Monday, 11 December 2017

How To Argue Like A Cunt

No-one likes to lose a verbal argument so here are a few tips in order to always come out on top, by basically being a Cunt.

1. Ignoring

The backbone of Cuntishness in any argument is pretending you didn’t hear what the other person (or people) just said. This means you can carry on lamenting the dishes not being washed, the lawn not being mowed, or how you and your spouse are “totally incompatible” even if they’ve just come up with a humdinger of a conversation stopper that would, if acknowledged, put an end to the discussion once and for all. End of the day, if you concede defeat you will still be angry with no legitimate outlet for that anger. Therefore the best option is to simply turn both deaf ears to anything that successfully contradicts your point. 

“I put it back after I used it.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t put it back!”

2. Taking Things Out Of Context

Another juicy ploy when you are determined to vent your spleen without the bothersome annoyance of actually being proved wrong, is to twist what someone said and take it out of context. This works best on the Arguing Inept who may foolishly say things that can be taken one of several ways. In order to be an Uber Cunt, you should deliberately take the interpretation that works best for you.

“Alright! Alright! (usually while holding palms up in a supplicatory gesture).

3. Pretending What They Said Had Hidden Meaning

Only for the seasoned arguer, this is a ploy that only the most Cunty will be able to utilise successfully. When the other person manages to get a word in edgeways you will listen, like a safecracker with a pair of earphones to the door, and then leap rabidly on what they said, purposely assuming they meant more than they did.

“You’re not listening to me” (meaning ‘You don’t understand me”).
“YOU’RE RIGHT I’M NOT LISTENING TO YOU (meaning ‘I’m not listening to you arguing with me’)
“I’m not complaining!” (meaning ‘I actually agree with your point’).
“I SHOULD THINK YOU’RE NOT! (meaning ‘How dare you complain!”)

This works well if combined with point 1 because if the person then says something that CANNOT be assumed to have hidden meaning (e.g. “I think you’re right!”) you can simply pretend that you didn’t hear it and carry on ranting. Go you!

4. Refusing To Be Interrupted

As used by Cunty politicians and teachers at Secondary school for years. While we all know it’s polite to actually let the person you are screaming at have their say, you will barely pause for breath in your quest for Cuntdom, as you bulldoze your way through a diatribe of personal insults and shouting. For best effect speak super quickly. This then leads neatly into…

5. Going Temporarily Deaf & Gazing Furiously And/ Or Silently Into The Middle Distance

You are determined to get that gold star of a champion Cunt, so you will, after ranting and screaming at someone (for best effect also beat the table/ wall/ back of the sofa with your fist and maybe even cry) you will then become as deaf as a doorpost make no audible sign, nor facial tick to signify that you have heard a word that this person is now trying to say to you. You will also look anywhere except at them with a look of fury painted across your brow (usually look slightly the left or right from where they are).After all, if you don’t acknowledge that you heard them say it, then they can’t prove that they actually said it. God you’re a super Cunt.

6. Disliking Being Anticipated

A spin off of point 5, this is to be used when you START an argument (as most Cunts do) and is where the person you are having a go at makes it quite clear that they know exactly what you are about to say so pre-emptively interrupts you with evidence that proves you wrong. Combined with 1, 4 and 5 this a powerful tool for an aspiring Cunt.

“That chef at the restaurant you used to work at says…”
“I know what he says and he’s lying!”
(Invoking points 1 and 4) “That chef at the restaurant…”
(Invoking the Silent part of point 5 for a few seconds until they are sure you have let your guard down, then…) “THATCHEFATTHERESTAURANTYOUUSEDTOWORKATSAYSYOUWEREFIRED!!!”

7. Believing Hearsay

It’s NEVER a good thing in any relationship to believe hearsay over the (sometimes tearful) denials of your nearest and dearest. However those aspiring to an Honours Degree in Being Cunty will believe everything and anything that random people not only said but are SAID TO HAVE SAID. For bonus Cunt points try and make it less of “He said she said” and get as many people in the chain as you can. I am privileged to have witnessed first hand the Cuntishness of “She said that she said that he said”.

“My friend’s daughter told my friend that her boss told her that you were fired from that restaurant”. 

8. Citing Retaliation As An Unprovoked Attack

A great one to be used to really ramp up the Cunt volume to 11. This is basically a form of bullying as it makes it clear that you sole purpose in ranting abuse at the other person is to merely make yourself feel better, and not out of any real desire to reach a compromise on two opposing viewpoints. 

(After silently taking it for over 15 minutes). “OH FUCK OFF, FOR FUCKS’ SAKE!!!”

9. Blaming Them For Having Let You Get Your Own Way

This only works retrospectively and is the nuclear bomb of a Cunty Arguer. It should be saved for those occasions when your back is well and truly to the wall and you have categorically been proved wrong. In order to save face and retain your status as an enormous Cunt you should blame either the person you are arguing with or someone else for having had the temerity to let you get your own way in the first place.

“I was waiting for someone to tell me to stop it!”
“Come again?”
“I don’t know if you remember this but there was one time where you said ‘If you’re going to be stupid I’m not going to talk to you any more’ and you walked off and stood in the lounge. Well…that’s what you ALWAYS should have done!”

10. Take Offence At Every Fucking Thing

The Lord High Commander of Cunts will know this one. It’s a last ditch attempt and should only be used by an experienced Cunt. No matter what the other person says, and no matter how ludicrous your objection to it is, you must retain a straight face and look deeply hurt at whatever they said. I have been privileged to witness not one but TWO Cunty outbursts of this type from an argumentative Cunt who was determined to kick the hornets’ nest.

“How would you know what a kick in the testicles feels like? You’re not a man.”
(With lower lip trembling) “That’s rather insulting! You don’t know what I’ve done in my life!”
“How do you know what it’s like in space, you’ve never been an astronaut!”
“That’s rather insulting isn’t it? You don’t know what I’ve done before you were born!”

So there you have it. 10 Life Hacks on how to argue like a big, fat, colossal Cunt.

Thursday, 30 November 2017

The Match: Extract from Soggy Semolina *Out Now*

Extract from my latest book SOGGY SEMOLINA, available on Amazon Kindle and in paperback.

A tale of 1970s school days in a Catholic convent.


The Match

There were many things that were drummed into me as a child that I absolutely should not and could not do. Talking to strangers was about number one and Charley, TV’s gravel mouthed cat would constantly meow at us to, “always tell your mummy before you go off somewhere." 

Not returning to fireworks once lit was almost as serious (and putting them in another boy’s parka hood and then pulling the hood up was in a whole new world of evil). Looking both ways before crossing the road was explained to us in patient detail, first by Tufty the squirrel and later by the Green Cross Code Man. 

On the list of “smacked bottom and go to bed” behaviour, the one that caused me the most grief at St Mary’s was playing with matches. Both at home and at school it had been drummed into me that playing with matches was incredibly naughty and would result in punishments above and beyond a smack and a tearful trip up to my bedroom. The Dreadful Tale of Harriet and the Matches made it quite clear what piddling around with them could do and we, by and large, kept away.


When I was about 5, a lad in my class called Jason lived in the same village and caught the same bus with me every day. We decided to be a bit daring and had an agreement that we’d light a match if we found one lying on the floor. The one who found it would hand it to the other, who had the responsibility of lighting it. Great plan…that I never really thought would ever come to fruition.

One morning about quarter to nine, we were hanging around in the playground outside F1 waiting for the bell to tell us we could go in, and Jason called me over. A big grin on his face he was holding a match he’d found on the floor. We’d found others in the past but they were always too soggy to light or had been used before. “Cor!” I exclaimed. “You want me to light it?”

He nodded and I took it from him. Next to F1’s door was a grill in the brick wall and we went over to it, I rubbed the match on the bricks, half expecting it not to ignite but hey presto! The flame shot up and lit up the end of the stick. I then threw it in the grill and as it didn’t go out I blew on it hard and the flame was snuffed out, smoke drifting back out towards me. I turned to Jason and he grinned at me. Mission accomplished. We felt exhilarated. 

