I’m not THAT bad.
I don’t let the F-bombs fly, (as a regular habit), and try hard not to even utter its brother-from-another-mother, “friggin”, “freakin” or “fat”. (And really. Fess up, for when you use those words, we all know you are merely substituting them for the mac daddy F-word, which albeit inaudible, is still in your thoughts. You’re not fooling anyone.)
However, I have been known to let an a$$ and some sh*t escape from time to time. (I won’t tell you when . . .) Ok, so there’s also the H, E, double hockey sticks and crap, which, sigh, is just another word for the one I just tried to disguise with the asterisk. I’m hopeless.
Point being. I’m not a sailor. But I can play one on TV.
I can’t stand foul language as a rule. It’s lazy language. Even in theater/film, I really wish they would come up with something more descriptive to say. I myself, have only had to let ‘er rip once during a show I did down in Pittsburgh. But the monologue totally called for it, so I gave it all I had.
And yet, I can be salty. For the church folk.
Case in point. Sunday. In the course of a 10 minute conversation, I joked about someone going to the woods behind the church to smoke weed, and asked our Children’s Pastor if he had just used the word “whore” in a sentence.
And while the dialogue didn’t include any customary curse concoctions, and was incredibly mild for the world, the casual use of “weed” and “whore” in general conversation would have raised an eyebrow in certain company. It had my husband doing that thing he does where he shakes his head and says, “And you wanna be a Pastor’s wife.” (Think, Seinfeld . . . “And you wanna be my latex salesman.”)
I guess this is a true confession about my personal issues with the tongue, rather than my usual commentary on Pastor Wive-ism.
Thought I should tell you.
Nothing a little Lifebuoy can’t cure, right? Worked for Ralphie.
