Pseudologia fantastica, mythomania, or pathological lying is one of several terms applied by psychiatrists to the behavior of habitual or compulsive lying.[1][2] It was described first in medical literature during 1891 by Anton Delbrueck.[2] Although it is a controversial topic,[2] one definition of pathological lying is the following: "Pathological lying is falsification entirely disproportionate to any discernible end in view, may be extensive and very complicated, and may manifest over a period of years or even a lifetime."[1]
The habitual fabricator. Another wretch that I despise and have had the misfortune to meet. These people are basically self-preservation whores, spewing lies to avoid confronting reality. We must all admit that we lie on occasion, and when we do it is always to avoid an uncomfortable situation with someone. But there is a rare minority that will expend great effort to be deceptive about the most trivial things. Personally I think this is a symptom of insecurity in the highest degree, and it is for this reason that disdain and ridicule are appropriate.
There are three types of compulsive liars that will be discussed here, in ascending tiers of horseshit. We have all met the people in these categories, and I think we can all agree they should be dragged into the street and set on fire. All of them except me, of course.
Tier I
This is the most common type of compulsive liar. They think that if they can make themselves out to be the fucking best person in the room then everyone will like them. The irony being that they don't understand that people don't admire winners, they just watch closely so they don't miss their eventual failure. These guys are always pissing on your shiny shoes in social situations by trying to "one up" you. Picture the scene: It's you, three ladies and one other dude in an isolated conversation at a party. The casual talk is over, and you have had enough drinks to feel confident in telling your best tale. The details aren't important, but everybody has one of these stories. A totally true event that ends with you being the coolest fucking dude in the world, but told in a way that was humble and understated. You like your odds, and figure that although you don't know that dude there is no way he would fuck this up for you. You tell the story and you can tell it went well, and the girls are deciding whether they will fuck you or not, and the guy steps in. "That's nothing. This one time I..."
Tier II
The same assholes above graduate to Tier II, assuming they aren't beaten into an incontinent personal scooter pilot first. They have used their lies to try to gain status and have become so comfortable that now they lie about everyday bullshit. I briefly lived with a notorious compulsive liar, and he lied about such asinine shit as going out to get coffee. He had conversations with neighbors that I found out never happened, claimed to know acquaintances of mine that I later found out to be untrue, and other strange shit. This is someone that has given up on trying to distinguish between lies and reality. They are no longer keeping track of what lies they have going at one time.
Tier III
The liar has become so brash and confident that they are willing to make impossible claims, and perpetuate falsehoods that have a very low probability of success. This guy is telling lies that are designed to expose himself as a legend to be admired and worshipped in awe. These lies rival the claims of the Dos Equis guy. things like "I just joined the military. I am leaving for Iraq tomorrow." A sane person would never attempt such a blatant lie, mostly because they realize that when you see the person again tomorrow, you are going to have some explaining to do. Other classics include "I am a secret millionaire. I just live this way because I am keeping it real." and "I have bone cancer. The doctors are amputating my legs next week." When I am confronted with a lie like this it pisses me off for two reasons. First you are putting me in the awkward position of having to call you on your obvious bullshit. The only way this conversation can go forward is if I pretend to believe you, and I don't have that kind of patience. Second, you must think I am a fucking moron to even try this shit on me. Because no, I did not believe the story about how you refused the Congressional Medal of Honor that was awarded to you because "It wasn't about me, man. It was about the unit. And until they authorize six Medals for each team member, the suits can go fuck themselves." That is insulting. And if anyone here deserves insulting, it's the ex Navy Seal in sweatpants that is afraid to talk to girls. So leave me out of this.
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