Half Scouse
and Half Italian

My mate believes and insists to us that he is half Italian on his mum's side.

"But your Mum's Scottish?"
"Ah well she was adopted from an Italian orphanage."
"Right. Which one?"
"In Pescara, it burnt down and my grandparents were holidaying near by. They decided to help."
"Right."

His Mum doesn't seem to know about her own back story, but she doesn't like to spoil his fantasy. His fantasy that he isn't half-Birkenhead, half-Motherwell. And a lying twat.
(Waspard has your wank bank account details, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 19:04, 2 replies)

I've been away for 5 and a half years
I have no idea where I have been for the last 5 and a half years and I have nothing to do with the mysterious disappearance of my wife 6 weeks ago. Totally unrelated.

The police, oh that's just routine questioning...

John Darwin
(Neostenine's maker, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 18:37, 1 reply)

Not me but a friend of a friend...
And Caroline takes up the story...

Right, Hello everyone, here's my story....

I have a friend who after sometime being single met this girl called Kate. She seemed nice at first, until we hung out with her more and more and she started talking complete bullshit....

Looking back I guess the biggest give away was that she called herself by a completely different name to the one that her previous friends knew her as....hmm... suspicious....

To really appreciate the nonsense she spoke you have to understand that she was only 19 and had achieved A LOT.
A few of her special lies include:

-She was secretly pregant, engaged and lived with a 30 yr old man, but unfortunately had a miscarriage at 8 months, when questioned about it(by a friend who was born at 8 months) she said it was like a really heavy period...!?!

-The above fiance had brought her a $30,000 silver bmw which she had written off within a week.

-She'd spent a many nights in police cells in Tunbridge Wells for getting into fights in the street....

-One christmas she was pulled over for drink driving but she refused to take the breathalyser cause she knew she was well over the limit... so the police took her back to the station, luckily, when they took a blood sample all the alcohol had miraculously disappeared...(she was onlt 19 so this must have been one of 2 christmases...)

-She lived in Nigeria for 3 months while her and her fiance had been buying a house. Unluckily while she was there she got put in prison for a few weeks because they thought she might have been a spy....

....AT this point we were confused as to how she'd achieved so much since leaving school at 18, then when I started dating her brother, who was much saner and cuter, I got to know her family and would occassionally run some of her lies by them... (they also rather strangely knew her by a different name, Anna)
...like her billionaire grandparents and also after she told us all about how she'd grown up in Spain, her parents were rather confused when I started chatting to them about that one!

One of the last great lies I heard before I stopped seeing her bro was that a few months before I'd met her she'd been sacked from her job after she told her bosses that she needed time off for chemotherapy for ovarian cancer...

Ha ha ha! It makes me chuckle!!

Unfortunately her and my friend have a little girl together and I'm off to their house for a christmas party in a few weeks, I wonder what beauties about her past she'll reveal to us this time...I almost can't wait!

...oh yeah, and Neostenine's Maker says I need to apologise for the length....

It feels good to share my pain though.
(Neostenine's maker, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 18:33, Reply)

A Question of the Week about pathological liars....
is this meant to take the piss?
Talk about pot calling the kettle black.

Or should that be pots calling a friend of a friends kettles black?
(Tip-Top Tomcat but you can call me Tommo, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 18:23, 3 replies)

Gibby...
At school there was a certain friend who was always making up utter nonsense. I will call him Gibby, as that is what everyone called him. He was a sad little lad, and it just made his claims more outrageous that they came from someone so 'uncool'.
Highlights of the total shit he made up included that: He ejoyed racing speedboats at international level in his spare time. Not only this but he had recently had a bad crash and his girlfriend, the co-pilot, was in a coma as a result. And would we mind not talking about it.
He also claimed his dog had been shot 46 times by the IRA. He didn't go into the reasons why (perhaps they were Top Secret)...
There were many others but I seem to have blocked them out. I'll try and remember and post them; or if anyone knows of Gibby by all means expand on the above.

I'm sure there is a medical reason for all this which means I shouldn't really laugh at him. But come on, 46 times?!

