Well
I wanted to invade a country but couldn't find any decent reason so I knocked up a great excuse involving Weapons of Mass Destruction and got my mate Tony to play along with it too. True loads of people were killed but it helped me stay in power for another term.

Love


George
(mon bison powered by magnets, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 16:10, Reply)

Happiness.
I've faked being happy for the last 7 or 8 years.

Still, that's no reason for you lot to stop enjoying yourselves.
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 16:10, Reply)

not orgasming
Following on from splitting with the ex Mrs Season Ticketless last year, I dreamt that my life as a singleton would be spent drinking, chatting up girls and shagging more times each week than I had managed in the previous 18 months.

What I didn't reckon on was the sheer lack of self confidence, self motivation and down right laziness that clung to me like a bogey to a toddlers nostril.

After nine months of feeling like crap, I decided to get my arse in gear and get laid. Yes, my way of thinking was that clinical.

Size, shape, colour and smell would matter little in my quest to satisfy ST Junior, so off I went in a bid to get my nuts wet.

Self bravado is a wonderful thing at times, and soon enough I found myself naked and alone with a willing (and sober) female,

Now, Mr Slim isn't a nickname I'll be earning anytime soon, but this particular girl look like she had eaten non stop for years. Big doesn't begin to describe her. However, the pre-settling-down motto of "every hole's a goal" was the mantra that kept repeating in my head.

Any pre performance worries went out of my mind as I stood to attention, ignoring the open curtains which would give all of the neighbours a view of erect ST and the ensuing sexual activity which would no doubt remind older neighbours of space ships docking on the moon.

We got underway, doggy style, which I'd said I prefered because it was my favourite, though in reality it was an excuse to a) not look at her and b) to have a good look around the room while I was ploughing away. You see, being the crafty type, I'd taken matters into my own hand a couple of hours earlier so that I could be confident of a decent performance that night.

What I didn't account for was my body reverting to it's teenage state. Within thirty seconds I slowed down the pace as I felt a familiar tremble down below. Shit. No! It's been thirty seconds. Surely I can't be about to shoot alre... Bugger. I stop, mid thrust, unsure of the correct ettiquette in this situation. Do I stop? Apologise? Ask for a break?

"are you ok?" she asked, looking over her shoulder. Shit. I'd stopped. Panic. I started thrusting again.

"erm, yeah, it feels so good." at least I wasn't lying. I sped up again, still (thankfully) at full mast, even with a full condom on. "You ok?" I asked.

Of course, she was fine, but in my panicced reply, I know realised that we were having sex again. Or rather: I was having sex again. To all intents and purposes, she was STILL having sex.

What to do now?

In truth, dear reader, I didn't know what the Hell to do. I'd like to write that I stopped, admitted coming quickly and restarted a few minutes later after we'd enjoyed a laugh about it.

Instead I carried on going. Harder and harder, faster and faster until finally, a good five minutes later, she whimpered in what I assumed was some form of ecstacy, and slumped forward, as I grunted in time with her whimpers to echo what I hoped sounded somewhere similar to a normal blokey orgasm, even doing my best to 'twitch' in the right places at the right times.

And THAT is the true story of how I faked NOT having an orgasm a few weeks ago.
( SeasonTicketless is too often the statue, and rarely the pigeon., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 16:08, 2 replies)

Being bilingual
I often pretend to be German when people try asking me for change/to do questionnaires etc. I often enjoy answering their initial questions but in a way that sounds like I'm explaining that I can't understand. One of these days I'm gonna be caught out but until then I'm keeping my change.
( Raindance Work is inversely proportional to post-count, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 16:07, 1 reply)

Ghost Hunt
Whilst on a ghost hunt at a supposedly haunted pub up north we were rambling around following the 'guide' when in a cellar area I accidentally kicked a stone. It flew through the air hitting a can left on the floor at the other end of the cellar.
Uproar ensued, everyone thought it was a ghost, until I explained it was my mistake by kicking a stone.
One woman however shouted up with 'It couldn't possibly have been you kicking a stone as I was watching your feet all the time', even though it was dark and we only had the mimimal of lighting in the room.

EVERYONE turned to me, what could I say "Shut up you old bat this is all bollocks", or fold terribly and give a glimmer of hope into all these idiots minds.
"Your right, I was facing the other way" I proclaimed.

Everyone backed against the walls and went quiet, I just left disgusted with myself.
(Opanoid Look sweats dripping off them, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 16:05, Reply)

Orgasms - Trade Secret.
Men can fake them too.

You tried all your best moves.. blew your wad fucking ages ago..but she still isn't there yet, and by sheer will power (or lack of):

a) managed to shoot your muck undetected
b) by some miracle kept a semi.

