Lying is a function best reserved for those rare occasions in which a serial killer is looking for your sister.
If a knife wielding maniac in a Nixon mask want to know my address, then heck-to-the-yeah, I’m going to lie.
April Fools Day is not that important.
Basically, this “holiday” seems to be when people just bald-faced lie about things that aren’t necessarily funny.
I get it… sometimes, it can be fun… but generally only when it’s brilliant.
You fake crying and telling me that your adorable baby hedgehog got caught under your lawn mower?
Pretending to be dead, pregnant, seriously ill, losing your faculties, divorcing someone, marrying someone, joining the CIA, or any variations of the aforementioned prevarications… NOT BRILLIANT.
Seriously, if you were to tell me that they’ve signed the Fourth, Fifth, Eighth, and Ninth Doctors up for the Doctor Who 50th special, and I were to get all excited about it, and then tomorrow, you were to come traipsing up (giggling like an idiot) and take it all back, you and I would have a problem.
In fact, you had better run.
I will not be trifled with on Whovian matters.
I will make an end.
So, just to be on the safe side, it might be best not to include me on your “I have contracted avian flu and only have six more weeks to live” chain letter.