I’m An Award-Winning Liar

I won some kind of new-fangled writing award. I forget exactly who gave it to me, but I think it was Leeuna over at My Wandered—and it never came back! 00odozo at When I Reach, Ziva at Ziva’s Inferno, Frank Lee MeiDere at I Don’t Give a Damn or Nicky, Mike and Jepeto at We Work for Cheese. Or it might have been all seven of them. Not that it matters—I love them all equally, just like my children and wives.

I mean wife.

I’m not one of those crazy Mormon polygamists.

Or maybe I am. How do you know I’m not a crazy Mormon polygamist, a devout devotee of Joseph Smith, Brigham Young and Rulon Jeffs, the eighth prophet of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints?

You don’t.

Jeffs had 19 to 65 wives, about 60 children and one awe-inspiring penis.  Seriously. Could you blame me for looking up to Jeffs? I mean, you have to respect a guy who can keep 19 to 65 wives satisfied, even if he was the dirty-minded leader of a relatively obscure cult. That dude was prolific in ways that I can’t even imagine.

Well, actually, I can imagine it, but I shouldn’t because that’s just wrong.

Rulon Jeffs and two of his 19 to 65 wives. I really like their matching outfits. And hairdos. And the weird finger thingys they have growing out of their shoulders.

Anyway, one of the wonderful things about the Internet is that it’s filled with creative writers and creative liars—men pretending to be lesbians, women pretending to be women interested in men who are pretending to be lesbians, and hermaphrodites pretending to be award-winning sous chefs. As I understand it, the reason my friends gave me this award is because they think I’m either an imaginative writer or a despicable liar, or both.

One of the conditions of accepting the award is that I’m required to tell you six outrageous lies and one total truth. Or six outrageous truths and one bold-faced lie.

Okay, I can do that. Here’s the list:

1)      I once spent a week in Utah’s rugged mountains helping a team of technical climbers and law enforcement officers investigate a mysterious death.

2)      My brother is a wealthy former fashion model who is the world’s largest private collector of a particular type of antique furniture.

3)      I once held the world record for having the largest collection of business cards.

4)      I once spent a week searching for Bigfoot in the heavily wooded, swampy area of east Texas known as the Big Thicket.

5)      I recently went to Dairy Queen with the widow of the commander of the space shuttle Columbia. She had a medium chocolate-dip cone. I had a medium chocolate M&M Blizzard with malt.

6)      I once traveled to Geneva, Switzerland as a member of a German judo team.

7)      I wanted to be musician when I was younger, and took years of classical and jazz guitar lessons.

Now, just to make this slightly more interesting, if any of you can guess which statement or statements are true and which statement or statements are false, I’ll send you a prize—something like a million dollars or a new car, except cheaper and less desirable.

Another condition of accepting the prize is that I have to pass it on to seven other bloggers. But I’m too lazy to do that, so I’m just going to give it to Rena over The Couch Sessions and Kam at Typewriters and Fools. Rena recently started blogging again, although she’s always been such a sporadic poster that I’m not sure I trust she’s going to keep it up this time. In fact, she might not even be Rena, she might be Rena’s cousin, Kam, who recently lost her Internet connection and probably stormed across the back 40 to kill Rena with a large meat cleaver in order to get access to her high-speed modem.

One more thing: In the interests of encouraging honesty—and also to prove that I don’t make up everything I write—I’m also going to offer to let each and every one of you ask me a question that I promise to answer honestly, or as honestly as I can given that I don’t want the authorities to find out about my wives. Authorities frown on that sort of thing.

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