*Edit: Now with at least one less embarrassing spelling mistake...*
(brycemonkey No fatal accidents since:, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 18:03, 6 replies)

She was a Christian
Me: "Yeah I don't need sex in the relationship either, as long as I'm with you it'll be fine".

Eight months of frustration and one very confused Christian non-virgin later, it was over.

I think I was lying to myself, if you're looking for 'comp eligibility'...
(Zutroy started without you, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 18:01, Reply)

My dwarf mate claimed that he lived in a giant mansion. When it turned out that he had been telling porkies, he didn't actually seem to care that much.
He was Apathy Lodged 'Ickle Liar

Sorry.
(__, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 17:54, Reply)

Biggest one I've been told
I love you.





Length? About six years.

Apologies for lack of hummus - pass the kittins, it's been a long time since I had a stroke.
(fridgefreezer inserted a topical reference into his sig on, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 17:36, 4 replies)

Not a habitual liar, but definitely in a world of his own.
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.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Mon 3 Dec 2007, 17:34, 2 replies)

Twat
My next door neighbour as a child was one of these fantasists - I don't know if he is now but he still lives with his parents so probably so.

He once claimed to have a tennis racket that could change into a cricket bat - which he stole from Argos... didn't think that one through.

Another claim was that he was a karate champion - which also wasn't quite thought through as this would inspire other kids to try to beat him up. But his really stupid claim was to have saved another kid's life - only to be saved himself in a cub scouts swimming gala when getting into difficulty...
(h3llo, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 17:33, Reply)

I hate people who compulsively lie!
I went out at the weekend and came across such a "friend" who finds it impossible not to lie, literally everything he says you have to take with a pinch of salt.

He had been battered in the face and was looking quite swolen, I asked him what had happened and he said,

"aaaah, it's okay he has already signed his own death warrent"
"his days are numbered"
"..insert random death threat here..."
"I've been talking to Roger... bla bla bla yadda yadda"

Anyway, after being subjected to a few minutes of his bullshit I decided that it was time to move to a different pub, so I did, and Roger was there! Roger hadn't heard from him in weeks! Lying sack of shit.

The guy even told me that my sister fancied him and didn't want to be with her husband! I have no idea where these little fantasies come from, but shit, he must be permanently on acid or something.

People like that are best kept away from!
( Firkinfedup last shat on your wife's tits at, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 17:33, Reply)

Castaboras reminds me
Of a guy I went to school with. He was always telling us really unbelievable things, like his dad was rich or that they had a helicopter, but, like, he was totally lying and he didn't have a helicopter at all. He was in a relationship with my best friend Janet and he said he would love her forever, but he didn't because he ended the relationship when she set fire to his mother....
(frankspencer, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 17:28, 1 reply)

Time travel
At secondary school, one kid made himself popular by telling everyone he had a time machine. It was, however, invisible, so you couldn't see it, and intangible, so it couldn't be felt and the only way he could find it was because of a label tied to it.

Some of my fellow students actually believed this (in those days we'd believe anything). Not only that, they wanted him to bring back proof. They wanted him to bring back a newspaper. From the past.

Proving two things: one, that he either did have a time machine or access to a library and two, that they were stupid.
(BearWithLittleBrain, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 17:26, Reply)

I'd say
L. Ron Hubbard.

Need I say more?
(Spokes, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 17:26, 4 replies)

Inspired by Professor Kenny Martin
I have an ability to make statements/stories sound very convincing. At least to my wife I do.

One example being early in the morning me asking the time. To which wifey glances up at the clock and announces, half past ten.

This being a Saturday (and quite a shocker that the kids hadn't woken up) I glanced up quite please for the extra bit of sleep and saw my opporunity to lie.
"It's not, it's half past eight, your saft"
(me being from the Black Country I sometimes do talk like that).

Cue wifey staring at the clock for 2 minutes trying to figure out why she couldn't all of a sudden tell the time.
Then announcing "the big hand's on the 6 so that's half past, but the little hands near the 10, doesn't that mean it's half past ten.
I can't figure it out".

It probably would have stood for longer except I started shaking with laugher with my head buried deep into my pillow.

Then she smacked me one for making her feel stupid. Man am I childish.
(Opanoid Look sweats dripping off them, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 16:24, 1 reply)

When I was younger...
...so much younger than today, when I was but Master Titsmith...

