My Dad is a Big Fat Liar

Ok, you’re reading the title of this post, and thinking that I am mad or upset at my father. Nope! I just speaka da truth! My dad is full of bullshit. It’s an absolute. Period.

I’m pretty sure he has been a bullshitter his entire life, but one of the earliest stories that I know about is when he lied about his name in Jr. High. My dad (whose name is actually Terry Dorgan) convinced his teachers that his name was Terrence Aluicious Sanford Mahoney Dorgan the Third, Esquire. He told the teachers this, and they just took his word for it. This was the beginning of a lifetime of spreading crapola for young Terry.Here are more examples of a bullshitty nature:

The Imported Grass

My cousin was over at my dad’s house, hanging out by the pool. She noted that their lawn always looked so beautiful.

Cousin: Uncle Terry, how do you always keep your grass so nice. You must have to mow several times a week to keep it looking so beautiful.

Dad: Well, honey, we’ve got that self-mowing grass.

Cousin: Self-mowing grass? Really???

{Author’s note: If you ever have to ask my dad, “Really?” or “Are you serious?” then your bullshit-o-meter should immediately start to beep loudly.}
Cousin: How does that work?
Dad: Well the grass only grows to a certain height, and then it just breaks off.


Cousin: Wow! That is so neat!


Dad: Yep, we had to have it specially imported from Indonesia.

 

The Cross-Dresser

When my dad and step-mom met, her daughters were teenagers. The girls were getting acquainted with my dad and weren’t yet aware of his penchant for spreading B.S. to everyone he met. Of course, my dad saw this as a ripe opportunity to mess with the girls’ heads a little bit. Now, my dad is 6’4” and a good 250 pounds. So when the girls saw some formal dresses (which were actually mine from back in high school - size 5, by the way) in my dad’s closet, they asked him why he had dresses in his closet.

Dad: Oh, I like to do some cross-dressing.

The Girls: {Mouths hanging open} Are you joking?

Dad: No! This green one is my favorite. It really makes my eyes pop.

Girls: Ummm, they look kind of small for you.

Dad: Well, I wear a girdle.

The Jumper Cables

Before we were allowed to drive a car, my dad made us learn how to pump gas, check the oil, change a tire, and use jumper cables. He was teaching my step-sister how to properly hook up jumper cables, and warned her not to hook them up backwards.

Sister: Why? What will happen?

Dad: Oh, it will be awful! Everything in the car will do the opposite of what you want.

Sister: For real? {Note that this is a derivative of “Really?” and should alert you to potential leg-pulling.}

Dad: Of course! If you turn on the air conditioner, the heater will come on. If you put on the left blinker, the right one will flash.

Sister: Oh, ummm, okay.

Dad: Also, if you put the car in drive, it will go in reverse.

Sister: Gosh, that sounds really confusing.


Dad: It is! Everything will work the opposite of normal. And don’t even try to work the radio.


Sister: {with big round eyes} Why not?


Dad: If you try to turn it on the country station, your radio will only play rap music.

 

Kicking George Foreman’s Ass

George Foreman’s daughter (Georgetta - seriously, not kidding here) went to our high school, so Mr. Foreman would often come to our football games to see Georgetta in the band. He was sitting in the section right next to us, and my dad pointed him out to my little sister.

Dad: See that fella over there? That’s George Foreman.

Sister: Are you serious? {WARNING, WARNING!} How do you know?

Dad: Well, I fought him one time.

Sister: Nuh uh!

Dad: Uh huh! We were at one of his matches, and his opponent got sick, so they invited someone from the audience to come and fight him. I didn’t really want to, but I hated for all the kids who came to see him fight to be disappointed.

Sister: Wow! How did it turn out?

Dad: Well, I whooped him pretty good.

Sister: Nuh uh! I’m gonna go ask him!

Dad: NO! Don’t do that! He still has hard feelings about it, and I’m afraid if you mention it, it might send him into a rage.

The Safety Expert

Dad’s bullshitting techniques aren’t reserved merely for kids. He likes to jack with the adults in his life, as well. He works on a pipeline, so they have frequent safety meetings, and as a superintendent for the company, he generally closes the meetings. At one meeting, he was encouraging his workers to also practice safety at home, not just in the workplace. He told them about a story where six teenagers in a nearby town had all drowned in a lake while their families stood by helplessly because none of them could swim either. (This was a true story, by the way.) He told this story to illustrate the importance of keeping your kids safe by the use of life jackets and teaching them to swim.

Then he proceeded to tell the story of how he learned to swim:

Dad: My father wanted to make sure I knew how to swim at a young age. Now, we didn’t have money for swimming lessons, so my daddy just took me out in the boat and pushed me over the side, and I had to swim back to the shore.

Co-Worker: Well, that seems kind of harsh, but I guess it worked out okay.

Dad: Yeah, the hardest part wasn’t the swimming. It was trying to get out of that damn sack.

Tricking the Siblings

My dad has lots of siblings, but he grew up with 4 younger sisters and brothers who absolutely adored him. When he was a teenager, they wanted to go with him every time he left the house. Of course, he wanted to go out and party with his friends, so he told the little siblings that if they stayed at home, he would bring them an ice cream cone with a flashlight in the end of it. (WTH?)

These poor children would wait up for hours for him to get home, crying the whole time their parents tried to make them go to bed. “Waaaahhhhh, we have to stay up because Terry PROMISED that he was going to bring us an ice cream cone with a flashlight in the end.”
Brings the whole swimming lesson story above into perspective, right?

Torturing More Children

Apparently, Dad likes to make little children cry about ice cream. My mom’s sister had 4 kids and not a lot of money. Occasionally, she would run in the store and leave the kids in the car. (If you’re horrified, get over it…if you knew these kids, you would understand that she was probably hoping a couple of them would have a heat stroke or get kidnapped.)

Anyway, if we saw them sitting outside the store, Dad would stop to chat with the kids. He would tell them that the Dairy Queen was giving away free ice cream sundaes today! “Now, make sure your mom goes by and gets you all a free ice cream.”


Then we would go down to the Dairy Queen, and Dad would buy us both a sundae. We would sit on the back of the car and enjoy our ice cream, in full view of the road. A short time later, my aunt would drive by with 4 kids hanging out of the window pointing and crying and screaming about free ice cream. If you looked really closely, you could see a middle finger extended out of the driver’s side window.

The Barr Family

My mother (bless her soul) was always a target for Dad’s leg pulling. There was a local family with the last name Barr. He totally had my mom convinced that the husband’s name was Crow and the wife’s name was Candy. Crow Barr and Candy Barr…….
He also told me that he used to date Farrah Fawcett’s sister. Her name was Leaky.

Hey, I Can Do it Too!

I think that perhaps my dad’s bullshitting may be hereditary. I took my daughter and her cousin to visit my great-aunt at the nursing home yesterday. There was a very pretty still life painting of some flowers on the wall. They asked who had painted it, and I told them that I was the artist for that particular painting. I guess I was convincing, because they actually believed me, even though I can’t draw a stick man without a ruler.

At least my dad’s legacy will continue for one more generation….so, watch out!

Love you, Daddy!!! Thanks for making life so much fun!