We stood there talking about it, me saying that I’d been worried about the paper in the grill being lit up when I threw the match in, or that me blowing on it wouldn’t put it out. Jason said he thought I wouldn’t have the courage to do it. Just then some older boys walked past.

“What you talking about?” one of them enquired and with big smiles on our faces we told them all about what we’d just done.

The lad grinned and then shook his head solemnly. “Oh dear…oh dear, oh dear. That’s very naughty." 

Our faces fell.

The lad turned to his mate and said “John will you go and tell Mr Laverty? I’ll wait here to make sure they don’t run away."

“What? But we…I…It was his idea!” I protested, pointing at Jason.

Jason’s face went white and he shot back. “You lighted it!”

John grinned and walked off up the playground to the main doors of school. Two of the others stand near to us, bracketing us in so we can’t try and get away. Me and Jason start crying. “Please I’m sorry, don’t tell Mr Laverty” I snivel at them.

They are all smiling and one shakes his head then says “I don’t want to tell Mr Laverty, but you see I have to."

Jason is crying too, his shoulders heaving. He says to them “Lance lighted it, not me."

“Yes but you BOTH did it, you were there. Did you try and stop him?” Jason shakes his head. “Well there you are then.”

I see John disappear inside the main building and I am scared. Not only is this being kicked upstairs to the second scariest teacher in the whole school but it is something so naughty that the least we can expect is a hard smack and our mummies and daddies being told. Lighting matches is dangerous, we knew that. Oh why did we have to be so stupid? I try once more. “Please don’t tell Mr Laverty, we won’t do it again.”

The lad, still grinning, says “I know you won’t but like I said, I HAVE to tell him even though I don’t want to."

John then re-emerges, his grin threatening to split his face open and walks back to us, theatrically throwing his arms out to his sides and shrugging. “He’s not there” he tells everyone.

“Can we go now?” I ask hopefully. 

“Nope, he might come back in a minute.”

I cry even more, tears running down my face, the fear eating into me. The lad then says “Where are you two from?”

“Bishops Itchington.”

“Nice?” I nod, hoping his friendly line of banter will make him forget telling on me to a 5 year old’s equivalent of Tomas de Torquemada.

“You come in by bus or does your daddy bring you?”

“On the bus” I say. I look at Jason. “We both do.”

“Oh…” the lad replies then puts a hand on my shoulder and one on Jason’s and says to the other friend he’s with. “Adam, can you go and see if Mr Laverty has come back yet?” I start to cry even louder, my hopes of clemency dashed. 

The lad, still smirking, says again “I don’t want to tell on you, you see but I HAVE to."

Adam quickly re-emerges and comes back, saying like John, “He’s still not there.” All the boys then turn away from us and laugh, spluttering loudly then manage to regain their composure, just as the bell rings. 

Adam shakes his head. “You’re very lucky. Good job we couldn’t find Mr Laverty. You won’t light any more matches will you?”

I shake my head vigorously. “No, we won’t I promise."

“Good." The three older boys walk off and after about five steps crack up laughing again and I hear one of them say “That was brilliant."

As I go to walk into F1, hoping Mrs Pearson won’t notice that I’ve been upset, I’m intercepted by Christopher. He looks cross. “Lance did you just light a match?” I’m scared that he knows and realise that as we are not best friends any appeals to his better nature not to Tell on me will rely solely on what type of mood he’s in.

“Yes, you won’t tell Mr Laverty will you?”

He ponders this for a second, still glaring at me then replies solemnly “Well…I won’t but if the whole school blows up then I’m going to tell Mr Laverty.” I sit at my desk, the fear and dread slowly dissipating until I’m calm again. I half expect Jason to throw himself on the mercy of the school and confess to Mrs Pearson but he keeps quiet. By about dinnertime I realised I was in the clear and relaxed again, vowing to never touch another unlit match in my life.

For about the next two years up until I was in F3, Jason would hold this incident over my head as a tool if I ever did anything that annoyed him. Where there was conflict over toys, book privileges or I simply said something he didn’t like he would point at me and say “I’m telling on you because you lighted that match”, at which point I’d go all quiet and look away, trying to become invisible for a while.