Things my Girlfriend and I have Argued About.Com

I'm well aware that often when someone describes crying with laughter at something they've read, others will not find it at all amusing.

This is partly because written humour is cumulative. You get to the point of hysteria not because of the excellently crafted phrase in itself, but because you have spent pages entering the author's world, so that when the laughter-trigger is encountered, you respond in exactly the right manner.

I was delighted to find today a website I used to read quite a few years ago. It's called www.thingsmygirlfriendandihavearguedabout.com, and it's exactly what it says on the tin.

And even though the readers of my blog may not be on the same wavelength as I am right now, because you haven't read loads of the stuff as I have, I'm still going to cut-and-paste some of the items which made me chortle.

Longsuffering journalist Mil Millington describes the arguments he has had living with his German girlfriend Margret:

"We have argued about:

• The way one should cut a Kiwi Fruit in half (along its length or across the middle).
• The best way to hang up washing.
• Those little toothpaste speckles you make when you brush your teeth in front of the mirror.
• I eat two-fingered Kit-Kats like I'd eat any other chocolate bars of that size, i.e., without feeling the need to snap them into two individual fingers first. Margret accused me of doing this, 'deliberately to annoy her'.
• Which way - the distances were identical - to drive round a circular bypass (this resulted in her kicking me in the head from the back seat as I drove along).
• When I'm driving the car, Margret reaches across and operates the indicator. At the distance from the turn that she considers to be appropriate, she'll lean over and flick the indicator lever on. How annoying is that, ladies and gentlemen?

"A Few Concepts Margret Continues To Have Trouble Assimilating:

• It's possible to stop buying plants.
• Can you please leave me alone, I'm on the lavatory.
• Ikea is just another shop.
• I asked you if you wanted any, I asked you - now stop eating it off my plate.
• One may have a thought and not say it. This does not make me insular, it merely separates me from you and that mad woman who's always shouting at the pigeons outside the supermarket.
• They're just nail clippings. Nail clippings must be the most inert thing on the planet, how can anyone seriously have a problem with nail clippings? You might as well freak out with, 'Bleuuuurrggh - helium!' Really - just get a hold of yourself. So you've walked barefoot across the bathroom and you find this has resulted in a nail clipping or two sticking to the bottom of your foot; well, simply brush them off into the bin - they're just nail clippings.

"There are certain verbal shortcuts to a lot of our arguments. Sure, we could ease into things, build up momentum slowly, but that's so wasteful when you can fit in three arguments in the time the slow-burn approach would take to brew only one. So, we often favour more of a dragster-style, zero-to-argument in 1 second approach. Thus, over the years, ways of ensuring a spitting, scratching row with just one sentence have been polished to a high shine.

For example, Margret once said to me, 'Am I your favourite woman in the world?'

The world? I mean, really."