>>> Fringe Benefits
By staff writer J.M. Lucci
September 26, 2007
From the Book of Cee-Lo, Chapter 4, Verses 5-6
To cheat is human; to cheat without consequence, divine.
Chris Rock once said, “Men lie the most, but women tell the biggest lies.” How awkwardly true. Contrary to this theory, however, I once was told that I could be, “too honest.” That meaning, I don’t believe lying to make people feel better is worth the ozone. Telling it like it is doesn’t do my brand of truth justice. Hence, this hasn’t made me as many friends as my high school yearbook would otherwise attest (I forged a bunch of signatures). Whatever. There’s no such thing as being too honest. You’re either honest, or you’re not. No gray. But it got me thinking about the lies we tell, and how they differ in purpose and malevolence.
I took some time off from lounging around my dorm room to sit down and write out what I believe are the main subdivisions of the lie. From harmless to repugnant, here are five types of lies used the most by our generation.
Little White Lie
Little White Lies are those minor, mostly harmless, falsifications of truth that are innocent alone, but troubling in groups, so be careful when mixing-and-matching them. Usually, people brush them off without a second thought. Examples include:
Girl: How do I look?
Chick: Omigawd! You look so cute in that outfit!
She really looks like a loaf of bread trying to escape from a spandex prison.
Mom: Where were you last night?
Son: I was at Bill’s. We were playing pool and video games.
But we weren’t playing video games. We were getting hiiii-high.
“Fucking Lies are those said with the exclusive intent of sexing up the target gender.”
Me: Did you cum?
These aren’t to be confused with the Fucking Lie (see below), because the Fucking Lie is malicious in purpose and is easily exposed as false (but after the fact, thankfully). White Lies, however, are rarely exposed, and thus, you can get away with ‘em scot-free. Pollinate the world with White Lies, because they’re what are keeping us from strangling each other at family reunions.
Big Black Lie
So preposterous, so revoltingly false no one would even pretend to believe it….but they do. Someone famous once said, “If you’re gonna lie, lie big. The bigger the lie, the more believable the story.”
“I once used my penis in a jousting competition.”
-Here we see a simple lie. Unbelievable, a bit funny, but scoffed at by listeners.
“…at the Renaissance Fair.”
-Tack this on at the end of the first sentence, and people doubt, but they are interested. Putting a time and place to your lie enhances believability.
-The coup de grace. Closing with this completes the BBL, and impregnates doubt in a person’s mind. Trains of thought suddenly board and depart into the unknown recesses of a listener’s mind.
Why was he jousting with his penis? How hard does a penis have to be to knock someone off a horse? Is it possible? I should try. Wait, he won? How big is his penis? No, it’s not possible. Well…I did fadonk Lisa pretty hard that one time, and she got mad…how would you have to sit on a horse to wield your dick against your opponent? Side-saddle?
This is the seed of doubt, and since you can’t prove a negative, the BBL stands as truth. It does help, however, that when you tell such a lie, you can back up partial elements of the story; i.e., having a big dick. No one’s going to believe your “Mister Magoo” slapped around a knight if you can’t even knock over table lamps with a boner.
No credible witnesses are an added bonus, but forgetful witnesses are even better, because they’ll back up some of your story, but fall short on key elements.
These types of lies are big because they are lengthy in description and detail. Only the most cunning and creative of liars can get away with these, i.e. beautiful women or Yours Truly. These kind of lies don’t slink by like Little White Lies, they come up and roughly fadonk you in the face. Over and over until you get the point. Bitch.
-Look over there, what in the world is that thing?!
-Your shoelace is untied.
-Hey, what’s that on your shirt?
-No, no, he’s not on drugs, officer. He’s just…sleepy. Yeah.
-I’m just going over to a friend’s house. Alcohol? No, there won’t be any boys.
-Dude! Some punkass just hit your fuckin’ ride! Yeah, get out there, kick his…okay he’s gone, yay free beer.
