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This is a question My most gullible moment

Someone once told me that gullible wasn't in the dictionary and I went, "yeah yeah ha ha" but when they were gone that didn't stop me checking. What was YOUR most gullible moment? Zero points for buying an icon on b3ta.

(, Thu 21 Aug 2008, 18:33)
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i believed that my friends liked me
how foolish of me.
anyway i had an ann summers party in june that my sister did for me cuz she's a party organiser and not one of them showed, backing out on the day. turns out apparently they all thought that they were all going cuz they discussed it at this girl's party that i didn't go to [got drunk instead] and then only the girl who's party it was said sorry. out of about 10 people, only 1 said they were sorry, the others didn't even mention it to me.
so fuck them. i've not even been invited to a party that one of them is having on friday. that she booked from my party [the first one they actually came to the day after my 18th this year].
bitches. they can all go screw. i know who my friends are. unfortunately i'm down to about 5 and i'm now paranoid that there's something unlikeable about me and that noone at uni is going to like me =[
cheer me up b3ta, kaydie's not happy =[
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 22:28, 12 replies)
Withering Spoons and Posting Bags
#1 Legally Blonde is on telly. Cup of tea in one hand, biscuit in other. Mother sits across from me.

Me: God this film's shit. All I can say is I'm glad she's dead.

Mum: What?!

Me: Yeah! Where the hell have you been? She got stabbed didn't she!

Mum: Who? Her?!

Me: Yes her! Reese whats-her-name.

Mum: Witherspoon?

Me: No, with a knife!

The joke was on me though as a few days later when my Dads doing the crossword and I'm pouring myself some milk, he shouts through:
"7 across- Postman's Bag"
I frown for an instant. "How many letters?"

Touche father. Touche.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 22:15, 4 replies)
My brother conned me into ringing complete strangers and telling them I was 'after a bell end.'
That's what the bastard told me a bell HOUSING was called.

I was trying the scrapyards for one for my old van's gearbox. Didn't get very far as every bloke I spoke to was hysterical within seconds.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 22:00, Reply)
Though I've told this before, it bears repeating.
A very good friend of mine is a fellow I affectionately refer to as my mad artist friend, as that sums him up quite well. He's very talented- I've seen his sculpture and his paintings- as well as phenomenally intelligent. He can play chess like no one else I've seen, knows more about computers than anyone else I know, and has a memory that's truly frightening in its depth and accuracy- he can tell you, off the top of his head, the serial number of a copy of Windows 2000 he got as a bootleg, and can list the minor characters in Norse mythology in the next breath.

He's also madder than a box of frogs, lives in a basement apartment, chain smokes and lives on frozen pizza, Doritos and Diet Coke.

I've witnessed him telling the most outrageous bullshit to people, and because he's so brilliant he can almost always get people to believe him. He talks at machine gun speed, and always reminds me of Tom Waits' character in "Mystery Men", the mad inventor living in the abandoned carnival, because of his ability to weave in a lot of technical speak until you have no idea what the fuck he's talking about.

Anyway, he had a girlfriend who was also an artist of sorts, although her talents were considerably lesser than his. Apparently one day she showed him the painting she had just completed, and he was complimenting her on it profusely. So when she asked him to frame it for her, he agreed readily.

"Yeah, just go to Lowe's [a national hardware and lumber chain in the US] and get some wood for it. But don't get pine or some other crap wood like that- we need something special to make the frame. Go to the lumber department and ask the guys there if they have morning wood."

She returned a half hour later and started beating him.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 21:43, 3 replies)
Hymen on toast
Several years ago my friend Ash made the mistake of asking myself and two female friends something along the lines of "what actually IS the hymen anyway?"
Oooooh dear.

