Saturday Swears

While participating in #NaBloPoMo, I will be doing a few weekly themed posts so I don’t have to think so hard some days. Happy Saturday Swears, folks! I’m going to keep this theme pretty loose. Maybe I’ll post about swearing, my favorite national pastime. Maybe I’ll just swear a whole bunch. Maybe I’ll just post one big swear in a bold and enlarged font. Surprises are fun!


My sisters and I, five or six years ago. My mom posted this on Facebook once as a birthday present to me.


Swearing is one of my favorite things in the world. Call me immature, I don’t care (and I’ll call you a dipshit.) When I’m mad, it makes me happier. When I’m happy, it makes me happier. I would like it on a fucking boat. I would like it on a goddamn goat. I would have cussed in my wedding vows except it was really hot that day and it was all outdoors and we had a pretty limited alcohol selection so I ultimately decided not to piss my grandmother off further.

I thought that for this first post, I would talk about just my favorite swears. But then I realized that’s like asking me to pick my favorite child. I have one, but my public answer is that they’re all my favorites.

The frontrunner would probably be fuck, but I just can’t commit to it 100%. However, I don’t know what hormone it releases or what neurons start firing, but there is nothing that tastes as good as a well-timed f-word feels. And the best part is that it’s not always used in negative situations. Whether I’m winning the lottery or waking up to the smell of bacon, both are best punctuated with a rousing “Fuuuuuck yes!”

Now, motherfucker, fuck’s angrier cousin who smokes Camels, is actually in a tie with son of a bitch for when someone cuts me off in traffic or a baby grabs the hair right by my temples with their iron-grip baby fist. They both are extremely satisfying to yell and effectively signal to the world around me that I need a moment or twelve.

Shit is likely my most used. “..and shit,” gets added onto my sentences several times a day. What the shit is way more fun to say than WTF. And with two small children under my care, I say it in exasperation or confusion or acceptance of defeat more times a day than I remind them to say please and thank you.

Ass, hell and piss are my least-used. Piss is just kind of dumb. Pee does the job just fine when I’m talking about pee. I don’t say it much to let people know I’m mad because if they can’t tell already, spelling it out for them isn’t going to fix their stupid fucking face. And ass is something I don’t even notice myself using. It might just be a regular word in my brain at this point, like chair or fart. And hell is child’s play. Wanna be an edgy six-year-old on the playground? Tell those clowns on the jungle gym to go to hell. That’ll show ’em.

There are plenty of other swears, and some may be wondering why I haven’t mentioned bitch. Well, I’m mentioning bitch. I say it a lot, and it’s one I’ve been trying to cut down on. Trying to cut down on things that you yell out impulsively is hard. But while I try not to use bitch in a mean way, it is a mean word, and that’s where I draw the line with swearing. I’m not trying to say mean shit to anybody.

I get that swearing makes some people uncomfortable, and I try to be respectful when I’m around these goddamn dorks. But at the end of the day, it is my favorite and I love it, and they’re just words that don’t really mean anything besides cooler versions of what they mean. Swearing is cool. And if you don’t like it, you can fuck off. (But not totally because I don’t really give that much of a shit either way.)

This post was brought to you by #NaBloPoMo or National Blog Post Month. I will be writing a blog post every day for the month of November. You are motherfucking stoked on this.


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