What stupid lie did your big brother tell you that you just realized was false?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

When I was a child at the tender age of 12, my big brother’s ne’er-do-well friend Steve took time off from shoplifting to go on a trip to Germany with his family. When he returned, he brought with him a beautiful pearl-handled switchblade knife, a forbidden treasure that he sold to my brother for an undisclosed amount.

From day one, I coveted that knife, watching in envy as he flicked the blade out and then folded the knife. Noting my envy, he gleefully pointed out each one of the knife’s features. He showed me the name of the manufacturer on the knife blade: Rostfrei. This was, according to him, a famous manufacturer of fine German knives. Too cool for words.

Some years later I acquired another switchblade or two and noted, with a smug feeling of satisfaction, that they too bore the esteemed Rostfrei name. I noted that the fit and finish wasn’t exactly what I had hoped for and figured that the firm was letting their standards slip.

Today – yes, TODAY, 25 years after the original discussion with my brother, I was listening to a rather dull teleconference at work, fiddling with my Swissbit Siss Memory Knife when I saw the following at the base of the blade:

Victorinox
Switzerland
Stainless
Rostfrei

At first I thought “Wow. That Rostfrei firm must be a subsidiary of Victorinox or something. That explains the good reputation.”

Something didn’t seem right about this. On a hunch, I ran the name through Google translations.

(you probably have already figured it out)

I’ve been had.

Sadly, this is but one of many lies I was told in my youth. There are probably dozens if not hundreds of falsehoods planted firmly in my brain as the gospel truth by my nasty brother.

So, tell me, what stupid lie did your big brother (or sister, for that matter) tell you that you just realized was false?

2

This is more appropriate for a different forum.

Moved from IMHO to MPSIMS.

3

See this is where you get your revenge. Tell him you were at the flea market and found an amazingly old “Rostfrei” knife. Say you remember how he told you what an amazing brand it was, and how you managed to hustle the knife off the vendor for some really stupid(ly high) price, and the seller doesn’t know what he just let go of. You can give him some ridiculously high price that you paid for this knife, on the basis of him having told you what a fine manufacturer they were all those years ago.

At least, that’s what I’d do.

4

Better yet. Do all that and give it to him for Christmas. And tell him and everyone else there what a great find it was and how much you paid. Implying how grateful he should be for this really really wonderful gift. Works particularly well if he actually got you a good gift :slight_smile: .

5

My big sister told me three lies that stay with me still:

  1. Orange marmalade is made of brains (still can’t eat the stuff)

  2. Porcupines shoot their quills at you (told me this at the zoo, in the porcupine house)

  3. Ivy will grow over your windows and doors during the night and close you in.
    She also used to tie me to things by my braids when I was small.
    Ahhh, memories… :dubious:

6

My big sister told me three lies that stay with me still:

  1. Orange marmalade is made of brains (can’t eat the stuff)

  2. Porcupines shoot their quills at you (told me this at the zoo, in the porcupine house)

  3. Ivy will grow over your windows and doors during the night and close you in.
    She also used to tie me to things by my braids when I was small.
    Ahhh, memories… :dubious:

7

My $0.02: I suspect the older brother was had by his friend, Steve, back when the original purchase was made 25 years ago — unless the older brother took German in high school, he was probably as clueless as minor7flat5 was about the true meaning of “rostfrei.”

Making a Christmas present of a “Rostfrei” knife would only be cruel in that situation, either reminding him of how he had beed duped all those years ago, or worse, revealing in front of family that he is still ignorant of the meaning of “rostfrei.”

8

And your point is?

9

That the person to get “revenge” on is more likely Steve, not the older brother, in this case.

10

Sorry, didn’t mean to offend. It was supposed to be a joke – i.e., humiliating Older Brother is a time-honored tradition that needs no reason.

11

Many years ago, my friend had just gotten her driver’s license. On the advice of her big brother, she went down to the service station and asked them to take the summer air out of her tires and put the winter air in.

12

I like TellMeI’mNotCrazy’s idea. I’m with laina_f on this – humiliating Older Brother is indeed a time-honored tradition that needs no reason.

Stillwell Angel, that’s classic! That’s just the kind of thing I’m talking about. Imagine if the guys at the service station had played along: she could be a grown woman with teenage children before she was totally humiliated by the exposure of this little beauty.

