flying danger
"I never fly with budget airlines" said a colleague of mine. "because if there's maintenance needed on the plane and they are pushed for time, they check the passenger list to see if anyone important is on board, and if there isn't, they just let the plane go and take the risk..."

Despite my arguments against this ludicrous suggestion (the engineers don't have access to passenger lists, and maintenance is very heavily regulated in the UK), he continued to insist that he had a mate who worked for a budget airline and had told him this, not only that he'd seen a documentary about it as well...

Unfortunately he repeated his story in front of another colleague of mine, who is a total aeroplane nut (or "enthusiast"), who is very knowledgable in airline procedures, and whose father worked on maintenance for BA for many years.

But even when faced with obvious contradictory facts, the guy wouldn't budge. A bullshitter should at least have the balls to back down once proved wrong...
( calibrax loves teh hamsters (not in that way), Wed 5 Dec 2007, 14:26, 3 replies)

Totally off Topic.
Right.
Recently you all seemed to have a laugh at poor little me, bunged up to the eyeball with peanuts.

Recently I've been cooped up with "Vinterkräkssjukan" Literally translated to "winter vomit illness". Yes, That's right: Besides having Saunas, Volvos and Suicide as national passtimes, Swedes also have a traditional winter illness that causes you to hoy your guts up. It's tradition: one must comply.

So. Sat at home with a sore throat I've got an empty fridge. No more milk, the bread is out, the butter went two days ago, and to cap it off I'm out of coffee beans. Last night I rounded up my spare change and togged up to brave the vile weather.

You know how it is: you're ill, you're feeling sorry for yourself and you drift around the supermarket in your own fuzzy world. I treated myself. I found Dates and Figs, and the coconuts were on offer - 2 for 16Kr - very resonable. upon reaching the checkout I noticed I'd forgotten to get bread, but who fucking cared, I had dates.

Half an hour later, giggling like a happy mong and sipping whisky I raised the hammer and whalloped the freshly drained coconut. YAY!!! I rekon there's stilla small bit under the sofa somewhere... no bother. I like dried coconut too.

A couple of determined knife-wielding Tongue-out-of-the-corner-of-mouth minutes later I had a bowl of BIG coconut chunks. More joy than I'd had for days as, with a bowl of dates, Figs and coconut I sat with a Fondu fork infront of the TV and chilled. If you've neglected to eat coconut since you were kid, go do it. Its excellent.

A good while later, and a few minutes into the umpteenth episode of South-Park, Ms Humpty rang to ask if I was feeling better. "Yep, I've got me some Coconut" I said, my grin most likely audible over the phone as - fiening sophistication - I skewered the last bit and chomped loudly on it to prove my point.
"Be careful with coconut baby, It's a laxative"

*Humpty mentally replays the last hours of dietry idiocy*

Fuck.

Double Fuck.

I surveyed the bowl. No dates. No figs... the only testament to my sugar-laden dried-fruit feast was a pile of date stones and the bit you bite off the figs. Not cool. Dried Fruit... Life flashes before you at these moments, and I then recalled my grandmother eating 3 prunes at breakfast time to ensure she crapped....

You know the bit in films when - sporting a face of pure horror - people back slowly away from the evil creature? ... Good. Ever seen anyone try to back away from their own ass? That was me: about 24 hours ago. Evidently I failed to get away.

I now have an ass that is the anotomical equivalent of Sarajevo, My bathroom is a warzone, and I've run out of toilet paper: When the day started I had 2 rolls left. I think it's over now, but by God it was a rough ride.

Things to eat in moderation
Figs
Dates
Coconut
Peanuts.

As you start your festive season, I suggest you follow my advice. The result of failing to do so will end with liquid going though your anus in one direction or the other.

It's hard to measure the length of liquid: especially when it's going that fast.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Wed 5 Dec 2007, 13:54, 8 replies)

I met Alan...
...where I worked once, a Motorway Service Station. Like many subjects of the stories here, he had the compulsion to "one-up" any of your own tales. Memorably, he was once telling me that he had one of the most ubiquitous grafiti tags in the east midlands, and that once he was tagging something on a railway line when he was alarmed to notice a train only at the last minute; he had no choice but to hit the deck between the rails and let the train pass over him.

"You must have shit yourself!" I said, to humour him.

