You decide....
Either I'm a single overweight and bald man in my fifties living in the Midlands

or

I'm a twenty-something ex-stripper living with my Brazilian lover in Basingstoke and enjoying an open relationship with her and half a dozen men too.



Which is the fake?
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 11 Jul 2008, 0:20, 7 replies)

relationships
I dont just fake orgasms when the bloke is inefficient, ive been known to fake entire relationships! I once dated a student who lived a few hundred miles away. I decided I needed to leave home, so i went up to newcastle to live with him and his to arsehole housemates. He was a creep, but I figured, hey i'm living rent free, he is paying for everything, i dont need to work so I'm getting off easy! All i had to do was keep him sweet for a while. Turned out he decided he wanted to hit me, but for 6 months I faked the whole relationship, was having it off with his best mate, lived rent free, and only had to work for 6 weeks, Not bad for the occasional shag and obligatory 'i love you', ah well...alls well that ends well i guess.
(santas_lil_hohoho is packing her vibrator suitcase, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:59, 7 replies)

Fake money
My dad bought a new scanner and printer, I know lets scan some money see what it comes out like, don't get me wrong - not planning on actually using it in shops and the like - just a quality control kind thing, see how good this printer/scanner actually is, printed it out, looked pretty realistic (on one side - never could get it to line up the other) anyways dad decides to take the money to work, goes to buy some lunch in the work canteen, takes out a £10 note, looks at it and goes "oh this one is dirty" and screws it up and throws it in the bin, lots of faces go :o (much to his amusement)
A bit later on (in a different department) he lights his cigarette with another £10 again more shocked faces
(This is when technology was quite new by the way, and when you could still smoke in buildings!)
( SkUG >_O i got a couple of stitches in my eyeball... ow, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:56, 3 replies)

Fuck it
Met this bird.
Fucked her.
Fucked her up the arse.
She didn't come but made all the right noises.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:53, Reply)

I don't fake much..
I am relentlessly truthful and am not great at lying. So I don't do 'girl fine' (when someone says 'is that ok' and you say 'fine' but mean 'sooo not fine').

But I have been known to fake an interest in certain conversations, love (bad times) and the occasional orgasm (worse times, this isn't in your favour usually). That and at the moment I'm doing a really good job of faking my feelings for a lovely man; we have a lovely fake friendship where we pretend that we don't think each other is great, so as not to awake his commitment phobia. I feel I am doing a bad job of this, as evidenced by the amount of action our cars have seen in the last month. So yeah, I'm shit at faking anything.

And my boobs are real. Wonderbras are the business when it's not false advertising. :)
(Clarabelle is reverting to type on, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:35, 1 reply)

National Star.
I mate of mine used to work in a Bangkok advertising agency. One of the huge benefits of this was access to a rather large studio where fake business cards could be knocked up very easily.

Within a few weeks, my mate could claim to work for Vogue New York, (great for picking up girls) Rolling Stone (gig entry) and, the best one, Time Out London.

He worked out that by calling up any nightclub the day before he'd get free VIP entry - as the management wouldn't dare piss off a Time Out journalist.

Anyway, a huge nightclub was opening in Bangkok - massive. Royalty were there, celebs, models.

He turns up with his 'photographer' (a mate with a camera) and is instantly escorted to his own booth where bottles of Krug on ice are waiting. He polishes these off whilst watching his very own fire eater.

About three hours later, my very pissed mate is taken gently by the arm by the club's biggest bouncer. He thought he was about to get smashed to pieces in the back alley. He wasn't.

He was (unsteadily) escorted into a back room containing a guy with two microphones and headsets.

Guy: "And a new guest on the show tonight - all the way from London, Jonny from Time Out. Jonny - so what are Time Out doing over here then?"

My mate then has to give a twenty minute on-air live interview on Radio Thailand.

Class.
( waz4444 Escorts, bescorts - Come in if you're saucy., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:23, Reply)

Heh, it's not so much faking it, but still
When I was 4, I was fitted with a prosthetic ear. By the time I started secondary school, the prosthetics quality had developed so well that people don't even know about it! This is what my head looked like without it, except then it had a bar on it. I had really long, flowing hair, so whenever it did slip, you couldn't tell, I was so ninja-ish in my movements to replace it.

