Bindun?
J*** admitted in the pub last night that his girlfriend finds poop-games a tremendous turn-on.

He is single.

Does that make him a scatological liar?
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 10:56, 2 replies)

Did you know...
That there's a drug called Lexapro that's sweeping the celebs at the moment. When taken in the correct quantities, It's meant to combine the hallucinagetic qualities of acid with the pure stonk-on power of Viagra? But it is highly addictive.

Keep it to yourself.

On the Street it's called 'Ray' and it's already being mentioned in songs like 'Rehab':

'I'd rather be at home with Ray'

...and the Hoosiers:

'I'm starting to worry about Ray'.

Even their song 'Goodbye Mr A' is a secret reference...

You heard it here first.

Edit: This is total unadulterated bollocks that I just made up. However, I think it contains just the right amount of truth combined with lack of proof to get you a drink in the pub when you amaze your friends with your 'expert' knowledge.

Please spread it around and see how many rumours you can start.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 6 Dec 2007, 10:41, 2 replies)

Film studio publicity departments
Just in general, gloriously self-promoting their latest blockbuster as 'the most action packed film of the year', or 'fast, furious and funny', or 'the funniest film you'll see all year'. Etc.

Or splicing trailers in a way that the film in question looks AMAZING, but after you've sat through 2 hours you realise that the best bits were in the trailer, and the rest of the film was a pile of arse toffee.

It just annoys me.

Apologies for lack of length. Or humour. Late night last night.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 6 Dec 2007, 10:24, 1 reply)

Just a thought but....
Why are a lot of men pathological liars about nights out with the boys. I've never had this problem myself due to having fairly open relationships but I've noticed this in my friends boyfriends.


They say that they are going to be home at a certain time that night when they know damn well they wont be home anywhere near it.

They will never admit to how much they've drunk that evening. Always saying it was just a couple of pints when it cleary wasn't.

These two aspects of mens inability to tell you the truth I have never understood.
( girlinthehole, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 9:48, 9 replies)

Billy Bullshit
We have a mate who is a pathological bullshitter who lives in his own little world. He has been obsessed with a girl in our group for ten years who really, really doesn't fancy him yet he is convinced she does. He even went so far as to say that, whilst sharing a floor with others on two consequetive new year's mornings after crashing out the night before, she has deliberately treated him to a show of her strumming the furry banjo. I have yet to tell her he said this...
He also says he is a real lothario and always pulls when he is not out with us. We find this hard to believe as he is short, fat, has the sort of lack of facial hair that you would associate with a hormone defficiency and his nickname in the town(which he is unaware of) is Huxley (after the pig). One night I decided to put his keen eye for the ladies to the test and relied on him to point out any girls who were ineterested in me so I could chat them up. Cue me making an arse of myself at least 5 times with women who would rather stick pins in their legs than talk to me. One of them even burned me with her cigarette!
He really is deranged.
Length? Can't be very long as he always goes in the trap in the gents
(give it six weeks and it might clear up would like to butter your muffin, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 9:42, 1 reply)

The truly pathological
Paul Wolfowitz and Richard Perle
(Redemption blamed it on the Bossa Nova since, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 8:00, Reply)

I worked for one day
With a guy that claimed to have been in a fight with 12 chavs (or neds, depending on your neck of the woods) and that one of them had stabbed him in the neck with a screwdriver. The next day, upon requesting that he present the wound he replied 'oh no it's healed up now.'

Apparently he also swore that after being ditched on a work night out, he was picked up buy a milf who took him back to her house and rattled him while her husband and children were in the next room.

Maybe you're thinking he was just the perfect lovechild of Rambo, Bruce Willis and a bag of raw sexual energy, but I must stress the fact he was, in reality, a fat little ginger riot with a flat face.
(shinobiboabi, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 7:54, 1 reply)

For students
It's not plagiarism if you reference what you have ripped off from elsewhere. Even if 100% of the assignment consists of quotes from other sources and none of your own work - so long as they are referenced you will get away with it. You might not get a great mark, it's true, but you sure won't be accused of plagiarism.
(Seance Trumpet has got no beef with a man enjoying a croissant, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 7:15, Reply)

not sure if this counts
But my old mum was a Bizarre liar...

She told my sister she'd made my dad colour blind by throwing a crayon at him when she was a baby...

She told us (me and my lil sis) that our brothers were half brothers, as one looked like her (sis) the other looked like me...as you can imagine, when our dad found out that we referred to our bro's as our half bro's, he went pretty mental!

