100% FREE ONLINE DATING
sponsored links
Previous
| Topic: Cussing..... | |
|---|---|
|
|
|
I think it was George Washington who said that cussing is a sign of a person with a limited vocabulary. I am always trying to learn new words. I have made it through whole days without cussing. I am learning to vent better so I think there is a trade off. I would miss my two worded serenity prayer.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Haven't read, will tomorrow. Sure it's the "generic" answer, but LOVE cursing!!!!! ....when used frugally so the impact is still there!
Someone who uses F like an "uuuuuuuum" most likely will bore the feces out of me!!!! |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I do cuss, but it's not like a every other word thing, but i do swear more than you should its a force of habit, my family cusses, when you're around it you pick up on it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
No, I have to make myself cuss.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Well f!ck cussing is so F!ucking overrated
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
yeah, I have that bad habit!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I don't know how to cuss.
BUT. I can post a mean asterisk string. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Do you do it? I got a list in my head of the people who I know here....I kinda wanna know. Do you only do it under bad circumstances or do you use it all the time? For me...it is like using salt and pepper man. I swear WAY more in actual life than I do here. (they spank and censor here...but, that is atually a good thing) When they say "cuss like a sailor"....that is my excuse. I served on a ship...there was alot of cussing wih 5,000 dudes...no women, no alcohol. Trust me...there is cussing. I cuss. For me it happens two ways: 1. I make some physical repairs or creations to my bicycle, furniture, anything. The best, easiest, and most effortless way for anyone to get me to start cussing is to put a screwdriver or hammer or any hand tool in my hands. The cussing starts almost upon first contact. It's part of the creative way, part of the creative process for building chairs or posts or ceiling vaults. I usually cuss in Hungarian in an English world, but that don't fool anyone. My tone of voice gives it away. 2. In conversation. It is like when you wet your palate with your tongue when it's dry. I normally never curse, but get me started just on ONE fing this or fing that, and I can't stop until I've gone to bed and slept on it, or the conversation ends, whichever comes first. It's like some of those tunes you can't get out of your heads. 3. When I am angry and in a "psycho" mode. I get to explain to someone how they are wrong, and I get angrier by my own voice, by rehashing the experience, then I repeat the process, and get angrier, until I get to the point of screaming at the top of my lungs at a high, very loud, whistle-pitched voice. It is quite a production if you can catch me in one of those fits. 4. As a humour-effect. "Holy f" is a favourite one, and applied only at very applicable situations. I then go on and laugh. 5. Sometimes when I meet a woman, and know her socially, I'll ask her, point blank, "can I f you?" This is not with EVERY woman, only with those whose thickness of skin, robustness of sense of humour or literary conviction in poetry I feel will protect them from feeling insulted. ---------- Krupa, a few questions: 1. What sort of a ship with no human passengers will have 5000 men on it and the payload? Even tankers, ten hundred thousand billion tonne tankers, get to sail with no more than five guys. You serve on galleons carrying gold to the Old World from the New Word, and some of you guys man the oars, while some others play the drums or the whips? 2. Why can't the employer get at least one bloody woman on the ship? I have one in mind, in particular, who could help out the cause. She is a nymphomaniacal woman, she does it for free, and there is no upper limit to how many times she can do it in a day. It would also give me a nice distraction for the duration of the ship's voyage. (I'd stay back on the shore.) WTF are ship owners thinking these days? Is this some sort of North American puritanic socially accepted and welcomed form of torture? I can't sometimes believe what goes on on this stupid word. Who gets a kick out of putting 5000 men together on a ship in a row, and not inject some females in there? Jesus f Christ. Think of the cruelty. All in the name of good Christian morals. I am now becoming psycho, so I had better stop. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I can cuss in.....Three languages!!!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Edited by
wux
on
Thu 01/19/12 07:41 AM
|
|
I grew up, with a mom who cussed constantly, and it wasent anything that she thought was bad.
I was always allowed to cuss. 
Its just me, I cuss alot, but I do have class too. I do refrain from cussing in public, or anywhere that you shouldnt, like church, or when kids are around, and never loud anywhere!. 