I knew a chap who was a congenital liar. He would lie all the live-long day, most often informing us of his dazzling career in the Royal Marines. When he was twelve.

These same Marines once airlifted him from a rugby pitch after he broke his back. They airlifted him not in a helicopter, but suspended on a stretcher dangling beneath the roaring, superheated jet exhausts of a Harrier Jump-Jet. They ferried him to a hospital, where doctors re-set his smashed spine, only to return him to the pitch just in time to score the winning try.

His finest hour, though, came when he (aged fifteen) let slip about the army of assault robots he had crafted from washing-machine parts in his basement.







His house didn't have a basement.
(Sir Harrington Titsmith disgraced himself on, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 16:22, Reply)

overheard in uxbridge this lunchtime
... "whatever else you do, be true to your teeth or they'll be false to you" ...

is it Wrong that i nearly inhaled my subway wrap from trying not to laugh out loud? or have i just been working in this inbred chav infested hellhole so long (although back in the city from 20 dec 2007!)???
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 16:07, 6 replies)

just remembered
this guy, how could I forget?

I was working at dominos pizza to pay for my studenty-ness, and this guy was always on about his deals -- property deals, big 'uns too.

He was telling us he'd make hundreds of thousands...then one day he disappeared, and came back in a Porsche. And then a Ferrari.

Balls.
(Exiled Youth [witty comment], Mon 3 Dec 2007, 15:30, 1 reply)

Paulshit
Thought I'd break my longstanding lurking to tell you all about Paul. Paul was an assistant manager at the video rental store that I worked at between the ages of 16 and 19*, and he would lie. A lot. Nobody knows why he did it, especially as he always got caught out, whereupon the lies would spin out of control and he would stomp off in a huff. Amongst the spectacular fibs he told were...

1. His father had taken him to the Return of the Jedi set at Elstree studios as a child, and he had been allowed to keep a Stormtrooper's rifle. When asked to produce said prop, he said he'd had to leave it behind when he'd legally divorced his parents -- the same parent he lived with at the time.

2. He had just left the Army after seving as the youngest Lieutenant in British history.

3. Apropos of the previous porky, he had apparently spend a good few harrowing years in the Gulf... but he didn't like to talk about it. We worked out that that would have made him a serving officer at the age of thirteen or so -- truly the youngest Lieutenant in British history!

4. He couldn't drive a car because he had a metal plate in his head (from the Gulf war, donchewknow) and the car's engine would cause it to vibrate against his brain, sending him to sleep. Five minutes later he was chatting about the Honda Goldwing motorcylce he was going to buy next month. When asked how he had overcome the metal plate problem, he actually stated that motorocycle engines vibrate at a different frequency, and therefore kept him awake and alert.

5. He was so highly trained in martial arts that he could kill you with his thumb.

6. Second "best" lie -- he had busted knees becaus ewhilst flying a helicopter in the Gulf war the undercarriage was shot out from underneath him by Iraqui forces and he was forced to land the craft with his feet in order to save the passengers. Yes, that's right... Flintstones-style.

6. "Best" lie ever -- inexplicably, he managed to get married. He was married for about six months, before he got fired from the store for blatant theivery on a grand scale. At this point a saner man would have come clean with what had happened... but not Paul Oh, no. Instead, Paul kept his video store uniform and left the house every morning as if her were going to work. Yes, that's right... Family Guy-style. Quite how explained the lack of wages I'll never know, but kudos to him for trying, I guess!

Length? His nose put Pinocchio's to shame!


*If you're reading this, Richard Law... get in touch!
(Orin delurked to post this gibberish on, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 15:28, 2 replies)

Scott and Cliff
I worked with Scott in the Ministry of Cow Counting a few years ago.

His job was to tot up the number of cows in the UK and send it off by telex (how quaint!) to the European Commission so they knew how many cows we had.

"Just doing the telex now" he would say every Friday, justifying his job.

It was while he was on an extended holiday that we realised that the number of times he had "done the telex" in the last three years was a number slightly less than once.

On his return from holiday (extended by two weeks because he had broken his leg at a Cliff Richard concert), he was confronted with the truth.