"Yeah, I actually did" he replied ashamedly, as if admitting to this would lend his story the credibility it lacked.
(mcnelson, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 13:43, 1 reply)

Still don't know if it was a lie
It was entertaining enough which was the main thing. Sitting in a pub up in Scotland, somewhere on the west coast, when I was a nipper. Folks were having a drink and got chatting to this slightly swaying, grizzled looking, Irish fellah (Broad Irish accent). Apparently he'd got insanely drunk the previous night in his hometown on the east coast of Ireland, and, attempting to stagger back home, was overcome with exhaustion as he staggered past the local docks.

Being an enterprising chap, he decided to take a quick nap, under a tarpaulin to get a bit of shelter from the cold wind, in the nearest boat. Sure enough, he wakes up the next morning in bonnie Scotchland, and makes his way to the pub, where we met him, and he told us his, quite believable, tale. Might still be there, who knows, but I was impressed at how he took it all in his stride.
( LemonEntryMyDearWatson This time, Moriarty, the hand is on the other foot, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 13:24, Reply)

Fatal Duvet Error
My ex-flatmate and general aasistant party goer (who shall remain nameless) had the annoying habit of always lying for pure one-up-man-ship.
A couple of years ago we were talking about going camping and mentioned arctic slepping bags and the like. At this point my mate said he had a duvet that was so warm it was 100g/cm2.
He was most upset when I pointed out that would make a standard double duvet 4 metric ton.
Length? it nearly crushed him
(soldinio is counting the hours until, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 12:56, 13 replies)

Munchausen's Syndrome and the Liar's Paradox.
One of the reply threads below concerns Munchausen's Syndrome, wherein people invent illnesses for themselves. And it's made me think of the "Liar's paradox". If a person says, "Everything I say is false", do we believe him? If the statement is true, then it's false, and vice versa.

Now: Munchausen's is a recognised psychiatric condition. An illness, if you will. So can a person fictitiously claim that they are suffering from Munchausen's syndrome? If they do make this claim, then they might turn out to be suffering from it after all - in which case, the statement would be true and thereby self-refuting (since Munchausen's dictates that the statement would have to be false).

In other words, can you be Munchausen about Munchausen?



Does it show that I'm facing a pile of menial administrative tasks today? Bah!
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 12:52, 7 replies)

22 tonne salmon
the irishman in my local witnessed a 22 tonne salmon being landed in nearly deadly weather.

tried to drag it out by hand, fell over, salmon was thrashing too much.
went to fetch a horse, horse fell over.
ran 30k to the nearest town and drove a tractor all the way back at 30mph. tractor was sliding but eventually they got it out.
biggest salmon ever caught in dungwraahaheree
think he might have been little unhinged, cuz he started jigging afterwards

i had to buy him a pint just for the lol factor
(Joe Guevara is well known for stealing your biscuits, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 12:50, Reply)

I am sorry
Because I used to sell cars.

And sometimes I told the truth.

Come to think of it, which way around does that me the bigger loser?
(dadadali has hybrid vigour, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 12:22, Reply)

Jeffrey Archer
Nuff said.
( the_other_jeff_lebowski Croutons on my tits, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 12:11, Reply)

Think these posts are good?

Bloody hell, you should hear mine…It’s easily about a million times better than all of these put together and would easily win this QOTW…no problems at all.

No need for me to beg you to click ‘I like this’ on my post, mateys…you won’t be able to help yourselves. You’ll all be pretending that this happened to you and lying about knowing me when you spout this story to your mates in the pub…and it’s all gospel…I have witnesses and everything.

Lord Of the Rings? The Bible? That’s all bollocks, mate. My story whips the arse off all of ‘em and it’s all TRUE – It actually happened to ME!

Oh…actually…when I think about it…the thing is…I’m not reeeally allowed to tell you what it is because…erm…I used to work for MI3 and….erm…they’d have the Russians put Platinum in my chips…or something like that…they really do that, you know…your lives could be in danger just talking to me…and I won’t always be around to protect you with my Kung Pow & psychic powers…I might have said too much already

But mark my words, it would’ve been the best and funniest post of this QOTW by miles…make no mistake.

You try proving otherwise.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 5 Dec 2007, 11:16, 5 replies)

Geppetto was never the same....
After I had finished doing all my chores for the day I decided that I would relax with a cool beer in the garden and listen to some Marilyn Manson.

Unfortunately Geppetto returned early that day and came out to the garden just as I was finishing my cigarette, so I threw the empty can and the butt over the hedge.

He walked over to me, looked me in the eye and asked if I had been drinking and smoking while I boldly said I hadn't.

On the ride to the hospital it turns out my nose had managed to break three ribs and cause severe internal bleeding of the large intestine. One of the female paramedics was totally checking me out and we chatted about the need to creosote every five years.