And I dont cuss on a first date. 
Im sure you all remember, the thread I did about how I was gonna stop cussing. I do believe it was RKISIT, that said I wouldnt last a week. 
Well he was wrong!!! 
I started cussing again, in less than a week.
love to, yuo are crazy. I am saying it because I know you for being a conscienciuous, love-abiding, church-fearing christian, who does the proper thing by not leaving things off the list. So if this is true, you very likely cuss at funerals, at receptions with royalty, at Death when he stops by to say hello to you. (The old feller, you know, draped in the black bed sheets and suffering from an eating disorder.) You cuss at Santa Clause, who is not a religious symbol so it's okay. He is one of the seven false idols in the Bible. You cuss at the tooth fairy, at the easter bunny, at the yom kippur rabby, at the ramadan inn. You cuss at Raquel Welsh, who is not a false, but, instead, a true idol. You cuss at the spitting dish at waiting rooms, at matre'd-s in restaurants, at movies, when in the Opera, at the races, at the nurses and doctors, at chinamen and europeanmen and africanamericanmen equally. You are the type of woman whose personal habits forced the placement of public "cussing dishes" in airport waiting rooms and in governement line-up offices. You tied the arms behind the hospitality industry, and now we have "cussign" and "non-cussing" sections in restaurants, and if a budy cusses in a room designated as non-cussing in Motel 8 or Howard Johnsons, there is a $250 charge to the patron. That is, to St. Patron, the patron saint of cussing. There are now also cussing and non-cussing patriot missiles. And there is also Miss Iles, whom I did miss in the isle, and married her mother instead by mistake in front of the priest. In New York, LA and Washington City there are cussing ghettos. If you are a Kisser, and wonder into Cusser territory, you are dead meat. They know you from the colour of your handkerchief that is flagging out of your azzole and the other end is tucked neatly into the sockets of one of your eyes in your skull. Changing colours means you sold your soul to the devil, to the FBI, or to Rock'n'Roll. You will be banned by your territory from playing RAP ever again. Fate worse than death in hellfire for ever and ever. If you are Hussar in Cusser territory, it means you ride a horse and cuss from a high horse. Conversely, if you are a hussie, then you'rrrrrrre the cussie for the day in the life of Ivan Denishovitz. You cuss at the little birds and bees, you cuss at all God's beautiful creations. You cuss at the colour purple, you cuss at rain, at snow, at hail, at dry spells. And you are not required to be able to spell. Wet or dry, cold or hot, up or down, in and out, no matter. What a woman...!! You are the best psychotherapy I know. For me, at least. I am still tender, and can still burst out, but I feel a bit better and more confident I won't go psycho just any time right now. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I grew up, with a mom who cussed constantly, and it wasent anything that she thought was bad.
I was always allowed to cuss.
Its just me, I cuss alot, but I do have class too. I do refrain from cussing in public, or anywhere that you shouldnt, like church, or when kids are around, and never loud anywhere!.
And I dont cuss on a first date.
Im sure you all remember, the thread I did about how I was gonna stop cussing. I do believe it was RKISIT, that said I wouldnt last a week.
Well he was wrong!!!
I started cussing again, in less than a week.
Jesus, woman, put it in verse coz this is the kind of the bestest lyrics to a blues song if I ever heard any. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Edited by
wux
on
Thu 01/19/12 08:04 AM
|
|
I grew up, with a mom who cussed constantly, and it wasent anything that she thought was bad.
I was always allowed to cuss.
Its just me, I cuss alot, but I do have class too. I do refrain from cussing in public, or anywhere that you shouldnt, like church, or when kids are around, and never loud anywhere!.
And I dont cuss on a first date.
Im sure you all remember, the thread I did about how I was gonna stop cussing. I do believe it was RKISIT, that said I wouldnt last a week.
Well he was wrong!!!
I started cussing again, in less than a week.