I believed her til I was about 12 that sausages were made out of baby birds...I still have issues with 'meat' (not such a bad thing really!)

and terrorised my lil sis with some pig trotters by making them 'dance' along the kitchen table whilst being clutched in her hands, (making fake piggie voices) "la la la la la...I'm a piggie foot and I'm doing a little dance...look at my tendons they still work! Trot trot trot! Trot trot trot! (sings horribly out of tune) la la la la la!!! see the little piggie feet dance along....oooh! It wants to dance up your arm!!!!
And then going mental when we refused to eat...

(same situation with jelly, when she used to sit there in front of us, saying, 'that's made out of boiled cow bones'...and then going into great detail about how they were killed and then ripped apart ((this, from the woman who loved nothing more than filling her face with whitebait (((heads on)))or winkles (mmm...that one's got a nice bit of grit in it yum yum!)

She was a psycho freak and I only come on B3TA so I can post random messages safe in the knowledge they'll be ignored...it's my kind of weird therapy!!

HOWEVER! I am very proud of the fact that I convinced my eldest son's dad (when I was a baby of 16) that flying carpets did exist (he'd not heard of them before) and that I could get us one.

Not a pathological liar (me) just mischevious!!
( curvylittlegoth heard the voices in your head on, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 0:07, 3 replies)

Two Shits
I went to Basrah, bottom end of Iraq in 2003 to support the IT of the military out there. 6 month of easy work. Another company provided half the staff for the task as did ours. One of their lads was a little blonde hair skinny guy, and I cant remember his real name. Forever he'll be known as "Two Shits". People (Officers and all) used to ring the help desk specifically asking for Two shits, and he thought it was a complement. The man was an outright boaster. You had one shit, he's top it with two, thats how he got his name. You'd been to Tenerife, he'd been to Twelverife.
Examples - On an IED awareness briefing, the Bomb disposal expert described how the previous week they had disarmed a 300lb set up. Two Shits had done a 500lb a year before and told the guy and the whole room that. He's worked in the SAS ( Haven't they all) but knew no names. Martial arts expert, until we set him up against a karate black belt and he cried off. He was seeing a girl back in the UK and explained his job in Iraq ( Help desk support) as Special Ops. His last one, was getting drunk one night, stealing the sections 6 wheel tractor motor and driving it into a tent. When the military police arrested him, he insisted he was an under cover colonel and they should release him or they would all loose their jobs. 4 hours later, he was on the flight home.

Length - 12 hours via Cyprus to Brize in the back of a Herc.
( ratman, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 23:20, Reply)

my first (and only) published work...
I went to a school that had a kid's newspaper delivered daily... and in there was an "agony aunt" section. It provided us with much amusement.

I got bored one day and penned a little letter and sent it off.. the next week it was printed. I was overjoyed.

"Dear Sally,
I'm 13 years old now, and many of my friends have already got their periods. Some of them have been having them for 2 years!
I feel stupid asking this, but is there anything wrong with me?

Yours sincerely,

Micheal"
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Wed 5 Dec 2007, 22:13, 6 replies)

I went to college with a guy
called Steven Spriggins, which is bad enough, but he used to go around claiming he had directed "Raiders of the Lost Ark".

He was 17 at the time, and the film had been out for 6 years.
(rogerzilla, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 21:27, Reply)

Stories
I've always had my suspicions that the tales told in grumble mags may not be 100% true. Good job I only buy 'em for the pictures eh ?
(kitescreech still here, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 20:09, 2 replies)

Beardo the Weirdo
Lets call this guy Lyle Weardsley - not his true name but close enough for anyone who may have met him feel a twinge of paranoia.
I worked with this fella for a few years and he was one of those people who everyone takes to immediately. He was always the life of the party - he always had something witty to say, an interesting story to tell, people tended to gravitate to him and initial impression was of a top fellow.

It was only after a few months that the veneer wore off - because basically Lyle was a complete liar.

He lied about absolutely everything, but he was a very skillful and accomplished liar, the first inkling that you got was when one of the "you'll never beleive what happened to me once" stories you'd told him came back respun with him as the hero/villain/victim/stud* *delete as appropriate. It wouldn't be the first time that your own history would be rewritten into his own life-come-urban-myth.

Once Lyle had been rumbled and called out, he turned into a very nasty piece of work who had you wondering if you'd find all the tyres on your motor slashed, or petrol being poured through your letter box. When called out on a lie, he'd "go Barlow" with his neck becoming a mass of stretched tendons not unlike the old crone from coronation street - He played people off against each other by using subtle but nasty lies and went apeshit when confronted about his activities.

