Ok I admit it
I made them all up.





Creative ain't I?
(bensMum I'm a tart. Why can't you cope with that?, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 12:31, Reply)

My paternal grandfather...
... joined the RAF at the start of WWII, on the basis that, if he didn't, he would probably end up getting drafted into the infantry. Wise.

Anyway: early on, a call was put out for volunteers to go to Canada to work on some aeronautical engineering project. My gradfather, being the sort of person who owned a lathe, volunteered. However, it turned out that "tour of duty messing about with machines in Canada" was military-speak for "several years being bombed by Stukas in Malta".

Or, perhaps, a great big porkie.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 11:45, Reply)

Just remembered this bloke Pete
My old school mate Ron, this bloke Pete and I used to knock around together a bit way back in school days. Pete was your typical sandy headed Aussie kid from a big country town. School days he used to tell stories that might just have been true. "My Dad's car will do 110 miles per hour." Well his Dad was a motor mechanic so it might have been true. "We watched TV from city X last night." Again, his Dad was a radio ham and it might just have been true.

Pete went off and joined the air force as a signalman - he already knew a bit about radio from his Dad. When he got out of the air force the slightly embroidered stories were getting taller. He'd been an officer, not "other ranks" and was thinking about a promotion to Wing Commander but decided to opt out into private industry. When last seen he was a radio technician working for an instrument supplier.

Yes, he owned a near-new Lotus but that was down in Melbourne and he was driving a "company car" here in Sydney. The "company car" was a near clapped out Ford and must have been 12 years old.

But the capper came from his girlfriend. She phoned Mrs. Ron to say that she and Pete were short of money. Could Ron and Mrs. Ron see their way into repaying the $25,000 that Pete had lent them to build their house? Ron admitted borrowing $25 one weekend and paying it back a few days later. That was the last time Ron and Pete spoke.
(Redemption blamed it on the Bossa Nova since, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 11:41, Reply)

Software / IT
As soon as i see stories about people on software/IT courses or there jobs that involve them I think "great, I can't wait to read this because I know all the terms they are talking about and find them really interesting!"




Sorry .. that was a lie too
(three inches of snarling death, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 11:34, 3 replies)

walk in the park
When we were small my dad used to take us to the park.
He always told us the sign in the middle of the pond said
'Do not feed the crocodiles'

When I learned to read I told him it said 'Fishing prohibited'.

His reply?

'They must have moved the crocodiles'
(rcn, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 11:31, 1 reply)

Lies
I'm going to be late for work because I'm reading QOTW...

... but I'll blame it on the tram.
(ComplexStuff Was confused by life on, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 11:04, 1 reply)

NUFC Fan
My mate is a Newcastle United fan and tells the most attrocious fibs... some of these include

Fat Sam would be a great toon manager

Fat Sam would sort out all the lazy players

Newcaslte United would be pushing for he champions League this season

Newcastle would beat the team that I support in our local derby game.

Michael Owen would return from injury better than ever.

The list really does go on - he just doesnt seem to know when to stop lying.. I think he needs professional help !!
(three inches of snarling death, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 10:42, 7 replies)

organic food
I'm not convinced. It seems to me that the supermarkets are taking foods that have always been 'organic' and selling them at twice the price with a different label. My local ASDA's organic veg is identical to its 'non-organic veg - which is to say it doesn't look anything like the malformed and dirty veg you pull out of the ground.

And, of course, 'organic' can mean anything they want it to. Tomatoes grown in a nutrient-rich vacuum in a hydroponic laboratory in Spain are organic because they are an organism. Fish reared in a tiny cage in a sewer in Bangladesh are organic because they are not genetically engineered. The weirdest thing I've seen is organic honey - pity the poor guy who has to chase every individual bee to see where it's getting its pollen from....
(frankspencer, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 10:40, 4 replies)

london underground 2
following the excellent post below...

NEXT TRAIN

"UXBRIDGE 1 MIN
HEATHROW 2 MINS
RAYNERS LANE 3 MINS"

bollocks. this sign, and every other like it all around the network, is a written lie. so are the ones on bus stops which lie (i) about which number bus is due and (ii) how long it will take to arrive and (iii) how long it will take to get you anywhere near your destination and (iv) whether it will terminate unexpectedly and throw you off, making you incur another oyster charge to get on a new one/break down/hit the bus in front of it en route.

unless minutes have more than 60 seconds in them for transport for london. like, say, 60,000 seconds per minute, because that is how long each "minute" lasts in real time.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 10:17, 29 replies)

London Underground
'We apologise for the delay'

lying gits, they couldn't give a toss. if they were even vaguely sorry, they'd put on a tolerable service occasionally.
( ascorbate, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 10:06, 2 replies)

When I were a young 'un
I'd blame everything on my imaginary friend, the Fierce Bad Rabbit (of Beatrix Potter fame).

Until, one day, my brother shot him with an imaginary gun.

Git.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 9:57, Reply)

Joe Daddy
I had a friend from 7th grade all the way up to graduating high school--about 5 years total--named Joey.

His biggest lie was that he had fathered somewhere around four children with different women, beginning at age 12. Subsequent pregnancies followed him all through junior high and high school (that is, when he was "straight" instead of "gay." He must have come out around four times). The kids kept dying or being taken away. His girlfriend, whom I knew, never got pregnant.

Creepily, he used to have a crush on me, but I politely declined. I don't understand why he would lie about knocking up girls--it certainly didn't make him any cooler, as he got branded with the mocking nickname "Joe Daddy" for it.

He didn't graduate, and I have no idea what became of him. Nice guy, but you couldn't believe a word he said.
(AlfishKK, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 9:51, Reply)

My dad is Eric Bristow
When I was a young birdtoddler my dad convinced me he was Eric Bristow. He did look a lot like him and he played darts.

In my three year old head, it all made sense. Once when he was at home and Eric was doing his stuff on tv I did query how he managed it, but he explained that he'd pre recorded it and that was where he had been that morning.

I very probably told all my friends at nursery that my dad was Eric Bristow... Apologies if you're reading this now.
(birdwoman pissed herself at least once on, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 9:51, Reply)

I lied
to my first girlfriend for 6 months, telling her I'd had previous sexual partners when in fact she was my first. I didn't think she'd sleep with me if she knew I was a virgin.

I don't know if that makes me a bad person or not, but a liar? Yes.

Length? It was crap the first time.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 9:41, 2 replies)

A technical rant
How about the big lie peddled by the broadcasters these days:

Digital is better than analogue.

Now, while I do prefer the sound of CDs to old scratched LPs or hissy, burbly cassettes, digital radio (DAB) sounds crap compared to FM, even with a 100% signal strength. I had a DAB tuner, having fallen for the hype about crystal clear reception (true insofar as it's noise-free, but the audio quality sucks), and hardly used it as I couldn't listen to it without becoming annoyed. So I sold it to another gullible soul on ebay. DAB+ is coming, allegedly, but when?

And digital television? Well, there are two factors to consider here - the signal, and the display. Let's take the signal first.

Standard definition (SD) video over an analogue link can give a good quality, albeit not high definition, picture, especially when viewed on a CRT. A digital SD signal is pretty much the same with a decent bitrate, although it is possible to see compression artefacts on fast moving action. But low bitrate signals are awful. Watching football for example is extremely distracting - the players are all fuzzy and the grass seems to be made of green blocks which don't move.

Watching an SD signal (analogue or digital) on an HD-capable LCD makes matters worse, as the LCD has to convert the resolution. Being a digital device, it can't 'smear' the signal across pixels as a CRT can, so the picture is pretty awful, especially with a low bitrate SD digital signal.

Until we can view all channels in HD (which isn't going to happen anytime soon, if indeed at all) then I'm afraid we're stuck with poor quality.

Rant over.

I know a lot of you will think, "Well I've got an LCD telly and it looks great". My sister is one of these people. She can't see the problems I'm talking about. Maybe I'm just too critical (I can see compression artefacts in HD signals too, on occasion). But it's a favourite rant of mine at the moment.

Apologies for length and lack of humour.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 9:35, 15 replies)

Silver Smoothy charm
This guy in my uni halls went on a trip to London and did a tour of the BBC studios.

Claimed he got chatting with smooth-talking housewives favourite Des Lynam who, upon finding our mate to be such a pleasant chap, invited him to co-present on Match of the Day.
Of course, my mate was far too busy with his essays and such so had to turn down Des' offer.
'Although Des did say that if I'm in the area again, to get in touch and we'll go for a curry'.
(burntbread, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 6:33, Reply)

Not so much pathological...
But a lying twat.

Every morning when we used to go for a cig down the embankment at school, good old Barry 'Bullshit' Ashton would always come along and regail us with his tales of last nights adventure...

