Filed under: Peculiar People
If there’s one thing on this grand planet that sets my Vicki’s a blaze it’s LYING! Thus my topic for today. 🙂
Ok everybody fibs, and I try to only do it when necessary or in a matter of life and death lol. But lying for the hell of it or for a personal gain that really doesn’t make a lot of sense isn’t me. My long/short term memory can be garbage and I’d just look the fool later when I can’t regurgitate the carefully constructed lie I told you two weeks before. Not a good look. So if you really want to piss me off or spend the next weeks or months wondering why I disappeared on your wack azz like a cloud of smoke, tell me a lie! Not just any lie though…tell me one that is so unnecessarily steeewpid that you want to shrink away in embarrassment as soon as it leaves your lips because you know that shyt was dumb as hell. If you’re gonna do what you do, be good at it!!
Friends, if you would like to study the art of lying in raw and organic form, come to Atlanta and kick it with me for a week. Like herds of bison booking at top speed through the Serengeti, liars move across the Atlantan plains doing it big and doing it realll slick. Lying herds can often be seen grazing together at Lenox Mall, mating each other in groups or pairs, fighting for territory that’s not even thiers, and there are some that just prefer shitting in each other’s domain for the hell of it. And um, I hate to be the one to break it to you first but spotting these beasts can be quite difficult. There are so many different breeds and hybrids of liars that one can become easily confused or overwhelmed with it all. Let a sister help you out by taking the time to identify the first few types of liars one should be leery of while Safari’n it up in the A…( and don’t forget your bug spray)
The Insecure Imbecile
For whatever deep rooted reason this person is totally uncomfortable in their own skin without any true sense of self. They live so far from the truth that even they believe the stories and smokescreens they puff out of thier azz. The Insecure Imbecile would lie about a dead cat in the street if it means distracting you from who they really are. Their lies serve as escape from a reality that they can’t really deal with themselves. What’s really sad? They are the worst liars of the bunch and use the power of the lie for stupid shyt. So when you’re listening to another one of their made up stories about how they saw three aliens having sex behind Wendy’s, pour yourself a nice tall glass of “What the fuck?” while questioning your reasons for having them around you in the first place.
To expose or identify this type of liar ask them one question: Who ARE you? They’ll most likely respond with a, “What?” followed by a question to your question. If you have the patience to sit around and listen to them attempt to describe who they really are with more lies, make sure you grab your tooth brush, clean underpants and a magazine or two. You’ll be listening to the great runaround for lord knows how long because they truly don’t know. Whether or not you wanna stick around for them to figure it out is up to you. (see example below)
The Industry Rat
Not to be mistaken with a groupie, the industry rat doesn’t run around looking for an easy cake walk on someone else’s bill. They consider themselves celebrities in their own mind and will do anything and everything to convince you of this warped truth. Their stories usually consist of, “Having lunch with Russell Simmons to talk about the new Phat Farm condom,” or “Being stalked in the mall by a deranged myspace fan thus having to cut their million dollar shopping spree for their Miami trip with Rick Ross short.” These individuals most likely keep a thick ass photo album in their truck or purse packed full of Polaroid snaps with any celebrity you can think of. This is their holy grail of validation to remind them AND you that their album is dropping soon, thier calendar is in production and their new edition Range Rover really is in the shop. Industry rats are usually loud or boisterous and have a story to tell about themselves and their fabulous fictional celebrity dripped lives on a daily basis.
To expose or identify this type of liar do one of the following: (1) Get a hold of their look book and hold a lighter flame to it. Their eyes should bulge and you should begin to see the markings of Christ appear on their hands and feet. (2) Wait until you are in a social setting with a group of friends to ask, “Hey [name], so when did you say your album was dropping again? 2012?” Then watch them squirm and babble. (3) When they start on one of their celebrity stories cut them off with, “Oh that’s funny. I was just doing lines of coke with them yesterday and they didn’t mention anything about that.” Their eyes should daunt confusion, jealousy, wonderment or all of the above. Before they can get an edge in pull out your phone and say, “Man. I can’t believe they didn’t tell me that. Let me call them right now and get in thier grill.”
The D*** Slinging Dog
My personal favorite but one of the worst. These types live, eat, sleep and die for the vajayjay and are willing to tell whoever whatever to get what they want. The key to understanding and dealing with the DSD is to understand that it’s not about getting the juice box and enjoying its savory flavor for them. It’s more about their desire to conquer and slay as many ‘bitches’ as possible. To do this requires skill, a gang of lies, and if you know like I know, two or three ‘spots’ around the city to keep things in heavy rotation. For them, women are a sport and recreation of choice. The more money they have the more desireable they become and the more options and illusions they can create to get what they want. And although I hate to say it, the DSD is usually the one that’s considered to be a hot commodity amongst us ladies thus making it easy for them target and lure their prey. We usually peep them first and ruffle our feathers in thier direction. The DSD is handsome, financially stable or of high status, charming and generous with some element of his life (just not all). You usually don’t figure out which element was yours until he’s already reeled you in, slayed you and did the old drop and replace because thrill of the sport has worn off. You just better pray that the smack down is wack lest you become his slobbering slave unable to move on.
I will save ‘ways to identify the dick slinging dog’ for another blog on another day cuz the list through my lense is wildly long and hella funny. Getting caught up in lie after lie with these types becomes an obvious issue that most black girls in my city cannot ignore. For me, identifying serial slayers isn’t the problem. My problem would be the dumbing down factor – playing silly for the sake of enjoying their stroke as much and as often as possible. It’s much easier to pick and choose, deal and keep it cordial without putting them on blast. In the words of my homie Pippi, “I’d like to think I’m smarter than something that eats its own throw up.” But am I that much brighter for thinking that way?
And the truth shall set you free.
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