3 Steps to Mastering the Art of Lying

Maybe this is not the best thing for me to share here.

You’re probably wise enough to realize that I don’t know these things from just reading them off the back of a cereal box. And I’m not going to tell you that I learned these things by simply reading them off the back of a cereal box because that would be a really bad lie.

You may also to catch on to the fact that I know these things because I have personal experience. Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not going to tell you. That way I won’t have to lie about it.

See how I did that?

Here are a few strategies for lying that I would offer if I hadn’t just read them off of a cereal box and had personal experience.

1. Check the evidence. It’s difficult to convince your husband that the blouse you’re wearing was NOT recently purchased while you were also cutting back on the beer budget if the price tag is hanging below your right boob. Also, be careful about suggesting that it’s a marketing strategy to launch your new sex-for-money business because it’s possible that he’ll offer to be your accountant and set up your website.

2. Cry. Crying is a decent strategy for establishing the necessary credibility. I, personally, had tremendous success while in tears over a yellow-jacket in the car. I didn’t want to admit that I was a whiny-ass coward who was prone to meltdowns when flying insects are in the vehicle with me, so I told the nice officer that I was allergic. The alternative was potentially getting arrested for being stupid, and I wasn’t having any of that. I don’t look good in an orange jumpsuit.

3. Stop talking. This is a hard one. When we lie, we want to add all sorts of clever details. You might as well ignite your knickers because people are so going to know you’re full of it. Good lie: “Sorry I wasn’t here last night. Some folks from work decided to hit up happy hour.” Bad lie: “Sorry I wasn’t here last night. I got trapped in an elevator. With nuns. And an investment broker. Who gave me awesome advice about pig futures. Which the nuns really appreciated. Because nuns like pigs. And futures. And Jesus. And then the firemen came. But they didn’t want to hear about the pig futures. Cause firemen hate pigs. But not Jesus. I think they like Jesus. What are your thoughts on Jesus? And pigs?”

So plan ahead, cut some onions, and keep it short and sweet. Because if you screw this up, not only will people know that you can’t be trusted, but you’re also going to end up the head of some committee that meets on Saturday night and expects YOU to bring the rice Krispie treats. And probably, there won’t even be booze.

Image credit bewinca.