We proceeded to convince him that it was a type of mustard, traditionally given to girls by their fathers dating from pre-medieval times.
"Oh wow, really?" Said Ash. "Then ... why does it mean it gets broken if you lose your virginity?"
Frantically inventing, we told him that the fathers presented the symbolic virginity-mustard in a sealed glass container, and that when the girl got married, it was broken open and she was anointed with the mustard on her wrists and ankles.
"Whoah ... that's really interesting. I wonder why it died out," said Ash.
I think it was around then we fell over laughing and actually told the poor sod what it was ...
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 21:37, Reply)
collateral damage
when i was a child(and even now), i was very clumsy, falling over and hurting myself almost daily.
one day, whilst shopping with my mum, i tripped over my shoelace. i fell to the floor, smashing my knee into the concrete.
of course, i immediately started bawling.
"look at that!" my mum says, "you've made a hole in the floor!"
she only said it to make me laugh, but to my tiny child's mind it was not funny. it wasn't until many years later that i finally told her why i cried even harder at this: i thought the council were going to charge me for fixing the "hole".
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 21:01, 4 replies)
Chick Peas
During my student days I was cooking a veggie curry for the household and one of the girls kept asking if she could help.

There really was nothing to do so I asked her to peel the chick peas.

She proceeded to individually pull the little see-through shell off of each and everyone.

They were much more pleasant to eat mind, and I'm often tempted to do it myself to this day.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 20:22, Reply)
I told each of my family, individually, that saying banana 3 times really fast sounded like gullible... every one of them fell for it.

Perhaps they were just being nice.. like "be nice to the poor girl" :o)
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 20:18, Reply)
she never forgave me
My very dim ex-girlfriend was only good for two things. Oddly, i reaped more fun from the less obvious one and prefered to revel in her gullibility.

We were talking about getting a new car - something she knew nothing about...whilst in the old car she nipped in the newsagents for OK or something similar "can you look in the car section and get a couple of magazines Escort and Fiesta?" she knew they were cars - bright girl.

I almost wet myself watching her go though them. just when i thought my fun was over, she was lost from view..only to appear with the newsagent who kindly pointed to the top shelf and reached up for said magazeines from the top shelf.

we didnt last long after that.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 19:10, 1 reply)
Phone scam
As a child my dad used to play on my trusting innocence of his wisdom with wilful abandon. I'd never quite "got" the art of gulling someone, but, y'know, beginners get lucky sometimes.

------history bit: you can skip this if you like---

My dad and I aren't colleagues but we work in related fields in roughly the same industry, so sometimes our paths cross professionally. Once we even shared office space.

Now he'd worked for this employer several times in the past as a contractor, with a few years interval between contracts. This company was renowned for its generosity, of course. They installed a phone system that requires you to put in a unique PIN before making your call, so they know exactly who makes which call. If the accountants don't think it's a business call, they simply deduct the cost from your wages if you're staff. If you're a contractor, they send you an itemised bill.

At the end of tenure 1, my dad paid his bill and left. On starting tenure 2, they presented him a new phone bill with calls that hadn't been processed before he left. Time lapsed, 3 years. At the end of tenure 2, he paid up, left, returned after 5 years, rinse, repeat. Leaving for the third time he stood over the accountant and demanded she process the calls, issue a final bill, which he paid before he left.

--------end of history----------

Dearest dad made the mistake of telling me about his woes, and his smug feeling at being able to arrive to this place, where with typical efficiency they'll have no desk or computer for him, but at least they won't be waiting with the bill this time.

A poll of the office turns up a contractor's bill for me to copy, add plausible dates and phone numbers, somewhat inflated costs and interest, late fee, handling fee... nothing major, just about £20.

Realising he'd quickly spot a phoney, I go for a chat with The Accountant. It's safe to say she's not lao-daizi's greatest fan, and was more than happy to add a note to say "call me", and play along.

Day of his arrival, letter wends its way through the infernal mail, lands on desk. Within half a second of opening it, the instantly-furious daizi snr is on the phone to She Who Controls The Payroll demanding heads. She plays her part beautifully by feeding him back his own and ended by suggesting, "your son's being here must've set something off. Talk to him." (I'm patched in on the call, handset muted, btw).

Charging into my patch of desk-desert, he just sees me with a shit-eating grin, saying "gotcha"!

