She Loves Vodka and Coke

This is my sister in 1994 just before she shot up the I Love Lucy set on the Universal Studios Tour with her brand new, right out of the box, Smith & Wesson 9mm polymer-framed semi-automatic pistol. These awesome military & police weapons hold a 23+1 clip, and DAMB! That bitch used every fucking one of em rounds on dat set! If Dezy wasn't dead already, he sure as fuck is now!!! Talk about Scary! That's Scary Sherylee! Luckilly, no one but the mannequin stage props were hurt, and big bad Sherylee wasn't arrested... Thank GOD! Somehow, Universal Studios worked the scene into their show and played it off as part of a planned live performance in order to avoid any negative publicity that might scare off tourists.

But we all know the truth, now don't we... Universal Studios actually asked her if she would consider becoming a permanent performer in the show, however, after being asked to submit to the standard drug screening process, she declined stating personal privacy issues and violations to her sum'm 'r other amendment rights 'n shit. Well, fuck 'em if they can't take a joke, and joke 'em if they can't take a fuck! That's what Sherylee always says... Don't piss her off!!! She's packin' a whole lot a whoop whoop, whoop ass in them jeans!!!

Is my sister really a fat man in a dress?

I'm not sure if my sister was always my sister, but perhaps my brother when we were children.

When we were very young, I think she was a he, but I'm not sure. She was either a really ugly and aggressively masculine young girl, or he is a girly girly boy of the scariest sort!

This is my sister's school picture at age 12. You tell me... I just can't call it out for sure.

If you are new to this site, please read this clarification about Lies About My Sister.

The Real Truth Behind The Lies About My Sister Blog

This post is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me god. The truth contained within this post is, in fact, the only truth you will find within the contents of this blog site. Lies About My Sister is all lies about my sister and nothing else. Be aware that everything about my sister that you may learn about her here is, in reality, a lie. There is, in fact, no truth to be found in this blog other than within this post. Should I reiterate? I'm telling the fucking truth bitch! Believe dat.

 Lies About My Sister are creative and imaginary tales of fiction and nothing less. I write lies about my sister and post them on the internet for the world to see, and I encourage you to the same. If you've heard any juicy lies about my sister or read lies about my sister on the Internet, or even if you just feel like fabricating and spreading some scandalous lies about my sister of your own volition, please post them here and share them with everyone, especially my sister! And I don't mean that facetiously either, I think it is totally fucked up to tell lies about my sister behind her back, ya know...

I hate it when people tell lies about me behind my back. That's some fucked up shit man! Then one day you notice people start looking at you kinda funny... ya know... kinda weird, like all suspecting 'n' shit. Then you find out the truth--someone has spread some venomous lie about you bearing no resemblance to reality. Yet, some people believe the lie and tell it to others, and the tentacle chains grow longer and deeper, until, eventually, that lie becomes the truth. Eventually, even some of your closest friends begin to believe the lie is true, because it has been repeated so many times, by so many different people, many who know you well, so people begin to identify you with the lie and that becomes your image in their eyes. And all you can do about it, is tell the truth. So, why, you ask... would anyone tell lies about my sister? Especially me, her one and only beloved brother?

The fact is, I don't tell lies about my sister. In fact, I am absolutely honest about everything all the time; I have never told a single lie, not even a little white one, in all of my life, since I was born; I swear to god! Just kidding. I'm lying. I have told a whopper or two in my time. To tell ya the truth, I've probably even lied to myself! All lies about my sister aside... My sister thinks I am afflicted (and afflict her) with a psychological malady called mythomania, also known as pseudologia fantastica or, more comonly know as pathological lying. Nearly every time I tell her some fact, she tells me I'm lying, I'm full of shit! In other words, she believes I am a pathological liar. I am not, nor have I ever been a member of the communist party, uh, I mean I'm not a mother fucking pathological liar, OK?!? Thanks. Mythomania is a condition involving compulsive lying by a person with no obvious motivation. The affected person might believe their lies to be truth, and may have to create elaborate myths to reconcile them with other facts. A pathological liar is someone who often embellishes his or her stories in a way that he or she believes will impress people. It may be that a pathological liar is different from a normal liar in that a pathological liar believes the lie he or she is telling to be true—at least in public—and is "playing" the role. He or she sometimes is seen to have a serious mental problem that needs to be rectified. It is not clear, however, that this is the case. It could also be that pathological liars know precisely what they are doing. Confused hashes of history and wishes are called confabulation.

