Day 35:365 Gratitude Challenge and April 22nd A to Z Challenge
Today I am grateful for swearing. Hell yes! While I don’t always cuss like a sailor, I do find that sometimes letting go a good ole string of profanity does me the world of good. I am careful about when and where I swear; I really just swear for my benefit. I am also great at swearing under my breath which is so much fun because those around me think I may have cursed them to the high heavens but they cannot be sure so no one says anything to me. It makes me feel like such a bad lass when I get away with it.
Swearing is a release for me. When I cannot express myself, sometimes cuss words that rhyme with truck and son of a hitch are the only words that will do. Other times, when someone is being a jerk and jerk is not a strong enough comparison, then cussing the word that rhymes with basshole gets the point across. The really bad, bad jerks are trucking bassholes when nothing else suits.
Whether it is emotional or physical pain, swearing helps decrease it for me. There’s nothing like sobbing “he’s such a bleckerhead” when crying the ugly cry over someone who broke your heart or yelling “motherclucker” when you’ve stepped on some Lego pieces in the middle of the night that your little ray of sunshine promised that he had picked up. Words rhyming with son of a tour and plastered probably are not the best ones to choose in that situation because those words end up coming back on you.
Sometimes my swearing depends on whom I am arround. If I’m visiting someone who would never say the word that rhymes with twit even if their mouth was full of it, I would not say a bad word around them. But seat me next to one of my best friends and, holy moly, it becomes a humourous swear fest. Before I know it, my friend and I are immersed in giggles and profanity and having a shell of a good time.
Letting go a string of expletives saves the trucknutts in my life from getting an upper right hook to the face. They may not realize it at the time but swearing at them often is the lesser of two evils. Hurt feelings over being called a total sickweed is way better than suffering for weeks with a dislocated jaw.
As someone who did not swear a lot around my children, my cabbage patch kids always knew I meant business if I called bullpoopie to one of their excuses for why they were coming in past curfew. Sauerkraut knows that if I drop the F-bomb, I am past the point of no return and that my frustration level has gone off the chart. Swearing lets my loved ones know that, if I am expressing myself in such a meaningful way, I am really serious about the issue before me. Take watching sports, for instance, or playing the video game, Mario tennis, I can suddenly transform from a sweet and mild-mannered lady into a foul-mouthed profanity-laced sailor minus the tattoos.
Swearing apparently has health benefits. Did you know that swearing helps increase circulation and elevates endorphins? Me neither but it makes sense as to why I feel so good after letting loose a wild string of plucking profantity. I also discovered that there is a new study which reveals that swearing a lot is a sign of ducking intelligence which is awesome! Now I won’t feel so bad when I get so dissed off at someone and call them a complete and total dumbshuck because what I really am doing is showing how smart I am by increasing my circulation and elevating my endorphins. It is a win, win for everyone because by cussing I am helping myself as well as keeping a gluckup from being cuffed up the side of the head.
Now that I know that swearing is not a sign of stupidity and that it really is good for me emotionally, physically and mentally, I am going to ask for a swearing colouring book for my upcoming birthday in June. Imagine the calming effects that colouring swear words will have on me! I will be glucking genius.