happen.

Years later, 'Two Sheds' marries after a whirlwind romance. Aww. They decide to start a family. They can't. They have tests. 'Two Sheds' has, it transpires, a genetic condition which means he has never ever ever been able to produce viable sperm.

Even if that Mafia child exists - it's not his.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 12:32, Reply)
A brace of liars
Two of my former colleagues in different jobs were addicted to bullshitting, albeit in different ways.

Ed was a black American guy I met in London. He was one of those 'life of the party' types, always ready with a joke or an anecdote to sugar the prospect of spending eight hours in a stuffy office. He was actually a pretty gifted liar, as he understood perfectly that every good lie must be at least vaguely plausible. His gospel truths included:

- he needed to go to hospital to have an injection that would stop him losing all his blackness and turning into a white man. Throw in a few words like 'melanin' and 'Michael Jackson' and you're away;
- he used to be fluent in Ancient Greek and Portuguese, but he forgot them. In their entirety.;
- he owned a collection of Magic The Gathering cards worth over $20,000. Again, faintly believable but he mentioned Magic a grand total of once in the three years I knew him so I don't think he was that big a fan.

Calling him out was a bit of a shame, as it meant exposing his pretty pathetic existence to the sunlight. He claimed to be a god of IT, yet within a month or two of my arrival people started coming to me with their IT problems rather than to him, despite the fact that I'd had no specialist training. He claimed to be bosom buddies with all the senior account executives in America, yet when they all came over for a big meeting in London he was basically told to take them all out for dinner and drinks and put it all on his personal credit card. "Oh yeah, Ed, don't worry: you can claim it back on expenses later." Good luck with that one, mate.

Dave was a different breed. I met him when I worked in direct sales, and I think he was a true pathological liar: he would lie without the faintest consideration of whether what he was saying was believable; and he would lie when there was no advantage or point whatsoever in doing so. We had an office sweepstake on who would win the World Cup; one morning, in the middle of a meeting, he announced "Oh, I've won the World Cup competition, by the way." Six weeks before the final. Back when he joined the company, before any of us worked there of course, and it was more like he jointly set it up with the big boss because they were best mates, he hurt his knee and couldn't go out in the field for weeks, so his boss/mate paid him to sit in the office and play on the PlayStation the whole time. This, in an office where people were fired for coming in half an hour late and for getting their hair cut on company time (10:00 to 22:00).

I miss Ed; he was a laugh. Dave was a cunt.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 12:29, Reply)
The first man ever to serve in the SAS and SBS
I have met the only man in history who has served with both the SAS and SBS. He was also involved with the Foreign Legion and the Navy Seals.

To meet someone with a CV that rivals the combined CV of every character ever played by Seagal, Van Damme, Schwarzenegger, Stallone et al was pretty impressive. However, when I thought about the situation, doubts began to set in.

This all happened on a street in Itaewon in Seoul in 1994. Hooker Hill is the last resort of the red-eyed alcoholics, failed writers, GIs and assorted English teachers that have spent their hard-earned won in the various bars and nightclubs of Itaewon (Seoul's West End - the shitty part). Hooker Hill is full of seedy hooker bars and various late nite establishments that will keep you topped up with booze until the other bars open again around 10am.

I was in a bar with a few college friends of mine who were teaching English over there and we were talking to a succession of reprobates about life, the universe and everything. Eventually I was introduced to this guy, who proceeded to tell me a fantastical story about his life in the military - all of which led up to his whispered admission that he was the first and only person to have ever served with the SAS and SBS.

I'm not sure what made me doubt him more. The fact that he looked like a cross between Pete Doherty and the dad from Shameless or the fact that; when he later cut his finger on a broken piece of glass, he started screeching and didn't have a clue what to do. He looked stunned when I told him that simply pouring water on the cut would clean it. Obviously that wasn't covered during basic training.

The bloke is still there apparently - if you're ever in Seoul, head to Itaewon, ask someone where hooker hill is (they will know) and keep an eye out on the left hand side of the road. Don't make eye contact though. He might roundhouse you into next week.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 12:04, Reply)
Finest homework excuse ever
Stephen claiming that he'd lost all his homework because his house had burned down the night before.

