Despite what you think you know about how airplanes work, the truth is that it’s gorillas. Other animals help, of course, but it’s gorillas that do the hard work.
Under a plane is an area with treadmills that gorillas run on to create the force to lift the plane. The elephant is used to tilt the plane (an aardvark above moves a peanut in the direction they want the elephant to sway. They originally used squirrels but that stopped when one squirrel ate the peanut and the flight is still going around the world because it can’t turn). The squirrels are used when you push the call button. They run and tell the attendants that seat 44a needs something.
Don’t believe me? Next time you’re at the airport pay attention. You’ll see there are little doors everywhere. Some people think they are mechanical access panels, but that’s wrong. They are entry points for the monkey conductors. Just listen to the sound a plane makes when about to take off. Any logical person knows that’s the sound of gorillas running. Also, only some of the carts outside are for baggage. The others are used to transport animals. The person with the flashlight guidining in the plane? There’s a banana in there and the scent guides in the hungry gorillas.
Really, there’s a crazy amount of rube goldbergesque things going on behind the scenes (lucky for her I could draw them to kill the time while waiting for the next connecting flight).
No kids, but I told my nephews that the sword I had hanging on the wall had been won in a duel with a pirate captain, and that the rust on it was the pirate’s blood.
When they were in their teens, they cautiously asked me if I’d been kidding…
My brother is six years younger than I am, and his seventh grade class was studying current events when I was finally old enough to vote. He asked me who was I going to vote for? I told him Dole, but it didn’t really matter. When he asked me why, I told him the presidency is a sham, and like the king or queen of England, presidents are just a figurehead. When he asked who really runs the government, I told him Ross Perot did, because even though people didn’t talk about it, he was our dictator.
I thought that was kind of funny…until several days later when my dad called me and asked me why the hell I told him that Perot was a dictator
A few months later he was studying about the presidents and asked me who my favorite was. I said I didn’t have one (true) and he said his was Teddy Roosevelt. Giving him an aghast look, I demanded to know why. When he got confused and defensive, I asked him if he knew that Roosevelt started WWII just so the Australians wouldn’t be forced to speak German. He admitted that he hadn’t known that…
I see my various nieces about once a year and figure they get sick of grownups telling them how big they’re getting and how they’ve grown. So I’ve always told them how I could have sworn they were much taller last time I saw them and are they sure they’re not shrinking.
While eating ice cream at Friendly’s or Dairy Queen, it’s time to tell the old Maraschino Cherry story, my variant on the urban legend about the distillery that had one vat that produced a particularly tasty beverage, and was eventually found to contain the body of a long-lost janitor.
I tell them how those fake looking cherries are really the product of marinating for ten years, and how the company hadn’t fully drained and cleaned the vats for decades…needless to say, the story follows similar lines, going on about how vat 7 always produced the best tasting cherries, and so the manufacturer used those for their premium line, destined for high-end restaurants and ritzy ice cream parlors of the upper class.
Then state inspectors mandated that they drain and scrub their the huge stainless-steel vessels, resulting in the discovery of a long-pickled janitor who disappeared in the Days of Disco.
When I was a kid, I taught my best friend how to play black magic. Since it requires a third person to play it on, I volunteered my younger brother.
Naturally, I claim psychic powers. Specifically, I said that wearing skirts gave us psychic powers, which is why we could read minds and he couldn’t. The Secret Psychic Sisterhood of the Skirt was a running joke for years afterwards.
This Friday I inducted her youngest sister into the Sisterhood. I feel so proud of passing on the tradition…
I told my six-year-old nephew that I was the world’s champion rock skipper. We were out at a lake and while I could skip mine 15 times or so, his would go plunk, so I guess he believed me. He told everyone at his church about his famous uncle.
I don’t know why I don’t joke around like that with my own kids. We have fun but I just haven’t told them whoppers like that.
I briefly had my youngest convinced that I was a Ninja. I convinced her that, if I was really a Ninja, I’d have to deny it anytime I was asked. It’s now a long running family joke where she will lament the fact that I’m “not a Ninja” with a wink and a nod.
I also told my kids that if you plant a marshmallow in the yard, a marshmallow bush will grow.
