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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)
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This question is now closed.

Sonia is my baby sister's lifelong BFF, for reasons no-one quite understands. She's four foot something, roughly spherical and has led a more exciting life than that of Heather Mills. Apparently. Her tales of interest include:

Will Young is her cousin. So is Shakira.
She has anorexia and never, ever eats. (Like I said: spherical.)
She's had an abortion (I first heard this one when she was 12 and, when pressed, couldn't actually explain what an abortion was).
She has IBS, knee cancer, ME and has, at various points in her life, been allergic to everything.
One of her friends was in this, like, violent relationship, with this violent dude? And at some point the dude was violencing her (the friend, not Sonia) in front of Sonia, and so Sonia (again I say: four foot something) LITERALLY LEAPT to her defence, got between the friend and the dude and expostulated: "you touch my friend again and I will KILL you!" (For the full effect, imagine this with excess pointing and that sassy head-wiggle thing some girls do, which is how it was demonstrated to me.) And the violent dude ran away, crying (violently), never to be seen again.
Last year she won a Pretty Girls contest hosted by the popular teen beat combo Bullet For My Valentine, where the prize is free VIP tickets and backstage access to the band. It is unclear at this stage whether the popular teen beat combo Bullet For My Valentine are aware of this.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 13:28, 7 replies)
I'm generally a very honest person

As a teenage pisshead one evening in the pub on being introduced to a new member of our group my brother and I decided that instead of in fact being brothers I was to be his scottish cousin. Cue me putting on a very dodgy scots accent part Rab C Nesbitt part Billy Connoly and entirely crap. All very good fun for an evening.

Except of course this guy then became a regular in our drinking group leading me to have to keep up the pretence for some 3 months until finally getting bored and returning to my normal accent one evening without warning.

The really odd bit is that other than looking a little confused at the time he has still not mentioned it some 8 years later.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 12:36, Reply)
David was someone I knew from school and his family lived round the corner from me. He was always slightly overweight* but had this thing about the Army. He was prone to ever so slightly making things up**, usually Army related.
I lost touch with him for a few years then bumped into him when I was booked to DJ at a wedding, which turned out to be his. He was in full army dress uniform but still quite large, definitely not army size. He gave me some bullshit about being in the army since he left school and he'd been a captain but he'd left the Army now. Everyone loved him and respected him blah blah. Anyway, the do finished and off he went into obscurity again till I bumped into him again in a butty shop.

'How you doing Dave?' sez me
'Ssshhhhh' sez he, looking round furtively 'Don't call me Dave'
'Why not?'
'IRA are after me, I was undercover for the Army and I'm on a protection scheme, all my family are in danger...'
'I thought you'd left the Army'
'They called me back in, they needed a specialist for an intelligence job....'
'Aye, reet then, er, Dave'

I got my sandwich as quick as poss and left the fucking idiot there.

A couple of months later, I was in a working mens club in Burnley and I saw his mum and dad. They'd known my parents for years and I knew them cos of Dave, so I wandered over and said 'Hiya, are you alright? How's your David?'
'David, your son'
'We don't know any David'
'Come on, you know me, you know my mum and dad as well, you used to live at (address withheld to protect the terminally numpty)'
'No, you've got the wrong people, we've never lived there in our lives'
'ooookay, I must be mistaken then...'

2 minutes later, they've necked their drinks and they're heading, almost running, for the door. It was definitely, 100%, them, they're a very distinctive couple.

I reckon their bullshitting son has told them that he's being hunted and that they have to trust no-one so they're shitting themselves wherever they go.

*Fucking huge
**Fucking lying through his teeth
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 12:11, 4 replies)
Sorry I haven't posted much this week.
I've been busy playing Pac-Man. The special version where dragons chase you. You can only get it in America.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 11:39, 3 replies)
He invented ABS!
I worked in a call centre for aaaaages to pay my way through uni/post uni temping wilderness years. My friend was doing the same. We tended to be the only members on our team on a Saturday apart from Mike who used to work now and again.

