Speaking Swedish, Naked Danish women and the odd Bengal Tiger Hound…

It turns out I’m a dinosaur for keeping spare shoelaces in my car. Long story, don’t ask me.  That I’d consider having things repaired instead of fecking them out is apparently so last century. I wouldn’t mind but I’m about as useful as a mouse in a cheese factory when it comes to fixing things. The real fixer-upper in our house is in truth my beloved Jo. Go girl.

Now my old man was a chancer. He has long since passed but he knew he was a chancer.  If you told him the slates on the roof were broken, he’d convince you that he could fix them. It wouldn’t matter that he’d never done it before.  Brakes on your car gone? Paddy could fix that no bother and he’d do it with the ubiquitous fag hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He was an incredible man for the B.S. and well, you know what they say, black cat black kitten.

I guess I’m tarring myself with his brush so to speak but I really can’t help myself sometimes. To be honest (if you can believe me) I am a very truthful person. It’s just that sometimes it is too irresistible and I am so good at lying that I have to purge the ability in a non-harmful way.   I wouldn’t normally lie to a soul I swear, but some people come into my life and well… they are asking for it.

It’s like the time I grew a beard for the first time. By beard I mean real beard, not the fluff I thought was a beard when I was a teenager.  I Turned up in work with a beard and some poor fool had to ask – “Why did you grow the beard?” Have you ever heard such a stupid question?

Now I could have said anything. I like beards, my face gets cold, I’m too feckin’ lazy to shave. Oh no not me. The lying B.S. gene kicked in. ‘It’s for the St. Patrick’s Day parade” I said and went on to explain that I was appearing on a float in the parade for a local charity dressed up as a member of U2.  I was going to be The Edge I told him.

Now the thing is, he wasn’t alone when I told him. There were a good ten people in the office and the really funny thing is that I was so convincing that a week later, two of them told me that they had actually seen me in the parade! I kid you not, now that’s some serious B.S.

I wanted to be like Superman. You know, like using my special power only for good, but it turns out the best use for being able to lie at the drop of a hat, is mischief making. I can’t help it, I enjoy a bit of fun. If someone says something like “I got this in Hearth and Home,” my likely response is something like; “You don’t shop in Hearth and Home do you?” I won’t at that point have a planned follow-up story but it could be anything, for example; “You know they use disabled Chinese children to make their products don’t you?” (They don’t or at least to the best of my knowledge they don’t, but you see where I’m going)  Most people tell me to Feck off at this point, but there’s always one who can’t help but take the bait.

There’s the ‘I love Michael Buble’ type of lady to whom I will have to explain that he is of course not interested in women and while they may be very beautiful, he would more likely be interested in me. Again only some take the bait but I can be convincing. Telling me that he’s married won’t work. All handsome, talented men are gay, its a fact – except for me- the obvious conclusion that should be drawn from this, is that not only am I handsome and talented, but basically the only game in town. 

I was once out on a date with the lovely Jo, when a group of people started speaking Swedish at the next table. She didn’t know me all that well back then so I explained to her that I spoke Swedish. I don’t speak it of course but I had a good back story trust me.  I then proceeded to eavesdrop on their conversation and tell her the juicy gossip.

Then there was the story about waking up naked in a tent in Australia in with 2 Danish women who didn’t speak English and no memory of how I got there (in my younger days of course) and the story I once recounted about having a date with Kylie Minogue, not to mention the countless tall tales I have told children in my family over the years. None of it harmful and all done in the best possible taste.

One time my niece and nephew were tired on a walk through the phoenix park in Dublin.  Now if you’ve never heard of the place it is in fact the largest enclosed park in Europe and it houses both the Irish president’s residence and the U.S. Ambassador to Ireland’s residence (that features in my book Larry Flynn by the way) and the Dublin Zoo among other things. Anyhoo… the two little darlings began to complain on the way back out of the park that they were too tired to walk.

There was only one thing for it. I explained that it was getting late and indeed the light was fading. This was therefore a fact. The other fact that they already knew, was that the zoo was in the park. What they didn’t know I explained to them, was that every evening at five o’ clock, the zookeepers let the animals out to run free in the park and stretch their legs.  It made sense to a five and seven year old. Then all I had to do was to throw in the odd “What’s that?…ssshh…listen…” That, combined with what were clearly lion footprints (on the trail were lots of people walked dogs) meant only one thing. We couldn’t hang around.  I never saw two kids move so fast. Kids are easy.  One small scar on my arm has been the result of a shark bite, a tiger attack and a bolt of lightning.

When I say I can’t help myself, I really can’t. A passing dog walker once asked me what breed my mutt was. I could have said mongrel but before I knew it I had not only told him that she was a Bengal Tiger Hound, but when he expressed interest, I told him the entire history of the fictitious breed and how it had got its name, being used as it was during the days of the British Empire in India to flush out tigers in a very peculiar manner. I know I’ve told the story in a previous blog about telling a bus full of overseas colleagues  in Paris, that I had once been proposed to at the top of the Eiffel tower… Do you remember that one… I turned her down… she was too needy … the Brazilian lingerie model…what am I like?

I blame it on the lack of good telly when I was a small child. We actually had to entertain ourselves and well I guess that’s where the story telling began. My mother was a thwart, my father and brother were total scoundrels when it came to telling a tall tale, it’s no wonder I am thus afflicted.

Fortunately I can tell the difference between having a bit of fun and actually telling ‘bad’ lies. I wouldn’t even call them lies to be fair. They are more like miniature happy creations, never designed to cause hurt only used for fun and not just mine, never mean spirited and constantly creative. Fortunately I have found an outlet for my desire to spin the odd tale or two… Best get back to my latest book… It won’t be long now you know…

Haven’t read a Max Power book yet?  I think it’s time to pick one up.
Max Power’s books include, Darkly Wood, Darkly Wood II The woman who never wore shoes, Larry Flynn, Bad Blood and Little Big Boy
You can find more details about Max Power’s books here : –
http://www.amazon.com/author/maxpower
https://maxpowerbooks.wordpress.com
fhttp://facebook.com/maxpowerbooks
twitter @maxpowerbooks1

Universal book links
http://getbook.at/Darkly-Wood
http://getbook.at/Darkly-Wood-II
http://getbook.at/Little-Big-Boy
http://getbook.at/Larry-Flynn
http://getbook.at/Bad-Blood