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This is a question Lies that got out of control

Ever claimed you could speak a foreign language to impress friends, colleagues and/or get laid? Make a twat of yourself - and I couldn't possibly comment - saying you were the godson of the chairman of BP? Tell us how your porkies have caught up with you

(Thanks to augsav and Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic for the suggestions)

(, Thu 12 Aug 2010, 13:03)
Pages: Popular, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

At school I liked maths. It was the 80's, Buckaroo. It wasn't violently frowned upon to actually enjoy some learning. Apparently these days, with the kids an all, if you are caught listening, or reading or partaking in education of any form, you are murdered to death by hard kids from the rough estate. I digress...

I liked algebra in the first few years, and I was good at it.

My little brother was three years behind me and as academically gifted as a small beetroot. I was enlisted to help him out. Eventually, and to the suprise of everyone, he reached his GCSE exams.

During our years of tutorials, my brother and I had long conspired to spend almost no time studying, and dicked around in his room on anything but schoolwork. As a result, he was none the wiser, and I got play with his games. His GCSE maths loomed like a haunting metaphor. We didnt care, I'd got my GCSE's and was crusin' to leicester poly in the autumn, and he had'nt had to do any actual studying. However, something told me that we probably should figure out some shortcuts to getting Bro through some of these exams.

Algebra might as well have been Serbo Croat to my little brother, it was futile to even attempt to explain why maths seemed to use a lot of numbers. "letters are for that other subject arent they BigCoke? You know, the one with books? England studies whatdoyamacallit?"

So I told him the secret of Algebra. The secret formula you dont get to hear about until after you've left school. He was sworn to secrecy on his mothers eyes.

I told him this. a = 1. b = 2. c = 3 .... y = 25. z = 26.

Whenever one of the letters appeared in a question, simply swap them for the numbers and then just add, subtract, multiply whatever. I even showed him what the symbols meant on the calculator.

Result? Zero GCSE's and he is still a skint labourer 20 years later and I run a nice computer business that doesnt involve much rain and snow.

Backfired? Hell yes. He has had a life with a succession of beautiful women and blowjobs, whereas sometimes I can't get it up and have to improvise with pre-warmed dildo's.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 12:37, 2 replies)
I tell my family I love them!
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 12:30, 1 reply)
I told my friend
that Wal-Mart was started as a hippie co-op, and was originally called Up Against the Wall Mart.

A different friend convinced me that there was going to be a postmodernist conference called Inauthenticon.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 11:30, Reply)
I used to live in Scotland,
and I had sex with all the lonely Scottish girls who hardly ever got to visit their boyfriends in England.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 11:27, 9 replies)
Back in the 80s,
when I was about three or four years old, we lived on a tenement estate.
Everybody knew each other, and I was only a toddler, so the local kids hadn't had time to realise they hated me and wanted to bash me up.
My best friend Daniel lived next door, and our mums would lift us over the yard walls and let us play together. We weren't always supervised, but paedos hadn't been invented and kids could smoke and drink in those days, so it was totally fine.

One day, Daniel decided he was going indoors for something, and told me to wait. I sat on his tricycle and waited.

But I needed a wee.

I didn't want to just go into their house, because that would have been rude, and besides, my mum had said that other people's toilets were dirty and I was to always ask her or my dad to hold me above the seat while I peed. This was a rule that, when verbalised very loudly by me, once caused deep offence when I needed to 'go' at my paternal grandmother's house. So, that was not going to happen.

I really needed to wee.

I didn't want to just leave and go for a wee, because I was supposed to always tell Daniel's mum when I wanted to go, so that she could lift me over the yard walls for my mum to take me in.
What should I do? I should take charge, leave by the gate, walk along the street and go to my own toilet, that's what I should do.

By now, I was desperate for a wee.

So, I lifted up my leg to get off the tricycle.
And pissed all over Daniel's seat.
I ran out of the gate, around the yard, through our gate, into the bathroom, hid my drawers in the washing basket (which, incidentally, looked exactly like a snake-charmer's basket) and sat in the living room.