Later that day Geppetto's missus, Florence, arrives at the hospital, unfortunately she is just in time to catch me in a rather compromising position with the female paramedic. Flo yells at me what the hell do I think I am doing so I reply "Walking the dog, what do you think" That was enough to finish the paramedic off, so while she was catching her breath I went outside for a smoke.

Length? About 2 foot if I have been liberal with the truth
( TGB checking Off Topic is still shit at, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 10:15, Reply)

Legless' homeopathy rant...
It's a bit off-topic, but it is Wednesday, so ner. Anyhoo: if you liked that, have a peek at www.jesusandmo.net/2007/11/16/snap/
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 10:10, Reply)

UN high commander
Some years ago I was doing some insurance work for a Japanese second hand metal company. The main trader I shall call John. John was half Lebanese. Not sure if that is relevant. Anyways, we "did lunch". turns out John the second hand metal trader used to be in charge of procurement for the UN compound in Mogadishu. Yeah right. Based on that and me being in marine insurance the topic naturally got round to various wars and ships and I told John a true story of the Iran Iraq war where an LPG ship got bombed and the bomb didn't go off, but sat in the double hull surrounded by thousands of tons of liquid LPG.
Scroll on a few weeks and we have another meeting, and (Yippee) another lunch, at which John tells me the exact story about the LPG carrier I told him except this time he chartered the ship and was responsible for getting the bomb removed.
I wanted his business so I never did tell him what a bunty futtock he was
Length? Went on and on and on
(The Hooded Bean is in my pants Can't resist a Fanny/Tranny Joke, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 9:05, 5 replies)

Depressing and long
When I was a teen my older brother was firmly into his skag and was making an effort to get off of it. One of the things he used to substitute his brown was copious amounts of alcohol, including Natch and whisky.

One night I was on my own in the house and discovered a bottle of his whisky. I promptly drunk the whole bottle to myself and ended up being quite ill.

Upon the discovery of his missing alcohol in the morning, my brother was a little cheesed off. My parents weren't exactly pissheads and it's highly unlikely someone broke into the house to nick his whisky, so the blame in his eyes (rightly so) fell on me. Me being a little shit at the time fervently denied drinking his alcohol, claiming he must have done it himself and forgotten. Understandably this pissed him off no end.

Cue the big argument and at this point my parents had heard the ruckus and were defending me.
"There's no possible way he could of drunk all of that bottle, he would of been sick" etc etc

The argument escalated into violence and in the end the police were called to take him into custody. This caused a rift between the family and him and unfortunately a few months later he died of an overdose.

I really, really, really wish I had told the truth and to this day I have incredible difficulty telling even the smallest of lies.

:-(

Apologies for length, tone etc
(Sonny_Jim Kirkladn has a small penis, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 7:57, 6 replies)

My Mate
Is liar.

He keeps telling people in the pub that I claimed to have invented the indefinite article, the word "the".

And I've no idea why.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 5:40, 5 replies)

Biggest wanker of the year award
Knew a bloke in Mainframe software sales some years ago that seriously couldn't lie straight in bed. Most people had to re-read his business card just to make sure he was giving the right name - we all know this sort of wanker. Anyhoo, enough of the prologue, to the story (one of many, I assure you):

Said salesman was based in Sydney and was in Melbourne meeting a new prospect ('twas this very prospect that became a client of mine some years later who regaled me with this opus).

Within 15 minutes of meeting said prospect, he was already espousing the joys of owning a bright red Ferrari (could he have been any more cliche?), and promptly invited said prospect to a ride in his chariot if he ever came up to Sydney. As this was in the days of a $700 return flight and prospect was a "lowly" person in the scheme of things, our intrepid future politician thought he would never have to come through with the "ride of a lifetime".

Unbeknown-st to our BWOTY, the chap had a brother in the prestige used car market in Sydney and regularly invited him up to Sydney to help out - a fact not provided to our chump. So, a week goes by and our Melbournian friend calls the Sydney salesman with his flight details and asks for a life from the airport in his Ferrari.

This, dear reader, is where the true liars come into their own, with bullshit, bravado and sheer front!

BWOTY picks up our friend from Sydney airport in a much lived in and well-used Commodore (Vauxhall VXR8, but much, much lower rent - for our Northern friends). As our erstwhile storyteller gets into the car and asks "innocently": "Where is the Ferrari, mate?", our hero responds with the following classic:

"Mate, you wouldn't believe it, some unthinking bastard ran into me just yesterday and I had to take it to the Smash repairers to get fixed, and all they had as a loaner was this piece of shit!"