(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 18:13, Reply)
Another tale from a Greek isle
On moving to the island of Kos, I immediately fell in love with its charm. Its beauty was multi-sensory; the village church looked as if it was made of marzipan. I could imagine cutting a slice off to savour at sunset, washed down with a glass of retsina - the oily taste cutting through the sweetness of the church. The taste of warm sea air mixed with the scent of fresh marjoram and the royal herb, basil; blended with the tempting smells of sweet pastries and roasting lamb, all danced capriciously in my nostrils...

One particular balmy evening was especially impressive, the first night I'd seen a full moon since my immigration. I'd watched it rising over the sea, its immense grace emerging from the precipice of the earth, slowly distributing its peachy, silvery light over the sea towards land.

Keen to immerse myself completely in this delightful section of life, I was eager to learn the language as well as customs, cuisine and culture. I made a mini phrase book which was constinually updated with new expressions and grammatical nuances. I already knew that adding the suffix "aki" made the root word smaller, e.g. duckling, riverlet and similarly, adding "ara" to the end had the opposite effect, making a bigger version of the root word, thus: kolos = arse, ergo an arse like mine is "kolara".

The first job I found was in a rustic little taverna as a hostess, for which I received 2000 drachma plus my supper, for 4 hours of chatting. As cutomers dwindled towards the end of the night, my Greek colleagues would teach me traditional dances as well as building on my vocabulary. This particular evening of the full moon, which I'd been admiring at every opportunity, they taught me that the word for moon is "mooni"....

So, a sickle moon would be "moonaki" and the full moon, in all its glory, would be "moonara".

"Yes-yes!" nodded my waiter friends enthusiastically.

Always eager to try out new expressions/vocabulary, I skipped ebulliently down the street, smiling at all I passed and proclaiming, "Kali spera! Ti omorfi moonara pou echoume apopse!"
I thought I was saying, "Good evening! What a beautiful full moon we have this evening!"

After half an hour, I was informed that the word for moon is "fengari".

"Mooni" means cunt...
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 18:09, 3 replies)
Turns your shit black and makes you fat (yet happy)
If you've ever had an Irish drink called "Guinness", it was probably made in the brewery in Dublin. It's a huge place beside the river Liffey, and as a kid we used to drive past it on the way into town.

Here it is!

My mother was (and is to this day) a compulsive liar, but one of her nicer lies she told to me on of these trips. I was 4 or 5.

While driving past, she pointed out the white-capped stills, and said that they were in fact giant milk bottles for giant babies.

I believed this for a long time.. For some reason i wasn't terrified or had nightmares for 20 years. Shows something about my character that even then i found weird things cool. Things like King Kong-sized babies and the paedophiles that love them.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 17:56, Reply)
I made a right fool of myself
whilst burning a CD with images my good lady wanted to show her friends. I left the plastic see-through disc protector over the disk, it was only the 4th time of the disk being rejected that I realised my mistake, and she thoroughly took the piss out of me.

So I took the plastic cover off it, held it up to the light and stated;

"Oooh, cool! If you look really hard, you can see lots of really tiny pictures on it!"

"Really?!" she gasped, grabbed it and held it up to the light. "I can't see them?" and proceeded to squint at the plastic for a further minute.

I did well to avoid the incoming slap when she realised!
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 17:28, 1 reply)
mate of mine
swore blind this was real,

i just let him beleive that.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 17:28, Reply)
Captain Birdseye
I managed to convince one of the older ladies I used to work with in Tesco that all the Captain Birdseye products had to be removed from the shelf.

After she enquired as to why, I told her he had been promoted to Admiral Birdseye, so they had to update all the packaging.

I only told her the truth after she made a right fool of herself in front of 10 of her friends!

Hook...line...and sinker. She is still as gullable and lovely as ever!
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 17:14, 5 replies)
May have been done already (probably been done already) - getting married?
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 17:12, Reply)
Wanderlust's story reminds me...
I have also done the old hand-bigger-than-face-equals-cancer jape, on a female friend of mine only last Christmas.

