Wednesday I played along with the twist on Two Truths and a Lie. And I promised that today I would reveal the answers. Despite having dozens of people drop by and read that post, only two decided to play along and guess at my lies. I also said I would challenge other bloggers to play the game as well. I’m going back on that one. No challenge will be extended this day.

The lies are printed in bold…

First

A) Despite the fact that I’m 36, people often mistake my age for late 20s.

B) The only thing I find more disgusting than chocolate is peanut butter.

C) I am an accomplished juggler.

Second

A) I could get into serious trouble with the law if I was caught driving without corrective lenses.

B) The thought of wearing contact lenses freaks me out.

C) My eyes are ridiculously sensitive to light.

Third

A) One of my favorite things to do is ride in the car and sing.

B) I’m able to hear a song on the radio and later play it on piano by ear.

C) I can only play seven chords on a guitar.

Fourth

A) I was once engaged to a girl named Angie.

B) Our heartbreaking break-up shattered my belief in the concept of true love.

C) Though I’m aware that Lois Lane is a fictional character, I’ve got a serious crush on her.

Fifth

A) I am immune to the effects of alcohol.

B) I’ve written two complete novels but haven’t had the guts to send them to anyone to read.

C) I’m the kind of guy that laughs at a funeral.

So congratulations to Vanessa, who was able to see past my veil of lies on each and every one. To be fair, she’s known me in the real world for over three years and goes to church with me, seeing me on a mostly weekly basis. Where as Paul, who only got number 5 correct, has never met me outside of the blogosphere. There is no prize for getting them all right. Except, I guess, bragging rights? That a thing?

Paul did take the time to ask about the laughing at a funeral incident(s) and I would like to tell that story at some point. But this is not that point. Mostly because it’s just too much to be tacked on to the end of this thing. If I don’t tell that story by the end of the year, remind me and I’ll get around to it.