"How did you get home?"
"Climbed over the wall."
"You can't reach."
"Daniel helped me"
"What about the other wall?" (there was a gap between the two yards)
"Well for that bit, I walked around and came through the gate."
"But you know you should always get Sandra to pass you over to me, or to call me. You can't go outside the yards."
"Sorry, but I needed to wee."
She was not convinced, but it was left. Phew. We watched Where There's Life or something else with a good theme tune, and my mum went about her business. I heard talking. "Alright, thanks Sandra. T'rah!"
Shit! Ok, now is when I have to come clean. I've lied enough.

"Roota. Did you wee on Daniel's bike?"
"Why is there wee on Daniel's bike? And why are your wet knicks in the washing basket?" (I thought of snake charmers again.)
"Well, I pushed a button in the wall, and all water game down from the first landing, and it went on Daniel's bike, and then I sat on it and my knicks..."
"Roota, stop telling lies. You know that lies are naughty. Weeing on Daniel's bike was not naughty, but all of those lies were very very naughty. Next time, try owning up, and not trying to lie your way out of it. Ok?"

the moral of the story?
Two weeks later I did NOT let Daniel push me around in the doll's pram, fall out and get a lump on my head. I actually pushed ANOTHER button in the wall, and the brick came out and hit me. Truth.
I have never learnt.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 11:17, Reply)
they're the best of all the animals!!!
I love horses!!
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 11:12, Reply)
I don't know if we were funny or just fucked up.
I was in a weird place in my life, had a fucked up fiancee with whom I stayed at her digs at college. (I had dreads, so imitating a student waasn't all that hard.)
One of her housemates was Norwegian, (Ida, pronounced EEda*) lovely girl I stayed friends with for many years. But when we first met, I played up big time with her naievity (spl). Thus shortbread became longbread and so on. The only other chap in the house was John. We spent most of our time playing pool or raiding the local industrial estates for skip booty.
One day we came up trumps, and came back with a huge haul of electrical wonders, frequency generators, a giant machine of dials and wheels that would have looked at home on any manifestation of the USS Enterprise. We salvaged many marvelous parts, a lot of which went into making the most realistic ufo I've ever created. Flashing and spinning, the lot, but I digress.
We piled up a load of ominous looking parts outside Ida's room, to tell her when she came back we were going to set up a pirate radio station in her room as it was the highest and would give best reception to the other students.
She was rather upset, but when she found out she could be a DJ in her own room we had more leeway. As we created this faux desk for her, the lie continued, now she was even telling friends of our new venture.
As memory serves, we ended up making up some crap about not being able to get it working, thus the lie went to bed for ever.

*Not as good as her pronunciation of zoo animals which I much prefer to the originals; Hippa-pot-tarmus being my favorite.

Oh dear, I seem to have exeeded my word count. Sorry if I dragged you through the stream of consciousness a bit there. You probably had to be there etc.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 11:06, 2 replies)
weve all been there right...?
Are you under the influence of any drugs or alcohol?

No officer.. i was just walking by...
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 10:49, Reply)
I got made redundant....
I was made redundant last year from quite a high grade nursing position that I had lied through the interview to get, and although i was a little bit pissed off with it all, i went into work all happy with brilliant exciting lies that ive now got the time to go travelling again, and that my first stop was going to be iceland, i made out i was going to be gone for a few months, to hopefully go see the aurora lights, whales, volcanoes etc...

on my last day the remaining staff sent me a leaving card ''sorry youre leaving, I hope iceland enjoys you as much as we did bla bla bla''

bit of a funny card gesture I thought to myself.... I found out last week that the rumour (lie) had gotten round that i was going to WORK at iceland.. the frozen supermarket. I did wonder why i got the head tilting looks of ''moneys going to be tight for you love, stacking shelves'' karma i guess...
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 10:43, Reply)
I worked in the same place as this fella (though long after he had gone).

