Oodles of Noodles

You don’t know me. You think you do, but you’re clearly wrong. They know me, he knows me, she knows me, and she definitely knows me, but you just characterize me. I told you who I am, but you formed your own opinion. I lie to you. I make up stories because you get excited over them. I lie to you about where I’ve been, who I was with, and what we were and weren’t doing. I don’t really like you, I just keep you around to boost my ego. Can you guess who you are?