From what I can tell, there's nothing in the Bible that says swearing will make God hate your guts and damn you to an eternity in hell. Aside from using the Lord's name in vain, which is a specific no-no if you are a ten commandments follower, there is no indication whatsoever that God, Jesus, or any other deity gives a rat's ass with a shit hanging off it if you swear. I don't think God has fucking time to concern God's self your raunchy ramblings.
But that's not what this blog is about.
This blog is a guest post written by Kerri Morris, an English teacher who writes an informative, heartfelt blog here on Chicagonow about how cancer is a fucking piece of shit. Her blog is called Cancer is not a gift . But today, she wrote a guest post for my foul and offensive blog about how she secretly loves to swear, and it is a very funny motherfucking blog!
Like her on Facebook too, m'kay? Cancer is not a gift on Facebook
A Secret Love Affair
I have a secret love affair with curse words. I think it’s because I was raised in a Southern Baptist minister’s home, and I was the youngest child, so who better to introduce cursing into our household?
I remember my first time. I was 7. My mom and brother and I were sitting in the hallway doing something, who knows. I wound it up and said, “Oh god!” They turned and looked at me, stunned. They gasped.
Not only did I curse, but I took god’s name in vain. The effect was magical. Attention + Shock = Fuckin’ Amazing. I kept my little gun loaded from that moment.
Keep in mind the burden a kid bears as a preacher’s kid. A PK. My dad used to pick us up at school in the church van. Imagine a teenager waiting with her books. The Glorieta Baptist Church van pulls up, and you know you have to admit that it’s there for you. You have to walk to it, all those judgy eyes following you. You have to get in it. This is not the shortcut to getting dates.
“Shit,” “fuck,” and “damn” helped shaped my image a bit, but they required practice. I had no role models at home. Cursing, I mean cursing well, requires practice.
There’s a big difference, for instance, between, “That’s bitchin’” and “That’s bitching.” Which I found out in a small group of high school friends, who will mock me until the end of days.
There’s a rule of some sort regarding that final “g.” “Fuckin’ A” demands that the “g” be dropped. But “Fucking Ah-mazing” really profits from the “g.”
It took me a while to work up to really taking god’s name in vain. For some, the “f” word is the jewel in the crown, but for me, “god,” “jesus” and the like were the real achievements.
“God dammit” came first. But it took years to work up to “Jesus” or “Jesus Christ.” I can now say “Jesus Fucking Christ,” or “God fucking dammit” for that matter, without even batting an eyelash. And that definitely requires the “g.” (BTW, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to capitalize the “F” between Jesus and Christ because it’s serving as his (His?) middle name.)
In college once, when I was still going to Sunday School, our teacher was a friend’s mom. Someone said “crap” before the lesson got started and our teacher/friend’s mom was off. She looked at us and said, with passion, “Why do you feel comfortable saying ‘crap’? Why not just say “shit”? It’s the same thing. You’re talking about poop. Why is “crap” so acceptable? If it’s ok then “shit’s” ok. Watch your mouths.”
Wow. Three “craps,” two “shits” and a “poop” before the sermon. We never made eye contact with that woman again. She scared the shit out of us.
For all my love of the bad word, the first time my daughter said one I saw them all very differently. Apparently one of my favorites is “shit.” I was carrying her downstairs once when she was a toddler and I bumped my elbow on something. I muttered, “shit.” She looked me in the eye, bright eyed and said, “Shit.” Emphasis on the “t.” It just sounds good and feels good. Still, not as much fun coming from your 2-year-old.
She came home from school one day when she was in third grade and said, “I said the “c” word today. Is that a bad word?”
My husband and I looked at each other. We panicked a bit, imagining the conversation with her teacher. I mean a kid doesn’t just pick up that kind of language from anywhere. She learns that at home.
Luckily, calm descended. I said, “I don’t know, sweety. What is the “c” word?”
She whispered, “Crap?”
What a motherfuckin’ load of relief that was. Was it time for the Sunday School lesson on “crap,” “poop” and “shit”?
One final note about the “f” word, and as an English professor I feel obligated to impart this knowledge. “Fuck” can serve as any part of speech. Verb, noun, adjective. You name it.
This is my favorite scene from my favorite show, The Wire, using my favorite word: