Gullible folk

I love gullible folk. This includes children. A couple of weeks ago, my girlfriend were at a party and she introduced herself to someone. Somehow the stranger was confused that my girlfriend, who is tall and skinny with long blonde hair, was from Russia, and we had some fun with it.

Stranger: Are you really from Russia?
GF: (without a hint of accent)Yep!
Stranger: :eek:
Me: Yeah, cost a fortune, too…
Stranger: :eek::eek::eek:

While waiting for a battleground in WoW, I said in one of the chat channels: “Gullible is not really a word. Doesn’t appear in any dicitionary. Check for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Some guy did…and the proudly announced I was wrong…even provided a cite to an online dictionary.

I lol’d. As did several others.

At my workplace, sometimes the piped-in music is set on the '80s station. As you can imagine “We Are the World” would come on a lot. When Bruce Springsteen would sing , we all thought he sounded like he had kidney stones when he sang so I thought I’d have fun with it.

One of my co-workers is a kind of an '80s trivia buff so I thought I’d share some “trivia” with her. I said that there was a reason why Bruce Springsteen sounded like he does on the “WATW” song. He was on his way to record his part but suffered from abdominal pain while heading to the studio. Instead of going to the hospital then, Bruce bravely recorded his vocal.

When my co-worker replied, “Really?”, I said “No, I made it all up.” She bought into it for awhile though. :smiley:

Three-year-olds count, right?

My daughter frequently asks me where things are. (The factually correct answer is always “Wherever you put it down the last time you had it”, but I digress.)

Anyhoo, my standard response is “Up your butt!”

Up until about 3 months ago she would invariably turn around and look at her hindquarters, then turn to me with a puzzled look on her face and say, “No it isn’t!”

It was very cute, until she got wise to my antics. Now I can’t even get her to look up from the newspaper.

My wife turned the tables on the prankster who did the “gullible is not in the dictionary” bit on her: she went to the big-ass dictionary in the library, then announced that hey, it really wasn’t! The would-be prankster went to double check and said, “no, here it is!” to much laughter.

They congratulated her on the coup, but in reality, she’s both gullible AND a poor speller :slight_smile:

Oh, leave us alone. We can’t help it. :frowning:

I love the combination of thread title and OP’s username.

My oldest brother’s wife is the epitome of a city girl. We were driving down to Florida years ago and we kept passing farms with signs that said, ‘Polled Herefords’. She asked what that was and without a pause my brother says, “Well, that means that they’ve polled the owners and found out whether they’re Republicans or Democrats.” She bought it for a few miles until I couldn’t stifle the giggles from the backseat.

For anyone who isn’t familiar, polled means basically they’ve had their horns removed. Not as dangerous.

I am fairly gullible. I’d have fallen for that one.

my excuse is I trust people.

A friend who worked at Friendly’s Ice Cream would tell customers who asked for a small bowl of ice cream that they were all out of the small and only had large, and the customer would always say, OK, then, I’ll have the large.

I had a neighbor once who was not the most trustworthy chap. He came over one day to see if he could borrow an adjustable wrench. I asked him what size he needed and when he told me 3/4 inch, I told him my wrench wouldn’t work as it was metric. He left.

Actually, polled means that they have been born without the buds to grow horns, eliminating the need to dehorn them.

= = =

Calvin’s dad, (of Calvin and Hobbes), was my hero and I gave my three-year-old son a lot of misinformation early on. It did backfire, however, as I had to search the house (pre-internet) for a picture of a cranberry bog after I answered a question, honestly, about how they harvested cranberries, only to be met with utter disbelief.

= = =

Back in the Elder Days, when I was going to Control Data Institute to learn programming, we had a classmate who was not as quick as would have been to his advantage. One day, he saw another classmate reading a “cookbook” for some language and asked what it was. Without missing a beat I reminded him of the early days of computers when they were rigged with wires passing through small iron rings and explained that one of our bonus classes included baking the iron rings and then threading together a primitive computer. The classmate who was reading the book picked up my line and ran with it, then the woman on the other side of the gullible guy chimed in. We had him terrified that he had missed one of the course requirements for about five minutes. (I think we finally broke down and explained it; I don’t recall him toggling to the fact that we were having him on.)