I have never
ever fallen off my bike on the way to school, hit my face on the nasty asphalt, walked home in pain, crying and told my parents I got hit by a car to avoid embarrassment and the inevitability of them sending me to school anyway.

I certainly have never told lies to a police officer investigating a non-existent hit-and-run incident, making up a non-existent white car whose registration plate I never saw since it hit my back wheel and sped off before I looked up, catching only a glimpse of its colour.

Or indeed milked the (limited) sympathy of my classmates for a little while to avoid having to own up to being a clumsy overconfident idiot who was weaving over the pavement and standing up on the pedals all the time.

And neither have I ever kept that story up for twenty years, never admitting the truth to anyone except b3ta. No sirree.
(cypherspace is not a toaster, Thu 15 Sep 2011, 21:27, Reply)