-Hey, is that Cindy? What? No, I didn’t try messing with your drink. Why would you think…hey look it’s Cindy!
The Fucking Lie (Male Version)
Fucking Lies are those said with the exclusive intent of sexing up the target gender. They are the epitome of the lying genre, blending all previous forms of lying into super-lies that play to the most delicate of human possessions: the ego.
Men do it all the time, but sometimes women do, too. If men were honest, rare would be the sex. In such an unholy world of truth, maybe the nice guys would finish in the top ten, instead of last. Who knows? Until Armageddon reigns, handsome and non-handsome brutes around the world will spin fallacies to woe and bone again and again.
This is the man-exclusive set of lies used for getting the sexing on. Some common, some remote. Some I’ve used before, to varying degrees of success. All are self-explanatory:
-I love you.
-You look beautiful.
-You don’t look fat in those clothes.
-You are nothing like your mother.
-I voted Democrat, too!
-I voted Republican, too!
-What am I thinking about? You, of course.
-I’ve always been an advocate of equal rights for women.
-All men are jerks, I agree.
-I’ve been celibate since my last girlfriend, you know, just waiting for Miss Right to come along.
-You don’t look like a whore. You just look sexy.
-I like [lame band, lame hobby, lame TV show, The Notebook*, etc.] too!
-I respect our friendship.
–Sperm is high in protein, and with you being a vegetarian, I just thought…
*Unless you’re my good friend Tim. Then it’s not a lie. He’s not gay, but close enough. If you know someone like Tim that enjoys The Notebook, sterilize them to prevent further contamination of the gene pool.
Generally, this is also a location-specific lie. Dive bars, Greek housing projects, nightclubs, and last call are the prime locales for this lie. Then again, men will lie at your mother’s funeral for the prospect of sex later. We never turn off, ladies.
Him: It’s terrible what happened to your grandmother.
Her: She was my mother.
Him: Oh…still, a terrible tragedy. Do you want to go somewhere a bit less noisy and talk about it?
Her: The only room no one’s in is my mother’s old bedroom.
The Fucking Lie (Female Version)
Laugh all you want. Not all women are created equally hot. You’d think it’d be easy to give away pussy, but fuglies, fatties, and mutants actually have to convince partners that the insertion is worth the risk. Thus, lying. Some remarks are common fodder, others remote, but all as false as Flava Flav’s teeth. With commentary, here are some of my favorite lures:
“I’ve never done anything like this before.”
-If I was a referee in the World Cup, and some chick pulled this move, I’d red card her faster than if she’d tackled the goalie and punched out the other team’s mascot. I’ve yet to meet a woman who said this with honesty. I may never. I just shed a tear onto my keyboard.
“I’m a virgin.”
-Then why are your beef curtains so…flappy? And non-bleedy? The only virgins I’ve seen, I’d sooner jam my dick through a buzzsaw than march along with Capt. Phallus into their Sunset Valleys. Then again, I’ve always considered myself an explorer, and planting a few Tyrone flags only benefits the gene pool…
“I’ll ride you harder than any skinny bitch ever could.”
-The only women who aren’t lying when saying this are black. Mmm…chocolate love.
“It’s just a cold sore./That discoloration is normal.”
-And I’m a Chinese jet pilot. Blow.
“I may be big, but bigger women have tighter vaginas because all that heft pushes down and increases resistance for the penis.”
-Field research debunks this theory. Not my field research, of course. This goddamn lie is meant for weak-minded individuals who actually need to be sold property in Sunset Valley. Like hybrid vehicles, electric can openers, and evangelical Christianity, if the salesman has to actually convince you that you need it, you probably don’t need it in the first place.
– Go ahead, I can’t get pregnant.
I shuddered just typing that. Guys who bite this hook usually end up writing child-support checks nine months later.
Unless they gotz teh mad ducking-responsibility skillz.