It was my second day in secondary school before the secret got out.
I was putting some crap into my locker up in the English block and for a reason beyond me, some kids in my class were running to lesson. One bumped into me quite softly but then that was enough to knock me off my feet. I bumped into my locker and my ear came clean off. By this time, the boys had turned round to apologise, and saw my ear land about an inch from one of their feet, pinna side up.

One went white, asked me if I was OK, and the other started crying. He had genuine concern on his face, so I did the only thing I knew how to do. I shouted, as loud as my little lungs would project my innocent voice, "OH MY GOD! WHERE'S MY EAR? IT HURTS! IT HURTS!" With a few allowed* swearwords for good measure. The other boy burst into tears.

It wasn't until the head of year made me apologise that I was found out. I think mainly for that kid's mental health!

*where swearing in kids is overlooked because they're in agony
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:19, 1 reply)

I fake being German all the time
Made even better accompanied by a German army shirt, Blonde hair and Blue eyes =D.

I get dirty looks from every foreign person in the streets....

*sulks*

Obviously, being German, I've got good length.
(Maccy Divided by 0 on, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:16, Reply)

I paid the price...
“Hello, sweetie” he smiled, as I opened the front door. For a moment, he stood there, regarding me with a gleam in his eye before leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek.

“Do come in, dinner is fifteen minutes away”, I cooly motioned with a sideways nod of the head.

It had been a full seven days since we saw each other last. Seven days of typing, filing, answering telephones and associated drudgery, seven days of returning home to an empty house, seven evenings of half-heartedly prepared meals eaten alone, seven nights of having a double bed all to myself (which also included six phonecalls professing affection and of course the inevitable outcome after seven days of being apart, but that of course is another story).

He obediently followed me into the house, making some half-arsed chatter about what happened during his week at work. To be honest, I found myself nodding vaguely and half concentrating on snippets here and there as I poured a glass of wine into a champagne flute and handed it over to him.

In the dimmed light of the kitchen, I took a long look at him as I passed him the flute. He stood there in front of me, with blue eyes, dark unruly hair and a gleam in his eye that hinted very much that he appreciated the effort I’d gone to with my choice of eveningwear. I tip-toed up to him, looked up at those blue eyes and without averting my gaze, I picked the scarcely sipped glass from his hand and placed it on the worktop next to him.

He reached forward, very gentle and placed a hand on the back of my neck as his lips touched mine. Up until now, I’d coolly planned this in my head in minute detail during our six breathy phonecalls the previous week. However, I felt those meticulous preparations begin to slip from me as I returned his kiss with the palm of my hand pressed into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer and closer…

His had was round my waist. I could feel the urge rising in my chest as the front of my body felt the warmth of him through the thin material of my dress. My hands were roaming all over his face and neck as we kissed. I felt a strange sensation along my left side accompanied by a subdued “zzzzzzzip” shortly before one of his large hands found its way inside the material. I responded to the touch of his hand upon my flesh with a gentle gasp in his ear, to let him know that I approved of what he was doing.

Oh, now the cocky bastard was smiling… I could feel his cheeks tense and mouth sharpen as we kissed. I responded by reaching up and nibbling the lobe of his ear. Oh yes, the moment was building exactly as I’d wanted and exactly as he’d described it on the telephone. I was gently relieved of my burgundy dress, which fell to the floor like a discarded veil. With a swift motion, he spun round, picked me up and sat me on the kitchen worktop as I grasped his shirt buttons and ripped them open (actually, I say “ripped”… in truth no-one likes a shredded shirt. I should have said “undone with due reverential haste. Doesn’t quite work though does it?). His right hand unclipped my black lacy bra which was gently deposited next to my dress. His mouth was all over my neck and breasts, I could feel my heartbeat surge as I looked down upon his head, stroking his hair.

I didn’t care that the Venetian blind was still open and that my now naked back was silhouetted against the kitchen window for the neighbours to see. It was all about the moment, his mouth and me and the things he was doing to me. I lifted my bottom off the worktop as my pants were removed, I could smell the food beginning to burn slightly, but frankly did not care a damn unless the house burned down.

I undid the button and zip of his trousers, pulled him closer and soon had my legs wrapped tightly round his waist, being in complete control, juggling between passive response to him encouraging him further and a flex of thigh muscles to slow him down.

Far better to enjoy this to its full potential than let uncontrolled ardour render it all too brief. His hands were all over my body as his hips rocked back and forth, as my legs allowed him just enough momentum to quicken the pace slightly, but not enough to let him get too carried away. I continued to nibble his earlobe and run the nail of my index finger from the top of his neck and all the way down his spine, I felt his muscular back shiver under my touch. Oh yes! Oh yes!

