Description: I'm the author of High Holiday Porn: A Memoir. Available wherever the best books are sold. This is a place where I blog about various things. Welcome to here!
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A guy once told him a story about how lies could pile up on each other until they collapsed on top of the person telling them and crushed him to death. The guy had been cheating on his wife with a younger woman and feeding his wife bullshit until finally she flipped on him and went to the press. The marriage collapsed. He paid an enormous divorce settlement, filed for bankruptcy, his children were ridiculed about in school, and then he accidentally impregnated his mistress. The guy was him. And he had told
That’s not to say that he stopped lying. He lied all the time. To everyone, sometimes for no discernible reason whatsoever. Like just a moment ago when he told his wife he needed an hour of alone time to read an infrastructure report when he really just wanted to try out a new rub-in tanning lotion in the bathroom. It wouldn’t have made a difference to her if she knew what he was up to, they rubbed tanning lotion onto each other all the time. But the lie just fell out of his mouth, like a poker chip-shaped
The tanning lotion had a sweet, baked goods-like scent to it, but it went on a little too sticky and he knew it would leave a brownish stain on the collar of his shirt and the back of his hair. The thing with the bricks piling up and collapsing story was that it was a bad metaphor, because when bricks actually fell on your head, your skull caved in on your brain and you died, which never happened to him, no matter how dishonest he was. Little ones or big ones, he’d never died - and wasn’t there some saying