Mike is and was the biggest bullshitter I have ever had the misfortune to meet. He starts off small, casually dropping in comments about his millionaire dad, his mum's palacial home (in the valleys)complete with gigantic Aga. As time went on Mike got more and more outlandish in his claims. He would attempt to outdo anything anyone mentioned. Getting married? He's been to LOADS! He went to a millionaire's wedding, it was the best! He went to a 200 hundred pound wedding! It was the best! His wife was a wedding planner! Her dress was millions!Strangers ask her if they can buy it!

His wife was also a call centre worker, manager, accountant and stay at home mum. Who says you can't have it all?

Eventually my friend and I began to play a game which involved coming up with an unlikely premise, have a chat between us and see if Billy Bullshit would attempt to eavesdrop and try to top. My friend and I settled on the topic of professional gamblers (as my friend knew such a person). Mike gleefully interrupted with no less than five tales of friends who happened to be pros. FIVE! I lost the will to live after one!

My favourite tale is his friend's dad who invented ABS turning the family into millionaires overnight.A quick trip to wiki while he was still talking meant to could not only catch out his terrible fibs immediately but added so much joy to our shift while he jabbered on!

Mike, you do ridiculous overtime hours every week in a call centre! Ask one of your many millionaire friends to help you out!!
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 11:34, Reply)
Some popular Bullshitty phrases
The cheques in the post

Of course I'll respect you in the morning

Your not fat, your cuddly.

I wont cum in your mouth

Black is beautiful
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 10:56, 8 replies)
Oldie but a goodie
Of course I'll tell you when I'm about to cum.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 10:34, Reply)
My mum...
My mum and my Gran, the pair of bastards. A little backstory? It involves the fact my Gran is Welsh, and comes from a small town in South Wales; here abides her enormous extended family.

And her sister, Aunty Dot. Who, according to my Mum and Gran was married to Tom Jones, but had since divorced... So, as a nipper I was proud as punch that I was related (by marriage) to a genuine superstar; yet as the difficult teenage years came about this pride turned to a certain horror as Mr Jones' star waned and I kept this all to myself - a sordid, dirty, vile little secret about the be-chest-wigged, curly-mopped crooner.

Then, in my twenties he seemed to blossom again - duets and suchlike lent him a certain post-ironic cachet, and I could once more announce to the world how my dear old Aunty Dot had loved and lost him; only to be told he's been married to the same fucking woman all his fucking life.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 10:06, 2 replies)
My trainee
Every year we take a trainee programmer on from the local uni.
They're usually ok, a bit green, and usually void of any social skills.
This year, the bloke I have been given seems to have difficulty in understanding the need to be at work every day, and the need to turn up roughly around the time that everyone else does. He seems to think that he's above all that sort of malarky.
The excuses include:

"My car blew up" - I couldn't see any burn marks the next day when he arrived in it.
"I've got meningitis" - Meningitis that cleared up after 3 days of it's own accord (someone had to mention Honda).
"The snow was so bad I couldn't drive in it" - he lives less than a mile away. I live about 15 miles away. I got there fine. If I lived less than a mile away from work, I'd walk there every day.
"My mum and dad split up and my dad threw all my mum's horses out in the street. I had no choice but help my sister catch them all and ride them to Brighton where we have another stable" - Brighton is about 150 miles away. I doubt he even has a sister. About a week later, he went on holiday with his mum and dad to their place in France.
Loads of other bullshit about how he wrote an operating system for his iPhone as he didn't like the one Apple had provided him with...then the next minute struggling with pointers in 'unsafe' C# code. I think memory management might be of some importance when writing an operating system for small electronic devices, but hey...what do I know?

I'm wondering if university is really a good place to learn anything after having a few of these chaps come through over the years.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 9:17, Reply)
My mate Keltainenkurki insists that
Not the Nine O'clock News is still a hit on Finnish Saturday night prime time TV.