Thinking, "If you don't fucking come soon I'm gonna be as Limp as a dead ferret".. and then I'm gonna be busted.

Or there are times.. even us men.. where for whatever fucked up reason we just don't feel like it, but have kept a boner.. I don't know.. maybe its when you girls get a rythm going.. then stop.. then start.. then stop.. AAAARRRGGHH !!!
Eventually the cock says " Fuck this shit..I don't give a fuck how fit you are.. I'm not spitting for anybody". *sulks*

Yes our cocks can sulk.

So to make sure we ever get a chance to get our leg over again, we fake it.
(TheRiddler Hmmmmm... I concur., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 16:01, 3 replies)

This is Just Like the Great Escape...
I was on a trip to the theatre. A group of us had gone to see ‘The Tempest’ at a Theatre in Ipswich. Being a) young, b) drama students and therefore c) twats, we embarked on some of the most complicated fakery of my life to date.

We were stood in the queue for drinks when, for some reason, I decided that for the course of the evening I would be German. Now, I have never been to Germany, I don’t speak German, and the accent that I adopted lay somewhere between the Germans in ‘’Allo ‘Allo’ and Papua New Guinea. The accent was, in my mind at least, not convincing.

We took our seats in the auditorium, and a very well dressed elderly couple sat down next to me. She smiled at me as they sat down, and said:

“We were stood behind you in the queue... Where in Germany are you from?”

Aha, a little opportunity to extend our game, eh? Game on!

“Hello zer! Yez, I am from Germany, from Stuttgart.”

“Oh, my husband and I love your contry”

“Yez, it iz ver’ gut. Do you, er, enjoy your stay zere?”

“Well, my husband had a heart attack...”

“No? Vell, ve haff ver gut Doctors in Germany, ja? He is well now?”

“Fine and dandy!”

“Gut.”

And so the performance started. Being, let’s not forget, English students, I proceeded to make notes in the back of my text. Before long, the Interval came around and the lights came up again. Sure enough, the old lady leans over to me again and casts a beady eye over my notes.

“Why are you making your notes in English?”

“What? Er... Vell... It iz for zer practicing of ze English. It helps us to learn!”

“Well, it’s very good.”

“Oh, tak. Zank you!”

And so the second half began. After another hour or so, we were leaving the theatre, and I was looking forward to being English again. Just as I was leaving, the old lady called to me:

“Good luck!”

Without hesitating, I responded:

“Thank you!” In my most British voice.

She laughed. I’d been rumbled by the oldest trick in the book, the cunning old bird.
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 16:00, 5 replies)

See CV for details :)
Or any CV I think!
(waxdart hello., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:56, Reply)

The Itchy Jumper
.
Some years back, my Mum, who normally excels at picking presents for the family, let herself down a bit.

For my birthday, she bought me a jumper. An Angora jumper. Lovely cream colour, perfect fit. But Angora. She was so proud of the bloody thing, I didn't have the heart to remind her I'm allergic to Angora wool.

She was rattling on about it being perfect for so many occasions ... I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell her.

I actually wore the thing to my cousin's 21st, having loaded up on anthistamines first. I had a long-sleeved t-shirt under it, and was sweating like a paedo in a playpark. And itchy, very very itchy. It has never left the drawer since, and thankfully she seems to have forgotten all about it.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:55, 1 reply)

Faked it with my Gran
no not like that you dirty minded people....Christmas day and my Gran has given me a selection of presents (woo yay!). I open the first and its a pack of D-cell batteries, wtf! thinks I, but I'm full of smiles for my Gran and say "Ooh thank you, just what I need"

Gran grins knowingly seeing right through my act and says "but you don't know what they're for yet!"

"erm..ah..yeh, but I really need some, thank you!" failing miserably to salvage my crappy fake act. Felt terrible for thinking I could pull the wool over her eyes, I'll stick with wtf! next time, she'll appreciate it more with her sense of humour!

Turned out they were for a little light up xmas tree.

Length...about 8 inches tall
( MonkeyOfCode is your favourite waste of time, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:54, 1 reply)

I faked that i met my american girlfriend at university
we actually met online in 1999. Almost 8 years later we are married with kids and our families still don't know the truth, the lie is to big now to blow.

I don't even know why we did it. My parents wouldn't really care!

We have managed to keep it going for a while as my wifes parents aren't the travelling kind, so we have managed to keep them apart and keep our stories straight, but Mother in Law has decided shes visiting in March. Squeaky Bum time!
(trickyric, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:53, 6 replies)

Ooh
I am a psychic, I predict that the tales of the unexplained QOTW will close at 4pm today!




crap

Edit: Ah well I'll fake it and be a member of the Most Haunted team in no time
(mon bison powered by magnets, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:51, Reply)

( Zak McFlimby Twibbling @McFlimby, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:47, 1 reply)

Also...
...I am an improvisor.

