Lies and the lying liar who tells them

I am a gifted misleader, one of the hidden benefits of growing up gay in a Southern Baptist household. Lie or die, figuratively speaking.

These days I try to keep the deceptions harmless, intending only a comedic benefit. That being said, here's three of my greatest fibs:

3.) Ashton Kutcher does "Repo Man"

Victim: Al Kosa

Source: Hollywood remakes

So I convince Al that Tinsletown is revisiting one of his favorites, the 1983 film classic, "Repo Man," with Ashton Kutcher assuming the Emilio Estevez role (and the double E inheriting Harry Dean Stanton's character). I kept it going for about two years. Whenever I brought it up, Al would unleash a predictable torrent of obscenities.

2.) The coffee table Bible

Victim: Ms. Ellie

Source: Wedding gift from the in-laws

As her marriage to Bobby Bubbles drew nigh, I convinced Ms. Ellie that Bobby's parents would be handing down the oversized family Bible. Believable, in that Bobby hails from strongly religious stock, just like the Malcontent. I let that one fester for about two months.

1.) The stripper

Victim: Al Kosa (unintended)

Source: Too much booze

This one's a bit more complex, but it demonstrates my uncanny ability to lie on my feet. Anyways, there's this gal Al and I know -- let's call her Trace -- who is not our biggest fan. (She accused me of pretending to be queer just so I could make fun of gay people). Said prudish female had previously accused Al of being a gossip -- far from the truth.

The scene: a party at Markie Post's house. I'm stuck chatting with Trace when an opening presents itself, and of course I can't resist: "Al tells me you used to do some stripping on the side." Predictably, Trace blew up like a bullfrog, turned and left. I never had a chance to tell her I was only kidding.

Flash forward a couple of hours. I had passed out. Al arrives solo at the soiree, all happy-go-lucky, until he's confronted by Trace's boyfriend: "Why are you telling everyone my girlfriend is a stripper?" Al had no idea what he was talking about.

I could've cleared everything up but, as mentioned, I had retired to the boudoir. I haven't seen Trace since -- last I heard, she was plotting my death -- but the anecdote survives.