(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 8:54, Reply)
bindun yet?
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 8:42, 3 replies)
The seed
I actualy only found out about this from my friend A a few weeks ago, so I'm not an eye witness. A was going out with a rather unappealing girl at school, but she was a bit of a slut so he was happy.

A got a text from the girl saying he needed to come over right away, so off he cycled to her house. He found her crying, claiming she'd had a misscarage. When he asked about it, she said she had been having horrible pains and bleeding. "And that fell out of uz!" she cried, handing him a small sealed bag. Inside was a small green seed. A was a bright boy, way better in school then me, but for some reason, he fell for this.

With his new found parental responsibility, he decided to keep him seed baby, hidden safely in a draw. When anouther mate, D, went round to his house a few weeks later, A told him the stroy and showed him the seed, claiming you could see little arms. Despite this happening 7 or 8 years ago, I only found out during a get together at a friends house in November last year.

As a foot note, D was going out with a friend of the seed girl who also told stories of a pretend misscarage of her own. Bitches be crazy!
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 1:51, 2 replies)
There was a guy at school I would've hated if it weren't for the fact his lies were so fantastic that it was worth putting up with him being a dick just to hear some of the bullshit he came out with.

One of his finest moments was the day of the 7/7 bombs he claimed his brother had "had his ear blown off at Aldgate, then walked outside just as the bus blew up and some shrapnel cut his arm clean off". Never mind that the two places are at least two miles apart. And the next day his one-armed brother was driving him to a gig in Liverpool. First-class cunt.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 1:45, Reply)
Australian lottery
A boy at school claimed to have won $1,000,000 (aus) in the Australian lottery. We asked how he entered, he said it was online, we weren't convinced but didn't let on, afterall if he was telling the truth then it would be best to stay mates with him. When no money turned up, he explained it was due to the exchange rate and taxes, leaving him with £5,000. Apparently he didnt see that as he was to young to play and had been deemed to enter illegally.

I asked him about it years later at college and he threw a bean at me.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 1:34, Reply)
In year 7
A boy I went to school with (aged 11 or 12) started a sentence in our R.E class with: "When I was a child solider" infront of the whole class. The boy had lived in Sunderland all his life and whilst we may have some rough areas, we haven't broken into civil war just yet. I instantly called bullshit on him. "Miss, did you hear that miss? He just said he was a child solider!" no one else laughed, as I was the class geek and he was more popular then me.

That or he was really a child solider and I'm a horrible person!
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 1:27, 5 replies)
Incisive questioning
Not so long ago the company for which I work hired an outside company to do some work for us. It was all fine, except for one guy who would never, ever, under any circumstances admit he didn't know something. When faced with a situation where he felt he might show weakness by admitting ignorance, he would either bluster for Britain or (more usually) make up something or other that sounded credible to him. This works in some types of business but when you need a precise technical response to a query it's rather irritating to get vague and inaccurate nonsense instead.

It was a trying time and as it is no shock that I was bitching about this idiot in the pub one evening. Evidently, however, I was not doing a great job of explaining as one of my colleagues, an extremely sharp programmer from Romania, said she didn't follow what I meant by this "bullshitting".

"Okay," says I. "I'll give you an example through the medium of role play." I closed my eyes and, channelling Stanislavsky, assumed the part of the fantasist contractor. "Now, ask me a question to which I don't know the answer."

"Pineapplecharm," she said. "Are you gay?"
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 0:51, 4 replies)
Back in the day when we hung around in the town centre in a baggy-jeans, weed and cheap booze frenzy, a boy came along called Connie (short for his surname).

Connie was 15 (though claimed he was 18), had trained in the SAS, drove, and everything.

One time, a girl's kid sister went missing. Connie was dressed in full 'ambulance gear' at the time already, so when this happened, he made a big show of getting onto his radio and 'calling the ambulance crews' to keep an eye out for this girl.
He made a right tit of himself when somebody pointed out that they had bought the same radio from Maplin, and that there was nobody on the end of it. Sealed the deal when two ambulance guys DID show up (to pick up some drunken girl who'd passed out) and he told everybody he worked with him. When he went up to say hello, and give them the 'news', they told him that they didn't know him from Adam, and could he please get away from the scene, as it was 'trained personnel only'.

I think he still believes this.

/somebody else
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 0:50, 1 reply)
I heard once on the radio some woman claiming
that there's this guy working down the chipshop claims he's... ah, I see you're ahead of me there.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 0:43, Reply)
I once ate a years supply of Marmite in one go.
a teaspoonful
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 0:24, Reply)
My wife and I worked in the same place about 6 yrs ago....
and there was a guy in her department who claimed to have been.....
part of Russel Crowe's bodygaurd team,
a mountain rescue team member, complete with 'dead body recovery' stories,
the owner of a ferrari (totalled in a spectacular way),
and related to Paul Scholes of Man Utd. (third cousin 6 times removed or something)

He was 5ft 5inches in shoes, weighed about 8 stone and was, best of all, 22yrs old.
I don't doubt he believed himself, but we sure as hell didn't. Notably, his car at the time was a knackered Peugeot 405 and he couldn't name the people who he was related to that would lead to Mr Scholes. 117 people who worked at the same place we did all called him 'Mick the shit'. I feel kind of sorry for someone who has to come out with that level of crap because they must have a fairly pityful existence.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 0:19, Reply)
Jack Marchbank (or as we call him, Wankbank)
Said he broke the UK 100M record but it didn't count as he broke his legs, NOTE LegS, not leg, just as he crossed the finish line... Utter C**tflap
(, Sat 15 Jan 2011, 0:06, Reply)
I've kept in contact with the guys from the band.
We'll start up again when you're out.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 23:52, 2 replies)
A guy at work phoned in sick
suffering from period pains.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 23:31, 1 reply)
I've got 49 friends on Facebook.
F O R T Y N I N E.

beat that shit sniffers.

also i genuinely know a bloke with a helicopter hanger in his garden. it's got a big fucking squirrel helicopter in it. and i've been in it several times because i am much cooler than all of you put together and he had a porn film shot in the back but there's no stains at all.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 22:23, 4 replies)
One I told my wife
Back when we were dating, we went to Olive Garden(an italian food franchise). The young man serving our food asked if we wanted some grated parmesan, which I love. So I asked for quite a bit. Kim got some as well, but that's not the important part. She asked me why I got so much cheese, and instead of just saying I liked it, I said, "They get a bigger tip share if they grate out more cheese." I don't know where I came up with that, but she just shrugged and we went about our meal.

Several weeks later, she calls me, very angry, and starts cussing at me for my bullshit. Being a typical guy, I didn't know which bullshit story she found out, so I just listened. Turns out, her and her best friend went to eat there and she pulled the same story on her friend, who had a bullshit detector in pristine working condition.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 21:35, Reply)
I'm going to be the only one
With the balls to admit that I am the bullshitter.

Yes, it's true. This isn't a story about "this guy at work" or "my friend."

I make up lies and tell them to people. Not big ones, that's how you get caught. I don't do it because it makes me feel like an important person or because I desperately want people to think I'm better than I am. I usually do it when I am at a bar/party and don't know anybody because it is far more entertaining to me to make up a persona and try not to blow my cover than to stand around answering the same "what's your job," "Where are you from," "Who do you know here" questions with everyone I meet.

Some of my favorites:

I am the guy who changes the giant numbers on the scoreboard at Fenway Park.

At a bar, I pretended I was a bereaved Irishman, accent and all (I'm American) here to attend my dead uncle Seamus' funeral. I had 2 friends with me who kinda-sorta knew what was up, and I put them on the spot all night by asking them to sing my poor dead Seamus' favorite song, or to share their favorite memories of him. We kept the ruse going all night and nobody caught on.

