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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, ... 1

This question is now closed.

I think my greatest, shall we say, 'bon mot'
was convincing a number of otherwise reasonable and intelligent people (some of whom - get this - had actually been to university) that the first time I ever masturbated was in the reading room of Huddersfield Public Library*, and also that this was the last time I ever masturbated as well**.

But generally I am but an honest and humble soul, thusly I do not lie, nor do I proffer the shit of the bull. I make up bollocks all the time, mind, so by own estimations I am the greatest larcenist and arsonist that Maidenhead has ever known (and frankly, the town needs it***)

* Looks like this is the QOTW I've been waiting for.
** This bit might not be.
*** See *.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 19:57, 1 reply)
About as geeky as it gets BUT I SMELT A RAT
Renewing one of our H&S tickets, one of the other lads on the course was running his mouth off a bit, but still nice enough.

In any event it gets round to discussing what we all do, and I mention I specialise in transmission (the technical term for shunting data and voice from A to B in a mobile network).

Before I can get another word in, out it comes "Yeah mate fucking hell I was on this one site yeah and Ofcom calls me up yeah giving it large saying yeah you're transmitting well over your power on that link guv, WELL over your power so yeah what I do is flip the protection switch while he's on the blower and the jobs a good un, proper cunt 'e was"

Two things: (EDIT : Three. Daft cunt.)

- Ofcom aren't going to call you up. Ever.
- Protection is automatic and done in milliseconds. That's why these links cost a fucking fortune.
- The amount of cancer we're giving you (sorry, "Transmission Power") has nothing to do with protection.

In his defence we saw him again this year and he appeared to have shaken his case of the BS.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 19:39, 4 replies)
sickness and diorrhoea
It was a very bad week. I had worked no less than 55hours over four days and I just couldn't face any more. I pulled a sick day on the Friday as I was just too tired to comprehend any more work. I stated the time-honoured reason of it being due to sickness and diorrhoea. The truth was; if I had gone to any GP they would have signed me off for a fortnight with work-related-stress but I only needed a bit of sleep.
This would have been of no consequence but... About a week later my then boss got pulled over for drink-driving and was caught because he was spotted vomiting into a ditch at the side of the road. He was well over the limit. In his defence he stated that he was vomiting because "there was a bug doing the rounds at work", citing my example as his evidence. It didn't work and he was banned from driving anyway. I went back to doing silly long weeks (for a while anyway).
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 19:38, Reply)
Wonky man
Years back I was an IT guy for an insurance company call centre. We got all sorts of weirdos through the door, including the following...
This guy had one leg and one stump at the knee and had a fake in it's place. He also had one arm (born that way). He was always lying about all sorts of things, but this day he was in the dining area telling everyone how he was an MMA fighter outside of work. He was telling stories about how he kicked someone clean out only the night before. "SHOW US A KICK" shouted one of the 80+ people in the canteen. He agreed, kicking his leg which promptly flew off down the kitchen and he fell flat on his face. The place went silent until he couldn't get up (due to lack of arm/leg) and said "erm... could someone help me please"
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 19:18, 4 replies)
I have a few friends who exaggerate a lot, and occasionally just make shit up, but what really gets on my tits is people who bullshit dogmatically.

In 1996, When I was 18, I moved with my two brothers into a house in York. We decided the house needed a name, and I, having always found the rubbish names people give to guesthouses funny (dun - in, shangri la etc), suggested "Seaview". So my little brother painted a jaunty sign in blue and white, with crabs and seagulls etc. and there we are.

The name causes quite a lot of interest at parties and whatnot, it was even the subject of a "humorous" piece in the Yorkshire Evening Press a few years ago. My sister-in-law, who still lives there, told me recently that she'd been talking to somebody who's asked about it, and having had the above recounted by my sis-in-law, had CORRECTED her, telling her that it had been named thus for as long as she could remember and definitely a long time before they moved to the city.