Not to be put off, our friend lets the line out to see how far this fish will go with:

"Bugger, was really looking forward to seeing the car... hey, can we go to the Smash repairers and see the car, I've never sat in one and would really love to"... quick as a flash, our mate comes back with: "Yep, no problems, I'll have to call to arrange it with them, so I'll pick you up from your hotel tomorrow and we will go then".

{Fade to black, scene moves to front of hotel the next morning as the Commodore rolls up to pick up our guest and take him to the Smash repairers}

Visitor: "So, how far to the Smash repairers?"
BWOTY: "Mate, you're not going to believe this, but the Smash repairers burnt down last night & my car has been destroyed! Worse than that though, they didn't have any insurance, so I'm going to keep this bloody car"

Bloody good swap, I would have thought - $220,000 for a Ferrari, $2,000 for a bomb Commodore - yup, this guys was a genius! So, dear reader, when met with a liar - pathological, you had better be prepared, as they will weave an alternative world better than any concocted by Mr Tolkien!
(AusMark, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 2:44, Reply)

Lying to cover up laziness count?
At uni, a friend emailed a lecturer his assignment so he could get a mark. The lecturer emailed him back days later saying he couldn't find the email, was it definitely sent? Friend says "yeah, absolutely". A few days later an email comes back saying "OK, I found it, you got 79% on the assignment." Friend then checks his sent folder and discovers that he forgot to attach the assignment to the email after all.
(Cuthbert Annihilator, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 0:35, 2 replies)

My Dad used to lie to me all the time as a kid
God knows how many I've forgotten - the ones I remember are those that I insisted were true to other people, when I was older, and was laughed at. I asked him why he lied to me so much when I was a kid and he said it was funny. Now I'm an adult I can see his point and plan on doing the same to my kids.
Some of the lies I still remember:
* Dussledorf is German for this'll do. It goes back to the early settlers of the city.
* Russian is English backwards.
* The world is only 8 miles in diameter - I didn't question this until I was about 16!
* If you don't milk cows they implode and that's how you get oxo cubes.
(Creamy Discharge Freeze Motherstickers, this is a fuck up, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 23:47, 1 reply)

Bullshit Jason
yeah, that's his real name but what the fuck. There's loads of people called Jason and I don't really care if he's reading this. Fancied himself as a hardcore death metal dude, which is a bit of a hard act to pull off when you still live with your mum in a Leeds council house.

BJ claim:
Don't tell anyone, but I've got a deal going with a bloke to sell used parts from Tornado aircraft engines. Fell of the back of a lorry, ya know? They're about 50% solid gold - we'll make a killing!

Me: Well you do remember me telling you I was in the air force 2 years ago, right? And I used to work on Tornado engines? Any you really think you're getting hold of some parts and they're made of gold? Bullshitting bastard!

BJ: Um....I've got ta call this bloke....he must be trying to rip me off!

BJ claim:
Yeah, I'm a 3rd dan karate black belt. I've been training with nunchacks for the last year.

BJ's Nunchak performance:
Had a party at a mate's house. He actually could use nunchaks, but didn't make a big deal of it. As a little show-off piece he whipped out a set of rubber training nunchaks and showed off some funky moves for the drunken revellers.

"Hey BJ! You're a 3rd dan black belt with those things! Go on, show us some stuff!"

BJ: Erm....well, I'm a bit out of practice...and.....like....I'm a bit drunk right now

*staggers a bit for emphasis*

"nah - come on, mate. Show us some moves!"

BJ grudgingly takes the nunchaks....looking a bit nervous. Looks around the room at a dozen Leeds pissheads all watching him.

*Takes up an exaggerated karate stance*

BJ twirls the nunchaks around a couple of times...

*sniggering from our corner*. This should be fun!

BJ tries to swing them around his neck like he's seen in kung fu films, but cracks himself on the side of the head with them instead. Hard.

*derisive laughter all round*

But BJ, the pro bullshitter looks for an "out" regardless:

*stares at the nunchaks intently*

"oh fuck! Why didn't you tell me about the weight of these things? They're weighted all wrong! I can't use these.....you got anything heavier?"

*more derisive laughter*

BJ claim:
"Hey - lemme see your bank card. Yeah...wonder if I can still do this? I know this math formula to work out your PIN number from your Visa number"

*This should be fun*

ME: "go on, then!"

