For the most part, I’ve tried keeping this project nice and light. That is, after all, the point. Happy Things. Sweet and joyful things. And Zachary Quinto’s eyebrows.

However, sometimes, something happens that brings on a slightly naughty smile. The feeling may still be positive but it comes with a tiny pinch of side-eye.

It’s that moment, when someone is caught in a lie.

Oh, it’s slightly wicked but it’s great fun.

I should probably explain, I lied a lot as a teenager. Almost constantly, in fact, but never about anything that would damage anyone else. Now that I’m older, I understand that I did it because I didn’t think I was interesting enough as myself.

That’s all right, I’ll say it for you: Ridiculous.

Anyway, once I got over the whole lying phase, I became unflinching in my honesty. I might soften the edges, when absolutely necessary – I don’t go out of my way to offend – but ultimately, if you want the truth, you’re in the right place.

I used to describe myself as blunt, until a friend of mine called me ‘sharp.’ Apparently, it comes down to whether you think I’m clever or not. Either way, I’m definitely blunt or sharp. But the fact is, I won’t lie to you.

i'lltellyou

Getting back to my point, I think it was Mark Twain who said, “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” And that’s what catches people out. If they’re going to tell a tall tale, they’re going to have to remember the details. Otherwise, I can guarantee someone else in the room will notice. There’s a very good chance it will be me.
For example, there was a chap I used to drink with who was fond of exaggeration. He insisted, for years, that he’d served in some elite corps of the military. Whatever the elite corps was, he told me I probably wouldn’t have heard of it, and he almost certainly shouldn’t mention it in public because it was rather hush-hush.

I had my reservations, obviously. I know enough to know that anything secret, in the military, is supposed to stay – well, secret.

Still, he seemed to take a lot of pride in his supposed decades of service, and I – just – waited.

It was about seven years into our friendship that he let slip that he’d done his basic training before going to work in civvy street.

It’s a wicked smile but a delicious feeling.