I'm always right. I'm not saying that to brag, it's just a fact. It isn't that I THINK I'm always right, it's that I actually AM always right. The reason for this is simple: Unless I know for absolute fact that the information I am imparting is correct, I don't waste my time arguing about it. That cuts my chances of being wrong down considerably. If I think I'm right but I'm not entirely sure, I will preface my statement with, "Don't quote me on this, but I THINK..." and when someone provides me with the correct information, I store it for future reference.
It's a good plan, people. It works for me. (Maury Show participants need to take notes. If you're not actually 100% sure he's the daddy, don't insist that you are. Say, "I think he's the daddy, but don't quote me on this." You'll look wayyyy less stupid wayyyyyyyy more often.)
Dan, on the other hand, is not burdened with the need to have accurate information. He is of the ilk who THINKS he's right but usually isn't. His determination to be right comes with blow-hard proclamations of rightness, insistence of his rightness, and a need to prove said rightness. The proving of the said rightness is usually where his plan goes horribly awry.
Dan and I argue about really stupid shit. To the outside viewer it probably appears that we're minutes away from killing each other but in truth, we're just enjoying ourselves. Dan loves to argue and loves to be right and it's his personal quest in life to prove me wrong, at least once, before he dies. I, at the same time, can't resist a legitimate opportunity to prove him wrong. Which I do frequently. Win-win, y'all.
I'm all about giving people what they want, but he's yet to actually prove me wrong. I give him mad props for effort.
Last night, just as we were heading to bed, this happened (prepare to be shocked, awed, and amazed at the complete assinine-ness of the crap we consider argument worthy... it truly is astounding):
Dan: *One second after we turned off the tv because we were both too tired to stay up and watch Pawn Stars* "Okay, trivia question: who was the lead singer for The Band?"
(Backstory: Literally two seconds previously we had been watching American Pickers so I had absolutely no frame of reference. None. Zero. From a vintage scooter to music trivia, just like that.)
Me: *stupidly, because I had no friggin' idea what he was talking about* "Huh?"
Dan: "Who was the lead singer for The Band?"
Me: "What band?"
Dan: *because he thrives on this shit* "The Band."
Me: *hearing crickets chirping in my head*
Dan: *because he is a One Trick Pony* "The Band."
Me: "All I hear is 'blah blah blah.' What the hell are you talking about?"
Dan: "The Band. You know, the song The Weight?"
Me: "Huh?" (It was late, I was tired, and Ambien may or may not have been involved.)
Dan: "The Weight. You know, the song The Weight. Sung by The Band."
Me: *goldfish swimming back and forth in front of my eyes while a hamster ran on a squeaky little wheel in my head*
Dan: "The Weight."
Me: "I heard you. I have no friggin' idea what you're talking about."
Dan: "You know, the song The Weight? Take a load off, Fannie.."
Me: *lightbulb finally turning on in my head* "Ohhhhhhhhh okay, I was thinking The WAIT, like W-A-I-T, and I didn't realize you meant actually THE BAND. Oh, and also? It's "take a load off, Annie."
Dan: "Fannie. Take a load off, Fannie."
Me: "Annie."
Dan: *singing, to make his point* "Take a load off, FANNIE..."
Me: "Whatever, but it's Annie."
By this time we had peed, brushed our teeth, and gotten into bed. Lights were off, dogs were in place, and I could barely keep my eyes open.
Dan: "It's take a load off, FANNIE. Don't make me prove you wrong."
Me: *mumbling into my pillow and beginning to drool* "You can't prove me wrong. It's Annie. It just IS. No matter how hard you want to prove it's Fannie, you can't. Because it isn't. It isn't, because it's Annie. Every time, it's gonna be Annie. G'night..."
Dan: "Fannie, it's take a load off, FANNIE."
Me: *sighing* "Dan, it just sounds like Fannie because the word "off" ends in an "f" and Annie starts with an A, so they blend together. It's not rocket science. It's ANNIE."
Dan: *getting out of bed and hot-footing it to the living room to grab his laptop* "I'm going to prove it to you. It's Fannie,"
Me: "What you're going to prove is that you shouldn't argue with me when I actually know what I'm talking about."
Dan: *staring at his laptop really, really quietly*
Me:
Dan: *still staring quietly at his laptop while frantically scrolling*
Me: "You can scroll until the cows come home but it's still going to be Annie."
Dan:
Me:
Dan: "You suck."
There's nothing like drifting off to sleep with the taste of RIGHT in your mouth.
He'll never learn, bless his heart.
And I have no idea what the answer to his original trivia question is.
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