As sex, this was exactly as billed, no broken promises or complaints to advertising standards here. Finally satisfied, we were panting like dogs, clinging to each other’s moist skin and struggling to form coherent sentences to one another.

He leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

“I love you…”

At that moment I looked inside my heart and beyond the physical gratification I actually felt very little.

I’m ashamed to say that I faked something far, far more significant than a mere orgasm....
(GloriaHull you puerile slack-jawed drooling meatslapper, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:04, 9 replies)

I made someone be dead on paper and ruined his life.
In college, a friend and I gained access to the school's most secure section of their database. Before each semester they would take over a computer lab for a day, staff members would sit down at each computer and log in so that students could then form lines and register for classes.

Clever fellow that he was, my friend installed a keyboard sniffer on one of the lab computers that recorded every keystroke right before they kicked him out in order to start registration.

By that evening, we had a login and password to get us into the database that recorded and controlled every student's class schedule and status in the school.

Every student had a little 2 letter code next to their name signaling whether they were active, on leave, etc. One of the options was 'dd.' That made them 'deceased.'

I won't bore you all with the horrible crimes that our victim was guilty of that deserved the sort of revenge that this allowed us to dish out. But we made him 'deceased' on the school's computer, one semester before he was to graduate.

Among the effects of this was that he had no diploma on graduation day. But it gets worse. Much worse. It seems that he had student loans through the Dept. of Education and the college is supposed to report the student's status regularly, to make sure that he or she is actually enrolled. When the college told the Dept. of Education that the student was dead, THEY CALLED IN THE LOAN. His parents had to fork it all over, no matter that he was still in school and attempting to go on to graduate school.

And it got still worse. The Department of Education reported this information of his death to other government departments. His social security number was pulled and presumably reassigned to someone else. When his drivers license expired, he was unable to renew it. This went on and on for years with the poor bastard practically in tears in front of one government bureaucrat after another begging them to believe that he was not actually dead.

That is easily the biggest fake I have ever pulled. Although to be honest, we never had any idea that this would be anything other than a momentary inconvenience for him.
(Zupper, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:00, 6 replies)

I..
faked orgasm once, i just pissed inside her and fell asleep.
(My name was taken by me Is Sleeping With Your Sister/ Daughter/ Mother On, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 22:47, Reply)

I once sat next to a girl
On a ski lift, and petended to be Austian, so I could talk to her. In fact she spoke first, Your'e not English they go up the lifts one at a time!
No, I'm from further down the mountains.
Oooh your english is good
I'm learning it from the holiday people... and so it went on, but nothing came of it.
Shame, she had a lovely smile
(lordy lordy, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:57, Reply)

Fibs
Only a few pages into this weeks question and already it's obvious that a more focused question could be 'What haven't you faked?'

Bunch of fraudulent untrustworthy bastards!
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:45, Reply)

Anyone think it's funny....
that after a week of a question which has prompted many replies about Derek Acorah, we then get a question about "faking it?"
(LongJohnBaldry, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:39, Reply)

What are the chances.....?
Slightly drunk, I once tried to chat up a young laydee in a bar by nonchalantly letting her know I was a paediatrician. I even planned it somewhat strategically to let on a bit more at a time: I'm a doctor....I'm a paediatrician....I look after terminally ill children etc.

Turns out she was a young, naive but very enthusiastic....medical student. And it became more and more difficult very quickly to stay in 'character'.

Should have just said I was a dolphin trainer.
(Thomas_The_Spankengine, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:35, Reply)

sleeping with ladies
spent a few years pretending to be straight, going out, getting pissed, sleeping with ladies, eating kebabs etc.

now i go out, get pissed, sleep with blokes and eat kebabs.

the downside? blokes tend to want some of your kebab.
(imallamallama looking forward to llamageddon on, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:34, 7 replies)

during my underage drinking years
one of our friends always seemed to be pissed of one or two bacardi breezers (dont look at me like that we were 16!!), she just claimed she was a light weight but we werent convinced

one night at a party we filled an empty wine bottle with non alcoholic wine (because sadly such a thing exists) and let her drink the lot

an hour later she was rolling around on the floor giggling and staggering everywhere. we ended up letting her have her fun before telling her what she really drank the next day

she didnt see the funny side, we did
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:34, 2 replies)

I've been faking being a lesbian for 20 years.
I had a lesbian phase when I was younger at the same time my mum met my step-dad. He wasn't particularly bothered and never mentioned it but since then it's been cock all the way and I haven't had the heart to tell him. Just recently he's been making furtive comments about lady-loving and because of someone I've met it may have to come out that I'm not gay.