I ended up managing this guy and it was like handling sweaty dynamite, I'm pleased to say that I moved on and eventually managed to distance myself from this crazy - I'm delighted to report that I've not seen the nutball in several years now. - He was last spotted trying to persuade a terminally ill rich girl that he was deeply in love with her and that they should get married asap....
(pistonbroke, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 19:54, 1 reply)

Not so much Pathological as stupid
My ex husband. Well, the truth be told (a phrase he couldn't quite get his head around) he lived in a parallel dimension to our own. A dimension where the wildly unrealistic, truly terrifying and frankly absurd scenarios happened all the time.

I liked to call it "The I-Lie Zone"

He lied about EVERYTHING. My personal top 3 favourites on the bullshit monitor are:

In at number 3 - As he fell through the front door at 3.00 in the morning, covered in vomit and with what can only be described as a cokebleed running from his not inconsiderable nostrils his opening statement was " Sorry, I had to finish a wall off and it took longer than I thought" (He was a plasterer - in more ways than one)

Number 2 - After a particularly heavy night, I overheard him and his best mate talking about the women they'd pulled that evening. When I confronted him about what I heard (Actually I opened the bathroom window and screamed "I CAN HEAR YOOU" out of it) he told me that he'd observed the bathroom light going on and "said it to wind you up babe, I knew you were listening" I was 6 months preganant at the time.

Number 1 - Ooh this is a doozy. He had an endearing habit of being late for everything, family parties, weddings, funerals, sex, you name it he'd show up late and drunk/coked out of his tits. He was late for my grandshires' funeral. His excuse/lie? "I was in a terrible car accident (car looked fine) I nearly died (He looked fine) I saw a woman burned to a crisp, she was running up and down the motorway, on fire, until she was hit by a car..It's been a terrible morning.." He's crying by now, so utterly convinced by his own lie. He forgot that the guy he was out drinking with that morning was my dad's mate. He told dad the truth 3 weeks later. The truth? Ex drank 3 whiskeys, went to toilet and came out quite "animated", then went upstairs with the landlady for an hour - hence missing the beginning of his wife's grandparent's funeral.

Ah well, it was all a long time ago. It turned out that in the end I was the liar - I promised to stay with him until death did us part.

Apologies for length - but fuck me the man lied like a rug.
( my_cat_has_no_shoes meh meh meh MEH MEH, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 19:05, 6 replies)

The Freaky Union Bloke
Reading a story about Catman Joe, i was reminded of an equally strange bloke.

Now, i've been attending the Student's Union in yon Dundonia for years. Whilst i am in my last year at the fair establishment, i can backdate my attendance at least 6 years.

Anyhoo, there's always a select few you know will be at the Union on certain night or nights, or indeed every night. Freaky Union Bloke was one such man.

Now, he was late 40's probably early 50's. Dressed... studently. You know, followed fashion to a certain degree, was 'hip' and 'with it', down with the kids, if you will. Well, he was there every night.

Now, a certain legendary status will build up around certain figures. And people would ask him;

"Mate, why are you here?"

And his standard response was:

"Well, my daughter has cancer and i'm at the University researching treatments for cancer."

*stifles laugh*

Now, it's nearly plausible because Dundee Uni has the Cancer Research building which is at the forefront, globally, for cancer research. Fair enough.

But no mate, you're here to perv. We know, we see you leering and leching. Which, after 5 years you'd presume was true. I recently started reattending the union after a brief hiatus.

It would appear Freaky Union Bloke is gone. I thought "Oh, must've been chucked out finally". How wrong i was.

I asked one of the staff members who had an equally long track record.

Yeah, and apparently the man was researching. He researched from 9-5 every day for over 6 years. Worse still, he'd run out of time and his daughter died of some form of incurable cancer.

Worse still, he topped himself. Jumped from the Tay Road Bridge early one morning.

And that story correlated. I realised what a cunt i'd been - moral is, don't immediately distrust people who tell you whoppers.
(Schumann makes awesome quiches., Wed 5 Dec 2007, 18:48, 1 reply)

Tall tales
I think in every circle of friends there is always that one guy/girl that bends the truth or tells out right lies. Ours is a guy called Steve. We all did very different subjects at college all those years ago. Steve’s choice was business studies. Ive never been able to work out exactly what it is that he did but he assured us it was complex. Stemming from his “deep” knowledge of business, the runnings of and managing he told us how he had been asked to manage a new nightclub in London. The description of which sounded very like the Electric Ballroom in Camden which is just down the road from me. He had a flat above the club, the works.