His dad was SAS (really worked in a glass factory)

The entire wigan rugby team took him out for a pint and paid for a pizza and a taxi home,(He supports Sthelens, so what the fuck?)

He was in the army (at 14!), and then the T.A (demoted i assume) whereby he had access to planes and guns.

He once got chased by purple aki (wikipedia him!) but DIDN'T get bummed. (doubtful)

Something about knowing that bloke who peeled himself on acid, thinking he was an orange (anybody else know what I'm on about? That urban legend that's probably not true, spread by people just exactly like Barry Ashton).

--

The world would be a sadder place without these people.

God bless you Barry wherever you are...


Length? Barry's was bigger!
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 4:04, 1 reply)

Kate you crazy girl...
It was my mates missus, now his wife.

He met her in our horrible local one cold night about 3 years ago, she wasn’t unattractive but she had something weird about her from that first moment they started talking and ended up at our table.

From those first five minutes of them talking and us listening we heard her saying how she was a lesbian (great we thought, we can watch), she was pregnant (despite being a lesbian and had never slept with a man), I vaguely remember us laughing and walking off and leaving him with the nutter and we assumed he would get rid and join us playing darts.

Except they left 5 mins later. Couple of days later we see him in the pub again looking very white.

She was pregnant. We already knew this we told him, she told us the other night. Apparently that was a lie and he was the dad, we told him to get a test done and get shot of her asap.

Turns out she was lying, but he wouldn’t believe it, 6 months after they met out popped a baby, we questioned him on the dates but he didn’t want to know.

Also the kid was very dark (not black but much darker than the “parents”) and seeing as our mate was pretty much albino many laughs were had.

Tried to avoid her as much as I could but some of the lies were great.

She had worked for the government years ago (she was 19 when we met her) and when they are running low on money they would call her company and she would go round putting flu bugs into lampposts that would spray out and make people ill so they would by lockets/lemsips etc thus giving the government enough money for that month????????

Her dad was the guy who stabbed Monica Seles. Her dad was a scum bag but the guy who stabbed her was called Gunter and German or something, her dad was called Ian.

She was walking home one day and saw a jumbo jet land on the motorway and take off again, funny how it never made the news. She reckons it was Aliens.

Her sister was a spy and had been living in Russia doing spy stuff. She had no sister.

After a row with my mate apparently id shagged her, despite the fact im now living in Sydney and she is in London. My mate even called me and went nuts, apparently id flown back just to shag her and left again that night. He still thinks I did it.

Oh and they have 3 kids now, very much doubt any or his, he even reckons 1 is mine, despite not being back to the UK in over 2 years, the kid is only 10 months old FFS.

Length, there’s more but I haven’t the heart.
(Lanceuppercut, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 1:49, 3 replies)

Catman Joe
Not sure if he was a pathological liar or just a local nuuter, but catman joe was a great sense of entertainment.
He worked in the local pub. By worked i mean he collected glasses. For free.
He used to keep a kitten on his shoulder when he walked around town. Apperntly he was a surragte mum for a kitten sanctuary.
He's played live on stage with all the greats in music history. you name them, he's met them.
The reason he spent his time in the backass town in cornwall doing karioke every friday is becuase 'he was too good for the greats to handle'.

As mad and as weird he was always good for a chat :)
(Emily Salvage, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 0:55, Reply)

Childhood lies
I've spent the last few days racking my brains to think of any good lies or liars I knew...

Nothing.

Then this evening I was reminded of my childhood lies.....I was very young....


I love cheese and one day around about when I was 3 or 4 my mother opened the fridge and found the cheddar had a large chunk taken from it - complete with little chickenlady teethmarks.

"Chickenlady" says my mum [Well, actually that's a lie, she has never called me Chickenlady...but for the purposes of qotw, let's suspend reality shall we?]
"Have you been eating the cheese?"

"No!" says I, "The doggy did it"

At which our poor dog whimpered and retreated to the corner in disgrace. I was never told off for eating the cheese - my mother was too impressed at my skills as a liar...either that or the dog's skills at opening the fridge door, removing the Tupperware box in which the cheese was kept, taking a bite out, replacing the cheese, the lid, and the box, then closing the fridge door. Amazing dog!

The skills of that dog didn't end there though...oh no!

I had a very bad habit of putting off going for a pee while engrossed in watching snails or ants track across the garden. So many times I would end up wetting myself (this wasn't recently...I'm still referring to when I was very young).

So to avoid having to wear (now) wet tiddly (I love that word!) knickers, I would take them off and bury them.

