Life in the Slow Lane

Life in the Slow Lane

Friday, March 18, 2005


I don’t know if anybody has noticed but I really like to swear. A lot. I am not entirely certain where this joy originates, as I was most definitely not allowed to curse during my whole childhood. Until recently the only time I ever heard my mom say ‘fuck’ was in the presence of the vacuum cleaner. My father is not a vulgar swearer but has let such words like ‘bugger’ and ‘shit’ slip on occasion. I can only say this. Swearing for me releases some sort of chemical satisfaction in my brain not yet replicated by any other life experience. It feels just sooooo goooood.

I can remember the first time I said ‘fuck’ in front of my mom. We were walking home in the snow after doing grocery shopping. I was about 10 years old. My mom had bought her favourite liquorice toffee and I was chomping on a piece. All of a sudden a back molar that was not very loose to begin with was wrenched from my gums in the firm grip of my candy. Blood flooded my mouth and without even thinking I said FUCK! My mom started to flip but I stopped my eminent grounding my allowing a gob of bloody liquorice tinged drool to ooze out of my mouth. Mom was immediately distracted and I was not punished.

There was an earlier occasion when ‘fuck’ escaped from my mouth in the presence of my mother but I don’t think it counts as I was only 3 years old and didn’t say it with full knowledge and intent. Renee from preschool had been repeating the catchy phrase of; “You fuckin’ fuckin’ jerk!” for a few days and it sure seemed to roll off my toddler tongue just fine. When I said it to my mom after school she didn’t react at all. She only asked where I had heard it. I told her and Renee was busted the following day. I believe her parents where going through divorce at the time and she was caught in the verbal crossfire. This is waaay before Dr. Phil when fighting in front of your kids was ok.

Very recently I have stumbled onto the blog of Dad Gone Mad who employs such fabulous swears as Assclown and Cockmaster. This guy is a connoisseur. And I admit I am crushing a little. While seriously intimidated and totally envious of those who can curse with such flair I have to admit to some guilt and shame when I cuss due to a parentally ingrained tenet that nice girls should not have a potty mouth. While I don’t think it is necessarily wrong to walk on the bad side now and then I fear the label of nasty foulmouthed scrag. I want to be able to swear and still maintain an aura of sweetness. Is this possible? Am I sexist?

Ironically over the years I have let loose egregious expletives in the presence of my mother to her intense discomfort and disapproval only to recently receive emails from her containing the word fuck. Apparently I am rubbing off. Once again conflict creeps in. Am I an evil corrupting influence or a verbal liberator?

Perhaps I could swear without censor in the privacy of my own home and car but refrain from uttering anything but the most creative and mentally stimulating profanity in the company of others. Something like serving champaign to guests and saving the plonk for leftovers at home. Hmmmmm…Fuck it! I am just gonna let them fly as they come and savour the delicious brain and body sensations like the curse junkie that I am.

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