Yesterday, the phone buzzed while I was carrying my cup of tea. I carefully put it down before reaching for the phone in my back pocket. While turning to sit, I turned the phone right side up and read the message on the screen.
My friend C that sent the message has always has a way with words and with timing. He has a fantastically deep voice and can drawl out a syllable, making it sound like liquid chocolate. He can insult you and you’ll thank him, he’s so eloquent with a phrase and snarky enough to use honey when he stings. C seldom needs to cuss because his special talent is the ability to turn any word into a curse word with tone, pace and intent. One summer he turned the word “fantastic” into a multi-layered insult that would instantly turn the cluster fuck we were in into a brilliant TV sitcom.
My topic in this rambling post today - Cussing.
I cuss a lot in my real life. I think it might be because I work with children and spend my much of my day trying to moderate my language. The end result is, my down time is like a pressure cooker released and I liberally pepper every sentence with words that would force my Grandmother to wash my mouth with soap. I also have a hard time getting my thoughts out and find, when I’m stuck in when speaking, a cuss word will fill the space in a way no “um…” cannot.
But, when I write, I am so very aware of how crude a cuss word is and how much of a cop out it can be. I try not to use profanity or, when I do, I try to take the sting out of them with an * or **.
But there are times a good “Fuck!” can really make a point. (Yes, I'm aware that without punctuation, that sentence would be a totally different statement!) Without use of the word ‘Fuck’, a word he never really uses, my text from C would have not resulted in a belly laugh that put me on the floor. So, however you choose to be profane, be it with curse words or, like C, with slow drawl, tone and intent, I may laugh but I will not judge.
Well, at least I won’t judge out fucking loud. (Sorry Grandmother)