We were also confronted by a great truth: Cliff Richard hadn't broken Scott's leg, he simply fancied an extra two weeks off work.

Sacked on the spot, which is pretty impressive for the Civil Service.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 15:21, 5 replies)

I may be in the gutter, but I'm looking at the stars
My sister used to run a hostel for the homeless in London. One of the residents was a well-spoken middle-aged chap whose one downfall was a crippling taste for the bottle. He was pretty bonkers but well liked and affable and in his more lucid moments would claim, in a matter-of-fact sort of way, to come from minor aristocracy and be vastly wealthy. He drifted in and out of the hostel for a couple of years before he eventually popped his clogs while resident in the hostel, leaving my sister to sort out the arrangements. Turns out that far from being a pathological liar, he was indeed a toff with a family estate worth millions. Obit in The Telegraph, etc. So next time you pass a down-and-out in the gutter, it might be worth asking them if they can spare the price of a cuppa tea.
(botchjob, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 15:06, Reply)

A very good friend of mine...
... is a compulsive liar. Nothing major, just little things regarding the people he knows, in what appears to be an attempt to make his life into some kind of sitcom. And he's generally very good at it. Most are insider jokes, but here are some more universally appreciable ones:

He's autistic "Sorry about that, but I don't know the difference between right and wrong"

He's a Messianic Jew - lie, but nearly got himself the presidency of the uni Jewish Society

Actually convinced someone that one of his housemates, after an argument about cleaning, had organised a "Cleanliness-Rocks" music marathon at the uni aimed at promoting student health and safety featuring such Rock-Lite bands as Nickleback and Creed, and that if it was a success, 2008 could see Rules and Manners-Rock

Almost unbelievably though, it's this incrimental bullshitting which has allowed him to forge a part time career as a BBC journalist and become a lowly but successful stand-up poet. This has allowed him to recall genuine anecdotes, such as offering Nicola Roberts a cake with her name on it whilst drinking with Cheryl Cole which she refused, or taking a piss at a conference centre next to a former British prime minister, making it very clear that he WAS looking at his penis before exclaiming "Jesus Christ! You're John Major!" To which the former PM replied "Yes, I am." Problem is we have a boy-who-cried-wolf situation here, but none-the-less, he now makes a living from it...
(revilomcc, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 14:50, Reply)

Here We go...
I live in Sweden.

And while the majority of IQ-related blonde stereotypes are truly blown out of the water here, you occasionally meet a winner.

I will on occasion - in the time-honoured tradition of a story-teller - take someone elses' story and re-tell it. This has given me hours of entertainment while feeding vacuous bimbos outrageous un-truths.

While most lies told to bimbos are of the "I'm hung like a horse and have no diseases" nature, I have no intention of bedding them as I'm not interested in brain-dead boxes of assorted creams. I like my lasses to be intelligent and with a sultry smile and a gleam in the eye.... I digress.

My usual pub-haunt is a well known Irish bar in Malmö. The Pub is by no means a meat-market, but "english men" (try not to laugh) are considered "exotic" in Sweden. We're known to be good lovers and apparently appreciate the "Nordic Form" better than Swedish men do. We have - if you'll pardon the crudeness - a Season-Ticket to the cock-wash.

A friend and I regularly prop up the wall while the other absentmindedly treats the darts board and surrounding furniture to some neolithic acupuncture. The regulars might be sat drinking quietly, and a few might be watching TV, and then there's us: Two Rock-climbers, talking english and throwing darts. We tend to draw the attention of the curious and the horny. We offer no complaint, but every now and then I have to play wingman and deal with the "bimbo" in a duo of girls.

I play with rumours of english culture... I don't enjoy footbal per say... "I just go for the fighting"
I also say I want to bring my kids up in the UK so that I'll be allowed to Beat them.

I even once managed to convince a lass that English people only inherrit their family name until they get a job: At which point their name is changed to the job title. My first job - for example - was working in a Bakery... hence my surname being "Baker"... i explained that Until I was 12 (I got the job at 13 like most other english people do) I was called SensibleNick Fitz-Windsor the 3rd.

