Putting up a photo of your little sister (who happens to be thin and gorgeous) only means the guy will ask you for HER number when he meets you. Showing up with thirty pounds of slop over your big Western belt buckle after telling your prospective honey that you sport a six pack (we all do, honey UNDERNEATH all that “athletic and toned”) will send her running. It’s neither funny nor forgiveable to be fundamentally dishonest. I have shimmied through my share of bathroom windows to escape liars. Still do. And am completely unapologetic. It’s wrong to lie.