As a lover of words of all sizes, levels of subtlety, and countries of origin, I’d like to speak to you on behalf of the Citizens for Creativity in Cursing.
I’m a fan of cursing. Not just your standard, four-letter scatological words, crude words spoken without thought, words used by the drunken, the lazy, or the uninspired.
Why limit yourself to four letters?
There is, arguably, a time for drunken, lazy, uninspired and clichéd curse words. I personally find myself drunk, lazy and uninspired at least once a month and have relied on them at various points in my life.
When I pumped gas for a living? Four-letter-word dependent.
When I washed dishes for a living? Again, four-letter-word dependent.
But when I’m not drunk, lazy, uninspired or working for minimum wage, I am thinking about words and the words I use. And monkeys.
Words and monkeys.
So I’ve been thinking about curses and curse words.
I mean, what kind of non-crack-smoking, rent-paying, rectum-clenching mouth-breather would I be if I weren’t concerned about the things that go into my daily life the way words do?
Take the guy on the bus on the way home Wednesday. This baggy-pants-wearin’, ghetto-fashioned bozo slouched so as to take up both seats. On a packed bus, this Snoop-Dogg-emulating Dollar-Menu-splurging pustule lay insolently across a seat meant to accommodate two.
Now would a four-letter word do him justice? I think not.
We owe it to ourselves to develop a more descriptive way of communication.
Can the CCC count on your support? They demand no less of us.
p.s. I sat with him, He of the Insolent Manner. Oh, yes, I did. “Move over there, sweetie, would ya?” He was shocked into compliance.
Mwa ha ha ha haaaaaa.