I have a hobby. That hobby is lying. It may not be the most Christian or morally uplifting hobby but it is a hobby nonetheless and it's mine.
I love to lie.
For example, I am currently sitting at my laptop, writing this blog, on top of my neighbours roof, covered in jam, and they have no idea that I'm here.
Is that true? Of course not. I don't even own a laptop. But I said it anyway. Isn't that crazy?
That's the power of lying. Anything is possible.
Now before all you good honest Salvationists start taking offence and demanding that I hand in my epplets and 2nd baritone tune books you should know that there are certain ground-rules:
1) Lies are not to be malicious.
2) Lies are to be good humoured.
3) Lies are not to start rumours of any person or persons.
4) Only lie if you are certain that the recipient of the lie will respond positively at the discovery of the lie.
5) Be prepared to eventually receive lies after a heavy period of distributing lies.
6) Always unveil a lie if you can see the potential of the lie getting out of hand.
7) Always control the lie. Never let the lie control you.
8) Lie extensively and convincingly to everyone so that no one person may take the lie personally.
9) The more outrageous and yet weirdly convincing the lie, the better.
10) All lies are to be judged by oneself until a suitable outside referee can be acquired.
If you get it right, lying can be one of the most satisfying and socially inclusive past-times available. Which is why I have been disappointed, as of late, with the lack of people prepared to believe anything that passes my lips. As with all good things, it would appear that lying has a sell-by-date. Those who I have previously been able to sucker in with ease are now cautious of anything that departs from my mouth.
I didn't even realise how much I missed it until earlier today when I managed to have a whole phone conversation with a woman* who was convinced that I was her husband**.
So I have set myself a challenge - To have an outrageous lie printed in a national newspaper.
I'm not exactly sure how this will work but I'm certain I can do it (the letter pages are probably a good start).
And that's it. There's really nothing more to it in terms of rules and conditions. I just want a lie that I have constructed to appear in a publication that will be seen by people across the UK. And then I'll have scratched that particular itch.
So here goes. If my friends won't believe me, then maybe the nation will.
*Rachel - My deputy manager's wife
**Mike - My deputy manager.
I love to lie.
For example, I am currently sitting at my laptop, writing this blog, on top of my neighbours roof, covered in jam, and they have no idea that I'm here.
Is that true? Of course not. I don't even own a laptop. But I said it anyway. Isn't that crazy?
That's the power of lying. Anything is possible.
Now before all you good honest Salvationists start taking offence and demanding that I hand in my epplets and 2nd baritone tune books you should know that there are certain ground-rules:
1) Lies are not to be malicious.
2) Lies are to be good humoured.
3) Lies are not to start rumours of any person or persons.
4) Only lie if you are certain that the recipient of the lie will respond positively at the discovery of the lie.
5) Be prepared to eventually receive lies after a heavy period of distributing lies.
6) Always unveil a lie if you can see the potential of the lie getting out of hand.
7) Always control the lie. Never let the lie control you.
8) Lie extensively and convincingly to everyone so that no one person may take the lie personally.
9) The more outrageous and yet weirdly convincing the lie, the better.
10) All lies are to be judged by oneself until a suitable outside referee can be acquired.
If you get it right, lying can be one of the most satisfying and socially inclusive past-times available. Which is why I have been disappointed, as of late, with the lack of people prepared to believe anything that passes my lips. As with all good things, it would appear that lying has a sell-by-date. Those who I have previously been able to sucker in with ease are now cautious of anything that departs from my mouth.
I didn't even realise how much I missed it until earlier today when I managed to have a whole phone conversation with a woman* who was convinced that I was her husband**.
So I have set myself a challenge - To have an outrageous lie printed in a national newspaper.
I'm not exactly sure how this will work but I'm certain I can do it (the letter pages are probably a good start).
And that's it. There's really nothing more to it in terms of rules and conditions. I just want a lie that I have constructed to appear in a publication that will be seen by people across the UK. And then I'll have scratched that particular itch.
So here goes. If my friends won't believe me, then maybe the nation will.
*Rachel - My deputy manager's wife
**Mike - My deputy manager.
3 comments:
***TRY AGAIN***
Arrrgh, I'm being attacked by wolves!
*How's that?
A good start. Imaginative subject matter and the scream at the beginning was a nice touch.
It might have been more convincing had some of the letters been mistyped in the midst of the frenzy (but the fact that you tried once and had to re-post may well have the same effect)
7/10
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