I love profanity. I’m sure that’s not really much of a surprise to you if you’ve been reading here, for oh, the last five minutes. I’ve loved profanity for as long as I could remember. I couldn’t wait to grow up and swear. I’m sure I used it much younger than I probably should have, when I wasn’t within earshot of an adult.
Maybe this isn’t “ladylike,” or “classy” (unless you’re spelling it klassy with a k), but it’s part of who I am. The word “fuck” litters my writing more often than not, and I’m sure there are people who stop by here and are offended (when isn’t someone offended on the internet) and think that such language isn’t necessary to prove a point, but you see, it is, for me. To me, it’s colorful and sometimes delivers much more of a powerful punch, than say, a 50 cent word that only half of the people will understand. I can guarantee you, that everyone understands the word fuck.
Also, having kids, has really put a damper on my truck driver mouth. Once the kids are in bed, I breathe a sigh of relief, quietly celebrating having made it through another day, relatively unscathed. At which point, I mumble a string of expletives under my breath as all one word “shitcockballsassholefuckerwhorebitch.” Or something similar. You know, whatever.
And I tried to curb it in my writing for awhile. Not to appease my 6 readers (I’m moving up in the world!), but mainly because I was trying to get in the habit of not swearing so much. It was a failed experiment. It’s just ingrained in me, and I’ll always have a potty mouth.
What about you? What’s your stance? Are you a mommy blogger with a dirty whore of a mouth, or are you one of those prim and proper types that thinks swearing is for men sitting around a poker table (if so, I’m betting that you probably aren’t reading this blog)?