Though I would like to bust my brother’s chops about the whole Rostfrei thing, I can’t: he died many years ago :(. I would love more than anything to be able to call him up and say “You butthead! After all these years… I’m just glad I never told anybody else!”

Continuing on the sad note, when my father and I went to the house my brother had been renting, to clean out his stuff, I found the switchblade, hidden in exactly the sort of place where I knew he would have stashed it. I flicked it open and shut a few times, admired the “Rostfrei” name and its pearl handles, and then slipped it in my pocket – it was an undescribable sensation: I had just invaded my brother’s room and taken what once was a prized posession, a clear brotherly violation that was grounds for a serious fight, except that he was dead and the knife was now mine. I still have that knife stashed away somewhere.

I had never actually considered the “Steve is the real culpret” angle before, though it really sounds plausible. Steve likely spoke passable German at home, so he could have very well played a joke on my brother. This doesn’t fit the personalities, though. This is more of a big-brother, little-brother joke than a joke against your fellow stoners. It fits the pattern he established over many years.

Another example, to better illustrate his style: Once when I was around 9 or 10, he read a sentence that had the word “sheath” in it, but he pronounced it as if it rhymed with “Beth”. I questioned him on it and he said: “You didn’t know that’s how you pronounce it? It’s a French word.” This was one of the rare moments when I had enough confidence that I called BS and he laughed it off. Unfortunately, there are undoubtedly hundreds of mispronounced or misunderstood words in my vocabulary that he planted.

13

I got my first car when I was sixteen and drove it home. Lil Sis, age 13, came running out into the yard all happy and excited and begged a ride.

“OK, hop in”, sez I.

After we’d traveled about two blocks my happy and thrilled sister asked where we were going.

“Downtown”, sez I. “I need some gas money so I’m going to sell you to a pimp.”

She freaked, cried, screamed, so I took her back home. These many years later she claims that incident scarred her for life, but it was fun anyways. :smiley:

14

Heh, I did this on my little brother:

little bro was just discovering spice and, being a member of the male species, instantly went into the macho, dominance, I can eat more spice than you mode. So I was making chicken curry salad one night and he kept taunting me about how “wussy” I was making it.

So, when his back was turned for an instant, I put a BIG pile of chilli powder on the bottom of a spoon and carefully scooped some salad over it to hide the powder. I then asked him to give it a taste, warning him that I made it ultra-spicy just for him. Given that he saw exactly how much chilli powder I put in the bowl and that there was no sign of chilli on the surface, he rolled his eyes and then took a huge bite.

He just managed to notice the specks of red left on the bottom of the spoon and wonder “whats that?” when his eyes bugged out like mad and he made a dash to the fridge to grab anything he could to stop the burning. He ended up downing half a 2L bottle of milk and he felt sick for the entire night from the combined effects of the chilli and the milk.

He now makes sure to taste very carefully anything I make :D.

15

I’m the oldest. :grin:
That said, I once convinced my younger brother that in Roman times, my dad would’ve sold him into slavery (i had just learned it in Latin) because he was so bad. Or unwanted. Or something.

My brother is an angel.

I also convinced a girl that was like a little sister to me that I had a gay older brother named Phillip that came home every Christmas and was estranged from my mother and had lots of tattoos and gave me nice stuff because he was really rich. She asked my brother about it. He played along. She still believes me.

16

There was this weird parody of the Popeye theme song that made fun of Popeye in the lyrics. I don’t remember it, but my brother told me he wrote it.

I insisted on this even when total strangers I met at summer camp were all singing it.

Anyone know the lyrics?

17

Is it the one that goes something like…

I’m popeye the sailor man,
I live in a garbage can…
something something…

Guess I’m not much help…

18

Speaking as the Older Brother, anything any of my siblings want to do to me now is totally justified. I, without a doubt, deserve it for whatever it is that they perceive that I did, regardless of whether I actually perpetrated that particular act. If I didn’t actually commit the offense in question, doubtless I commited something equally heinious that I should be punished for anyhow.

If it gets out of hand, I can still kick thier respective asses.

19

Link courtesy of Google.

20

I used to tell my baby brother that if he didn’t start behaving, I’d flush him down the toilet. There are no words to describe the trauma that this little threat inflicted on his poor psyche. It’s been 25 years and I still don’t think he’s forgiven me.