I have to come out to my step-dad at the age of 43 that I'm not gay. How fucking scary is that.
( girlinthehole, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:31, 5 replies)

Uri Geller
Many moons ago, Uri Geller was doing an experiment (sorry….. publicity stunt) in conjunction with The Sun newspaper. The experiment involved him flying around in a hot air balloon, and at precisely 3 o’clock he was going to beam ‘psychic energy’ over the whole county (!). There was a special hotline number printed in The Sun, and if anything ‘weird’ happened to you at that particular time, you were to phone this number.

At the time, I was working on the cable car ride at Woburn Safari Park, my first job after leaving school. On the day of Uri’s great experiment, at precisely 3 o’clock, I hit the ‘stop’ button for the cable cars, and me & my fellow cab-monkeys went for a brew.

Five minutes later, we restarted the ride and whenever any of the punters asked why we had stopped, we would just shrug, say “Uri Geller” and walk off.

One of my colleagues spent the next hour ringing The Sun’s hotline number and eventually got through. He explained that at 3 o’clock the cable car ride had mysteriously stopped, the exact time that Uri was pumping his psychic jizz around! He said that it was very unusual for the ride to stop (it wasn’t), he said we had been unable to find the fault (there wasn’t one, I’d deliberately stopped it) and that after a while it had mysteriously ‘just started up again’ (after I had pushed a button with the word ‘start’ on it!).

The following day The Sun ran a big spread, detailing all the miraculous things that people had reported happening at 3 o’clock the previous day, and we were the THIRD story!!! The first was a story of a young boy of about 6 or 7 who had thus far been unable to speak. At precisely 3 o’clock he turned to his mum and said “mummy” for the very first time! The second story was something about an old pocket watch which suddenly started working again after years of dormancy, and then there we were…..

“Staff at Woburn Safari Park were astounded when the cable car ride suddenly stopped at exactly 3pm, leaving 90 people stranded in mid air for over an hour” (it was probably more like 20 or 30 people, and was no where near an hour, but it was The Suns hacks who added those little embellishments).

I can’t remember the exact wording but it was along those lines. I’ve probably still got the clipping from the paper somewhere. Gullible twats.
(Lionel Tiger, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:29, 2 replies)

passive whore
I'm a man and I fake orgasms. Is that wrong? Thing is, no active fucker ever thinks to check or do the reach-around.
(badfox1 wonders who he's played by this episode on, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:25, 2 replies)

Nails
When I was in India I saw this dude lying on a bed of nails. But he wasn't the real deal. He was a fake fakir.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 21:12, Reply)

I've been debating faking something.
And I bet I could get away with it too.

Back when I was in engineering school and finishing my senior year, I was working for Zee Germanss in the semiconductor plant, working the night shift and trying to do classes in the day. This meant that I was always tired and generally not very organized.

So when it came time to fill in paperwork for graduation, I was a few days late in turning it in. The middle aged battle axe that I had to hand it to scolded me and informed me that I would have my diploma mailed to me instead of receiving it at the ceremony. I waved her fussing aside- as long as I get the damn thing, I really don't care about the details.

I go to graduation. No walking across the stage- they tell our section to stand up, they wave their arms, we sit down as graduates. Whooptie-fucking-doo.

A couple of weeks later I get a large flat envelope in the mail. About time, I think as I open it up. With a satisfied smile I read "The Resident Loon has completed the requirements and holds the degree of Bachelors of Social Work-"

Social Work? Social Work?!? I slaved through more than four years of engineering classes, only to get a degree in Social Work?

I steamed back down there and showed it to the simian troll, who scowled and informed me it would be an additional eight weeks before I got my proper diploma. I informed her that their rectal cranial inversion was not my problem and that I had better get the goddam thing faster than that.

Ultimately I got the proper diploma, of course, and it now hangs on my wall at home.

And right below it hangs my diploma for Social Work.

It's appropriate somehow- I mean, during my time at college I went through a rather bloody divorce and child custody case, and had to talk my kids down after the ex's friends saw fit to tell them what a horrible person I was and told them a load of lies. I spent more time counseling my kids than I did on coursework, to be honest. I earned that degree in blood.

