For as long as I can remember, I have been an inveterate liar. Yes, it's true: I lie all the time, on application forms and in conversations and even on my tax returns. It gives me deep, perverse pleasure, and anyway I can't seem to help myself. I've lied about experiences I've had, things I've done, places I've been. For example, I never visited Prague in 1988. I don't know how to snowboard. I can't do calculus. I didn't win a bicycle race in high school, and my osso buco is not so much widely acclaimed as nonexistent. I'm a liar.
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