F*ck You!

I’m not going to lie – I love to swear. I don’t know why. I just do. I think it just expresses way more than I could.

For example… if someone makes me angry or irritated, I will use either of those words. But when someone has me really heated over something, it just doesn’t seem to fully express my anger and outrage by saying, “They make me angry.” Nope. Doesn’t do it. It needs to be peppered with some foul language to really, fully express just how fucking angry they really make me. Seriously – I’m pissed off.

See, now you understand that by my choice of language that these people have really gone above and beyond to annoy and frustrate me.

If there is a confusion of some sort, and I’m not talking about a misunderstanding of a left instead of a right, I’m talking about a whole mess of confusion. It’s not justifiable enough to say that you’re just simply confused, you might be: Confused as hell – for example. If things are really bad, you might be: Confused as fuck. Worse yet: Confused as fucking hell. If you reach this last stage, I would just simply find yourself the nearest bar or cafe and have yourself a drink or a cup of coffee because there’s no coming back from that confusion.

If something very small, barely making the radar here, suddenly explodes into one giant mass of confusion… there’s only one word for that: Clusterfuck.

Again, it’s the profanity that really drives it home.

Unfortunately, there are decent people in the world called ‘parents’ who really don’t enjoy strangers decorating their sentences and stories with such poor choice of words so you have to turn Disney when around certain people. When this happens, you get even more angry at the fact that you can’t curse! It’s just so frustrating! It’s like those words hold your salvation of ever achieving peace from the situation.

So, you might try to slur the words as if children really are THAT stupid and can’t figure out what a Biotch is.

“Dang it!” – Really? That helps with the anger?

“Darn it!” COME ON! You know that’s not helping shit… er… sugar!

Please.

Friggin’. Now that’s an interesting choice of words. I especially enjoy the phrase “Friggin’ A!” Beautiful combination right there.

The phrase that always confused me was: Fuckin’ A! – I mean, if you’re gonna say “fucking” you might as well say “ass”, I mean that’s just common sense right there.

I remember when it was considered unholy for my brother and I to swear. We were never really old enough. I think my brother still states he can’t swear in front of my mother… although he has. Get him in front of an unfair game of Family Feud and you’ll hear a “What the hell?” slip out of him.

I don’t think he can help himself; it’s second nature.

I know I swear in front of my parents. I don’t think it matters. My parents swear when they think no one is listening… and even when they do know.

It sort of just slips out. I mean, you hear it enough and it’s bound to come out eventually.

I recently saw one of those “Swear Jars” and while I understand the point is to put money in the jar for swearing or perhaps just swear into the jar. But I would buy it in the hopes that when I open it, obscenities would come flying out of it.

I know some people who can be quite creative with their curse words. Imagine opening the Swear Jar and hearing: Fuckballs! Shitass! Bitch-tard!

Oh the fun I would have. Besides, there’s going to be a time when I run out of the combinations and I’m going to need some assistance.

Damnfuck!

Hell ya!

I will admit, there’s a fine line between expressing your anger and starting to sound as if you have a condition. It’s a fine line that I’m willing to walk so long as I can still feel my relieve the next time some fuckwad pisses me the fuck off!

 

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