Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Sprinkles on your vocab

One of my facebook friends was nodding with me about swearing the other day.  I started to respond to her, and realized that I have something to say on this matter...so here I am.


My mom gave up on my potty mouth in around 10th grade.  That is actually really generous. I'm sure my mom gave up on my mouth much sooner than that.  


I've never really understood the big deal about  swearing. I mean, sure...when I was in the 6th grade I probably threw out a "shit" because it was taboo.  But really once I hit Junior High, other than using them in self defense, I never really understood why they weren't allowed SOMETIMES.  To me, its just words. I rant and rave with them, but  if I'm going to hurt someone, it rarely requires cursing.  


As far as I'm concerned, curse words are are just glitter and sprinkles for my vocab.  


 :)  When I was in Jr. Hi and life was utterly  hell, my mom was really great about letting me just talk. She didn't care how I said it, so much as she wanted me to say something...anything, rather than NOT talk to her, ya know? so when "so and so was a mean bitch and this is all a bunch of fucking shit and I just want to die!!!" she listened and let me talk.    


Fuck just feels really gratifying to say, no way around it.  I truly always appreciated my mom's willingness to let me express myself. It was both with words and my appearance.  When I wore boxers sticking out of the top of my torn up jeans in 1987, and my dad's flannel shirt around my waist, she just let me.  When I needed to add some juice to my words to fully convey my angst, she let me.  


I do try to have some decorum about when I swear, or about what.  most of the time.  

But really, to me, dancing is to movement as swearing is to speaking...


Frankly, if I meet someone who absolutely does not swear, I don't really trust them.  Or people who don't like dogs. Don't trust them either really.  you fucking like dogs, we're good. 


And that, my friends, is why we fucking have this trucker mouth genius that you see here today.   Its my mom's fault. I mean...you can fucking thank my mom.  I do.  


Next, why it is my mom's fault that I am an utter slob about dishes and laundry :) 

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