Oh yeah - and we had sucker trees one year. I told the kids that you needed very special environmental conditions - but if the weather was just right, suckers would grow out of the trees in our backyard (required a little prep time with a cordless drill but worth the effort).
The scar on my leg is from a bullet wound I received while serving in the KISS Army. (No, I did not get bit by a dog when I was a kid! )
“It’s closed”. This is a good one for whatever place they want you to take them to. So good that now my kids use it on their kids. This is similar to the “Toys 'R Us is only open during Christmas time” lie my parents told me and my siblings. At the time T.R.U. only advertised during that time of year, so it was easy to believe that lie.
I refused to eat rhubarb when I was a kid so my Ma instead made “green apple cake” and I’d scarf it right up. My kids were mostly good eaters so that lie went to waste.
The squirrels in the back of my property make a chattering noise. I have my grandsons convinced there are monkeys back there!
I told a friend’s kid that a Dead End meant there was a pit full of skeletons at the end of the street. He turned to look, then turned back, completely silent. I don’t know if he stills remembers it.
I have always sought to gain enjoyment over the gullibility of others.
When I was a senior in HS, a few in our government class made a trip to Wash DC. It was called Closeup and students from several different states would come at the same time and you got to meet others.
A friend and I were rooming with 2 guys from RI. The girls from RI, seemed to enjoy our southern accents so we spent a lot of time talking for them.
They would ask questions like what did we eat in GA. I told them the usual and then they would say things like pizza or spaghetti and then I would say “no, never heard of that”, then they would describe it and I would of course deny ever eating anything like that. (Even though our room was ordering pizza every night). I told them that we even spelled dog differently (dawg) in GA.
Then when we returned a classmate was looking at pictures and asked why the Washington Monument was lighter at the bottom than the top, I told her that years ago, Washington DC flooded and that was where the water line ended. She asked then why was it lighter, I told her that the water cleaned off the bottom part.
The running gag at my house is every time we see some bit of daring on TV where the hero rescues his love (or whatever) that the very same thing happened to me and their mom and that is when she feel in love with me (ala How I met your Mother). They are 21 and 18 so of course they roll their eyes and go yeah sure. But I enjoy the stories (got to get ready for the neices and nephews, they are all way younger).
The first thing I thought of is the lie my dad told me and my sisters when we were kids. We had a cabin that we went to every summer weekend. It was about an hour ride. When we were really young, we probably started getting antsy or were fighting in the back seat. There was an old farmhouse up on a high hill along the highway we traveled. Dad told us it was Frankenstein’s house. Every time we went passed it we’d scream and duck down so Frankenstein couldn’t see us! When I think about it now, he just made matters worse - instead of keeping quiet, we were screaming!!
When my nephew was two, he tried to climb the dresser and fell, cutting up his side. When he was four, we told him his scar was from a knife fight he’d had at two, but didn’t remember. He believed us for a while.
I have taught English to Japanese kids and we once had a party at an Outback Steakhouse restaurant in Tokyo. Seems like most of the kids believed me when I told them that Buffalo Wings are taken from actual buffaloes and Pink Lemonade comes from pink lemons, of course.
Yeah? Well when I was a kid adults took great delight in screwing with my head. Now it’s my turn.
Like this: One of the houses we lived in when I was a kid was built and previously lived in by the Uncle of a boy that lived across the street. My brother and I spent a great deal of time in their home. On several occasions “Unk” was there and asked if our father had found the treasure he buried in the back yard but forgot to dig up before he moved out of the house. His story was quite intricate and being dopey little kids we actually fell for it.
One of the very rare times I ever heard my Pop use the F word was when he found all the holes and divots we left in the back yard looking for that gawddamned treasure! :smack::rolleyes:
What about gullible adults? We’re going to the Caribbean with my brother and his wife for 10 days. He bumped into one of his wifes clients and she asked him if we’re taking a plane or a cruise. Paul told her that we’re taking a Uber from Milwaukee to Miami and then getting on a blimp. She actually bought this lie and thought it sounded like an exiting vacation!:eek: Later on she asked his wife how they were able to get a blimp flight to Grand Cayman, and aren’t we going to be bored riding in a Uber for 1500 miles. When she learned of the ridiculous story Patty almost wet her self trying not to laugh at her client.
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