This was back in the day when Limp Bizkit were considered good and everyone was listening to them. Even I have to confess to owning a CD. Anyway, who did our dear Steve say was going to be the opening band? That’s right, Limp Bizkit. Apparently he had personal conversations with Fred Durst over the phone, sorting out the details. This was all at the grand age of 17.

Something told me that might have been a bit of a fabrication.

Its not the only outright lie he told us. I still don’t know why he did it to be honest. Meh.

Length? Well it had a huge dancefloor..
(Grove is the collector of WOO and hoarder of YAY, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 17:32, Reply)

One of my flatmates.
Is a massive liar. He claims he has never seen an episode of only fools and horses.
How is that possible? it must be bullshit.
( Slippery Mick ‏, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 17:24, 14 replies)

bold claims
A friend of mine would tell people straight faced he a had a nobel prize in economics and was Time magazines man of the year, which is funny with him being a hairy, beardy burzum-lover.

A few pals also spread a rumour in uni that I had gone out with Avril Lavigne only to be dumped when she got famous. People actually seemed to believe it. I never confirmed or denied the rumours which probably added to the speculation.
(weirzbowski, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 16:58, Reply)

Liars...
Ah yes, the pathalogical liar:

The guy at school with the built up shoe who claimed to have lost his virginity before the rest of the year, and was mightily sketchy about the more intimate and practical details...

An aquaintance from school who has, in no particular order, been UK downhill mountain bike champion on a £1,500 mountain bike and been sponsored by Orange, "before they were well known," been run over by Arnold Schwartzneger on roller blades whilst in California on holiday and been personal friends of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and received telephone calls on his birthday.
(LC, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 16:51, 2 replies)

Back in the day
a mate of mine said he wasn't allowed out because a man and a woman had been 'raked' on his road.
The story really came to life when he informed me of the chilling 'bloody rake marks' that had striped his quiet cul-de-sac.
His ignorance of sexual violence terminology gave the game away slightly.
(RiderOfRohan high:mid:low, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 16:50, Reply)

I've got a couple...
There were 2 guys I met at university.

1. The first guy (H****) lived with some mates of mine whose house I used to frequent. He told the most amazing lies (that made one gasp and stretch ones eyes!). They were mostly about the adventures/exploits of his apparently super-human dad.

H**** claimed that his dad owned a sailing boat that he kept on a lake somewhere. One day his dad went out to do some fishing on the lake when a storm blew in. A bolt of lightning hit the mast and travelled down it. Holding onto the mast at the time, his dad channelled the bolt of lightning and shot it out of his fingertips into the water! His dad was apparently unscathed by this ordeal... H**** also claimed that his dad was a doctor (we never had this confirmed) and worked in A & E. One night a man walked in with an axe buried deep in his skull and asked H****'s dad to remove it! Hmmm...

2. The second liar, who we shall call Craig (for that was his name) was assigned to me as a lab partner in the first year of uni. On the first day of meeting him he claimed that:

a) he had blown up his Chemistry classroom with his A-level course work experiment. Windows broken, walls demolished, the works!

b) he owned a Renault Clio (fair enuff) and had crashed it into a wall at 70mph while being chased by the police. He emerged from the wreckage unscathed and the police were so relieved that they let him off whatever it was they were chasing him for.

c) he won some kind of racing series in his Renault Clio, with a (wait for it...) prize of £100,000. Yes that's one hundred thousand of your English pounds. He then proceeded to spend this money on (wait for it part 2...) a new engine for his Renault Clio! Yes, he was a complete and utter mong.

*** Insert obligatory length joke***

P.S. Oh and *pop* goes my b3ta cherry!
(har mar supermarket, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 16:49, 2 replies)

It's ME!

I’m the banker from Deal or No Deal…

I was the original ‘Charlie’ in Charlie’s Angels

I was Dr Claw in Inspector Gadget (cartoon version)

And I played Maris in Frasier…and ‘er indoors in Minder…

But Anyhoo…If you think I’m a liar, what about Diana Ross?

I’m pretty sure she had me in mind all those years ago when she sang:

“There ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from you…”

So where the fuck is she? It's been fucking ages! Not that I particularly want to see her or anything (she doesn’t exactly ‘pump my nads’ and she’s about 230 years old) but still…I bet she’s at the bleeding ‘big-hairdressers? Mountains and rivers my shiny arse!
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 5 Dec 2007, 16:38, 13 replies)

It’s not big and it’s not clever…


But when I was 19 I once drank an entire Litre bottle of vodka in about 1 hour.

