I could cuss a blue streak, but I won’t

When I was a lad, bicycling home from junior high school, which proves me to be of a certain age, I practiced cussing. Emphatically spitting out the saltiest four-letter words individually, separately, serially in combination, and by deconstructing and reconstructing them to come up with truly split infinitives in a wish to be specta-fricking-tacular at something that proved I wasn’t quite as good and harmless a kid as everyone thought, I worked at the tetraphonic vocabulary like a beagle worrying a bone.

Shortly I mastered the four-letter obscenity, and with my equally foul-mouthed pals would toss them in profusion at the slightest provocation. Out of Mountain Dew? Getting dark and need to go home for dinner? Got mud on your shoe? Got a sentence that is too boring to be borne? Just feel like cussing? Anything could be an appropriate reason to start cussing.

In front of adults we would mind our manners. But when only peers were about, a casual observer might have wondered why we all sounded like convicts or Tommy from Goodfellas (which hadn’t been written let alone released yet, so now that I think further this development would have been truly miraculous).

High school faded into college and I moved into an all-male hall in a dormitory, and then the cussing got really serious. With nobody about who would admit to being an adult, we all rebelled and cussed a blue streak together. Taken in sum with our shared attraction to sarcasm and existentialism I am certain we were completely unbearable. Reactions from the young women at the college tended to bear this out. Imagine a gang of sarcastic cussing existentialists who think they’re smarter than you or anyone else, and … well … you don’t have to imagine. Just go here and read.

Eventually I started to wise up. I noticed that when I started cussing people looked at me differently, with less respect. And however inventive I got with cuss-words, they were still only a few words to replace a vast vocabulary much as a cloudy night sky obscures thousands of glittering stars in the firmament. When I got married and had kids I resolved to stop cussing so darn-tootin much. I realized that people instantly treated me with more respect for holding my tongue than they had before. Even when I substituted gibberish for cuss-words I got more respect than when I lost control and polluted the air with bad old habits.

And now, I usually don’t cuss. On occasion, I lose my temper or suffer from moral weakness, and then the verbal vermin come out. I smack myself after, and apologize to all who were near. Is that a sign of developing conservatism? I suppose it might be. Regardless, it’s a positive development.

Try it yourself. Say, “I could cuss a blue streak, but I won’t.”

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5 responses to “I could cuss a blue streak, but I won’t

  1. Jeez louise, now I know why the Kos Kidz are dysfunctional. They spend most of their blog time reading their own comments. No time else for edumacation.

  2. So according to Grim not cussing is a sign of masculinity?! I can buy that. Not cussing is also a sign of femininity, sez I. So what is the sex-type of constant cussing?

    My head hurts. I don’t know the answer but I’m sure cussers are peeved.

  3. I think Grim’s opinion, if he has one on this subject, may be in line with mine. Which is, cursing is a nice substitute to sticking a foot of steel in someone’s belly. Although a crude substitute at best.

    Thus the best replacement for cursing is polite and firm manners followed up by extreme violence and mayhem should words be insufficient.

    Aggression is just as present in words as it is in actions.

    A simple scenarion might illustrate the point better. Which is more effective in the short and long term. Taking a dagger with a nine inch blade and placing it an inch away from a person’s eye, or calling that person a maggoty mofo *i&^% bast*!@@?

    In the field of respect, that speaks for itself. If you are talking, you are not doing. If you are not doing, you are just living out fantasies. That’s the logic, at least.

    Cursing as a tool for physical intimidation is a crude and weak tool at best. Although modifications of the word fauk, fooking, or fracking might be entertaining to use for highlighting emotion or impact in writing.

    People avoid people that curse perhaps because the people cursing are play acting out aggression, physical intimidation, and lethal threats or some such. But as I described, Wolf, there is a difference between fantasy and reality.

    That’s why whenever I watch Jihad whatever videos of peeps talking about kaffars and infidels and how they’re going to slice the whatever out, I get a great big smile on my face.

    Not cussing is a sign of restraint. For good or ill. The sign that you may have some self-discipline at heart. That’s always a good thing to have.

  4. I would probably say that this guy has a lack of discipline at heart.


    Masculinity or femininity, doesn’t really matter to me as a case of debate.