Jasper Carrot
This reminds me of a guy I was at uni with. Ryan, as he was called did have some beautiful stories to tell. All of which turned out to be complete lies, well otherwise I wouldn't be writing this.

Good old Ryan, his uncle was Jasper Carrot. I don't know why anyone would lie about this but he did, and how did we find out? Well about 10 years ago Mr Carrot's daughter became very unwell and caught the attention of the press. So we asked him, how was his cousin. Confused, he replied "She's fine, spoke to her last night" (while she was in hospital almost dying?)

Next beauty was his football trials with Aston Villa and Man Utd. Sweet, we need a good midfielder in our fabled five-a-side team, (well we needed someone to carry the rest of us, we were shit). So at an inter-campus tournament Ryan shows us his silky skills. He was so bad he made the girls teams look good, and I’m not trying to be sexist even.

And last was he came back from 'home' one weekend, in a bit of distress. His best mate had just been killed in a car crash and his mate's girlfriend had lost a leg (or two, I forget). Bugger. Condolences mate. Well the next weekend he pops back home, apparently his mates girlfriend needs to go trouser and shoe shopping and needs someone to come...

Why you'd claim Jasper Carrot is your uncle is still beyond me...
(CornishStanley can't post hyperlinks, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 16:20, Reply)

....
Legless?!
(Gomi No Sensei, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 16:13, 2 replies)

My Older Sister
was something of a bitch when my little sister and I were younger.

She would do all the usual things of farting under the covers and telling us it smelled of roses.... But her weirdest tale was that she wasn't our sister at all. She was in fact a terminator sent from the future and that my family had had memories implanted to make us believe she was one of us. This went on for about two years, and when asked to prove it by ripping off some flesh or something she would simply reply that "It doesn't grow back you know". And when asked to lift a car or perform some act of machine type strength she would rather cryptically answer "I'm not programmed that way, my cogs wont believe you". I never understood that.
( BlueHaze Chutney. All good., Fri 30 Nov 2007, 16:05, 1 reply)

A Time Bomb waiting to happen...
A good friend of mine got married in August (in a church unbelievably) to his pregnant girlfriend who I have only met once and the baby is due fairly soon.

His new wife is aware that he has been married before and that he has 2 children from his previous marriage which he sees alternate weekends, they are 11 and 13.

What his new wife doesn't know about are the 2 wives and 5 children he's had from his marriages previous to the one she knows about, and he's had another child out of wedlock. He doesn't see these any of these children or ex-wives or GF or pay maintenance.

His Boss and I call him Mr Supersperm.

One day those kids are going to want to know who their Daddy is....
( Tiggy the diver, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:54, 3 replies)

ahh the bullshitters at college....
Let me think...

* 1 girl claimed that she had broken her neck - but was still able to come to school as long as she wore a neck brace. the fact she would move her head didnt seem to bother her. God only knows where she got the brace from....

* The Same girl one came into college with bright yellow hair - (she usually had brown hair!) claiming it to be her "Natural colour!" don't think anyone wanted to check if the curtains matched the carpet.

* Same girl again - once came in wearing a denim dress open and tried to convince us all it was actually a waistcoat....! okay - its long - looks like a dress and well is a dress...!

* oh she had also been raped...yeah right!

* Different Girl - claimed to have lived in london and

1. was a top class (best in the land) cordon bleu chef.

2. she was an expert massure - she wasnt

3. She was a professional hair dresser - but sadly didnt know that you shouldnt bleach hair with real bleach...

* a g/f of one of my mates once said she was pregnant and needed money for a private abortion. I really dont think even to this day - you can get a private abortion for £200.
( Rev. Jesse. broke his ankle, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:42, Reply)

How to impress a lady.
The surest and safest way is to lie like a good 'un.

In my time I have convinced some poor lass or other that I am by turns;

A member of the Red Arrows
Named Armitage-Shanks and heir to the toilet empire
A member of the Zimbabwe Rugby Team
The drummer for Placebo
Australian (why that was considered a plus point I forget)
A television producer
Off to Iraq next week

I can say with absolute confidence that nothing, and I mean nothing, works as well as telling them you're a Doctor. Just don't try it with a nurse (you might catch something).
(Hampton St.Roker (has probably had your mum), Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:34, 1 reply)

Lies I have told
I wish to confess the following...

