The Silliest Arguments I’ve Had With My Partner

Why, hello there. Fancy meeting you here. Is that a new shirt? How’s your significant other/family pet? Okay, now that the awkward small talk is out of the way, let’s get cracking!

I recently read the most hilarious thread on Reddit about the silliest arguments couples have had with their other halves. It got me thinking about my lovely other half, and our famously petty arguments. So here, for your viewing (er, reading?) pleasure, are the stupidest arguments that we’ve had (or continually have) throughout our relationship:

DISCLAIMER: 90% of the time, Jack and I are normal people who get on better than 1980’s Oprah and a Twinkie. Sometimes we disagree. And it’s ridiculous. Prepare to judge us.

1.I was once watching a programme about a man with a pet hippopotamus. The man fed the hippo litres of coffee everyday. Jack laughed and said ‘she reminds me of you’. He meant because she’s seriously addicted to coffee but since I had a bigger case of PMS than Bill O’ Reilly on his own show, I freaked out because I basically thought he was calling me a hippo. There was a lot of tearful ‘WHY DON’T I JUST GO LIVE IN THE RIVER’s before I finally calmed down and realised that meh, hippos are awesome anyway.

 

2.Conversely, I once called him ‘my little badger’ on account of his greying hair, which FYI, I LOVE. Turns out I meant Silver Fox. Fox, badger…what’s the real difference amirite?! *Nervous laugh*

3.I had a dream that he cheated on me with Rita Ora and honestly I couldn’t even look at him the next day. Now when I see her on TV, I actively hiss.

4.I woke him up from a dream where he was chopping wood with Steve Guttenberg and it was ‘the best dream ever’ and I ‘ruined it.’ How do I even apologise for that?!

5.He threw my stuffed owl toy in an old box and he got dirty. Hooty was never quite the same after that. *stares sadly into the distance*

6.I beat him at chess and just before I checkmated his ass, he flipped the board over. He says he “fell” but who karate chops a chess board as they’re falling?!

7.I make him apologise to our pets when he gets snarky with them. The dog knows when he’s being sarcastic.

8.When we play video games and he kills any animals. MONSTER.

9.When I don’t listen. Here’s an example:

Jack: Love, did you hear Leonard Nimoy died?

Me: Uh-huh.

*2 hours later*

Me: Oh no! Leonard Nimoy died!

Cue much disgruntled tutting and eye rolling. 

10. When he throws his clothes on the floor. He has a wardrobe and a laundry basket RIGHT THERE but oh no, the floor seems as good a place as any for his clothes. *Deep breath from inhaler*

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11. When he farts and deliberately closes all the windows in the car, or wafts the smell towards my unsuspecting and delicate nose. Animal.

12. When he “honks” my boobs. IT HURTS.

13. His procrastination is so bad that he makes Hamlet look like John McClane. I’ve forgiven him because he has just inspired me to write the greatest screenplay of all time, which may or may not involve a Shakespearean-Die Hard crossover. *Scribbles furiously on notepad*

14. When it’s his turn to cook, I can see him in the kitchen manically over-seasoning everything. I don’t want to sound high maintenance so I tentatively ask ‘um, are you sure the steaks need that much salt and pepper?’ and he’ll tell me he used a ‘pinch’ even though I’ve seen him twist the pepper grinder like a genius kid on TV works a Rubik’s Cube.

 

 

15. I have a habit of unintentionally figuring out the endings of mystery/horror films. I say something like ‘I’ve got it now. I know who killed the gardener!’ For about twenty seconds, there’ll be a silence and then an exasperated sigh as he says ‘fiiiine. Who did it?’ I explain that it was clearly the chimney sweep, because he suddenly got that fancy new rake and sweeping brush set. Obvs.

16. I’m almost always on the other line when he’s trying to call me for something important. In my defence, hearing my friend’s dog howl the theme tune to Baywatch is pretty important. Jack can pull himself out of a car wreckage. HE HAS TWO HANDS. Sheesh.

17. Whether cheese is the ambrosia of the gods or a curdled block of unspeakable malevolence.

18. We in Ireland have several words for a hair tie or thin scrunchie. I say ‘bobble’, he says ‘bobbin’. BOBBLE/BOBBIN, LET’S CALL THE WHOLE THING OFF!

19. He wants to put items of clothing on the cat. The cat (and her very over-protective mother) don’t approve.

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Yes, that’s my cat. In a fez. She also has a duffel coat.

20. I like to drink pint glasses of milk, which he thinks is weird. He eats his pasta and sauce straight from the saucepan with no plate, but sure, I’m the weird one. At least I’m weird with strong bones. So there. 

I wish I could say this is it, but there’s so many more. The important thing is that he is amazing and we love each other and CLOTHES DO NOT BELONG ON THE FLOOR….I mean, you know….true love.

Do you have any petty arguments you’d like to share? Unload in the comments!

 

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My Boyfriend is as weird as I am

For anyone who thinks I’m weird (hello!) my boyfriend, Jack, is at least 73% weirder than me. This just happened:

Jack walks into the living room while I’m watching TV, and I don’t look at him but I can feel that he wants me to look at him. He walks past me a few times and clears his throat.

