You Learned Well Grasshopper

One of my favorite television shows is something called Mythbusters. It's a show that takes so called urban legends, or myths, and either proves them to be true or proves that they are unsupported bunk. Their method of doing that is sort of pseudo science, but I like to take it as fact. That's why I was so happy when they proved the myth that cursing actually helps lessen pain. I come from a family of cursers. My dad could let out a string of profanity that would make the paint peel off the walls of our church. Old ladies would blush a mile away if my dad slammed his thumb with a hammer, or peeled open his scalp walking into low hanging hardware. You could be going about your business, and off in the distance you might hear my dads voice bellowing out in pain, followed by a litany of shit, crap, sonofabitch, and other combination of words that might not have true meaning but still sounded nasty.

When it comes to my swearing, I am a student of my father. I learned at the feet of the master, and when we were kids my mom never asked the question required of mothers, "Where did you learn such vulgar language?". My mom knew exactly where we learned it. My vulgarity is actually a bit advanced when compared to my dad's. You see I have never had to worry about children being within earshot when I let loose, so I have expanded and enhanced upon the knowledge I gleaned from dad. I have come up with some new combination's that he never would have thrown out there, including new things to do with fecal matter, and sexual profanity that involves just about every living thing.

How good am I at cursing? Well seventeen years ago, I moved into this house, and the neighbor lady came over to welcome me. "Oh, those people who used to live here were horrible. They cursed all the time, I could hear them clear as day across the fence.", she whined. Yes, I assured her, that was awful. It was just a few months later that she sold the place and moved out.