You could also turn this into a country and western song, with only minute changes to the Blues lyrics, to the tempo, to the pitch, to the rhythm and to the tune. In fact, if you sweeten up any blues song with some saccharin and icing sugar, you get country and western, witout even leaving the comfort of your own home. Kids, you can try this ^ at home when mommy is around. I wanted to tell you look like one of them rough love poems on the profile picture you are posting today. A woman in the wild west, perhaps, or a cruel but loveable baroness in Transylvania (Dracula's stomping grounds.) You look there like a wild child of the wolves, or like the Jane of the Jungle, who toughened up in her ten years among the apes and now she rules them there with an iron fist (or with a hot watever. Soup.) In other words, you look poetry on that picture. The best I have seen of you. A rough goddess, who cusses, fusses, and above all, has "love" written in her name in hot, red, passionately pained and rapturoursly flaming ink. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Edited by
wux
on
Thu 01/19/12 08:01 AM
|
|
I look at cursing as linguistic violence which encourages people to accept other kinds of violence. I know that may seem crazy to some people, but I really do. I know this is your conviction by inner values, so I am not going even to even try to talk you out of it. But to the others I say, if this were true, then charity would lead to create peace, a smile would create ladybugs, firebugs would create romance under the stars, studying math would create great engineering feats, and speaking in tongues would help the spontaneous formation of larks' tongues in aspic. If this were true, then Shakespeare would be quoted today on the battle fields, the crusades would bring bunches of flowers, and milk and honey to land of the Ahabs and not deady guns and attrocious hatred. Children's songs would increase the national economic output per capita, and the monetary and fiscal order would return into the homes of church-fearing, black and white households alike. The chinese would deliver, not Christ, and hockey goalies would save, not the Messiah. I so fervently wish that violence of the cussing language would lead to more violence... coz then the above converses also would be guaranteed to work. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Why you miserable cork-soaker! You fargin sneaky bastage. I'm gonna take your dwork. I'm gonna nail it to the wall. I'm gonna crush your boils in a meat grinder. I'm gonna cut off your arms. I'm gonna shove 'em up your icehole. Dirty son-a-ma-batches.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Why you miserable cork-soaker! You fargin sneaky bastage. I'm gonna take your dwork. I'm gonna nail it to the wall. I'm gonna crush your boils in a meat grinder. I'm gonna cut off your arms. I'm gonna shove 'em up your icehole. Dirty son-a-ma-batches. But Torgo... how do you really feel? 
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dangerously....
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dangerously.... 
|
|
|
|
|
|
Edited by
luv2roknroll
on
Thu 01/19/12 01:58 PM
|
|
I grew up, with a mom who cussed constantly, and it wasent anything that she thought was bad.
I was always allowed to cuss.
Its just me, I cuss alot, but I do have class too. I do refrain from cussing in public, or anywhere that you shouldnt, like church, or when kids are around, and never loud anywhere!.
And I dont cuss on a first date.
Im sure you all remember, the thread I did about how I was gonna stop cussing. I do believe it was RKISIT, that said I wouldnt last a week.
Well he was wrong!!!
I started cussing again, in less than a week.
