The Good/Bad/Downright Stupid Arguments of the World..
Discussion
BBenzzz said:
Right, for anyone who is in need of a bit of a laugh or just plain bored..
Let's see the best/worst/stupid/frustrating arguments you have ever had with anyone, be it online or in the flesh.
Fire away..
Oh I see! Just because my resting face makes me look a little glum, you think that means I'm bored? Well fLet's see the best/worst/stupid/frustrating arguments you have ever had with anyone, be it online or in the flesh.
Fire away..
k you!"Fire away"
What does that even mean?! People like you make me sick!
Childhood always brings out the best stupid arguments I feel, particularly at school.
In Year 6, we were allowed to start using fountain pens and ballpoint pens - as opposed to the Berol Handwriting Pens that you have to use before then.
The king of fountain pens to a child was the Parker Pen, which HAD to be kept in the special Parker Pen case - not the nice leather presentation case though, just the acrylic plastic case with the plastic formed base to hold the pen in. It was probably about £8 in WH Smiths, so a few weeks saved up pocket money. If you didn't have a Parker Pen, you weren't cool. But you then had to work out if your pen was the best, based on how many component parts it had to it that you could break down and count out. So the lid - one piece. Or was it the kind of lid where you could unscrew the top to take the little shirt clip bit off separately? That would then be 3 bits. The inner bit - was the nib removable, the ink cartridges, the little brass decoration ring that comes off when you unscrew it. How many bits could you make your pen into, when you are meant to be writing about Japan, or the Victorians? The pen case was of course counted that was 2 bits. I think my pen could be made into 13 "bits" which was good, but some you could make into 15 bits if it had space for spare ink cartridges inside. We would then argue over what was a "bit" for as long as we could before Mrs Hilton would tell us off for talking too much.
Also about the same time, there was an argument about "Who had the most accurate watch?"
For this to work, you had to have a digital watch of course, so you could precisely time when to re-set it to the second. Every single day for probably a month, I would make sure to turn Ceefax on the TV before school and wait for the clock to change to the next minute, with the aim to hit the reset button on my watch at the exact same time. I then could say, I had the most accurate watch - until my friend Mark said that HIS was more accurate because he used Big Ben to set it. I did not believe him at all. He said he had set it by Big Ben the day before (a Sunday) because his dad (who he never saw...) took him to London for a treat, he saw Big Ben and used that to set his watch really accurately. At the end of the school day, and I told him how late Mrs Hilton's clock in the classroom was, he would tell me it was a different amount wrong - "Its 3 minutes 14 seconds wrong" "No its actually 4 minutes 10 seconds wrong" etc etc - but anyway, at the end of the day, we were still arguing about this, and it got to the point where I had to try and run out of the gate faster to ask his mum if he really had been to London the day before, quicker than he could run to his mum to tell her to tell me that he had been to London. I still have the scar on my leg from where I swear he pushed me into the fence to slow me down...
In Year 6, we were allowed to start using fountain pens and ballpoint pens - as opposed to the Berol Handwriting Pens that you have to use before then.
The king of fountain pens to a child was the Parker Pen, which HAD to be kept in the special Parker Pen case - not the nice leather presentation case though, just the acrylic plastic case with the plastic formed base to hold the pen in. It was probably about £8 in WH Smiths, so a few weeks saved up pocket money. If you didn't have a Parker Pen, you weren't cool. But you then had to work out if your pen was the best, based on how many component parts it had to it that you could break down and count out. So the lid - one piece. Or was it the kind of lid where you could unscrew the top to take the little shirt clip bit off separately? That would then be 3 bits. The inner bit - was the nib removable, the ink cartridges, the little brass decoration ring that comes off when you unscrew it. How many bits could you make your pen into, when you are meant to be writing about Japan, or the Victorians? The pen case was of course counted that was 2 bits. I think my pen could be made into 13 "bits" which was good, but some you could make into 15 bits if it had space for spare ink cartridges inside. We would then argue over what was a "bit" for as long as we could before Mrs Hilton would tell us off for talking too much.
Also about the same time, there was an argument about "Who had the most accurate watch?"
For this to work, you had to have a digital watch of course, so you could precisely time when to re-set it to the second. Every single day for probably a month, I would make sure to turn Ceefax on the TV before school and wait for the clock to change to the next minute, with the aim to hit the reset button on my watch at the exact same time. I then could say, I had the most accurate watch - until my friend Mark said that HIS was more accurate because he used Big Ben to set it. I did not believe him at all. He said he had set it by Big Ben the day before (a Sunday) because his dad (who he never saw...) took him to London for a treat, he saw Big Ben and used that to set his watch really accurately. At the end of the school day, and I told him how late Mrs Hilton's clock in the classroom was, he would tell me it was a different amount wrong - "Its 3 minutes 14 seconds wrong" "No its actually 4 minutes 10 seconds wrong" etc etc - but anyway, at the end of the day, we were still arguing about this, and it got to the point where I had to try and run out of the gate faster to ask his mum if he really had been to London the day before, quicker than he could run to his mum to tell her to tell me that he had been to London. I still have the scar on my leg from where I swear he pushed me into the fence to slow me down...
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