Hallelujah It's Raining ....
liars. Hope you didn't think I was going to say "men." Believe me, if it were raining men at my house I wouldn't be telling anybody until after I'd vetted them all and chose the best of the lot for myself. Anyway -- I'm not here to talk about men. I'm here to talk about Liars. (Oh, hush ladies. That was totally uncalled for!) The Liars Contest is in full swing. So far five contenders have taken up my challenge. The contest will run until midnight, August 12th. Please remember all lies must be focused on our first meeting, and to be entered in the official voting they must be under 150 words in length. Our contending liars are: Dr. John -- his story made me laugh outloud. Jenn -- who offered two lies -- one a delicious tale of deli dining which, alas, is too long for the competition; and a delightfully sentimental tear jerker that was so heart felt I actually checked my passport to see if I had indeed forgotten a trip to Malaysia. Next Goldennib chimed in with a superb tale, unfortunately much too far over the word limit. However she is invited to try again. Bil Pud, formerly known as Dangling Bile or something like that, tells a story that explains why he's no longer dangling. And Bill, also known as Old Fart, submits a wordy tale in which he admits to plagerism as well as lying. Oh, and I mus'nt forget Nea, who -- upon attempting to enter the contest -- was forced to admit that the daunting ghost of her grandmother prevents her from formulating a lie. What a lovely lot of lying friends I have. Please, add your name to the list. Every Liar's story will be posted on August 14th, and voting will immediately commense. Curves -- Day 6 stretch in 3x around stretch out
Cultivated by QuillDancer @8/10/2006 07:33:00 PM
19 Comments:
Alas my life is so boring that I cant even lie abt it! Waiting for that post :)
I wish I had the energy to exercise, instead I just sit here and watch that little jogger on your blog. She is making me tired, haha
Good luck everyone.......to the winner goes the spoils......by the way, what are the spoils?
I must protest. My entry (without the title, which I wasn't including as part of the story) is exactly 150 words. But I will submit another lie.
Isn't my entry below the requisite 150 words?
Anyway, I wasn't really fussed about entering said contest...just wanted to show you you DID so have friends...
(I'm so sweet, I love myself ...*stops to give self hug*)
Jenn you are sweet. Here's a hug from me, too.
And Quilly, here's a big hug for you, too, even though you were mean to me. Your hug is for going to Curves every day.
Liar's contest
I first met Quilldancer on New Year's Eve in Valley Forge, 1776. I was working on a painting of General George Washington crossing the Delaware. I was having trouble with the focal point of the piece when Quill suggested I paint him standing up in the boat rather than sitting down. "Perfect" I said and proceeded to finish the painting.
To thank her for her brilliant suggestion, I offered to buy her a beer at the pub. She agreed and we got to talking about her writing. She showed me the latest copy of her work which was the "The Constitution". "Beautiful penmanship!" I exclaimed. I asked her why she did not sign it and she said because John Hancock took up too much room.
My life is really boring and not much ever happens worth telling about. The one thing interesting that has happened recently I'm a bit afraid to talk about because it might get me labelled as a kook.
What happened was this: I was downtown parallel parking, and I somehow ended up in a parallel universe. It was really spooky. I was afraid I would never get back to reality. Until finally I decided to see what would happen if I put the car in reverse. Luckily that did the trick. But I'm definately not going downtown again any time soon.
I met Quilldancer in Idaho when she was 14. I pulled up to a gas station on my 125cc harley and found her looking sad . Her 125cc Yamaha was empty,as were her pockets. I tossed three quarters to the attendant and said "fill her up". She asked if I'd like to ride with her a bit. Just as we were about to leave the Hell's Angels pulled up and started laughing at us. Quilly said," we aren't going to let anyone treat us this way. She flew into action making Chuck Norris look like a wimp. The Hell's Angels promised to go to church every sunday from then on.
Grey -- here's hoping you're patient.
Nea -- spoils
Goldennib -- protest duly noted. Obviously it is I who cannot count.
Jenn -- glad you are my friend. Your second lie was of sufficent brevity to get you into the contest -- it was also good enough that I went and checked my passport to see if I had indeed been to Malaysia. Nicely done.
Lori -- according to your post you are much older than I would have imagined. Since I am still a young thing I am certain you have me confused with my great, great, great, great Grandmother Quilldancer.
Gary -- kudos for the best -- and only -- off topic lie. Perhaps I'll have to make a special catagory for those.
Sarah -- oh I do wish I remembered meeting you. It sounds like we had a blast. That must have been my tequila drinking year.
I see you got a proper looking link in your comments.
Quill....we met in a previous life. C'mon, do you really think I thought we were over 200 years old? Now THAT would be silly....
DonnaK emailed this:
Do you remember the junior high Sunday school teacher when we were kids? No one liked her because she kept telling us we were all sinners (what 8th grader wants to hear that all the time) so you and I came up with a plan to get her to quit? I still can’t believe you came up with the idea to make her think God was talking to her in the church. Looking back, I guess it was kind of dumb of us to think we could use the church sound system during the Sunday service and not have anyone but her hear it. We weren’t known for our planning, were we?! Anyway, it really stunk having to do community service for the whole summer AND having her as a teacher again in 9th grade too! Well, except that we certainly became great friends after all that.
emailed this:
How could you ever forget our first meeting? It was at a concert to see the most excellent Hoffster himself, David Hasslehoff! Every one got into a panty flinging concert and your's flew farther, magnificent elastic on those grannies, but that little Malibu Barbie in the front row claimed her's did. Like a thong really has the weight to reach that distance. I stood up for your grannies, claiming I knew they went further than hers and the following fight got us thrown out before we ever saw our stud. But it got us talking and we worked together to wait for him after the show backstage. Good thing we both brought extra panties and we managed to get a couple good shots off before they stopped us. We’ve been talking ever since. Gotta love the Hoffster.
Goldennib -- an absolutely wonderful lady sent me a link. When I first tried it an inadvertant error on my part prevented it from working. However, because I believed her veracity I analyzed the link and tried again ... successfully. If you run across the wonderfully truthful lady who sent me the link, please thank her.
Lori -- I was Thomas Jefferson? I used to be male? Well, I guess that explains why I like to sit around in my underwear.
The "emailed this" response above is from Tina.
No, no, no....both of us as we are now but our talent was stolen by others....
This came in my email from Charlie:
We met in a bar in old Bombay.
We met on the road to Mandalay.
We met in a street in Kandahar.
We met in a Cairo bazaar.
Thus run the words of a song written by me for a musical commissioned by Andrew Lloyd Webber way back in 1993 when at the age of 28 I was regarded by some as a musical genius rivalling Rogers, Hammerstein and Schwarzenegger.
Of course, Weber wasn’t to know that our meeting, 6 months earlier, had inspired the lyrics. Why would he know? Why would anyone know? It’s been our secret and I intend to keep it that way. That is, unless you wish to reveal exactly which one of those lines is the truth? Until then, my lips are sealed.
You must be feeling all warm and fuzzy now from all of your friends coming out of the woodwork with such lovely tales.
Pray for rain and then go get out your umbrella, heck, go build a dam.
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