Lie 1: "I was always conscientious and studious at school".
Truth 1: Actually I was bored solid and in my A-level years I had just discovered sex and would mitch off and catch the bus to my dole scum boyfriend's bedroom for the afternoon.

Lie 2: "I'm just not ready for a serious relationship right now".
Truth 2: Sorry bloke from five or so years ago, it was actually that your penis was incredibly small but I felt like a bitch for making an issue of it. Size doesn't matter unless it's under about 3 inches when erect, and yours was less than that.

Lie 3: "Yes mum, I'm eating properly".
Truth 3: Well, I'm eating peanut butter straight out of the jar again because I can't even be arsed making toast for dinner. Sometimes I take vitamins.

Lie 4: "I like being single and independent".
Truth 4: Yeah, my own space is great, random no-strings action is great, but I had to go to the hospital the other day and I could not think of one single person that I wanted to put down as an emergency contact and that sucked.

Lie 5: "Don't worry about those noisy kids, neighbour!"
Truth 5: I hate those children. I have never heard noisier children. How can they possibly play ball against an interior wall at 2am? You need supernanny. Or paedophiles.


That feels better. My dark soul is cleaner.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:31, 9 replies)

I pulled a bullshitter...
Mind you, I was really rather drunk, so he didn't have to try very hard. We were in "Los Locos", a horrible little club near Covent Garden (you know the sort, sticky floors and sweaty walls). I was getting steadily hammered, standing on the dancefloor grinning like a loon. This huge bloke came up, chatted to me for a while, and said he was part of the England Rugby Squad. I drunkenly slurred my approval and gave him a quick snog (thankfully, I wasn't so drunk that I went home with him). In retrospect, he was a big, obese man-mountain, who didn't look like he could walk 500 yards without stopping for a breather. Not the physique needed for international rugby...
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:21, Reply)

I enjoy convincing people of things....
as it would seem do many of the other posters on this board.

The best is when you convince someone intelligent of something ridiculous.

For example, my finest moment was when I convinced my friend Cat that Al Capone's real first name was Colin.

Why this came up I can't remember, and why I decided Colin I have no idea.

She was happy to believe this though (I can keep a good straight, convincing face)

I let her in the truth shortly afterwards.

Some hours later by spoooky coincidence a question arose during a game of Trivial Pursuit (we were stoners, they'll do anything to pass some time) asking what was Al Capone's real first name.....
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:14, Reply)

The Shadow
I used to work with a man named Dave, who despite being a big fat nobody from Doncaster (imagine Max from Phoenix Nights, but much fatter), thought he was a bit of a ladies man. He would bore us endlessly about all the (fictional) women he had shagged and all the women that fancied him.

One day a load of us were down the pub and Dave was going on about his Casanova status back up north, "I love 'em and leave 'em me, they used to call me "The Shadow" because by the morning...I was gone", at which point an elderly gentleman at the bar who had overheard turned to Dave and said in a thick northern accent, "Y'sure it weren’t ‘cos you’re such a fat cunt y'blocked out the light?”
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:12, Reply)

The only gay in the village...
A lad I had the misfortune to meet at uni claimed to have slept with Colin Charvis and Gareth Thomas from the Welsh Rugby Union squad

He also claimed to have slept with over 500 men, yet in the 2 years we knew him he never so much as kissed another man

and... he loved Property Ladder, he couldn't peel his eyes from the TV whenever Sarah Beeny and her world beating rack were on the screen
(Bad_Dogg, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:09, 1 reply)

No, really I did!
In my third middle school, I was branded as the bullshitter-kid because of a bad choice of phrasing, intended only to lend drama to my story.

I slid down a steep valley floor, off a ledge type thing and into a river one weekend while playing in the woods near my dad's house. It was quite the lucky escape, as falling a good 10 or 15 feet, and landing on my back in the edge of a river swollen by rain was rather fekkin scary for a 10 year-old me.