(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 18:43, Reply)
It's at times like these I miss spankyhanky*
*Actually not a lie
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 18:30, 5 replies)
My workmate Ian.
I'd forgotten about this:
In what seems like a past life, I worked in a spare-parts warehouse for a large electrical retailer*. One day a temp by the name of Ian joined us. As one of the "Inventory Team", tasked with ensurimg things were where the computer system said they were and checking the Pickers and Packers were picking and packing the correct parts, I was asked to show him the ropes and get him started picking.
Now, I should mention that I was privately educated until I was 15 and I have A-Levels in a couple of sciences -- this was fairly rare in warehouse work but Ian was an educated guy too and also spoke a little posh, as I did. So, I introduce him to the lads I hung out with and we all got on well -- plenty of 4 pint pool-playing lunchtime and other fun stuff.
Anyhow, Ian's other half was namd Alex and, apparently, she worked at the hospital and had ginger hair -- a fact that was backed up when her brother gave a few of us a lift into town.
Time went on and, one day, Ian announced that Alex was pegnant. There followed the usual months of him getting excited over nursery decoration and worrying about the upcoming sleepless nights.
So, time came for Alex to give birth and Ian was there with her, taking his paternity leave to see the first weeks of his son's life.
On the second week of this my boss David** sidled up to us and asked "Have any of you guys met Alex?" to which we replied in the negative. "I think you might have." was his reply.
I turned out that Ian was gay, and his partner was called Alex and was ginger and it was the guy who gave us a lift to town.
I can kind of understand someone not coming out in that kind of job -- but the fact he was lying to friends (we talked a great deal) and trying to defraud the company was a blow to us all.

*some of the best days of my life, apart from the wages
**only name I disguised to protect the innocent
(sorry, spelling and formatting are broken because I'm using my phone for this)
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 18:25, Reply)
i'm sure we all know of a bitch that's pulled this stunt
K was desperate. she was seriously besotted with M, but he wasn't all that interested in her, possibly because she has a face like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle.
in the pub one night, K discovered to her delight that M found her much more attractive when he'd been drinking. every weekend after that, K would be there, buying M as many pints as he liked, just so he'd jump in the sack with her at the end of the night.
eventually, M got bored with this and found himself a girlfriend. K was beside herself with jealousy so, when her best friend announced she was pregnant, K "borrowed" her positive pregnancy test and took it to M, telling him that she was up the spout and he was the father.
there have been plenty of women that have tricked blokes into relationships and even marriages with this old chestnut, but this time, the bullshit backfired.
at the age of 14, M had had chickenpox, or possibly mumps. whatever the illness, it had rendered him sterile. he quickly and gleefully told K that, if she was indeed pregnant, it was nothing to do with him. K became even more of a local laughing stock than she had been before.
when she finally did have a child about 18 months later, she managed to snare another bloke with the "it's your baby" line. despite the fact that both of them have brown hair and brown eyes, whilst the baby has blonde hair and blue eyes(coincidentally, just like the new bloke's best mate, who he'd refused to believe she'd been boffing on the sly), new bloke has accepted the child as his.
they're about as happy as you'd expect.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 18:13, 6 replies)
About 15 years ago, Mornington Crescent tube station was being renovated.
As such, it was closed for ... fucking ages - a few years.

I'd started getting about with a guy who was a complete yokel in the Big Smoke - totally wide-eyed and innocent (not that any of us weren't, but he really was). One day, as we passed through Mornington Crescent on the way to an anarchists meeting or whatever shit we were into, he asked why it was always closed.

"Richard Branson's bought it" said our other mate, "He's going to build a Virgin Megastore on top of it, and advertise it worldwide as the first shop to have it's own tube station."

"Yeah - fucking capitalism ... " I spat, "Raping our heritage in pursuit of the Yankee dollar!"

Thus it was with delight that we watched the lad cheerfully tell this to prospective shags, including one a only couple of years ago, who, when she questioned how come it was open now as just a normal station, without missing a beat he said "Oh yeah well the deal fell through and he had to sell it back to the Underground - he made a massive loss ... "

I felt a lovely surge of paternal pride overhearing him say that.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 17:39, Reply)
Right, last lot because I've compiled 900 of them for a book and I don't want to give away the ending
Isaac Newton had to correct his maths four times before everything fell downwards

16% of UK asylum seekers are really just dodgy Frenchmen who have blacked up to get a free holiday

There is an octopus at Brighton Sea-Life Centre that can play "Snap!"

If you put a cup of Bovril in front of Stephen Hawking, then leave the room, he'll reach across and have a drink

Dandy regular, "Desperate Dan" was so called because until 1961, each storyline featured him trying to get off with anyone with tits

There is a nomadic people in central Russia that communicate with a bizarre variation on charades

Jennifer Lopez's first taste of fame came in 1988 when she won the village fair talent contest in Hampaste, Kentucky by farting the theme from "Airwolf".

