Cussing

Finally.

A study just came out indicating that swearing at work is okay.

That’s a good thing, because only yesterday, there were some pretty loud expletives emanating from my office. I can’t even remember what caused it. I think it was that stupid Word feature that automatically enters sequential numbers when you type a number and hit “enter.”

I hate that.

So, I had let out a couple of pretty loud, “God damnits!” (one of my favorites) and then looked behind me to make sure no one had been walking by my office at that point. It was a little loud.

My boss, who’s the CEO of the organization, will occasionally use the word, “bullshit” when talking to me. I like that, especially since she’s never used it to refer to my work. She’s in her sixties and I’m glad that she feels comfortable enough around me to do that. (“She likes me! She really, really likes me.”)

The F-word is pretty amazing. It’s about the worst word you can use and its grammatical flexibility is seemingly endless. It can be used as a verb, two types of nouns, an adjective, an expletive, in the vocative sense and, in the m.f. case, (I hate this) as a discourse marker.

If you read yesterday’s post, there’s a pretty amusing story about how I used the f-word when I was ten years old much to my own amazement. Even though ten year-olds shouldn't be using that word, in my case it was directed at a playground bully, utilized judiciously, and was highly effective. And it was used as an adjective, so that’s not so bad.

I remember being seven or eight years old, sitting around the stereo with my cousins on my dad’s side of the family, listening to Johnny Cash’s A Boy Named Sue. We would just squeal with glee at the end of the song where he says “son of a bitch.” And play it over and over.

God, that was fun.

So, now, dear puppies, you can curse away at work, knowing that it’s good for morale.

My computer froze up.

Shit