Only as it happens…I didn’t

One previous night my dad – the man from whom I have inherited my happy ‘alco-ma-holism’ decided to half-inch a few glasses of vodka from my private stash. To cover his shame he topped it up with water. Next day he did the same….and the next…and the next….after a couple more days he’d decided there was no point in watering the vodka down any more (how thoughtful) so he quaffed the lot and filled it up with water. Imagine my surprise!

Oh, and one time when I was about 6 years old my mum took me to Sainsburys, gave me a handful of olives, told me they were grapes and chuckled as I chomped the lot down.

Laugh? I nearly yacked all over the Deli counter.

Good times.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 5 Dec 2007, 16:09, 6 replies)

This lesbian at school
When I was at school there was a girl who lied about everything. She was an attention seeking little bitch. Every week she'd come into school with a new injury. Broken collar bone, Sprained ankle, Fractured wrist etc.. all of which healed remarkably quickly as she was bandage/castless a few days later.This backfired on her in later life, as all the trips to the doctors and all the lies to the school nurse and everything meant that the RAF wouldn't accept her because she was too injury prone. She was seriously deranged... she'd drink lynx (as in the deoderant) just to say she could... she'd act like a 5 year old... its no wonder everyone hated her. I wont hold the fact she was a lesbian against her cos she did have a rather hot gf who later turned out to be straight. Bumped into her a few days ago. Shaved head with a streak of purple hair... looking a complete fuckwit... and still telling the lies that her mum has won the lottery.... yep that explains why she lives in a council flat eh?


Length? My mate lost his virginity to her when she was still in her 'bi phase'... maybe it was lack of length that turned her?
(urbanbushmonkey, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 15:39, Reply)

Pat pat, the patronising twat
In my university halls in the late 80s, there was one guy, Tom, who was the most patronising git I've ever met. But he was also an obscene liar.

1. He was in a coma for three months after a motorcycle accident. The reason he took a year off. Also the reason he came into my room one evening trying to put on a sock while standing, saying "after the accident, the balance has gone on one side" and repeatedly falling over.

2. Black belt in karate, and mark in passport because of it. This must be an old standby for liars. I up my karate grade when I lie about it, I don't tell people I have a death mark from the government.

3. Was working as a bicycle courier over the summer. Quite innocuous, but I'm convinced this was a lie, too. He also claimed to have spent an obscene amount on his pushbike, but it was destroyed or something, and couldn't see it.

4. Got signed to a record deal. We'd heard some of his recordings. My good god. No one would sign that guy. Surely. We never saw the contract, and the day he told me and my flat mates this was the last time we saw him. Boo.

Goes off to check him out on facebook. I bet he'd rich with a stunning wife. He always was pulling pretty hot chicks.
(trevorthecat, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 15:37, Reply)

Evilscary reminds me...
My friend E told us that his middle name was Jesus. It was pointed out to him that his middle initial was "M".

"Yes", he said. "It's a silent M".

Fair enough, I suppose.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 15:32, 8 replies)

Facebook and other online 'places'
I have just received this unsolicited email and I can quite honestly say I've not laughed so much all week...


"Hiya, I just wondered if you'd be interested in threeway sex with me and my GF - we're pretty adventurous and would like to try it. I used to go climbing as well. So you know - we'd have something to chat about in between sets x"


Pathological liar? Maybe....
Chancer? Certainly.





Length? I'll never find out.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 15:25, 12 replies)

I was an odd and easily bored child
When I was in primary school I convinced one of my 'best' friends that I was in fact a child-agent, spying and reporting back all sorts of interesting things.

I pointed out that the sheer unbelievability of this was the very reason I was employed by the government, and why I wasn't found out. I even used to speak to my bosses through a tiny microphone that looked incredibly similar to all the other stones behind the playground, and once the government wrote to her to ask her to keep her mouth shut about it (and quite expensive paper I'll have you know!).

One of our other friends told her it was complete bollocks, and she seemed to believe her everytime...right up until she spoke to me again when I'd once more convince her it was true. It's bizarre that she believed me for so long, but I've always had a dubious ability to convince people of unlikely things.

I finally called it quits and phased the whole thing out when she went on a recon mission with me once, I told her that we knew the last name and house number of the guy we were after...but not street name or other handy information. We spent most of a weekend walking systematically around the area knocking on the right number of every street and asking if Mr. X was home.

She never once questioned how top secret this investigation could be if we were able to go knocking on his door and tipping him off that someone was looking for him...

I realised that I was just being a cunt really and that enough was enough :)
( Jessie © needs pirate name suggestions, Wed 5 Dec 2007, 15:12, 6 replies)

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)