The ledge thing at the bottom of the slope / side of the river was a vertical drop, eroded from that flaky iron-ore/flint type stuff. I mistakenly used the word 'cliff' in my playground description of events, leading to numerous cries of bullshit, as I had no injuries to show. (I was surprised myself that no bones were broken, I walked away with nothing more that a thorough soaking and presumably a mild dose of shock.)


My truly heroic childhood anecdote, scuppered by my childishly small vocabulary. I now realise it was technically a ridge, drop-off or ledge.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:07, Reply)

Gullible university friend
He was a fat short-arse who looked just like Penfold from Dangermouse. Owing to to him being naive and, frankly, a bit thick (music student), he was ridiculously easy to wind up and lie to. Things that spring to mind:

- We told him that Members of Parliament were so called because their members had to be of a certain length and girth. All MPs are measured to see if they can join. He asked a history student and she said it was true.
- He came to my room one day and I faked a diabetic episode when the ice-cream van came round, telling him I'd go into a coma unless he got me a 99. He believed this through most of the summer.
- Told him that he could catch Aids from himself if he tugged without a johnny. So he used them for his clammy shufflings for the whole three years.
- Told him that penis size is related directly to height. I'm 6'2" - he was sub 5'. He seemed quite ready to believe this.

On another occasion, I got my girlfriend of the time to flash her tits at him. He burst into tears. Surely not a typical reaction from a 20 year-old male to a pair of DDs.

He's a teacher at a secondary school now. He married a woman twice his age and weight who already had a ten-year-old kid.
(frankspencer, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:03, Reply)

Product Recall
When bored, we would see who could get the delightful, but thick and gullible young lady in our office to believe the biggest porky.

When I told her that Heinz Alphabetti Spaghetti had been recalled after they found BSE in it, she'd called her mum, her relatives, her friends, and Heinz Customer Services before I suggested that I may have been mistaken. It was just painful to watch.

Not sure about length, but it fills a 400 ml can.
(Hampton St.Roker (has probably had your mum), Fri 30 Nov 2007, 15:01, 3 replies)

Cool As Fridge
At Uni, we decided to see how gullible the masses were, so we started a rumour that the Inspiral Carpets were headlining the May Ball (come on, this was 1991).

A few weeks later, my mate came up to me all excited: "You'll never guess what! The Inspirals are headlining the May Ball!".

One withering look of contempt followed and the comment "I know. That's the rumour that you and I started. Congratulations."
(Steve The Monkey, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:54, Reply)

Je Suis Un Rock Star
I convinced my mate, who I'd known for about 6 years and who worked for Sony Music, that I was the lead singer in a band called Godman who had just been signed to Roadrunner Records. "We're a bit Slayer, a bit Napalm Death...yeah, the band heard me at a karaoke night and asked me to join because their lead singer had just left". He believed me purely because he'd heard of Roadrunner and thought that it was too obscure a label for me to be making it up.

A few years later, I thought about telling him that I was the DJ in Slipknot, but decided that it would be too painful.
(Steve The Monkey, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:51, 1 reply)

I managed to convince
a girl at school that if you fart when a bloke goes down on you, they will not only pass out but it has been known to kill.
She got 10 A* at GCSE
Smart people can be pretty thick.
( Madam Marlboro wonders if you've found her yet, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:40, Reply)

Lying is easy...
The talent lies in remembering what lies you have told!
(aroe_m0rre, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:35, Reply)

annoying ginger girl at school
Anything you'd done, she'd done. Any illness you'd had, she'd had it twenty times worse. So, exasperated by her pathetic and made-up life, I came back to school one September and proudly announced that I'd been to the island of Sans Serif for my summer hols.

Not only had she been there too, she'd shagged the barman in that little bistro by the quay. And he was ever so good.

After a few days of this I pointed out to her that Sans Serif is a type font. She didn't speak to me for ages afterwards but her life became noticeably more realistic that year.
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:28, 2 replies)

It's a bit of an animal
My so called friend lied to me when I was six telling me that the plastic codomesque wrapping around a pepperami was edible.

