Polite as Fuck

December 13, 2012 — disappointing, fuck, fuck yeah, judgement, kids, ladylike, mom, moms, polite as fuck, swearing

Meet my new shirt! I’ve decided this is the shirt I will wear the next time I visit my mother. She lives in a different state, so it won’t be like I can just show up, offend her and then hail an airplane to exit stage left.

*fuck*fuck*fuck*fuck*fuck*fuck*fuck*fuck*fuck*fuck*fuck*fuck*

You see, I co-authored a book this year. I was proud! Sent a copy to my mother. Autographed it even. Most mothers would be thrilled. Proud as punch. (that’s really the dumbest saying–how can punch be proud) Anyway, she was all those things, but with a heaping scoop of judgement sprinkled on top because I used the “f” word in the book. She felt it was not lady like (yeah, cause it’s still 1952 and I’m Doris Fucking Day) and that I could express myself without using this word.

I beg to differ! I actually like the word fuck. I don’t know why. Maybe its the double hard consonant slammer at the end. CK! Maybe it’s just because it seems to be my generations cuss word. (do people still say “cuss”?) I believe her generations word was “shit” or “damn”. See, what’s the fucking difference? They are just words. Words that feel good when you need to express yourself in a bold way.

The use of this word does not mean I am less classy or smart or “ladylike”. Well, that depends on the day. My business coach and I have this wonderful saying,

“If it’s not fuck yeah, then it’s no!”

I believe applying this phrase to every part of your life is essential. Dating (think about it)! Work! That hideous Christmas sweater! Those stretch pants that show off your funt! Spending time with your family even though it gives you a migraine and a stomach ache (this ones for you, Lori)! That bright shade of red lipstick that the girl at the MAC counter swore made you look like Angelina! The baby shower for the girl at work that’s mean to you! Hugging creepy Uncle Eddie on your step fathers side, whose twice removed! That 5th glass of wine!

Now, I love my mother with all my heart. Being the quintessential oldest child that I am, I’ve spent my entire life trying to please her–always careful not to offend her or embarrass her or have her be displeased with me in any way. I’ve gotta tell ya, I’m tired as fuck! I’m 45, not 5. I am a loving, respectful, responsible daughter and asset to society. And if I want to say fuck in a book or out loud, I’m gonna!

So, thanks for the “swear jar” Mom, but I already filled it up and it was so heavy it fell off the shelf and broke. So sad!

Stay fucking sane, my friends. Cusser, OUT!