Monday, May 28, 2012

Liar Liar, Pants on Fire

Ever lie about something, or stretch the truth, to make yourself look a little better?
It's okay; Mother Theressa probably couldn't even get through life without doing it a few times. 
I told a little lie the other day about something so stupid. I don't know why I just couldn't tell the truth initially, but I fessed up shortly after. No harm done.

If a bag of tortillas technically expired in Feb, but they have no mold on them because they were kept in the frig....are they still eatable?
Jim Kitchens Wrap 'em in a wet paper towel two or three at a time, microwave ten seconds, enjoy... as long as there's no mold.
    • Kayla Evans-Carruth Alright, Alright, I lied to make myself look better, they actually expired in January....but I decided since I'm deep frying them, that it will kill all unwanted bacteria!
    • Christina Locklin I would eat em if they weren't stale :)
    • Carrie White Go for it! Deep fried with some salsa!
    • Staci Narramore As long as you are willing to except the fact you maybe tied to the bathroom later go for it! LOL
    • Mallory Brooke Cox No mold you're good that's my rule!
    • Kayla Evans-Carruth haha, Staci, that's what I was worried about!! But they tasted good! No harm done, so far!
    • Nikki Andrews No! Gross!
    • Sandy Evans their ok, just fry them and make chips. 
    • Kelly Jo Baublits i would eat em in a heartbeat. dip in some salsa, queso, quac and you're golden:) 
My landlord lied to me last month. You remember him right? That conniving jerk in disguise as a good guy, who puts the priority of his own extracurricular income before the safety of his tenants. I realized I've been paying him $50 extra rent for 4 months straight. When I called him out on not mentioning it to me, he admitted to noticing, but then tried to tell me it just put me one month ahead on utilities. What?? Sorry buster, a big part of my job is math, and I've already done the calculations (in my head, because I'm awesome like that, and it was really basic math....on on that thought, I'm officially insulted...). You owe me $200. 
My work friend Vickie and I were exchanging childhood stories about lying to our parents, laughing hysterically about the crimes we committed. I wont tell her secrets, but I told her she's plenty old enough to confess to her parents now, since they're 90.
 We decided it's probably a good thing we grew up in different decades, because otherwise we would have been too much trouble together. 
So on that note, I have a couple of confessions I feel like I need to get off my own record:

Dear Mom,
Remember when I said I didn't know how my lamp shade melted, and you took me to the store to buy a new one, but wouldn't let me buy the same cool square one like I had, because you thought it was a flawed fire hazard?
I lied. It was my fault.
I didn't want to you catch me up past my bedtime, so I covered the lamp with clothes so you wouldn't see the light under my door. I not only melted my favorite cool lampshade, but also burned a hole through my most beloved purple wind-. I hid them in the outside trash can so you wouldn't notice.
I know, I know. I could have burned the house down.
Oh, yes...And remember when Dusty and you were in my room, one time, and he tried to nonchalantly ask why I kept a small checkered rug in a weird spot on my floor, and I said 'becuase I liked it as decoration'?
I lied. It was ugly as decoration.
Me and Jenny Malar were playing teacher while you and Daddy were away and we got blue chalk on your brand new Berber carpet. I thought I knew what cleaner you used to remove stains, but accidentally used something with bleach in it instead, and spent the rest of the night trying to color in the new stark white circle with map pencils.....which distracted me from my baking until smoke was escaping the oven, and my 'K' shaped chocolate chip cookie was black as night.
Dusty was trying to rat on least I didn't burn the house down!
Which reminds me of one more thing.....Remember all those times when Dusty would start screaming in the bathtub, and you would come running and ask what happened and I said 'I don't know'?
I lied.
His crying was a direct result of me hitting him, because he was being a brat, or getting on my nerves. He spent the rest of his adolescence trying to pay me back by being a little tattle tale.

There. I feel all better now that that's in the open. Thank you for your understanding.
Your favorite angel.


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