Strange individual...His ex-workmates tell of pathological fibs on a daily basis.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 10:12, 5 replies)
Mockney repost
I panic when I have to talk to anyone that doesn't work in an office, but particularly with tradespeople.

So for some reason I'll always change my normal accent (something between Boris Johnson and Oscar Wilde) for an Essex/cockney effort -
"Blaady freezin' innit? - to demonstrate that I am just like them, and could probably fit the kitchen/clean the chimney/attach a shelf myself if I wasn't so damned busy duckin and divin makin a few quid here and there.

This came undone the other day [edit: other year] when someone came round to fix the boiler and I accidentally got the wrong voice and spoke in Australian.

"Hi, I've come to look at the boiler".
"Noice one! Cam on in, mate! Can I getcha a cap of tea?"

Even in my own ears it sounded bad, but I had to keep it up all the time he was there as it was too late to change back to my normal voice.

"Oi dunno mate, it just sorrta stopped wurkin'!"
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 9:49, 9 replies)
More of a lie of omission
We tend to prefer to go to nude beaches, and a friend had made the fairly momentous decision to come with us for the first time. Despite being 28, some tricky circumstances meant she was living back with her mum. She told Mother Dearest that she was going to the beach with us, but omitted the crucial part. Fair enough, no reason she should need to know, and her mum (a lovely lady by the way) said "ok, I'm out for the day with my friend", and off everyone went.

So we're on the beach, Studland for anyone that's been (why do nude beaches have the oddest names? There's another call Slapton Sands), as naked as you would expect. Me and Mrs Sammy are sitting chatting, and our friend is in the sea. The next thing we know, she's talking to two fully dressed people. Yep, it was her mum. The naked part of Studland is in the middle of what is a very long beach, and she and her friend had got off the chain ferry at the other end, and decided to walk all the way to the village. They hadn't been too phased by all the naked people, until she had said to her friend "That girl there could do with getting out in the sun more; she's white as an......oh, it's Leanne!).

Anyway, it wasn't a big deal or a problem; Leanne was somewhat mortified, but not enough to stop her coming along again, and her mum thought it very funny. Now, when someone is a bit nervous of taking their clothes off for the first time, we can say "Well, it can't be as bad for you as it was for Leanne....."
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 9:48, 8 replies)
Camberley 1989
We'd got a pass out into town, and ignoring the usual "pubs out of bounds" list, 6 of us made our way into the fleshpit that was 1980's Camberley.

Every pub in that town had this on the door: "NO DOGS. NO GYPSIES. NO SQUADDIES." All that was, except one. The busty landlady at The Cambridge welcomed us in. Her sons were at Aldershot, and her father had been at Pirbright, so she knew we just wanted some ale, some grub, and a shag. We didn't rule out a fight, but 1-3 were more important.

So, we bang a few pints down, and then need somewhere to go. The landlady said there was a shit club next door with women of the easy kind, and if the bouncers gave us any trouble, we were to tell them we were fitting double glazing at the Cambridge.

So off we trots, and we get the usuall conversation: "Sorry lads... no squaddies". "We are not squaddies - we're fitting double glazing at the Cambridge". "Oh, ok... come in then to this palace of mediocrity and have a pint and a boogie".

So we gets in. We chats up, we flirts, we move in on some tail, and more importantly we get some big drinking in.

One of our group is more pissed than ever when he walks past a bouncer who starts to ask him about the styles and number of windows being fitted at the Cambridge. To which he replies "How the fuck should I know... I blow tanks up".

There was a delay of about 5 minutes, before a group of locals and bouncers were intent on kicking the shit out of us. They did quite a good job too. Although not too bad that it stopped us from getting a pizza on the way back to barracks.