I was so excited when she raised her hand over her face that I hit her quite hard, forcing her palm into her nose.

She cried.

I wish this wasn't true.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 16:59, Reply)
a freind of mine
managed to convinve half the workforce where he worked that he had a speech impediment which meant he could never say the word "hamburger"

or so he said, he was a compulsive liar.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 16:52, 1 reply)
'Pen Pidyn' is Welsh for 'Gullible'...
One sunny afternoon not too long ago (May this year, actually, although sunny afternoons seem a further distant memory as I type this), some friends and I were enjoying a tipple in a local beer garden in Cardiff while we set the world to rights.

How we got onto the subject of TV shows and their themes is a little hazy, but we managed to convince one of our posse (who we shall call Kev) that they had recently changed the theme tune for Welsh soap opera 'Pobol Y Cwm'.

Two of us, Huw and I, advised Kev that, in order to appeal to a younger audience, S4C (the Welsh equivalent of Channel 4) had recently replaced its familiar lilting electro-acoustic guitar intro for the theme tune to 'Roobarb and Custard', complete with the following lyrics:


Disbelieving at first, but eventually brought round by everyone else's (fortunately straight-faced and equally 'disapproving') affirmations, Kev became more and more outraged at this, even managing to convince himself that S4C had done this without the BBC's consent, and questioning the legality of their actions.

It wasn't until he announced his decision to write a formal letter of complaint that we buckled and told him it was a joke.

Naturally, he was somewhat embarrassed to have fallen for this, although not quite as embarrassed as when he left a couple of pints later to a rousing chorus of


First post, please be lovely.

(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 16:45, 6 replies)
"Did you know that if your hand is bigger than you face
it means you've got cancer?"

Cue many a small child putting their hand up to their face only to have their palm swiftly punched into their nose.

I was such a little bastard when I was younger.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 16:38, 4 replies)
Does this still work?

(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 16:36, 5 replies)
Brass Eye
If, indeed, the celebrities that appeared on it were gullible enough to do it - it's brilliant,

Or perhaps I'm the gullible one for believing that to be true?

Never mind. It's still brilliant.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 16:20, 8 replies)
Olympics prolly bindun
I really believed that the fireworks display the concluded the opening ceremony for the Bejing Olympics were real, oh yeah and that the photogenic little girl was actually singing the song.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 16:12, Reply)
It is impossible
to burn a £5 note.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 15:43, 10 replies)
You light up my life
A while back, we fitted a security light outside with a PIR detector. Nothing unusual in that.

Our neighbour, who likes to "keep up with the Witch's", wanted to know where we'd got it and how much it cost. Just so that he could say his was better/cheaper/brighter, whatever. I was on my way out, and didn't want to get into a long debate about security lights and their wily ways, so threw him an off-the-cuff,

"Oh, that's a special one, it comes with a built in camera as well. Cost a bloody fortune in the shops, but MrWitch's mate happened to catch some as they fell off the back of a lorry."

To my utter astonishment, he believed me, and asked how the pictures were recorded. So I told him they went down the electricity lines and into the PC. I went off to the shops, convinced that he'd have sussed it out with the second remark. I got back a couple of hours later, and his wife was just getting into her car. She grinned at me (unusual in itself) and said,

"You were winding ***** up, weren't you? That's just a normal security light. Do me a favour - don't tell him. He wants one, and I said we'd check in B&Q at the weekend. Well, when I said we, I sure as heck won't be asking. Let him make an arse of himself."

This is not the most romantic of marriages, you'll have guessed. They've been married about 40 years, and he's spent most of it treating her like something you'd scrape off your shoe. She did, in fact, let him ask in B&Q for the magical security light-camera which was able to transmit pictures down electricity lines to a PC. I'm told the guy in the shop didn't even try to keep a straight face, just told him "someone's winding you up, mate."