When I finally went inside for my nightly bath (that was very necessary otherwise I was smelly, having peed myself) my mother would say...

"Chickenlady" [erm...see above]
"Where are your knickers?"
To which I would always reply, "The doggy took them"

Yes, that amazing cheese eating dog had somehow removed my knickers, dug a hole in the garden and buried them.

Nowadays I can't rely on these lies because sadly the dog died.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 0:00, 5 replies)

Delusional...
My boss, in that position because he owns half the company and is a bored twunt, not, I hasten to point out because of his management skills/experience/personality (back off Rachelswipe, if he gets laid I'll have to kill myself)

Anyways, the lies he makes up include (but are not limited to)
- Sure you'll get paid this week. I put it in the bank yesterday
- I hired this ditzy blonde for her creative skills
- You're all going to get fat bonuses in the next quarter, just keep working!
- We're about to make a big sale!

The sad part about it is that he's the least technical person I know, so has absolutely no clue as to what his employees actually do. Lies aplenty about that..
(pizzaforcat ate some cement and HARDENED the FUCK UP on, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 23:36, Reply)

Concerning the former Mrs Grocer`
While lying in bed one morning, whispering sweet nothings and listening to an assortment of my bizarre music library, 'Hold the Line' by Toto started to play.

The plan formed in my head; I'd tell her the lie, she'd laugh at how stupid it was, we'd make out some more.

"You know, Samuel L. Jackson played bass on this track."

The mocking face I'd expected was instead one of surprise and belief.

So I kept it going. My flatmate backed up the lie seamlessly. We told her the truth in the end.

Then followed it up by telling her the Millenium Dome had been shipped out to Africa for affordable housing. She believed it.



Twice the length of half of it.
(Generator cannot be named for legal reasons, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 23:23, 2 replies)

Tony Blair
......but his lies made me feel all soft and fuzzy. I miss him :(
(Papa Chocolat, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 23:07, Reply)

my ex
he talked so much boswelox! He once claimed that he went to London and he saw Melanie off Eastenders in Stringfellows, and he pinched her bum. Why would she even be in Stringfellows? Why? She wouldnt! Stupid!
(trickbaby, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 22:01, 2 replies)

My uncle
is more full of bullshit than a constipated male cow. He's told me straightfaced tales of how he saw a man get his fingers cut off by an industrial laser and not notice (my uncle picked them up and handed them back to him), and how when he visited the graves in Normandy and uncovered a buried tank on the beach. Over the years we've kind of come to accept his stories with a pinch of salt, but nothing comes close to the story my dad told me about him.

About seven years ago my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer. Not a particularly nice thing to happen to anyone, and to make things worse her husband (afforementioned uncle) started having an affair with the woman next door. One night he's still not back from work and my aunt calls him to ask where he is.
"I'm working late tonight," he says, "I'll see you later."

She's about to hang up when in the background of the call she hears a knock at the door and a dog barking. Only, it's not only in the background in the call, it's coming from next door as well. So she runs round there to find him on the phone, stark naked with the woman he was having an affair with.

I wish there was a happy ending to this tale but the affair carried on until the woman from next door also got breast cancer, and my aunt and uncle had to move house just to remove the temptation. That's love for you.
I'm pleased say my uncle isn't a blood relation, he's just the man my mum's sister decided to marry.
( krang, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 21:52, 3 replies)

Oh God.
I dated a pathalogical liar. His stories included :

- Being raped by a girl
- Being allergic to meat, but being given an injection by the doctor to increase the acidity of his stomach, thus vapourising the meat before it could cause a reaction
- Claiming to have hand-carved me a figurine of a cat that looked suspiciously identical to one my father bought at a market some weeks later

I also attended college with the biggest bullshitter in the world, who once claimed that he sang on stage with Westlife and Steps at Wembley - why anyone would make that up is beyond me. He also told us that, being Welsh, he was great friends with the guys from Dirty Sanchez. Because everyone in Wales knows those guys, natch. On the subject of his Welshness, he also claimed Wales was better than England because 'it had its own language'. Way to go, champ.

Another classic compulsive liar was a friend of an ex of mine. He once informed them that he knew a guy who had a slit cut in his leg to store a knife in.

Oh, and one of my childhood friends told me her absent father was actually British Bulldog, the wrestler. I believed that for bloody years until I finally met her dad.
(the nightmare of cake, Mon 3 Dec 2007, 21:42, 6 replies)