Quickly rebutted when his classmates pointed out his house was clearly visible from the school and didn't look burned down.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 12:03, 1 reply)
I'm starving now, the lying cow!!
Some bitch told me there was cake!!
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 11:40, 3 replies)
Agnostic Antichrist, of this parish,
claims he has a brother when he blatantly doesn't - and that this so-called 'brother' is best mates with Neil Buchanan of 'Art Attack' and 'Marseille' fame. The boy is 'Walter Mitty' gone mad, I tell you.

He produced a badly-photoshopped picture claiming this was 'evidence' of this fictional brother. It's actually quite sad. I think he was bullied at school and has retreated into a fantasy-land as a coping mechanism.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 11:36, 3 replies)

There are two guys called Ivor who drink down my local. One is known as "Ivor", the other is know as "Ivor the liar".

It’s impossible for this guy to get through a conversation without lying, often unsustainable porkies. Winners include telling everybody that his wife had cancer. Many of the people in the pub are friends with his wife and where as confused as she was to find out about his impromptu cancer diagnosis.

One of Ivor’s favourite subjects is his time in the army, particularly the time he spent on special ops in the jungles of Guatemala. Again some of the people in the pub, sitting at the same table as him, have known this guy since school and they’re pretty sure they’d have noticed if the overweight unfit Ivor had disappeared off to the armed forces.

Some people take great exception to Ivor’s bullshit, taking it as a personal insult, getting upset and generally taking pub banter a great deal too seriously…..I’m drifting….back to Ivor.

I think it’s great.

If someone was supposed to pick you up and drive to the footy and they don’t turn up, what do you want? "I was on my way to yours and this guy cut me up. We had a bit of a ruck and he pulled a knife. My army training cut in and before I knew what I was doing I’d killed him. I had to spend the day down the station clearing it up. It’s all been hushed up because of I’m still a reserve with the SAS."


"Sorry I forgot to set my alarm"
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 11:13, 3 replies)
Malawi Vice
Growing up in Norfolk I was considered 'posh', as I had been outside the county on several occasions, once or twice even having been on a PLANE to a FOREIGN COUNTRY!

However, I soon became small fry when I met a lad I shall call Ed, for that is his name. Ed's parents had left Norfolk for Malawi when he was just 9 years old due to his father getting a new job there.

Now I don't doubt Malawi is quite a change from rural Norfolk, and that anyone would have some pretty special tales from their time living in such a place. BUT, Ed's tales were taller than a dozen giraffes standing on each others shoulders - which is pretty appropriate given his daily spew of billy bollocks.

We'd regularly gather in the common room between class and sit around the CD player that would be churning out either happy hardcore, metallica, or take that depending on which 'gang' had got there first on that particular day. We weren't there for the musc though, oh no, we were awaiting the latest 'Malawi Vice' Epsiode.

I am kicking myself for not writing them all down, but some personal favourite episodes included: -

Hi-Speed Hippo: A young man and his local friend were bezzing across Lake Malawi in a speedboat, when all of a sudden they hit a rising hippo square in his back and were thrown in the air and from the speedboat. Scrambling to get back in and narrowly avoiding being attacked by 5 hippo's and a plethora of crocs, they then sped off again, using hippo backs as veritable trampolines, hardly ever touching the water again until they reached shore.

Bonfire Bong: A young man and his friend 'Squealer' (a midget no less...no, LESS!) sat around a bonfire, probably swapping bullshit a plenty, when a guy sold them a kg of weed for about 2p. They couldn't be bothered to spend time rolling spliffs, so put it all on the bonfire and just inhaled the fumes for about 3 days.

Dog Vs Lion: Lions would regularly get too close to Ed's house, so they did what any normal family would do to deter them. Buy a Lion-killing Labrador. Oh the amount of times that dog would kill/maim a lion 'just to protect Ed' was legendary. Who knew a dog could love a child so, so much?!?!?!

Needless to say these stories never failed to draw a crowd and at times it was like being in the middle of a Martin Luther King speech, with a group of about 30-40 students fervently awaiting the next word as if it may be his last...