I didn't realise this was untrue until I was 12; although occasionally I would wonder why I did shrink wrapped butt cutlets*

* ref pooflake
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:27, 1 reply)

babies
I managed to convince my mate Helen that baby oil was made of babies.

Still not quite sure how I pulled that one off.
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:19, 1 reply)

I convinced my (at the time) 8 year old cousin I was a vampire
Because my teeth are a bit wonky and look somewhat like vampire fangs. Since he's related to me, it was then easy to convince him he was also a vampire, but needed to wait a few years for the fangs to grow.

The next day he got sent home from school for attempting to bite a girl's neck.
(Cuthbert Annihilator, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:13, 1 reply)

Liar or Drunk?
I’m not sure if this guy was a pathological liar or if it was a side effect of his alcoholism but his exploits around Teesside have become legendary. He’s Boro’s most famous tramp and drop-out, although, to be honest, I’m not sure if he’s dead or alive

He did time for manslaughter many years ago - he was lodging at a mates and was caught rogering his wife and in the ensuing scrap he cracked him over the head with the open fire poker. He was also in trouble in the late 70's although I don’t remember the exact details. I used to drink with an old boy in a local pub who went to school with him - he reckons that he was normal at school and early adult years but pretends to be daft for an easy life.

He used to regularly impress the magistrates with his tales of why he was drunk and disorderly and would usually be fined 1p less than the amount of money he had in his pocket.
Magistrate, "Mr xxxxxx we find you guilty".
Ronnie, "Right"
Magistrate, "how much money have you got”
Ronnie "29p"
Magistrate, "fined 28p"
He would like to tell the court to hurry up because he was on the first tee with the Chief Constable at 2.30pm (in his poshest voice) and he even turned up at court once in red silk ladies hot pants.

He once told me on a bus that Joan Collins was waiting for him in a room in the Dragonara (local hotel)

On another occasion I saw him sat on a bench in Albert Park with his feet placed neatly on a square foot of carpet he'd found somewhere. He was smoking and drinking and looking pleased with himself as usual and I asked him how he was. He said "I'll be a lot better when my furniture arrives."

It was great fun watching him molesting unsuspecting students, for the price of a ‘cup of tea’; not so good when he caught you for 50p. I remember seeing him near the Trooper. He had a small tree over his shoulder and was explaining that he was the new man in the Duchess of York's life.
(apollo36uk, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:13, 1 reply)

Thick Office Liar
My company is blessed with the presence of 'thick office liar' who is:

A) Crap at her job
B) A bit dim
C) A terrible liar

Some examples:

She bangs on about not needing to go to the gym or play any sport because she always walks to work and back, 20-25 minutes each way. Fair enough, however on the frequent occasions that she's more than 10 minutes late for work (2 or 3 times a week), she'll phone in to say that she's been waiting for a bus for ages and none have turned up.

Another time she rang in to say that halfway to the office she left her mobile at home and was going back to get it. Her mobile number was, of course, displayed on the phone here when she rang from it.

Having spent the past year applying for countless jobs and failing to get them (IT Managers know everything you dimwit), she constantly denies that she is looking for a job, despite claiming in her appraisal that she'd been offered a much better paid position but decided to stay with us to develop the role. On one occasion her manager, siting in the same office as her, noticed various job websites open on her desk, and suggested work hours were not best used looking for other positions. The reply came 'I'm not looking for jobs, they're pop-up spam, I'll close them now, and get on with counting paperclips' or whatever it is she does. Half an hour later she piped up 'What does OTE stand for?'

Pathological liar, or incredibly stupid?
(Lo Pan is in big trouble, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:10, Reply)

My mate....
My mate knows a guy who tells all the girls he meets that he has a massive 10.5 inch cock.


He's Japanese...
(Poo_Pipe_Pirate, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 14:00, Reply)

My mate eric befriends billionares
he went on a trip with his orchestra to china, whilst there he entred a super swanky bar full of extreemeley rich buisnessmen, whilst there he claims to have approached a billionare who said to him "you look like a musician".