BJ: Pulls out a pen and paper and scribbles some maths for a few minutes...

"your PIN number is 3942!"

Me: not even fucking close! I picked my own PIN number you sad muppet - it's got fuck-all to do with your visa number!

BJ: Hmm.....that used to work....dunno what they use now!

Havn't heard from BJ in ages. I assume he's still a death metal ninja warrior who deals in scrap gold from jet engines while living with him mum
(evilbert has his nob out under the desk., Tue 4 Dec 2007, 23:36, Reply)

my best friend
my best friend all through school was a girl called joanne. we met when we were 5 and were practically inseparable.
as we grew older, it became clear that joanne was a bit of a slapper. she would shag any lad she could, probably looking for the affection she never got from her dad(evil cunt that he is).
one night, when we were 15, we ran into some guy she liked who was a couple of years older than us. i knew what he wanted and i knew she would give it to him, but he was an arse and so, to protect her, i dragged her home. well, most of the way. there is a hill between our houses, so i walked her to the top of the hill and watched her walk down the other side and(or so i thought) straight home.
next day, i found out that she'd run around the bottom of the hill and met up with this bloke again, shagging him on a park bench. she thought it was hysterical.
for 5 months.
then she realised she was pregnant and unable to hide it from her parents anymore. how does she deal with this? she cries rape, obviously. now, the guy in question may have been a complete arse-hat, but i knew for a fact that he didn't rape her and i wasn't going to see him go to prison for a lie. it cost me my best friend, but when the police questioned me, i told them the truth. i may lie myself at times, but not about something as serious as that.

length? she had her second kid 10 months after the first.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 23:34, 5 replies)

i was had
went out with some mates to the star and garter in manchester. there was a couple of bands on and it was the british sea power album launch. i got shit faced and was told in the morning that i had met the band and told them i narrowly missed out on getting tickets to their gig because "these cunts didnt want to go".
they kept this going for months every so often saying "i cant believe you dont remember it"

wankers a few months later i was told that i didnt meet them, the signed promo cd was infact signed by my mate. and a coke dealer threatened to stab me in the eye for wasting his time.
(suboftheday, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 23:03, 1 reply)

This builder once told us that
we needed some ties removed from our chimney to get a gas fire fitted. He went all the way to the Caribbean with our money to research the best way to do it. Practically the definition of professionalism if you ask me. We got to stay with the in-laws for three months while we got the chimney fixed... Bonus.
(shengus, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 22:46, Reply)

I used to be one when was a kid.
Had a whole fantasy world going on, i would lie about everything, get caught out and still try to carry the story on. Thankfully it was never anything sinister just constantly bending the the truth for some strange reason. I have stopped now though, I find animal murder a more adult substitute. I actually murdered a famous cat last week, belonged to the queen mother until she died, she left it to the queen. So it was royalty!
( op op op op op I stink therfore I spam, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 22:38, Reply)

dealer to the stars.
my mates bird claims her flatmate was the guy who got lindsay lohan hooked on coke. the thing is, they live in a dingy flat in glasgow. which The Hives had to stay in one night cos there was a problem with their hotel but luckily my mates bird bumped into them just as this tragedy unraveled. bizarrely there are no photos of this event. or of the time she was the singer of a band that toured the states for 3 years. where she was an extra on baywatch one time.

i wish i was the liar and making this up about her. but im not.

RAB! SHES A FUCKING LIAR! GET SHOT OF HER!
(Raol Duke, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 22:34, Reply)

I knew this girl
When i was in primary school, she used to say that she was married to a prince who had his own castle, baring in mind she was like 8 years old! As she got older she then told everyone she was a pole dancer and crap like that. She is quite literally mad, and skanky now..24 with 3 kids, maybe she lied she was on the pill!
(catzeyes Princess Trampagne, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 22:22, Reply)

Marilyn Manson
used to deny being Paul off the Wonder Years.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 21:20, 1 reply)

Testicles
One guy in our local came in about a month ago sobbing and crying and told us he'd just found out he had testicular cancer.
As I've mentioned elsewhere in this QOTW, I've recently had a lot of experience with cancer deaths, and one of the regulars is the one who lost his wife through cancer in July.

We all felt sorry for the guy who said he had cancer, bought him drinks and had a whip round as he didn't have health insurance.

We went to give it to his wife the next time she came in......only to be told he didn't have testicular cancer, his nuts just hurt when he had sex.

About 5 of us almost lynched him........
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Tue 4 Dec 2007, 20:59, 4 replies)