Even though pathological lying is not recognized as a clinical disorder, legal court cases often require that the plaintiff prove that the defendant is aware that he or she is lying. This proof is most important in cases of slander and/or liability. Pathological liars often actually convince themselves that they are telling the truth, which in turn can alter polygraph tests and other questioning. Some have observed that when caught in a lie, pathological liars tend to become hostile or try to disregard the fact they lied; often playing it off as a joke. The following true story demonstrates a typical scenerio in which my sister accuses me of making up a story to "fuck with her, to make her feel stupid" as she so suscinctly tells me from time to time. One Christmas Eve, my sister and I were looking at some pictures together in one of her family albums. One of the pictures was taken in front of the the giant guitar outside the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada. The picture was very dark, as it was taken at night, probably without a flash. As we're looking at the picture, she says something to the effect of "I'm not sure where this one came from, but it looks like the Hard Rock..." So I have to tell her, "yeah it is, I took it." "No you didn't!" snidely with nose crunched up... "Yes, I did, I took the picture with a disposable camera, and you're in it." "No I'm not!" "Yeah, you are, come look at it in the light" I take the picture over to the light and attempt to lure her over to see that she is in fact in the picture that I took of her in front of the giant guitar in front of the Hard Rock Hotel when we went there together and had a really great time! She wouldn't come over to the light, but insisted I was lying! "Dude! You're full of shit!" Stop It! Why are you doing this on Christmas Eve?!?" She starts crying... and I have to somehow calm her down, so I grab her by the arm, pull her close to the light forcing her to look at the picture... As she sees her image appear out of the darkness of the picture, she suddenly remembers, sort of... "I am in that picture... How did you know that?"... "I told you, I took it!... of you!... when we were there!... In Vegas!... Together!... "Really?" she concedes, "Well, I always think you're fucking with me, You're always making things up just to see if I'll fall for it, so you can make me feel stupid." But the thing is, I've pulled her leg a couple of times here and there, but in good fun, ya know, like just playin' around... I've never left her thinking that something I was joking about was the truth.

When I joke, I always say "Not Really, I'm just kidding you..." I stopped kidding with my sister several years ago, because I don't like it that she is so convinced, so often, that I am lying to her, that I'm full of shit, that I make shit up all the time just to be making stuff up, just to make her feel stupid. I hate that, I hate defending myself when all I'm doing is making conversation or sharing information. Why make up shit when there's so much absolutely fascinating truth lurking just under the surface of popular myth and supressed realities just begging to be pulled up, to emerge from the thick and desperate darkness, to be exposed and held up, to glisten in the glorious light of God's Sun, to empower a person with a genuine insight, perhaps for the very first time? Hmm... Good question... Go figure, I just made that shit up! :-) So, in my frustration, I decided, in typical Rev fashion, to take on the behavior I'm accused of so often, so as to make her right about me.

I'm tired of her being wrong about me. And, so, since I can never seem to convince her of the truth, i.e. that I'm not a pathological liar, I've decided to make her imaginary reality true for her. All in good fun though. Why? Because I love the truth. The truth is, and will always be, ultimately powerful, and it is free. Therefore, the truth should be exposed wherever it exists and lies should be exposed and distinguished as such so they are not believed by anyone, as lies serve only to reduce a person's personal power and effectiveness in the world. I love helping people prove their theories with facts, as opposed to cosigning they bullshit and myths. It is typically much easier to be wrong about something than to prove your righteousness. In Lies About My Sister, all the lies are exposed for the world to see, and thus, my sister is correct, I am full of shit! But at least I know I'm not a liar, I am not a hypocrite. I may be full of shit, but at least I'm honest! Peace.