The smiking pope

Have you ever been caught up in an argument and said things you didn’t mean? I don’t mean the ‘I hate you’ type of thing. I mean literally saying things wrong. I don’t argue often but when I do, I sometimes get a bit mixed up with my words in the heat of the moment.

My most memorable occasion was when I was having an argument with someone, I forget who now, a friend maybe, which was probably going something like this:
“No, you said I was your best friend and now I just heard someone saying that you told them they were your best friend.” (Already you can see, I only argued when there was something really serious going on.)
“No, I was best friends with them but that was last week, because, right, you weren’t speaking to me then because I didn’t sit next to you in Biology.”
“Yeh, you didn’t sit next to me in Biology. I can’t believe that.” (Feeling a bit hard done by, evidently.)
“But that’s cause you told Charlotte that she was your best friend so I was in a bad mood.”
“No, I didn’t! I don’t even know where you got that from.”
“I read in yours and Charlotte’s letter book.” (A letter book, for those who don’t know, is just a book in which you and the other members of the letter book, each take the book home and write a letter. Its tends include subject matters such as boys or celebs you fancy, who you’re not speaking to, what your new favourite song is, etc.)

And now, for the grand finale. I’d obviously learned this phrase recently and had been waiting for an opportunity to use it.

“I don’t even have a letter book with Charlotte so that’s lies. Put that in your pope and smike it!”

There was a pause, I realised I’d got it wrong but it was too late now. I still had a point to prove so couldn’t laugh with said friend and make a joke. So I did the best thing I could in the situation.

“Yeah!” I said, meaningfully, then stormed off, turned a corner and burst out laughing. I never asked if the mistake was spotted but I’ve always remembered that moment where I was like, “O no, what do I do?” and just coming up with “Yeah!” and walking off.

In other news, I recently found out the origin of the word ‘artichoke’ (Blog no.3 ‘Artichoke and Celeriac’). It’s an Arabic word, which started out as ‘al-kharshuf’ and was introduced during the reign of Henry VIII. Fair enough, it’s a bit more of a legitimate word now, but I’m still never going to eat it.

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