Apparently he was going to give me a right piece of his mind (not that he's got much to spare) until his missus pointed out that I'd only yell right back at him. And probably laugh til I peed myself. He only browbeats his wife 'cos she puts up with it. It was about a year before he spoke to me again, which suited me just fine.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 15:43, 3 replies)
I have honestly just realised this:
About 10 years ago I work I worked in theatre. One thing I had to do as part of a production was operate a smoke machine.
During one scene I had to be sat on a piece of scenery as it was wheeled on. I then had to stay sat their for the whole scene, about 10 minutes, and operate the smoke machine on cue.
I was sat behind the scenery and and couldn't be seen by either the actor or the audience only people backstage. It was very dull as I couldn't move for the whole scene. Other people back stage would come passed as try to make me laugh.
This was a panto and believe me doing the exact same thing twice a day gets very dull and many jokes are played backstage to relieve the boredom.

One day during the show as this smoke machine scene was about to take place one of the lads said 'I bet you wouldn't do that with your top off'.
'I bloody would' came my reply.
'Nar, you're too chicken'
'Fucking watch me'
So of comes my top and bra and off I go to sit completely still in full view of everyone back stage.

I have only just (really about 5 minutes ago) realised that this was so everyone backstage could sit and look at some 21 year old boobies for 10 minutes.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 15:38, 10 replies)
Back when I was 10 years old
I believed Micheal when he said that he wanted me to go with him to see the amazing collection of Peter Pan statues in his bedroom at the Neverland ranch.

My arse still hurt a week later
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 15:23, Reply)
Tom's Dead!
Not my gullibility, but still good.

A couple of days ago, two friends of mine had a falling out. The argument itself was over something very silly, but it got quite heated and they aren't talking to each other at the moment.

Yesterday one of these two came home from a class, and was talking to me online, when I decided to have a bit of a fun.

Me: Tom is utterly devastated, and set off a while ago to throw himself under a train.
Her: You're joking.
Me: The last words he said to me being "I can't live anymore, knowing that I've caused such upset to Carol."
Her: You're joking. Right?

Now, I didn't for one second think she'd actually believe this, but she did, so, feeling a bit mischievous, I decided to run with it.

Me: Thought you didn't care about Tom?
Her: I care about everyone.
Me: Oh.
Her: I get angry, but that doesn't mean I don't care.
Me: If I get on the phone quick, I might be able to stop him. Be right back.
[pause for a minute or so]
Me: I couldn't get an answer. I think I might have been... too late.
Her: Please tell me you're joking.
Me: I was pretty sure you'd have guessed that I was by now.
Her: No, until I asked Craig [another friend], I was genuinely terrified.
Me: Seriously?
Her: Yes.

She then proceeded to berate me for letting her think he'd gone to kill himself, telling me it was "manipulative and wrong", while I proceeded to laugh at her for being so utterly gullible.
Meanwhile, I sent a copy of the conversation to Tom, who found it hilarious (and which also led to his excellent response; "She really thinks I've thrown myself under a train because I've displeased her? And she calls ME egocentric!")

Sensitive apologies to anyone who doesn't think suicide is anything to joke about. Sorry.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 14:18, 5 replies)
Hedgehog flavoured crisps

I don't believe they were made from real hedgehogs...

not any more anyway
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 14:13, 4 replies)
I believed her…

I believed her when she said she loved me.

I believed her when she said she'd never cheat on me.

I believed her when she said she had got the nickname ‘Town Bike’ because of her love of the Tour De France.

I believed her when I found my best mate ‘hanging out the back’ of her one night and she said he had slipped on a stray tampon whilst they were rehearsing a ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ routine.

I believed her when I discovered she had single handedly given a portion to every one of the 12th Para Battalion (officers included) and she explained that she ‘thought it was part of national service’’

I believed her when I found her in bed with my Granddad…and Granny… and she said it was ‘a new bonus scheme by the Meals on Wheels people’.

I believed her when she cried…with laughter the first time she saw my full-on beef bazooka and said our lovemaking would be like ‘kicking a traffic cone down a runway’.

And that’s why I married her…twice.

Men can be gullible too, you know…

Sincere apologies to Wanderlust…I was just trying to lighten the mood.
(, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 14:11, 12 replies)

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