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Throughout my earlier childhood I had a virtual phobia of swearing, despite the fact that my parents weren't completely averse to it. I'd go as far as to spell out any controversial word when relating its occurrence - whether it was f-a-r-t or the dreaded b-l-o-o-d-y. Eventually, I relented and began using anything up to and including 'shit' - but two words remained verboten.
It was when I was 14, in the school dining hall. A friend of mine (although back then more of a low-level bully - weird how the dynamic shifted) was, as usual, trying to wind me up. He knew full well of my aversion. So it was that he made his fateful accusation: "You fuck horses". To which my response: "I don't fuck...................oh".
This was obviously a disaster, and disastrous times require stern measures. Namely, mental tabulation of the precise number of times that foul word had passed my lips. Once the first had happened, it was inevitable that without a virginity to preserve, I'd find it easier to fall prey, and so it proved. However, I retained a particle of self-control, compounded by a keen memory, and the fruits of my obsession tallied thirty-six fucks (lamentably annexed by two cunts - how the star had fallen!) when the edifice I'd spent my youth upon was annhilated for good.
For then it was that other school-friends of mine, having grown aware of my unique disincentive, gathered about me in counsel and beseeched that I depart this misery once and for all. "Try it, just swear! Just say fuck!" Well, what was I to do? I yielded, haltingly at first, but then with a savage catharsis, repeatedly, at the four walls of the room, out through the door and into the world beyond. Out, out they flew, uncountable myriad, dashing to as many pieces the resolve of yesterday! Fuck! Cunt! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I often think back to that moment where I leapt the precipice, and I wonder whether sometimes integrity is a thing best left slain. But really, it wasn't a fact of integrity. There were thirty-eight reasons I did what I did, and whatever the number is now, I know more firmly than ever that it is the other words which count for most.
― once a week is ample, Friday, 2 September 2011 22:15 (twelve years ago) link
yeah, the thing that made me and my sister laugh so much re my niece is that she was pulling off inflections and substitutions and facial expressions which were totally "d00d it;ls the 21st century get with the programme!" -- but she's very good at making us laugh, which is probably storing up trouble (she can get out of bother with US, she knows how to put on a show, but at some point she's going to encounter someone with another set of rules)
my mum would have found this all VERY funny
― mark s, Friday, 2 September 2011 23:50 (twelve years ago) link
further to my accidental discovery of the word aged 7, I probably didn't use it again until a conspiratorial "lol rude words" conversation with schoolfriends aged about 10, and didn't attempt to insert it nonchalantly into a sentence until I was 12 or so and trying to sound tough (at school, again)
it probably didn't slip out unplanned until at least 18, but now I have a bad habit of muttering it if things go even mildly wrong, or occasionally if I'm on my own and have just randomly been struck by the memory of something stupid or embarrassing from a decade ago
was rather naive re: cunt, however; probably didn't even know this was a word until well into my teens. remember reading magazine interviews aged 13-14 and being confused as to why they'd starred "c***" out cz neither "crap" nor "cock" made sense or seemed worth starring
― the ascent of nyan (a passing spacecadet), Sunday, 4 September 2011 13:01 (twelve years ago) link