Another time a friend and I pretended to be German tourists who spoke no English, and we communicated with each other all night in Teutonic-sounding gibberish. The peak of the night was when we ordered "eine schnapps, bitte" and some redneck walks over and takes our shots away from us saying: "AW hell naw, we don't drink that shit here, you gotta drink some Jack Daniels!" And proceeded to order us Jack Daniels all night long. Our ruse was discovered when some snooty German major had the gall to tell us that we weren't actually speaking German. We legged it right the hell out of there!

There are many more, and I'll post them if I remember them. I love doing ones that involve accents because it really forces you to be in character the whole time, but also increases the risk of being caught. If I do get caught, I'll come clean and say, "Yeah, I was fucking with you the entire time, I am never going to see you again and it is more fun that small talk." It's somewhat intimidating at first, but I would recommend trying it at least once, it really is great fun.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 21:16, 5 replies)
Ironically people often assume I'm bullshitting when I tell this story.
One year a few of the girls I worked with decided to text their boyfriends at one minute past midnight on April fools day telling them they were pregnant. The boyfriends didn't twig that it was April fools day until 12 hours later when they were told it was all a joke.

Except one girl was in a particularly bad relationship with her boyfriend- both of them cheated on the other repeatedly, tehy rowed constantly and broke up about once a week only to get back together within a few days.

She kept up the pretence she was pregnant for 6 months until in the end she lied and said she fell down the stairs and had a miscarriage.

Pretty nasty stuff all round, but people often think I'm bullshitting when I tell this story.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 20:49, 2 replies)
As a serial seducer of the elderly...
I've had to tell many a tall tale in my time, such as:

- At weekends I'm a swimming instructor
- I fought in Vietnam
- I'm a former Mr Universe
- And I taught Elvis how to play karate

But you'd want to be up early in the morning to catch me...very early in the morning!
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 20:46, 2 replies)
Bullshit Chris
When I was a spotty teenage rocker I would spend my Saturdays in town with all the other spotty teenage rockers. We would spend our time comparing how many chains we could hang from our ridiculously baggy jeans, sneering at people in Limp Bizkit hoodies and drinking cut-price vodka and cider from Eurowines, a shop that remained our firm favourite because it would seemingly serve anyone over the age of 5. This is where Bullshit Chris was usually to be found. Chris was sixteen but had already led a life fit for several autobiographies. Despite still being at school, Chris had been instrumental in designing and launching MSN messenger. "Really Chris? Mine keeps freezing," someone said to him. "Ah yes, I'll have to speak to Bill about that" was his reply.

Chris had an IQ well over 200. (Excerpt from an online conversation with him-"im at collidge.")

Chris had been on an SAS survival course in Russia where he had been given a special pack containing dehydrated water.

Chris once went to a weapons sale where there had been a shootout between the Mafia and the Triads. As everyone was dead he took what he wanted for himself to add to his private arsenal, which was already well stocked from his illegal purchases from the website "terroristworld.com." This arsenal included underwater grenades.

Chris could get tanks to his location within 5 minutes with just one phonecall. He was going to do this next time Robbie Williams decided to play a concert nearby, or simply take him out with his sniper rifle.

Chris had a brain tumor that would tragically cut his life short within 5 years. However, if he concentrated and went "HNNNGH" really hard he could transfer all of his brain power into the left, non-tumorous side which allowed him to retain his crazy high IQ.

He also got laid. All the time. With like, women and everything.

In retrospect it was extremely sad as he clearly knew no one believed a word he was said. It had simply reached the point where it was easier to not call him on his bullshit and laugh at his ludicrous stories as any attempt to pick holes in his stories would just result in a redoubled effort to prove he was telling the truth. Nearly a decade later I still wonder what became of him. He was an endless source of entertainment.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 20:38, Reply)
Bullshitting hypochondriacs is easy money.
I have a friend who believes in this: www.naet.com/
Almost makes homeopathy look sensible in comparison. Almost.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2011, 20:21, 2 replies)

This question is now closed.

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