The thing is, though, if you have a genuine diploma with your name on it, you have the degree. So even though I never attended a social work class in my life, I could go into practice.

You lot all know what I'm like- somewhat caustic and blunt, evil sense of humor, excellent at fucking with peoples' heads. What do you think- should I start counseling people?

EDIT: You know, I can just see it now...

*couple sitting on couch, Loon sitting opposite in a chair*

Woman: I just don't have the energy at night for sex. I come home from work and make dinner, and then I'm just too worn out- but he keeps demanding that we have sex at least once a week! He's being completely unreasonable!

Loon: I hear what you're saying. And yet I can't help but wonder- he works full-time as well. How energetic do you think he feels when he gets home? And yet he's trying to make the time and energy for you.

Woman: But-

Loon: And I can't imagine it's any great picnic for him to have sex with someone who's so low-energy that she does a convincing imitation of a sack of potatoes.

Man: He has a point, you know...

Loon: And yet you stay married to him? Why?

Woman: Now wait just a goddam minute-

Loon: Put it to you this way- do you have a problem with him going outside of the marriage for sex? Because that's the way it's headed, you know. You can have low libido if you wish, or you can have marital fidelity- but you can't have both. Which will it be? Put out, welcome the mistress or cut him loose?

*Woman makes fizzing noises before she asplodes*

I bet I could make a lot more happy people. Or at least a lot more sexing...

EDIT 2: I put this in replies, but I kinda like it...

*Sullen teenager sprawled on a couch, anxious mother sitting in chair, Loon sitting opposite*

Mother: He's refusing to go to school- he just wants to sit at home and play video games and watch those awful movies all night!

Loon: I see... Tell me, kid, have you ever gone into a McDonald's and seen middle aged people working behind the counter? Yes? Well, did you ever wonder how they ended up there? I mean, it's not like a kid dreams of making Big Macs when he grows up. That comes from not being willing to graduate from school, so you only have a very few choices left in life. Or maybe you could try for the glamorous life of a janitor.

Teen: You don't understand me-

Loon: Oh, I understand you just fine. I understand that you're a self-centered and spoiled brat who whines all day on Facebook- yes, I've seen your page there. Stop being a lazy-ass punk, wash the eyeliner off, give your sister back her jeans and get your ass to school.

Teen: But-

Loon: No buts about it. Think you parents are going to let you live in their basement forever? Why would they? They have a right to a decent life without you dragging them down. Start learning to take care of your own shit and stop blaming everyone else for your problems. And while you're at it, get a haircut- it looks like your mother fucked an orangutan.

*Mother and son both start to blue-screen*
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 19:30, 6 replies)

Main Board
I have posted some images on the main board, I can finally confess! they are all fakes! I made them with Photoshop.
( evilamnesiac says fuck you Prince, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 19:26, 1 reply)

I cannot explain
why I always seem to miss the end of the QOTW.
( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 19:09, Reply)

when I was fifteen.
I taped and handed in the piano & violin piece from first track of "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" for my music GCSE, and got away with it. Only got a C though.
(nobuttocks last besmirched the internet on, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 19:08, 3 replies)

Oooh! How to explain......................?
I faked an entire money-making salaried job with a car etc for 2 years to my G/F! Until, that is, the time I got a real job and she could actually meet my colleagues.


Fucked if I know how I pulled it off!



Fnarr.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 18:57, 2 replies)

Check dis shit owt
Aliens invade Swansea - god, that photo looks like an MSPaint effort.

The comment from Sara C. is actually me taking the piss oout of my sister; it somehow passed the moderators last night lol
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 18:34, 3 replies)

The folly of youth.
Back in my early 20's I faked my interest in a girl called Sally and her boring, educationally subnormal fucking stories safe in the knowledge that if I showed enough interest in her and her minimal achievements I was pretty much guaranteed a crack at her crack.

Sure enough I got my wicked way but it wasn't worth sitting through her low brow monologues - And I never even apologised for length.
(SpunkyMcSpunkbubble Diddled your nubbin on, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 18:31, Reply)

The Oompa Prompa (SFW)
Jings! The epitome of faking it:

www.hotchickswithdouchebags.com/uploaded_images/DB5101-775223.jpg

My eyes hurt.
(BaronBiscuits, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 18:11, 8 replies)