I did hear that the Irish Rangers hit town on Saturday night and totally trashed it from head to toe.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 8:27, 4 replies)
I'm straight, and don't fancy Cheryl Cole

J McElderrey
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 8:19, 1 reply)
Giving a false statement to the cops and insurance fraud
Back when I was 18 I was still living with my mum so I spent a lot of time hanging out at my friend's flat after school. One friday afternoon I hung out for a few hours, leaving my bag outside on a couch. When I went to leave, it had been stolen. I don't remember exactly what I had in there, but I remember that I lost a decent jacket, a discman and a whole bunch of CDs.

Now here's where the lies begin. Rather than fess up that I was an idiot when I got home, I instead told Mum that I'd been mugged by a couple of dudes. She then insisted on taking me to the cop shop, where I spent about an hour talking to a policeman who wrote down every word of the bullshit I spewed forth. I nearly lost it when he told me that they had surveillance cameras in the area in which I told them I'd been mugged, but, somehow, my lie didn't fall through.

Nothing ever came of it of course, although Mum, seeing an opportunity, told me to say I had a digital camera in there too so she could claim it on the insurance (this was back when they cost at least a grand or so cuz they were fairly new). In a further miracle, we somehow got away with this, even though I didn't have a box or a charger or anything.

I still feel guilty about this sometimes.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 8:08, Reply)
Not getting laid
Way back when, after discovering luvverly sexy bits for the first time in my late teens, I thought I would give that another go. Met a young squire at a local during lunch and chatted nicely for a while, but then I had to go. He asked me if I ate meat, to which I answered in the affirmative. He invited me back to his place for dinner. Me thinking - friendly, share the same interests, he cooks and accessorises. I'm in!!

Turned up looking great and on the table sat this huge roast. I was like, "um, sorry, but I'm a vegetarian". He said, "but you told me you ate meat". I said "Yeah I do, wanna skip dinner?". He said, "No thanks, I'm gay".
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 4:15, 4 replies)
First,the truth behind the lie.
In 1990, my family went on a holiday to the south of France with EuroCamp. The grounds we were on had a decent pool, where actual hot women, where my 6 11 1/2 /12th (I turned 7 the day we left the campsite) and friend of a roundabout age (Hello Rory,if you're reading this! Gaz me, if you're on here.) got flashed by two foreign girls, very good looking and a bit older than we were.

Now the lie: When I went into secondary school, while trying to show off to the other lads in my class who didn't know me, tried to extend this story beyond what it essentially was and got stung.

I didn't say boo for three years after that.*

*(Wish I was fucking joking. :-( )
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 3:22, 2 replies)
I told my co workers that I had AIDS. Next day at work there were thousands of get well cards on my desk and "Get well soon" balloons. Next thing I knew I got promoted as the bosses assistant manager. I held a meeting later that day and told the whoole company that I didn't have AIDS..

Now I'm unemployed!!
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 2:44, 2 replies)
I told them I was diabetic because
The cookies she made looked awful. Now I'm not ever allowed to eat sweets for they fear I'll die. I should've just politely declined.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 2:30, 1 reply)
Lies that got out of control?
Lets start at Genesis....

(Not the band)
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 1:56, 3 replies)
Who Are You In my ARSE

(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 1:28, 2 replies)
Jag knullade Ingefära Fuhrer...
... i Sverige
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 0:54, 3 replies)
I'm really quite indifferent to horses.

Hoofy bastards.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 0:38, Reply)
Dont ever put the wrong detergent
In the washing machine.
That lye gets way out of control.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 0:35, Reply)
It into some rough trim.
Then it took three strokes to get it near the hole, by then I was already over.

Why does sex seem so much like golf?
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 0:30, Reply)
I created the online identity of a 40 year old married man
so I could fit in. I couldn't meet anyone in person, because they'd realise I was a bisexual teenage girl.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 0:18, Reply)
I've perpetuated a lie on the internet
that I'm actually a girl when everyone knows there are no girls on the internet. Those who have met me have so far been fooled by the top stuffed with socks.
(, Fri 13 Aug 2010, 0:06, 11 replies)

This question is now closed.

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