Vulgar Things

Ever look at someone and think…

Well, no, what I thought when I saw his picture is probably not kosher to relay on a blog or where anyone that only moderately knows me may read. Or, you know… like my mother might see or something.

I suppose I’m not above writing vulgar things, even here, but every now and then I have to reign myself in from what I really mean or want to say. I just don’t need to deal with disapproval from anyone any more – which there is a good chance 1/2 of my FB friends list at a minimum would disapprove.

My impulse to make the thought a status on FB was strong. Because, hey, I enjoy making my friends laugh… and vulgar or not… it was a freaking hilarious thought. I talked myself out of it though, because the thought of blocking so many people individually from seeing the status seemed just so freaking tedious… I’m gonna have to add people to a “not for explicit statuses” list. Then the tediousness will only have to be lived once.

I might at least message Maja and Svea and tell them exactly what thought crossed my mind though, and save the list sorting for another day.

I know who I can be vulgar with. I have honed the skill over time to gravitate towards these kinds of people and once I have sussed them out and realized they can handle my mouth, I let it loose before they know what’s happening.

One day, just cruising along thinking Emma is so calm, nice, and quiet… and… I mean, she’s a mother… sooo… The next day BAM! Chlamydia! and a big ole “Well Fuck you too, man!”

Usually it’s in the form of a subversive joke/humorous thought. The look on most people’s faces are priceless. That makes it all worth it. I laugh with tears running down my face, not even because my jokes are that hilarious (though, come on… they often are, haha ), but because of the looks of utter disbelief and shock.

A couple weeks ago I stormed into my Boss’s office and told her, as I made the universal shut-yo-freakin’-mouth hand gesture, “Shut the fuck up!”

Trust me, it was warranted, and it was hilarious. Her face was priceless, and then she burst out laughing. A few moments later she was telling someone else about it and how well I’ve fit into the office… and that because I’m American, my swearing came across as much more forceful than she expected…

I took that as a compliment.

You must understand first though, that she had recently just told me this joke:




Obviously, she could handle a good ole “Fuck” out of my mouth. As can everyone else in my working environment… It’s awesome. Someone today at lunch made a dry comment about the amount of antibiotics that have run through someone’s system and another lady said something regarding a cactus crotch or something. My goodness. I had tears. Made even better when, again, my boss had the funniest look on her face when cactus crotch was said.

Even my mother, who knows me, was once so shocked she hung up on me because she was obviously trying to scandalize me by talking about men she was seeing shortly after her divorce with my dad.

“Well, I think you should date an Irishman,” I said.

“Why is that?”

“I mean… You know what they say about men that can speak Gaelic…”

“No, ” my mother said. “What?”

“They can do interesting things with their tongues.”





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