In rural Arkansas, gloves have only 3 fingers

Captain Pugwash originally contained dubiously-named characters such as "Seaman Staines", "Master Bates", "Roger the Cabin Boy" and of course Pugwash's parrot "Wanky Fuckstick"

The Inuit people of Northwest Canada, who live in a confined space within an igloo for 8 months of the year, have 27 words for "Who farted?".
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 17:14, 9 replies)
Minted and marvelous
A girl I knew at university, Y, got together with some guy she met in the union one night, which blossomed into a full on relationship. E was very posh and had a good back story. Grew up in a big Chelsea town-house but sent to finish school in the States due to a blossoming coke habit. They were a fairly volatile (knives brought out during fights, doors kicked off their hinges) couple, but generally fairly amusing

2 years later we’ve finished uni and a group of us all move into a big house in North London and Ed invites us to spend a couple of weeks in the summer at the family’s house in Tampa. It all falls through after a couple of people had bought flights, so noone’s very amused. After another year together, Y is getting annoyed that she still hasn’t met his family, a big row ensues and they split up. Then the full story comes out. E met Y on a night out with his mates where their aim was to make up a bullshit identity for themselves and have a one night stand. He kept it up for three years. THREE SODDING YEARS. He’s from a fairly normal 3 bed semi in Bedford and went to the local comp. No house in Chelsea, no schooling in Florida and no house there either. Should have been fairly obvious as he drove a clapped out 10 year old Nissan Micra which generally carried all of his worldly possessions.

Incidentally, Y ended up trying to convince people that she was going blind. Which also turned out to be bollocks so they really were made for each other.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 16:53, 1 reply)
Twenty five years ago I worked with a little fat fella called Pete.
As a youth, he told me, he used to swim to school up the Thames.

Once, he went to see his beloved Chelsea play and every one of their goalies was injured. Pete leaned into the dugout, told them he played in goal for a pub team and he was pretty good and he got the gig!

He was digging in his garden and he hit something hard. He dug around it, digging ever deeper and wider - you'll never guess what? A Mini Cooper, buried in his garden! He got the door open and the keys were in it - started first time.

His daughter trapped her finger in the chain of a swing, blood everywhere, it was practically hanging off. Pete hastily bound it with electrical tape and rushed her to A&E. After a few minutes a doctor rushed into the waiting room demanding to know who had bound the girl's finger? Fearing he'd made a terrible mistake Pete confessed it was him.
"Well done, said the doc, "that's the best emergency binding I've ever seen. In fact, we're just going to leave it on.".

I loved working with Pete.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 16:41, 7 replies)
The 999 bullshitter
I have been to a few of these as patients. The number I have been to who, when you ask them what they used to do or if you notice they have military stuff around, a large number will say they used to be in the SAS. Clearly this is some kind of low grade nutcase fantasy as I would say I have met dozens of them in my career. Always amusing working with my regular crewmate who IS ex an ex SAS RSM (have seen his discharge book...very interesting) who has a habit of gently taking the piss!

Anyway, I digress. The biggest bullshitter I came across is not actually a patient, but rather an (ex) work colleague who is one of the biggest bullshitters known to man. You know the type of wankcheese: everything you did, he did bigger and better. Examples include:

- He was brought over from Ireland specifically by the UK ambulance service so they could learn from his "advanced trauma skillz". They were going to fast-track him on a paramedic course but they were "just waiting for the paperwork to be completed" - it never did so this became "oh there was a cock up with my qualifications as they were not recognised by the UK"

- He was first on scene at Tavistock Square on 7th July 2007 (he stopped this one after I called him on it, having actually been there on 7th July and never seeing him before meeting him nearly 3 years later in a completely different ambulance service)

- Despite being an EMT, he was offered a place on HEMS (only open to paramedics) and despite this, he turned it down "because I'm TOO well qualified!"

There was no particular harm in him, BUT he was one of those people that if you worked with him, by the end of 12 hours in an ambulance you had the overwhelming urge to start fisting him with a rusty fire axe and then use the resulting length of shredded colon to gag him and sew his lips closed with a length of mouldy rope.

I was not the only one sick of him, so we hatched a plan.

As we were also a training station, we had a lot of moulage stuff. For those not down wid de knowledge, moulage is the stuff they use to create fake wounds for films and so on, or as in was our case, for training purposes. Our station is quite a tall building (industrial unit with offices above it) so a good 30 foot from roof to floor. Now, quite regularly the SKY dish on the roof would get dislodged by a gust of wind, and one of us would have to go up the rear fire escape, climb on the roof and bash it until the picture came back. There was a small risk you could fall off, but nothing major.

