I'm not broken, I'm just bent

So, I was googletalking with my friend Sweetbreads the other day, and we were talking about lying. She argued that she's good at it because she was a philosophy major, so she feels that if she can think it, it must be possible. This gives her good believability*.

I also fall victim to the "If I think it, it could be true" way of thinking, but it never seems to help me come up with believable lies. In fact I'm a really shitty liar and the only reason I ever get away with it is that I look like a shitty liar so people assume I don't even try. Score!

Anyway, the sort of things that pop into my head would never make good lies because they are usually bloody and kind of disturbing. For example, I was on the bus in Chicago once and saw a woman holding a baby and leaning out into the road, and I pictured her throwing the baby in front of the bus. That was gross. But not a good excuse for being late to work, because it would probably be on the news.

Also, in our new apartment some of our windows won't stay open, so I propped one up with a box and the Neurotic Cat decided to sit in the sill under this precariously hanging window. Of course I got a flash of him being squashed and blood squirting out everywhere. Instead of using that as an excuse for anything I started to think about how I would explain that to the vet. "Sorry new vet who just met us, I'm really not abusive to my animals, I just smash them with hammers sometimes when they're misbehaving. Can you fix him?"

Anyway, I think I could make one of those really shitty independent horror films about it, where I just walk and ride around and picture horrible things happening to people. It would be called "Lies." Or maybe "Existentialism," if I decide to get off the One Syllable Horror thing.



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*It's like drinkability, but with more believing and less drinking. Most of the time.


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