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^ Deeqa, you're such model citizen. Can I adopt you?

Psycho is a word pussies use to define someone they don't understand.It makes me wonder what kinda psychos these people know.I'm allergic to liars, but luckily most people I know wouldn't dare tell me their bullshit stories cause they know I would call them out on their lie. "Oh so you dated 500 xaliimos in the city? Is that before or after you invited them to your mom's basement?"




This guy I know ...In his spare time he's a carpenter and all the furniture in his condo are from his own hands, he's a painter a sculptor, a blacksmith/welder, a tailor , a photographer, an amateur bird watcher,
an accomplished chef and so many other things.
He bought a luxury SUV and paid for it in cash...literally cash, a bunch of bills
One day, he says he's feeling peckish but only has a toonie on him as he left his wallet in the breast pocket of his suit jacket, the one he made a month ago though it's already getting too small from the twenty pounds of muscle he gained doing crossfit; I tell him, grab a hot dog, some chips or something. He looks at me like I insulted him and says...What? a hot dog? Chips? are you mad? If I must spend my money ($2.00), I must eat well; I laughed and told him check out Ruth's Chris...maybe you'll get a cup of water with your toonie.
Another time, we had a fire drill, everyone walks out the office building and meets up at the appointed place...they do the roll call and we head back in. Usually, on the way back from the drill, the elevators are busy and the lobby's crowed so I like lingering outside a bit to let the crowd dissipate. We were 3 with the liar being one. He calls us lazy for hanging back and not taking the stairs. He says: "Me? I walk home everyday and I take the stairs up to the penthouse, come back down and go back up to my unit on the 17th floor...In fact, I do this 3 times a day" We said, why not? we go up the stairs and continue our chit chat. By the time we reach our floor, the liar can barely talk he's so winded...sweating buckets... it's almost if we didn't hold him up by the shoulder to keep him from collapsing in a heap, and we were only going up to the 3rd floor.
Every day is a different thing with him...This one day, I see him with a nice dress shirt and I compliment him...he boasts and says that he made it, he bought the textile and made the shirt himself...I thought for a second to ask him where he bought the label that's half visible on the back of the shirt but decided to leave it alone.

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