Jumping on this oppertunity he then continued to convince him he was the manager of the red hot chilli peppers, Subsequentley was given a free limitless tab on this gentlmans credit card and continued to take over £50,000 pounds worth of very expensive champagne and cigars at the victims expense, He says he handed out free bottles to randomers of their selection from the menu and practically drowned himself in golden sparkling liquid brewed by monks sweat and blood over hundreds of years.
Im not really sure if hes lying or not, so weather this fits the question is confusing me.
(bonzos, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 13:50, Reply)

Derren Brown
A few years ago, when it was still about, I used to be a member of the Derren Brown forum, so I could get his tour dates quickly and what not.

Anyway, there was one member who I think was about 12/13. She was alright at first, but then began telling us about how she'd met Derren and he'd let her into his dressing room but she had to hide under a table so nobody would see her. Then I think she went on about how she was his secret lover and was living with him etc.

So naturally we printed off her little stories and made it into a book which one board member presented to Derren after a show.

P.S I've met him three times now and have STILL not been asked to hide under his table, BUMS.
( Lollylegs lite, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 13:19, 3 replies)

Cretinous, greasy, bull-shitting Mike
Went to Uni with a guy who claimed, amongst others

1) Had a strong right arm from the mace twirling antics of his Irish King descendants
2) His mother co-ran Microsoft with Bill Gates (this was the reason she was so rich and could afford to send Mike to Private school - nothing to do with the fact that she herself new what a vile cretin you really were and put you there so she didn't have to speak to you everyday
3) He could play guitar brilliantly and had helped Noel Gallagher write some tunes - this despite spending his entire student loan of a couple of grand on a Fender strat and matching Marshal amp and then making a sound like a kitten slowly being peeled
4) Claimed that his girlfriend (now wife God help her) loved the smell of stale fags, beer and sweat he constantly exuded.

Mike you really were a cretinous, greasy, bull shitting twat and none of us liked you - we just used your computer so we could play Doom.
(Bearos, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 13:18, 1 reply)

Ruth





A very pretty girl, very intelligent and a great career ahead of her.


Fucked it all up by telling lie after whopper after "Oh Christ, now the CIA are involved eh?" lie.


She was raped, or so she claimed. Then after telling us this terrible story, the next person to walk in the door was told (out of our hearing) that she'd been gang raped. We insisted that she tell the police and escorted her to the police station. She kept up the charade until we were almost at the door before admitting it was all a lie. Some bloke in a pub had copped off with her mate so she felt a bit left out and in need of some attention.

She made umpteen false claims against her colleagues - all of which were proved to be unfounded. She ended up being shunted from department to department as nobody was willing to work with her as a false claim for harassment would be their only reward.

She used to announce that she was madly in love with one of the group and that we were made for one another. A few days of great sex and a jolly fun time would follow before she declared it to be a dreadful mistake and we must never speak of it again. A week or two later and it would be someone else's turn.

To be honest, it was all rather sad. Her mother was a complete loon who forced Ruth to do a degree she hated and then married her off to a cunt* (he was from a 'proper' family don't you know) who abused her then abandoned her and their two toddlers for a work colleague of his.

The last time I saw her, about ten years ago now, we were sitting in the Summer sunshine outside a pub having an afternoon of drinking & skiving. She passed by, pushing a buggy with the two kids and accompanied by her harridan mother. We waved hello and she came over towards us only to be steered away by her mother. I can still see the sad look on her face as she glanced back at us all.

* The first time I ever met him was when Ruth brought him round to a party at our house. They retired to the spare room for the night and that was that. We were awoken in the wee hours by one of our female housemates who was trying to get the bastard out of her bed and his hands out of her underwear. He claimed to have been 'sleepwalking' but funnily managed to miss two other bedrooms and, oh yes, an entire floor of the house when taking his 'wrong turn' - the cunt.
(Fanta Menace Is tall enough to see over the fence, Fri 30 Nov 2007, 13:16, 1 reply)