Current favourite Bimbo-fired amusement is to use and old gem that I may have first read here.
"What do you do for a living?"
"Well, I'm a naturalist by trade, but I'm currently on sebatical" (words like "sebatical" seem to confuse drunk Scandinavian bimbos and make them believe you)
"Oooh... so, What are you doing before you go on Seba-tickle?"
"I worked for an Antarctic climate review panel, as a penguin-righter".
"A what?"
"A Penguin-Righter: you see, I'd go with the scientists as they flew around in their helicopters, and we'd record the positions of groups of penguins we flew over. Once we'd landed and the scientists started to do their tests, it'd be my job to put no the CrossCountry Skis, and go back to the penguins and put them back on their feet".
"But why did they fall over?"
"Well, there are no other big birds in Antarctica so the penguins never see things go over them... so when a Helicopter flies over them, they look up, and up and then fall over backwards as they try to follow the helicopter's path through the sky... And as we all know.. Penguins don't have knees, so they can's stand themselves up again: That's where I come in...."



The list goes on. My Father taught me well =)
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Mon 3 Dec 2007, 14:45, 5 replies)

Who says liars never prosper?
My girlfriend (the uber-lovely Jessie) has a pathological need to tell me lies about what's behind me.

This usually occurs when there's food in front of me.

This can take the form of telling me something outright bizarre, or just a quizzical narrowing of the eyes, accompanied by a refocussing just over my shoulder.

The funny thing is I genuinely fall for it every time.

The latest (and possibly the greatest) example of this was yesterday, in a Chinese restaurant where she suddenly exclaimed "I've just realised. That fish is stuck to the side of the aquarium 'coz it's a sucker fish."

I looked over my shoulder at the fish tank, scooched round on my chair for a better look without cracking my neck, and saw no sucker fish. I just turned round to tell her this in time to see her dropping a scalding hot Szechuan prawn which she couldn't keep in her mouth any longer =D
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 14:33, 10 replies)

A workmate...
we'll call her Nadia for that was her name.

Excuses for being late to work:

"The locks on my car have frozen so i can't get to work. I've driven it in the garage to warm up with the heaters on"

"Sorry i'm late back from lunch, I got halfway down the road before I realised i'd left my car keys at Tesco"

"My mate builds laptops with any spec for £200"

So i ordered one with the most over the top spec you could imagine which she said was 'easy' to build.

She never came back to work.

Length? well a 32" widescreen laptop is going a bit far
( FlexAlux laughed at something inappropriate on, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 14:29, 1 reply)

John the slaver.
John the slaver lives in my area and simply cannot tell the truth. I doubt if he ever has.

When I first met him he told me he was the manager of a swanky clothes shop in town and that if I went in he'd get me discount. I went in and nobody in the shop had heard of him - it turned out he worked in Sainsbury’s.

He had to cut a holiday short as his son was involved in an accident (that part was true). He said his son lost 2 toes in the accident but they grew back.

I think his best was when he had his Mum come in to the local boozer and tell everyone that sadly he wouldn't be around for a while as he had leukemia. As much as he was a knob, folk in the pub obviously felt for him and had a wee collection. With the money raised, they bought a big bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates which one of the barmaids took to his house. When she got there his Mum told her she better come in and that he didn't in fact, have leukemia - he'd lost his driving license! (wtf?)

The last time I bumped in to him he owned 5 pubs and was thinking of buying a restaurant in town.
(Jack of Hearts, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 14:11, Reply)

Another Guy From College..
By name of Ricardo has in the past tried to conivce us of many things. According to him, he:

- is best friends with Avril Lavinge
- has a job as a lighting tech which pays 900-odd quid a week... but he never takes the money.
- did the lighting for the Full Ponty festival this year
- regularly lights shows for big names playing in Cardiff
- passed his course with flying colours (he failed spectacularly, we've seen his grades)

Oddly enough, I've been at most of the gigs he claims to have worked at and never seen him once... although I've seen the rest of the lighting crew, which strikes me as slightly odd.

No wonder nobody likes him.
(TuftyBee should have been working on, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 13:56, Reply)

Bus lies!
Even the bus companies are lying to us now.



Had it said Cuboidal I'd have believed it.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 13:13, 4 replies)