There's something you must know about me: whenever I say I'm telling the truth, I'm lying. Why would I need to state that it was the truth if it already was? The truth will out, and so it needn't be qualified with verbal padding.
Logically, I must be covering the actual truth beneath protestations if I insist that what I'm saying is the actual truth is actually not truthfully so.
The more extreme the assertion of my truthfulness, the more assured you can be that I am truthfully lying.
So, what was I lying about when I told you I was telling you the truth? Do you really want to know? You do? Okay.
Truthfully, I lied to you about the following things, and I'm telling you the truth this time.
I wouldn't lie to you about telling you the truth about the things about which I lied before when I was telling you that I was telling you the truh.
I mean what do you think I am? Dishonest or something?
On with the truth about the lies:
1. It doesn't reach the floor.
2. It was only 57 times, not 64.
3. Only because they don't award a Noble Prize for Fucking Awesomeness... yet.
4. It felt like solid gold at the time.
5. I never stipified exactly how or from what I saved the planet.
6. Eight and a half minutes.
7. I was not born in "the teeth of a merciless gale, amidship a schooner doomed to rest fore'er 'neath the eternal fury of the waves", but rather in the maternity ward of a small rural hospital during a light snowfall.
8. Well, I guess I don't "understand" Foucault, but I still insist that I would have been able to hang with him.
9. It will self-destruct in twelve hours, not eleven, as I previously boasted.
10. Uranium, molybdenum and blueberry, in that order.
11. Looking back on it, perhaps it was only a three-hamster sandwich.
12. Yes, fine, I am afraid of flutes.