I've performed as stalkers, apes, mechanics, aliens, twins, robots and monkeys (and ninjas, natch), soldiers, schoolboys, transvestites and translators, musicians, acrobats, boxers, cheese shop owners, dads, mums, sons, daughters, Djs, chefs, siamiese twins, jon voight, tourists, 20's gangsters, French, German, Italian, drunk, stoned, comatose, dead, newborn, talking dogs, cats, mice, spiders and rats, cowboys, indians and prime ministers.

As Spacemen, monks, Nuns, sailors, rowers, old men, old women, owners of book, toy, comic, magic, mercury and milk shops. Cavemen, vampires, Van Helsing and Yoda, Batman dressed as a flamingo, punters and prostitutes and pimps, OCD suffers, suicidal life coaches, cheerful traffic wardens and drunken bus drivers.

As werewolves and students and delivery boys and tarzan. Ghost hunters and the haunted, postmen and policemen and firemen and lifeguards. The famous five and the secret seven.

Two fat ladies in 1988, the safe 16 lovers who lied, pearlies queen and mother makes five. Arthers and authors and plastered outcasts, locked up daughters and rock and roll stars*.

I think it's safe to say I fake it a lot.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:46, Reply)

I just have one thing to say to you all.
Push up bras.
( girlinthehole, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:34, 7 replies)

My friends and family...
...have thought I have given up smoking for 7 months and 11 days now.

I haven't.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:34, 5 replies)

Qualifications
am director of top 100 company with 15 years experience. CV says 9 GCSE's & 3 A levels. Truth - 1 GCSE grade D & no A levels. Oops!
(Genuinely__Battered, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:32, 2 replies)

It's easy for you lot...

You're all real humans.

I have to fake everything every day.

wubble
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:31, 8 replies)

Nineteen years, four months, 12 days and counting...
"Yeah, yeah, I know all about radio. No problem."

"Then we are able to offer you a job for this large, national broadcaster operating our incredibly expensive radio gear."

"YOINKS! Do you have an instruction manual? No reason for asking, like..."

"Why yes, we have. You're keen aren't you?"

I might as well own up now. I'm still here, and I'm still clueless.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:29, Reply)

*Expects lots of...
"Ooohh, oh, oh, oooooh, oooooooh, oh yeah, ohhhhh"s to get the male QOTWers hot and bothered this week*
( TY&GN, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:28, 5 replies)

I do believe
that everybody has had the compulsory pair of socks at christmas/birthday by the cat deranged auntie who everybody thinks is a little "odd"
WOW GREEN STRIPES :O THANKYOUPLEASE!
Do i speak the truth?
(Freddles, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:25, Reply)

Do timesheets count?
I've been known to charge time to jobs that I've spent in here goofing around...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:25, 4 replies)

Haw Lee Days
my job consists of me checking the prices of holidays. i then write the price change and the date i checked it.....

However, due to the fickle nature of holiday prices and their propensity to change at the drop of a hat, i merely think up a price difference, and mark it off. I mean, who can prove i didn't? It was that price when I checked it last. You seven fingered inbred CUNTS
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:25, Reply)

I fake
being able to do my job every day, for the last 10 years.

I blame the management for never getting me trained!
(Herr Doktor Lemminge Is bored, so cheer me up!, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:24, Reply)

well...
not one to go into any great depth, but there is quite a section on my CV that is simply creative writing...

Unfortunatly for those that read my wafflings on here, they'll realise that creative writing is certainly not my forté - so I am shocked that I have *touches wood* not been found out...

*no
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:21, Reply)

LOL 5 GET

( moohalaa, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:21, Reply)

I faked being first,
was found out though!
(Vikingheadache, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:19, Reply)

spooky
Was 3rd last week
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:19, Reply)

1
?

edit: I work in IT, I have done for many years.

I know exactly fuck all about computers, I struggle to do even the simplest tasks, Excel is a lost world to me, I am the destroyer of technology, I am the luddite from where upon these dark satanic firmware upgrades will be smashed from the chilled server rooms of hell, I am the death of IT, Mwaaahahahahaha.

I am trusted to support a whole suite of European ecommerce software and haven't got the fogiiest, and everyone thinks im great at it.

If that ain't faking it I never know what is!
(Halfy By light alone, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:19, 6 replies)

1st
In your face KAOL!!!!!


Anyway when I was about 13 I told everyone at school that I'd tried heroin, so that they would think I was cool.

As opposed to the fat geeky kid with no friends.

It didn't work.
( Madam Marlboro wonders if you've found her yet, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:19, 10 replies)