My brother does this when he thinks he’s right: “Yeah, and who broke the washing machine?” (I was nine and unjustly accused and convicted.) Still pisses me off.
There’s a level of stupidity there that’s pretty frightening.
Last week, I had a completely bizarre conversation at work, where someone had an appt with me at 2pm but didn’t show up until 2:09. He kept insisting he was not late. He even said, “You’re not going to pin this on me!” and went through the trouble of showing me his ticket from the building’s parking garage that showed he entered the garage at 2:02, thereby proving that he was not late for a 2pm appointment.
Huh?
Then a few days later, it happened again, when someone acknowledged showing up at 3:08, but that did not mean that she was late for a 3pm appointment.
(In case anyone is wondering, there is no “house rule” that one can show up late. It’s a regular business, where an appointment at 2pm means that the session starts at 2pm. I have no idea why there were two people with bizarre timekeeping customs in the same week.)
When we were in college, Mrs. Chef had a roommate who was… pretty but dumb. (sorry, that should read “pretty dumb.”) The roommate was, however, Sheldon Cooper compared with her boyfriend, who was just as dumb as a bag of hammers.
One time, the boyfriend brought his laundry over to use the girls’ laundry room and brought his stuff up to their apartment to fold it. In it were:
[ul][li]Some white socks[/li][li]A pink dress shirt[/li][li]A brand-new pair of jeans[/ul][/li]The guy pulled the pink shirt out of the basket and discovered that it had somehow turned lavender. “Aw, man,” he said, “looks like them white socks done turned mah shirt purple.”
:^/
Mrs. Chef, who had nothing better to do, spent a good ten minutes trying to explain that new jeans are blue, and blue and red make purple, all to no avail. That boy’s position was unshakable.
Back in college I had the following argument with a friend over how long it took to fly from Boston to Hawai’i.
Me: It takes about 13 hours to fly from Boston to Hawai’i
Him: You’re nuts it shouldn’t take more than 3
Me: How do you figure?
Him: How do YOU figure?
Me: Well, it takes six hours to fly from Boston to LA or San Francisco and then another six or seven to fly from Cali to Hawai’i
Him: Who the hell would to that? Just fly from Boston to Miami and then take the ferry over.
(He didn’t realize the box showing Hawai’i on the map was an insert)
When my brother and I were in elementary school we took turns making sandwiches for lunch. I, because I love my brother very much, would give him the best part of the bread, the heel, when starting or ending a loaf of bread. He would take the worst part of the bread, the heel, whenever he made sandwiches from the start or end of the loaf, because he loves me.
Both of us had quietly smoldered about the fact that he would always have the heel, without saying anything to each-other. We got into an argument over something (neither of us remember what) at Christmas, when we were in our thirties. This argument escalated until we were *screaming *at each-other “I always gave you the heel, and you always ate it!” “I always ate the heel, and never ever gave it to you!”
His wife broke up our argument by throwing heels of bread at both of us. She is the one who asked both of us what the best and worst part of the bread were. We then realized we had spent *decades *being mad at the other for their “selfishness”.
Wow - our squabbles have never gotten that out of hand!
Well, to be fair, he is right on that point.
Ah, the old “we were on a break” argument. 
I love all these couples’ arguments - it makes our argument about who is the better Captain, Kirk or Picard, seem much more logical. 
Picard, of course.
I had an argument with a college roommate about chess.
He said that he would only play the game if he could play black and black went first. I said, no, that’s not how the rules are. White goes first. He said to call it a variation on the game of chess. I said it’s not a variation, he’s simply trying to ignore the rules of the game for no function purpose other than to ignore the rules.
And so we stopped playing chess with each other.
Mrs Reeb and I, while dating (20-odd years ago) used to have quite regular,massive, arguments. Two in particular stick in my mind; one was about whether sharks have lips and the other was about how woodpeckers build their nests.
Eventually we got the arguing out of our systems and grew up. We’ve not had an argument on the same scale for many a year.
I once got into an argument with my Dad over whether the assertion that the US engaged in imperialism in the Phillipines in the 20th century qualified as “hating America.”
FYI, the rule that white moves first is fairly recent. The rule used to be that the player to move first could pick the color he wanted to play:
“In the Immortal Game (Anderssen-Kieseritzky, offhand game, London 1851), one of the most famous games in history, Anderssen had the Black pieces but moved first.[6] He also took the Black pieces but moved first in the sixth, eighth, and tenth games of his famous 1858 match against Paul Morphy. Each of those games began 1.a3 e5 2.c4, when Anderssen was effectively playing the Sicilian Defense with an extra tempo.”