So one day, we decided that one of us (i.e. me, as I was the only paramedic on duty) would get dressed up in fake wounds and lie on the ground. If I recall correctly, I had a major head injury (with brain matter showing - porridge does the job well if you ever fancy it), an open fracture to the leg (with realistic fake bone poking through an old pair of work trousers) and multiple bruises and other wounds. When tossbag's car turned into the carpark, I was given the go. Due to the layout of the building, the front entrance could not be seen from the carpark, so I put myself in the position. One of my female colleagues ran screaming to the bloke's car

"Quick, quick...hurry UP. Carrot's fallen from the roof and is in a really bad way. He was fixing the sky dish and...and...I don't think he's breathing."

Allegedly the guy went a bit green, but dashed from his car to where I was lying. He saw my injuries, and fainted.

He also pissed himself.

When he came round, he called us all a bunch of cunts, and stopped his bullshit from that day forward.

Halcyon times...
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 16:40, 5 replies)
My stepmother won't bullshit you - SHE FUCKING WON'T!
A few days after telling a 12-ish YO me that my dad had never loved my mum "because he and I have been together forever, actually", she was bollocking on about how a friend of hers (in itself difficult to comprehend) was a builder, and he had 10 sugars in his tea! 10!

"Rubbish" I said casually, "You couldn't dissolve that much sugar in a cup of tea."

"YES YOU CAN!" she screamed immediately in response, "YES YOU CAN! LOOK! WATCH! JUST WATCH! WATCH!" as she proceeded to boil the kettle, make a cup of tea, and dissolve 10 teaspoons of sugar into it, all the while screaming "WATCH!" every 30 seconds or so.

Doing so seems to leave quite a sludge behind, but by the way she was shaking and so red in the face, and the fact that she was more than happy to slap my dad about a bit if necessary made me think it probably wasn't worth mentioning.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 16:29, 6 replies)
This guy worked in a club up North
and reckoned, among other things:

- that he had played swingball in Pwllheli with Robert DeNiro
- that Gerry Adams wasn't really Irish and had to use an actor to do his voice on telly until he'd learned how to do it properly himself
- that he had a contact in China that allowed him to get mules easily
- that he'd slept with Bonnie Langford
- that he'd played on Centre Court at Wimbledon, despite being unseeded
- that Jackie Chan had phoned him up to ask about some paint

It's true! I saw it in a documentary, like.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 16:25, 6 replies)
can't believe i forgot about this wackjob.

ian, when i met him, was a 24-year-old alcoholic. he'd spend a lot of time in the local pub or the off-licence next door, where he was allowed to sit for a while as he was so entertaining. ian went everywhere in his slippers because, he claimed, he was allergic to shoes. he had a large alsatian dog, which he said he'd trained to run a bath for him and answer the phone. the dog could supposedly bark "hello", but only when answering the phone.
i definitely think there was a problem with either his hearing or his brain, because the way he confused or misheard song lyrics was epic. his favourite songs were See Sar Seminee(We Are Family) and Suranar Sura Baby, Yeah(Would I Lie To You). he was odd, but very funny.
he once accosted a customer in the off-licence, telling her that he had magical pants that changed colour. after convincing her to look at his pants, he proceeded to piss himself.
the weirdest and most serious thing he did was at the local nightclub(Secrets in bootle, if anyone remembers it). he got up on the dancefloor, in his slippers, and began to boogie.
then, he faked a heart attack. in the middle of the dancefloor.
nobody knows why and he said later that it wasn't faked, but he was out of hospital by the morning.
sadly, ian continued to drink to excess and smoke foul rollies for the next 2 years, until he actually did have a fatal heart attack at his home. it wasn't until the day of his funeral that most people believed he was really dead.
r.i.p ian, you weird fucker.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 16:20, 4 replies)
Porn in School
First B3ta post here. When I was in first year at my secondary school, like most lads I was getting into girls. Porn viewing had only just started but it wasn't proper porno as I still found actual vaginas to be quite weird to look at. Anyhow...I combined my new found interest in girls with my existing interest of WWF wrestling.

I found this amazing photo of Trish Stratus in her underwear and felt compelled to print it off. For whatever reason I decided that this photo was worthy of a wider audience and so took it into school. I took it out at P.E. and showed one other guy (a guy I knew like wrestling and would therefore appreciate it). I got ready for P.E. and left the changing room. Next thing I know, the teacher hauls me in asking why I have brought pornography into school. Some cunt called "Alza" had pulled the pic out of my bag and pretended to shag it. Caught.