Luckily, Ed never did run out of bullshit, and to this day I imagine he is out there, somewhere, still making 'Malawi Vice' episodes...
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 11:01, 2 replies)
Really? Coooool!!!
My economics teacher casually dropped the fact that he'd bought Keith Moon his last pint.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 11:01, Reply)
Wandering back from the pub one fine evening a few years back...
Talking bollocks with my mate Darren when he came out with the memorable:
"Did you know that the Queen's English is actually Welsh?" leading to me doing a comedy WTF? stop complete with jaw drop.
"Do you realise what you just said?" I responded.
"huh?" he said.
"You just said that English was Welsh."
"Uh huh..."
"Fuck off - gimme that spliff back."
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:56, Reply)
A guy I worked with had been suffering with persistent headaches so his GP recommended an appointment with the optician.
He told me later that the optician had told him
"No wonder you're getting headaches! You've got better than 20/20 vision"
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:51, 8 replies)
Brendan the potman
in the Cockpit in Blackfriars was full of shit.

His best one was "Do you know that the Irish Sea is nine miles deep!"
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:51, 2 replies)
Captain Experience
I'm an archaeologist and worked on an excavation of a Neolithic long barrow (Hazleton, fact fans) in 1982. It was a fantastic summer - great weather, good digging, lots of booze and a great crew. Apart from one twat, who we all called Captain Experience. He was 19 and there was nothing he hadn't done. We soon got fed up with his bullshit and decided to get one over on him.

We were camping in the field where the site was, and set up a scenario that he would walk in to the catering caravan and catch me and some others snorting a white powder. We knew he'd have to have a go. So in he comes, spies the line, asks for the roll and hoovers it all up. The whole line, the greedy bastard. He went a bit green and ran out, was violently ill, and left the dig the same day.

Silly sod didn't notice the blue flecks. It was Vim. Still makes me chuckle.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:45, 1 reply)
Tim Vine
I swear most of the shit he spouts is made up.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:43, 3 replies)
Not me, but a story told to me
Now this is either a bullshit story or one of the best lies I have ever heard.

Little Jimmy has been annoying his older brother for sometime. He goes into older brother's room and breaks things. He tells tales on him to mum and dad. He does all those things that annoying younger siblings do.

Big brother has had enough, and decides to prank little Jimmy good and proper.

He gets all the photo albums and takes out all photos of little Jimmy from before the age of 2. He then, with aid of newly doctored albums, explains to little Jimmy that he was adopted. "See, little Jimmy. There is no evidence of your existence before you were 2. That's when my mummy and daddy adopted you."

Cue lots of tears and a real telling off for older brother.

Sorry for lack of effort, but don't believe the story is true. Really wish it was.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:31, 3 replies)
Occasionally people believe some of these as they are almost plausible
Four of the red and white Ford Torinos used in the filming of Starsky and Hutch are now owned by the Archbishop of Canterbury.

5-a-side Squash is to be introduced at the next Olympic Games

The Pope can speak fluent Klingon

Documents recently released by the government reveal that Queen Victoria’s youngest son, Leopold invented the “Stop me and buy one” ice-cream bicycle

Between 1936 and 1945, German food manufacturers Roschmann produced a breakfast cereal called “Fuehrer Flakes"

Hugh Grant did the voice of SuperTed.

Iceland has more professional Elvis Impersonators than it has dentists

Prince Charles can still run 100 metres in less than 13 seconds

Clint Eastwood did the "wah wah waaah" vocal part on The Good, The Bad and The Ugly theme

Artist M.C. Escher once tripped in his house and fell downstairs for an astonishing 45 minutes.

From 1943 to 1945, one could buy toilet paper with Adolf Hitler's face on it.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:28, 6 replies)
I now have a habit
of being a bullshitter, because in the pub one day, to my work mates, I told them of the fact its very difficult to heat ice in a microwave.
Because the ice isnt liquid - the microwaves dont have any effect on the ice cube.

It ended up being a massive argument, because everyone thought i had just made it up.

I watched this one day on TV (one of the science satallite channels I think) but to this day, cant remember where I saw it, nor any links on the internet.

Did i dream this?

Can anyone back me up?
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:20, 16 replies)
Water, fire, air and dirt
Fucking magnets, how do they work?
And I don't wanna talk to a scientist
Y'all motherfuckers lying, and getting me pissed.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:15, 1 reply)
I have
in the past few years, convinced my other half that Welsh Rarebit was invented by Rolf Harris during a tour of Wales, and that hill-dwelling sheep have legs longer on one side than the other to remain stable while grazing on hillsides.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:10, 1 reply)
I think the most obvious bullshit documentary I've ever watched
is that one that claimed to be about - get this! The history of a civil war ... in another galaxy!

I mean - come on! We haven't even reached Mars yet!
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 10:00, 2 replies)

This question is now closed.

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