A young Paul Dyster came crying to his father.
“Dad, my college frat brothers say that I’m a liar!” he sobbed.
“But son,” his father replied, “you don’t belong to a frat!”
“Are you aware,” asked the recruiter when Dyster applied for his first job, upon examining his resume’, “that a half truth is the equivalent of a whole lie?”
His parents once punished Dyster for lying, and he turned on them, stamped his feet and shouted, “Santa! Easter Bunny! Tooth Fairy!”
Dyster ordered an Echo from Amazon but had to return it because it immediately shorted out.
He had told it, “What I am about to tell you is a lie.”
“Well, hello, Mayor!” greeted a passerby seeing Dyster leave a psychiatrist’s office.
Looking around nervously, the Mayor said, “Just so you know, I’m not a patient here.”
“So what was the psychiatrist talking to you about?” he was asked.
“Definitely not my pathological lying.”
A man dies, goes to heaven, stands before St. Peter, and see a huge wall of clocks.
The man asks what all the clocks are for and St. Peter explains, “These are lie clocks. Everyone on earth has a lie clock. Every time a person lies, the clock hands move.” Pointing to one, the man says, “Whose clock is that?” “That’s Mother Teresa’s,” St. Peter answers. “The hands have never moved, indicating she never told a lie.” “Incredible,” the man responds. “And whose clock is that?” St. Peter responds, “That’s Abraham Lincoln’s. The hands moved twice telling us he told two lies in his entire life.”
“Where is Mayor Dyster’s clock?” the man asks. “Dyster’s clock is in Jesus’ office,” St. Peter says. “He’s using it as a ceiling fan.”
Dyster’s parents told him that it is wrong for him to have sex before marriage.
“Then why am I standing in your wedding picture?” he asked.