Confessions of a Pathological Liar


Remember that time when you told me to wash the dishes?
Well, instead
I threw them away, borrowed your credit card and bought new ones.

Remember that time when you asked about a mysterious charge on your card?
Well, I said
I had meant to surprise you with dinner reservations, but used your card by mistake.

Remember when you asked me when the surprise reservations were going to be?
Well, I said
Next Tuesday at 7:00, my dear.

Remember when you asked why I wasn’t dressed up for dinner?
Well, I fed
You this line: the restaurant went out of business.

Remember when you asked why I didn’t get a refund?
Well, I pled
That the restaurant was so fancy you had to make a non-refundable deposit to make reservations.

Remember when you screamed and called me a liar?
Well, I fled.
(Now catch this last bit, for it is vital:
All this is true—all but the title.)

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Because Russ L asked

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