fiddle dee dee, and all that So I�m in Big Lots the other day, looking at the salad dressing from Pakistan or god knows where, when over the divider to the next aisle I hear this: �Fuckin fucky fuckin fuck-a-dee fuck fuckin fuck, bro.� Okay, it wasn�t precisely that, but the above is certainly the spirit of the actual words. And I�m thinking to myself, �Why do I need to hear this? When did our daily vernacular disintegrate to the point where people can�t say anything but vulgarities when talking about breakfast cereal, for heaven�s sakes?� And then, it turns out that the speaker was actually a woman speaking to her husband-man-whatever in the full presence of her son, who looked to be about 12 or so. I probably sound hypocritical. I am a full-fledged user of bad words, including and far beyond the Seven Dirty Words to include about 4000 more, including acronyms, my favorite of which is FUBAPHORAMEM, which is much, much worse than FUBAR: Fucked I mean, I was raised by a sailor for heaven�s sake, a near-sighted, clumsy sailor at that, one who had lots of power tools. Dangerous, dangerous. We bought Band-aids� by the pallet. But why do I need to hear this kind of language, plain as day, and actually rather loud, in my local discount store? I almost asked Ms Fecilia Fuck and Family to keep her voice down, if not for the sake of her son�s ears, at least out of respect for people around her. The only reason I didn�t was because the woman had about 75 pounds on me and while I�m sure I could have outrun her, she had that kind of truculent look that told me that she was pretty fast on swinging that arm of hers and boxing me a good one right on my ear before I could say boo. Perhaps I�m turning into a curmudgeon faster than I�d like to. Or perhaps I am more accustomed to being more genteel. Language can lose its effectiveness if not used properly. I can�t imagine what that woman would say if she was really, really, angry at something more offensive than breakfast cereal. Suffice it to say that it would probably melt asbestos. For the love of Mike.
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