Monday, May 20, 2013

Alas, Profanity! I Knew Him Well ...




Okay ... time to shift gears!  So, for lent I gave up Cherry Coke ... which was an enormous mistake, as we all know.  In retrospect, I probably should've given up profanity.   Stoney's mom asked to friend me on Facebook this morning  ... which was an intimidating ... but very happy ... discovery to awake to.  I very rarely curse on Facebook ... but it does slip out now and then.  Or at least it did ...

I haven't met his parents yet ... so now I have this weird panic thing going on ... what the hell is on my Facebook wall?!?!   It's not like I have links to PornHub or anything ... after all my Mom is on Facebook.  But I'm fairly sure last year there was a lot of  Magic Mike images going around ... and Thor graphics ... and holy crap someone posted a picture of Adam Levine naked on a motorcycle last month.  SHIT ... I've gotta take that down ASAP!

I curse ... a lot.  It's not that I can't not cuss.  I work all day at an office where it isn't acceptable to say, "Fuck yeah I wanna go to an after-action meeting!  Schedule that motherfucker!"  No ... I have the ability to be a perfectly upstanding citizen.   I taught an entire class of octogenarians how to use iPads last week and not once did I say, "Are you fucking kidding me?"  Although ... let's not fool ourselves ... I thought it about twice a minute on average.

It's true that only a handful of people who know me personally know about this blog.  I think the logs showed around 800 unique visits last month ... and I'd say only four or five visitors know me in the real world.  So my Bruce Wayne/Batman secret identity is still safe ... and technically I could still curse to high heaven on here with little to no repercussions.  Still, writing words like fuck in this blog every day ... while enjoyable as hell ... really only keeps the habit of using them going.  

So ... I'm going to try and cut back.  Wean myself down.   I'll never be Mother Teresa ... but maybe I could be a little less Kevin Smith?   A little more Annette Hargrove and a little less Kathryn Merteuil?  We'll see ... if, after twenty four hours, you find me in a heap on the floor cursing like the bastard child of a Tourette's patient and a merchant marine, you'll know our little experiment failed.  Wish me luck, friends ... wish me luck.

A little less conversation, a little more action please
All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me
A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark
Close your mouth and open up your heart
And baby satisfy me
Satisfy me baby

Elvis Presley - A Little Less Conversation

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