He’s wearing a medium length black coat and a scarf. Jack isn’t really the scarf wearing type, particularly in mild weather, so he looks different than normal. I have to say, he looks very handsome and fashionable in his coat and scarf. The thing is, I can tell he is self conscious. He’s the sort of guy who doubts his fashion choices and who needs reassurance. He also overthinks everything.

He clears his throat again.

“What do you think?”
“Lovely.”
“Really?”
“Yeah…but what have you got it on for now? We aren’t going anywhere tonight.”
“Yeah…erm, I might go for a walk just…around.”

Now reader, this might seem perfectly normal but Jack and I never walk anywhere from our home. You see, we live a few kilometres from a forest park, so we always drive there for our walks instead. Hence, Jack going for a walk alone at night from our house is not a regular occurrence.

“Erm, why would you do that?” I ask.
The thing is, I already know the answer. Jack knows he looks handsome in his coat and much like a child who gets a new Ironman tshirt, he wants to show it off.

“I’m just…bored.”

There’s a silence.

“Does my coat really look nice?” he asks again, adjusting the sleeves. Before I can answer, he asks another question: “Do you think it’s too early in the year to wear a coat?”

Since I’m watching one of the last episodes of How I Met Your Mother, I’m not really paying adequate attention to Jack. I just shrug.

“It’s just…I don’t wanna go out wearing a coat if I look like a douche.”

“Mmm.”

“Maybe we could watch the news? If the reporters are wearing coats and scarves then maybe I can too?”

“I’m not changing the channel, love.”

“Right. Will ya just check the temperature there on your phone?”

I reluctantly check, silently worrying that my weirdness is contagious and I have seriously infected Jack.

“It’s thirteen degrees.”

“That’s cold, right?”

“I’d say it’s more…mild.”

“Ah, damn it.”

And then all I see is Jack flouncing out of the room, dramatically ripping off his coat. He still hasn’t come back downstairs.

He’s adorable.

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He looked a little like this, except it wasn’t a duffel coat…and he’s not a cat.

This is the kind of relationship we have…part deux

Yesterday, I bought myself a lot of some chocolate. Not just any chocolate mind you, Galaxy chocolate. Galaxy is so fancy and tasty that before I eat it, I pour it a glass of wine and light some candles. You can’t just scoff this chocolate, you have to be nice to it.

I decided to save it for Saturday night, where I was going to sit femininely cross legged and eat each square one by one, all sexy like. LOL, joke, this was totally the plan:

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Instead, something terrible happened. Now readers, I must prepare you. You won’t want to see chocolate like this but it’s necessary for my story. I got up in the morning and found my chocolate like this:

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Turns out, Jack had decided that it was far too much for one person and had taken half of it. I can’t describe the feeling of betrayal that swept through me. I decided to deal with the thievery in the only way I know how: sending Jack a barrage of angry owl memes.

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http://cheezburger.com/6426246400

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Naturally, I expected Jack to be terrified. You know, because…angry owls. Instead, he sent me this:

“This is what I’m imagining you doing right now Jane”:

Asshat.

My boyfriend is also weird

“Oh dear God, what’s that?!”

“Hmm?”

“Hon, there’s something…THERE’S SOMETHING CRAWLING ON MY FRICKIN’ AAAARRRM!”

“Eh?”

“THERE’S SOMETHING FLYING ABOVE MY HEEEAAADD!”

“It’s just a moth, Jane. I saw it before I turned off the light.”

“A moth? What if he, I don’t know, hatches eggs in my hair? Or falls into my mouth?”

“What if he hatches eggs? There’s so much wrong with that sentence I don’t know where to start.”

“I’m serious Jack. I won’t be able to
sleep now. What if he is crawling on the ceiling and falls on me? Eurgh, I can hear him flapping around the room.”

“Hey, you remember the moths they took out of the corpses in The Silence of the Lambs?

“Really Jack? REALLY? That’s what your going to talk about? Why aren’t you defending my honour against this blatant home invasion?”

“Just do what you do with the spiders.”

“Scream uncontrollably and run through the nearest window?”

“No. You give him a name to make him less scary.”

“Huh. That’s not a bad idea. But what do you call a moth?”

“You obviously call a moth Ti-MOTH-y. Timothy. Get it? Hahaha.
Man, I’m funny…Jane?….Jane?”

“Sorry, I’m kind of in awe of you right now.”

What I caught my boyfriend doing when I came home from work early today…

On Thursdays, I only have classes in the morning and then in the evening. Usually I stay behind in school and get some corrections done during my free afternoon, but today I decided to come home for lunch to surprise Jack.

As I walked in the door of our home, I couldn’t help but feel something was amiss. The atmosphere in the house was strange, tense even. I called his name but he didn’t respond. Then I heard him talking to someone. He sounded frustrated.

“No, it’s easy! You do this…How have you not got the hand of this yet?” I followed his terse tone to the kitchen….

…where I found him with our cat, Billie. He had attached the dog’s leash to her collar and she looked none too pleased; her eyes seemed to say “mam, help me.”

“Jack, what are you doing?” I asked him, keeping a safe distance.

“I’m teaching the cat how to walk on a leash.”

There was a silence.

“Um, shouldn’t you be working on your PhD?”

As I was talking to him, he was still negotiating with the cat. “Come on Billie, you can do it. There’s a sachet of whiskas in this for you.”

He looked at me. “Sometimes, I just need to take a break from my thesis, or I go kind of mad.”

Erm, ya don’t say Jack.

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My very photogenic cat

Q&A with my boyfriend

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Er, hi. Is this awkward?

Er, yes…it is. Will I break dance?

Erm, no thanks.

What do you think of my blog?

What’s a blog? Haha. See, I can be funny too. It’s pretty great, keep going.

Do you mind that I write (mostly nice) things about you?

I especially like the post where you said I am incredibly handsome, virile, witty, intelligent, athletic, Adonis-like…

Jack, I never wrote that.

Yeah, I know. Hint hint.

What did you really do with the remote?
(A few years ago, our remote “mysteriously” vanished. Jack denies having anything to do with it but he lies as good as he break-dances, which is not good at all. Anyway, because we’re lazy we still haven’t replaced it.)

Look baby, the remote is gone. And like the corpse of Jimmy Hoffa, no one knows where. Just let it go.

Tell my lovely loyal followers a little about yourself.

Um, I like pie. I’m not good at this. I’m definitely not afraid of the dark. Not even slightly. Not one. Little. Bit.

You’re doing a PhD. How’s that going?

It’s going really well actually. Just yesterday, I discovered that America’s relative power positi….oh, you were just being polite when you asked? Awkward.

No, no… I really care and stuff.

Important question: Which Backstreet Boy is your favourite?

The one that wore the bandanas. They made him automatically cool.

His name is AJ Jack, stop pretending you don’t know.

What goes through your mind when I wear my onesie?

All kinds of conflicting emotions.


What’s the best thing you’ve ever done?

You. Hahaha, seriously, I kill me.
If my mother is reading this, then receiving an education.

It’s not the oscars, Jack, I’m sure she’ll never see this. Does that sound snarky? Sorry. Iloveyou.

Sum up your life in one word:

Trumanshow-esque.

I bet I can make you laugh. Remember Nicolas Cage in the remake of Wicker Man? NOT THE BEES! Did it work?

Can’t type, still laughing.

Thanks for taking part Jack. Now go clean the dishes…haha, I’m totally joking, it’s not like he’s my slave, *awkward nervous laugh* right Jack…Jack?

15 THINGS I LEARNED FROM LIVING WITH A GUY

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Growing up, many of my closest friends were guys. This led me to erroneously assume that I knew what it would be like to live with one. Oho, was I wrong. Here are fifteen things I’ve learned from cohabiting with a real boy:

1. Men care about their appearance just as much as women. I once told Jack that a coat he had made him look like Paddington Bear. He never wore it again, even though I did mean it as a compliment. Who doesn’t love bears?

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2. Men will never, ever initiate cleaning the house. Yes, even if it resembles a landfill and there are seagulls living in your kitchen.

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3. If there’s left-over pizza crust and beer in the fridge, men do not understand the need to go grocery
shopping.

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4. When their man-cave workspace becomes messy, men will insist that “they have a system” and work best “in chaos”. Riiiight.

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5. When you insist on cleaning up, men will inevitable compare you to your mother.

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6. Watching reruns of ‘Cops’ is a perfectly acceptable way to spend an entire weekend if you’re a guy. Actually, I’m with you guys on this one, it’s amazing.

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7. The Playstation must never be turned off without the express permission of your man friend lest you ruin an important mission in GTA V.

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8. When a man does clean, it involves shoving things under any large pieces of furniture such as the bed/couch/armchairs. It also involves spraying insane and possibly hallucination-inducing amounts of Febreeze.

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9. Dorito sandwiches are a perfectly nutritious meal according to a man.

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10. In the absence of other males, men will tell you about their trips to the bathroom because, well, it’s apparently in our best interests to know these things.

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11. Men will never allow you to call a repair man because they will claim to be able to fix anything. RIP toaster, hairdryer, oven, cooker, sense of safety in my own home.

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12. Sniffing articles of clothing is a perfectly acceptable way to check if said clothing is good for another few days. According to Jack, it’s always good.

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13. Men need as much hoarded crap as possible to thrive. That collection of lollipop sticks? They’re gonna make a neat pencil holder someday. The broken lamp shade? What if the dog ever needs an improvised head cone? It all makes sense in their heads.

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14. Cooking? Pah, that’s a girl’a job. Barbecuing? Now there’s a man’s speciality. Grr, fire, grr, raw meat, grrrrr.

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15. A man will use your female products (moisturiser, cleansing wipes, body lotion) but you must never admit that you know this nor must you ever, under any circumstances, tell ANYONE. Oh, wait…crap. Sorry Jack, guess the Nivea day cream is out of the makeup bag.

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So there you have it. Any men that have become offended by this, well I’m sorry. Come join our ‘Cops’ marathon.