I was dragged into the P.E. office and told to explain myself. I somehow bullshitted the teacher into believing that the photo had been put in my bag as a prank by my cousin. What he didn't know is that the cousin didn't exist and that he had been outsmarted by a nervous 12 year old.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 16:04, 3 replies)
Shoolboy mendacity...
...I bunked a day off school when I was 13 and when the teacher asked me for an absent note from my parents the next day I told him that my grandad had died and that my dad was too upset to write me a note.
Three days later my grandad did die.
I thought I had 'killed' him somehow by tempting fate and had the guilts for at least a week - a long time when you're 13. My bullshit continued at the funeral where everyone mistook my shocked guilt for pure grieving and being the little shit I was I milked it for all it was worth.
Sorry grandad.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 16:01, 6 replies)
When I joined the army the guy in the bedspace next to me introduced himself, utterly sincerely, with the line "hi my names Ashton, but everyone calls me maverick. I've just transferred to the army from the us navy top gun school of flight. I normally fly F14's but decided to try something different"

The something different was logistics truck driving incidentally. He eventually got thrown out for taking a shit in the bottom of his locker before an inspection (I still had to put up with the twat for 6 months before we got to that point mind you).
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 15:57, 3 replies)
Short one.
A while back I was chatting online to this rather cute young lady; cute, lovely and dim. SO I decided to have a bit of fun one evening. I asked her what time it was... She answered its 7.30pm or some such. I said OK well when you come up next weekend make sure you change your watch as you will miss your train. Expecting a puzzled reaction, she simply said OK.

So down in the Brighton area is a hairdresser that thinks there are time zones going north up the country... lord knows what will happen if she ever goes to Scotland.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 15:56, 6 replies)
Very publicly caught out
When my missus was at uni, she was one of a fairly tight-knit group of about 10 girl, all of whom were on the same course, went drinking together annd so on. Most of them shared occomodation with at least of the others.

One sunday morning, one of the group hadn't returned home from the previous night's revelries. The traditional "you still alive" text was sent to her and a reply was recieved saying "yeah, met a nice bloke last night, still in his hotel room. Will fill you in later"

So ater rolls around and she gives a few detail - she met an Irish lad called Steve in a bar, a few drinks were bought and she ended up in his hotel for the night and all was good. She said she wasn't sure she'd see him again, since he traveled a lot with work. All normal so far.

A few weeks later, she tells everyone over lunch that the Irish lad had been in touch. He was back in the UK and was offering to pay for her to get the train to whever her was, so they could spend the weekend together.

This went on for a few months - every couple of weeks, she'd mention Steve had been in touch and she was going to spend the weekend in Leeds / London / Glasgow / wherever. When she came back from these weeknds, she would divulge the details of what she'd been up to, bars and clubs they'd visited and where they'd eaten. It was clear that Steve had a few quid but she was really cagey about what he actually did for a living, only saying that he worked in the music business.

This went on for a good year or more, where she'd be disappearing off to see Steve for the weekend, having a great time and telling everyone about it. It just became accepted that this was her boyfriend, though no-one had actually met him.

After what was probaby the best part of 18 months of her seeing Steve, everyone was hassling her to get him to come to Manchester so they could all meet him. She made excuse after excuse, occasionally being a bit ysterious, saying stuff like "he can't because of his job"

Eventually she lets slip while pissed that the reason she can't have Steve meet everyone is because he's in a band and their manager didn't want them to be seen with anyone, since they had to appear "available" for their public image. Again, this didn't seem out of the realms of possibility.

Still more time passed and eventually it emerged that this Steve was a member of a boyband called "Boyzone". Now, with the benefit of hindsight, there is a massive flaw in her story but, at the time, considering how long it had been going on, everyone believed her.

This continued for a good while, she went off to see him most weekends and would come back to tell everyone about the great weekends she'd had.

It all fell down one day, when The Sun's front page ran the headline "Boyzone Stephen: I'm gay and I'm in love".

She wasn't seen for a little while after that.

