She also had a whole lot of degrees that were just as meaningful as Kermit The Frog's honorary Doctorate of Amphibious Letters.

courier-journal.com
This is seriously a thing that happened.

In 1979, Jones applied for an assistant job at MIT. She was totally eligible, considering she had a perfectly respectable biology degree from the College Of Saint Rose, and the fact that the entry-level job she was applying for didn't require having any degree at all. But instead of writing down a qualification she actually had, she decided to make two others up. Suddenly, she had degrees from Union College and Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute and none from Saint Rose. This is like staunchly denying you won an MTV Video Music Award but claiming to have swept the Teen Choice Awards.

Wikipedia
When Chester A. Arthur is your most famous alumnus, you are not even the Grammys of education.

Jones got the job, but she decided her two fake degrees weren't impressive enough. So at some point in the next few years the lie snowballed out of control to the point that she now had a degree from Albany Medical College, a master's from Rensselaer Polytechnic, and, finally in 2007, the former Miss Jones suddenly started going by Dr. Jones. What school supposedly gave her a doctorate? At that point it didn't even matter. She could have started calling herself the Reverend Doctor Princess Jones, Esq., and no one would have cared, apparently.

But eventually someone tipped off the school and Jones had to resign. And it suddenly made a lot more sense that she had been encouraging students to create their "own reality."

In 1996, John Spano decided it was time to give society a slap in the face, and he bought the New York Islanders hockey team. The problem was he had absolutely no money. We don't mean he was rich but not Mark Cuban rich; we mean he had NO MONEY.

Wikipedia
Even really terrible teams cost at least a couple thousand.

We understand his predicament. You start dropping hints to your friends about how successful your business is, and eventually you have to prove it. Normal people might lease a sports car or hire some classy-looking ladies just to hang out around you, but Spano took it to the next level.

After trying to buy the Dallas Stars and the Florida Panthers, he finally got somewhere with the Islanders. They were desperate for a new owner, which apparently meant that no one was interested in looking into his background too deeply. If they had, they would have discovered that Spano was a huge liar, and not necessarily a good one. Still, a couple forged documents were good enough for the owner of the team to sell to him.

While fans were treating him like a savior and chanting his name at games, Spano was busy avoiding that pesky $165 million he owed. He sent in a $17 million check, knowing full well it would bounce, then wired $1,700 and claimed there had been a mistake at the bank. Despite this being a con not even your landlord would fall for, it worked so well he did it again, sending $5,000 instead of $5 million.

Ryan McVay/Photodisc/Getty Images
Decimal point confusion was the cause of every economic crisis ever.

After months of this, the lawyers and banks involved realized that maybe this guy didn't have as much money as he said he did, and the previous owner took the team back.

Still, if some broke jerk managed to legally own a professional sports team for three months, just think of what you can accomplish. Reach for the stars, kids!

It's not a complete fabrication, he had really wanted to make the team in college. His classmates at the University Of New Hampshire remember him talking about how he was going play, and they remember him getting in shape for the season, but he never actually made the team. Within a decade, though, he was telling everyone how he had not only played football but lettered three years in a row. He told this story for the next 21 years, and it was included in all official biographies about him. No one even knows how many times it showed up in heartfelt halftime inspirational speeches to his team.

imdb.com
When this guy has a better record than you, you know it's bad.

Now, it's not like there is a rule that coaches have to be former players. But a coach recalling his past heroic achievements on the field is standard motivational fare. At some point in his career, George had taken his dreams of making the college team and turned them into a job. Oh, he also claimed he had a master's degree from NYU to no conceivable gain. Once you start lying sometimes it's just hard to stop yourself.

Of course, absolutely all of it was bullshit. No wartime heroics, no doctorate, no helping a lonely widow. Despite his obsession with Top Gun, he'd been an air traffic controller, not a fighter pilot. Perhaps most disgustingly, his supposedly dead parents were totally alive and living nearby. And since he wasn't any kind of black belt, people didn't have to worry about calling him out for his lies to his face.

Despite literally taking moments from military action movies and claiming they had happened to him, when confronted with all his lies, Papows' explanation was that his colleagues had taken his actual life story and expanded it into a "water-cooler legend," because they wanted him to seem like more of a hero.

Not content with being a badass outside his job, he also had to claim to be one in the technology world. Not only did he say that Bill Gates (the head of the competition) called him at home, he said that he once made fun of Gates so badly that the richest man in the world stormed off a stage.

Dimitrios Kambouris/Getty Images Entertainment/Getty
Here's the proof. Papows is in the middle, wearing his invisibility suit.

Watch George Costanza fail his way upward in every episode of Seinfeld, now streaming on Hulu.

Kathy Benjamin wrote a very funny book called FUNERALS TO DIE FOR, and you can buy it here. Or follow her on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter.