So, I said “goddamnit,” “bullshit,” and regular “shit” in front of my grandmother on Sunday.
Here’s the problem: I have acquired Giant Toilet Mouth.
As with most degenerating things in my life, I blame it all on work, were several human beings regularly string together profanities with grace and eloquence. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard Tim yell at a reporter who isn’t in the office at the time, or until Garth gets off the phone with Rosemary, who for whatever reason hasn’t turned in any stories again this week. These are good times. (The situation is further complicated when one of our frequent Boy Scout tours are simultaneously shuffled through the office.)
So this year for Lent, I will be giving up swear words. (Thanks to Katie Dodson for the inspiration.)
This is going to be really hard, because cussing has become necessary and, at times, very funny. Generally, when people meet me, they don’t expect vile words to come out of my mouth. The contrast between my young, innocent appearance and the poisonous venom that spews forth is hilarious. But I don’t think anyone else is laughing.
I may try a more general attempt at Taming my Tongue, but beginning tomorrow, the swear words are out. And so are their fill-ins. ‘Eff’ and ‘effing’ will probably be harder to give up than if I’d decided I wouldn’t drive a car for 40 days.
Giving up Jesus last year for Lent did not work out as well as I’d planned, so we’ll try this one.
Shit. Hell. Piss. Damn. Bullpiss. Goddamit. Mothereffer.
Ok. I’m cool.
Bring it on!
No related posts.