[wine bottle label — assuming that they mean gentlemen and gentlewomen]
Oh S#%!
I gave up cursing for Lent. It’s gotten really bad with me: that long lead in to the 2016 Presidential elections and then the actual election followed by a year of political fall-out and just about the worst time I can ever remember in our country for a social fabric, a moral compass, a bit of compassion for one’s fellow man. Face it. It’s a sucky time to be an American. People are looking for countries to emigrate to (don’t lie — you know you kicked around on the New Zealand website, and Canada is looking better every second, even with the extreme cold).
The only release I have is through language, writing, and yes, thank you, cursing. But when I’m dropping f-bombs every other sentence, sometimes twice in a sentence, then things have gotten entirely out of hand, just like American politics. My father used to say he had a daughter with a mouth like a longshoremen — he was no Puritan when it came to language, believe me — but I fear the level and intensity of my epithets would make even him blush.
For me, cursing is both fun and emotive, a pressure relief valve when the insanity of the world gets to be too much. A well-chosen curse word can release mounds of anxiety, keeping me from exploding — a distinct possibility in this life and these times. When I told my daughter of my plan, she yielded to paroxysms of laughter and then snap chatted all her friends with the news. As if! I know. There’s no way, right? So instead, I’ve instituted a penalty system in an effort to curb my overzealous utterances.
Let’s be realistic. Unless our elected representatives all retire en masse or lose at midterm elections and are replaced by people who are actually in possession of a heart, then my cursing is not going to end any time soon. So I’m charging myself $0.25 cents every time I curse. Lest you think that’s cheap, Lent started Wednesday and by midday Saturday, the jar had more than $8 in it. It’s going to be an expensive forty days, but at the end of that time, I’m donating the money to Union of Concerned Scientists because, well, science. Maybe my money will help them do something about the climate change deniers in D.C. Maybe they’ll find a way to keep the planet from running out of water in 30 years as it’s projected to do. Or maybe they’ll find a solution to any one of the myriad problems threatening our way of life with extinction.
Now that I think about it, maybe I need to start cursing more.
pjlazos 2.18.18
Green Life Blue Water 
Reading this I couldn’t stop laughing, Pam! I almost went broke when my granddaughters–age 11 kept charging me every time I cursed, and then wanted to go to the mall to spend it! I think it was a sneaky plan these twins figured out to get me to give them money. Especially since they tried to convince me a word was actually a curse word when it wasn’t!
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That’s great, Michele. Smart kids!
There’s about $30 in the jar right now but I don’t think my donations are keeping up with my mouth so I need to pay more attention to that.😘
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Hi there, just nominated you for the Blogger Recognition Award! Keep up the great work!
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Well, thank you very much! That’s lovely. 😊
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If only you hadn’t vowed to give up cursing there are such good adjectives you could have used in front of “climate change deniers in DC.”
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So true!!😘
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No advice, just sympathy. And kudos for your creative and constructive way of dealing with the “problem!”
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😉🤜🤛
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Hi PJ – my jar would be overflowing too … let alone my thought donations! Well done – always good to remind ourselves it’s not such a bright idea … but sometimes just amusing, or great to do – cheers Hilary
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So glad to know I’m not alone!😘
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I’d meant to add in … that I really liked the label – and you are not alone – cheers Hilary
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Thanks, Hilary!🙏😘
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Me too I can highly recommend cursing…. we are writers why would god give us words if not to use them??? Once I gave up religion for lent and that worked out really well… I’m no better for it but I don’t feel quite so guilty about it anymore!
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Ah, you’re hilarious, Paul! :0)
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Man I could never give up cursing. Hell, not even when my kids were wee. Obvi not or I wouldn’t have had to explain to the Mr that by ‘Daddy a bab buggah,’ the three year old meant buggy, after he gave her a row for something. But then she said it again and he said, ‘ No, She doesn’t.’ my jar would be overflowing which is why I don’t have one….
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That’s hilarious, and I think I must have inherited it as well, just like your babies!😘
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Hee hee. I mind my older one once saying all politely to this old guy who was in mending stuff for us. ‘ Eilis swears, you know.’ When she was three– she never spoke early she had her sister to do it for her — she had five words, three of them were swear ones…
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😂😂😂
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Curse loudly and excessively – fill that jar while emptying the spleen. It’s a wonderful release! I can’t think of anything worse than holding it in, out of politeness – that is asking the spleen to make bile. Get it OUT! Have a great week! Thanks for the post – 🙂
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For the spleen!!😘
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