Props to her for keeping a lie up for the best part of two years, though it was pretty bad luck that she picked the gay one of the five. She did eventually admit it was bullshit though...
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 15:48, 3 replies)
I was actually first on the balcony at the Iranian Embassy
But that was in 1977, so a policeman just told me to get down.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 15:45, Reply)
crowdsourcing bullshitter
When I was in high school in Texas there was a guy in my PE class who would always tell unbelievable stories about himself. I thought it was a little weird, but it wasn't nearly as weird as what we accidentally discovered: it turned out that we could make up the stories for him and he would agree that they had happened to him. For example, we could say "Hey Jim, do you remember that time that you stopped that bank robbery without any weapons?" and he would respond without hesitation, "yes, those bastards never knew what hit them" and pick up where we left off. He was definitely not trying to be funny, either. The poor guy clearly had some disturbing mental issues, but we were grateful for the entertainment he provided us during the otherwise-unbearable hour of physical education.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 14:58, Reply)
Mrs Duck is lovely
but a little gulible

I had her utterly convinsed that 50 cent (the rapping twonk) was called 50 cent because his real name was Arthur Dollar ('alf a doller.. geditt) I know it's a terrible joke but she bought it hook line & sinker
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 14:45, 6 replies)
Bullshit Merchant.
My first post ever on B3ta, having been an avid reader for about 10 years i thought it was about time I contributed!

Anyway.... the art of bullshit was actually a skill i learnt off my twin brother, that and lying. my first experience of him doing this being when we were both tots but talking (what ever age that was?) and my brother protesting to my mother that had not in fact eaten all he chocolate cake that just happened to be smeared in comedic fashion around his mouth. it was watching a master class of sorts the sincerity in his little face in spate of the obvious facts. He has from this early beginning gone from strength to strength in this department, the art of bullshit I mean not eating chocolate cake of which he now does not partake. He is also no fatty.

Anyway all the deceptions, lies, deceitfulness, and embellishment were learnt from my good ol bro. When I was at Uni and on my gap year in London going to fancy clubs I learnt from my very well versed brother all of the above in exemplary style flair . He in many ways made me the man that I am today, always ready with a story that is based on some tenuous facts but usually outrageously overstated.

For instance during my gap year in London I spent a great deal of time lying to women in clubs (as any normal hot blooded male does!) and at the tender age of 18 there was no job or experience I had not done or experienced! very impressive at a young age and all obviously bullshit, however when you get the end of a particularly complicated speech on how you have actually been to every county in the world and are in fact ‘astronaut millionaire mike Dexter’ you know something is wrong... especially when you start to think that things you say actually happened. I also used to use a fake name often just for shits and giggles... don’t know why
... this BS often lead to nookie and more often than not my lies going out of control and my whole fantasized world crashing down around me.. deservedly. I sill make shit up but less so now… perhaps its all out of the system older and wiser no doubt!

a bit long and boring but god did not create the world in a day and this is my fist attempt... and I’m not going to listen to any of you saying it should be my last!!!
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 14:43, Reply)
Wedding bliss.
Biggest bullshit lie ever.

the vicar asked me, at the alter:
"will you love her, honour her, cherish and obey her, as long as you both shall live..."?

me: "i will".

Priceless. It cracks me up every time. Dumb bitch.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 14:34, 4 replies)
So we've had Pathological Liars, Lies that got out of Control
and now Bullshit and Bullshitters

Hmmmmmm I always thought my mate was a bullshitter because he told me he fucked Melinda Messenger in a car park before she was famous and before the boob job. It turns out it was true.

My sister has gone out with a lot of bullshiters, my favourite was the one that when dumped by my sister went around telling his mates he got dumped for beating up my step dad. My step dad is 6'4" and built like the proverbial brick shithouse. First I heard was when my best friend came running up saying "Is Sean OK?" I replied that he was fine and asked why. "Phil is saying he gave him 2 black eyes and broke his nose!" That night we were in the pub and he and his friends happened to be drinking there. When time was called we left and Sean walked up and introduced himself to his friends as the guy that had been beaten up. Sean placed his hands in his pockets and invited him to demonstrate to his friends how he had given him two black eyes and broken his nose, he promised not to fight back in any way. The Ex boyfriend said "It's not like that" and started crying. His friends were in hysterics.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 14:16, 4 replies)

Topicality! Sweet!

The recent zodiac 'changes'. It's a lovely story, it's keeping newspapers in crap to print, it's keeping tattoo artists in business, it's making people feel important they can pronounce Ophiuchus... but it's a bigger load of crap than when Russell Grant took a bottle of laxatives. We use a zodiac system based on the sun and equinoxes, not the constellations. Nothing has changed unless you're Hindu or one of the tiny number of people who use the Sidereal instead of Tropical Zodiac.

I can only assume Idol finished or something and all the vaguely vacant proles have nothing better to do than panic about random bullshit.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 14:09, 9 replies)

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