love to, yuo are crazy. I am saying it because I know you for being a conscienciuous, love-abiding, church-fearing christian, who does the proper thing by not leaving things off the list. So if this is true, you very likely cuss at funerals, at receptions with royalty, at Death when he stops by to say hello to you. (The old feller, you know, draped in the black bed sheets and suffering from an eating disorder.) You cuss at Santa Clause, who is not a religious symbol so it's okay. He is one of the seven false idols in the Bible. You cuss at the tooth fairy, at the easter bunny, at the yom kippur rabby, at the ramadan inn. You cuss at Raquel Welsh, who is not a false, but, instead, a true idol. You cuss at the spitting dish at waiting rooms, at matre'd-s in restaurants, at movies, when in the Opera, at the races, at the nurses and doctors, at chinamen and europeanmen and africanamericanmen equally. You are the type of woman whose personal habits forced the placement of public "cussing dishes" in airport waiting rooms and in governement line-up offices. You tied the arms behind the hospitality industry, and now we have "cussign" and "non-cussing" sections in restaurants, and if a budy cusses in a room designated as non-cussing in Motel 8 or Howard Johnsons, there is a $250 charge to the patron. That is, to St. Patron, the patron saint of cussing. Jesus, woman, put it in verse coz this is the kind of the bestest lyrics to a blues song if I ever heard any. You could also turn this into a country and western song, with only minute changes to the Blues lyrics, to the tempo, to the pitch, to the rhythm and to the tune. In fact, if you sweeten up any blues song with some saccharin and icing sugar, you get country and western, witout even leaving the comfort of your own home. Kids, you can try this ^ at home when mommy is around. I wanted to tell you look like one of them rough love poems on the profile picture you are posting today. A woman in the wild west, perhaps, or a cruel but loveable baroness in Transylvania (Dracula's stomping grounds.) You look there like a wild child of the wolves, or like the Jane of the Jungle, who toughened up in her ten years among the apes and now she rules them there with an iron fist (or with a hot watever. Soup.) In other words, you look poetry on that picture. The best I have seen of you. A rough goddess, who cusses, fusses, and above all, has "love" written in her name in hot, red, passionately pained and rapturoursly flaming ink. There are now also cussing and non-cussing patriot missiles. And there is also Miss Iles, whom I did miss in the isle, and married her mother instead by mistake in front of the priest. In New York, LA and Washington City there are cussing ghettos. If you are a Kisser, and wonder into Cusser territory, you are dead meat. They know you from the colour of your handkerchief that is flagging out of your azzole and the other end is tucked neatly into the sockets of one of your eyes in your skull. Changing colours means you sold your soul to the devil, to the FBI, or to Rock'n'Roll. You will be banned by your territory from playing RAP ever again. Fate worse than death in hellfire for ever and ever. If you are Hussar in Cusser territory, it means you ride a horse and cuss from a high horse. Conversely, if you are a hussie, then you'rrrrrrre the cussie for the day in the life of Ivan Denishovitz. You cuss at the little birds and bees, you cuss at all God's beautiful creations. You cuss at the colour purple, you cuss at rain, at snow, at hail, at dry spells. And you are not required to be able to spell. Wet or dry, cold or hot, up or down, in and out, no matter. What a woman...!! You are the best psychotherapy I know. For me, at least. I am still tender, and can still burst out, but I feel a bit better and more confident I won't go psycho just any time right now. 
WTF? 
Do you feel better now, Wux?
How the fu*k, do you know, that I cuss at EVERYTHING? You know me wayyyyyyyyyyyyytoo well. 
You've been stalking me, havent you, ya freak?!?!?! 
Now, just cause you wrote all of that f*cking bullchit, about me, im putting that...... scary, "looks like a wild child, of the wolves, or Jane of the Jungle, who toughened up in her ten years, among the apes, and now she rules them there, with an iron fist, woman in the wild west, perhaps, or a cruel but loveable baroness in Transylvania (Dracula's stomping grounds.)".... ugly azz, vampire lookin, pale, bony, picture back up!
Since the spotlight is on ME now, im gonna write that country song, right now too..... "Mommy Cussed" I grew up, with a momma, who had, a dirty mouth, she was a wild, Cherokee, Kentucy, biotch, born and raised, there, in the south. She never cared, about cussin much, when people, were around, if anyone, gave her, any chit, she'd knock them, to, the ground. Chorus: Ohhhhhhh, mommy, mommy, why did you cuss, and let us, do it, too, cause now I have, a potty, mouth, and I put, the blame, on you. She used the "f" word, all the time, "f" you, "f" this, and "f" that, you could hear her, all throughout, the bar, they all knew, just where, she sat, All of them nasty words, she used, made her, sound like, a sailor, Some people even called us "white trash", cause mommy cussed, and we lived, in a trailer. Chorus: Ohhhhhhh, mommy, mommy, why did you cuss, and let us, do it, too, cause now I have, a potty, mouth, and I put, the blame, on you. So now you know, my story, and I swear, to you, its true, and if you dont like it, its pretty likely, that ill laugh, and say, f**k you, So yeah, I cuss, a heck of alot, and likely will, until, im gone, but dont tell me, thats its soo bad, cause, I learned, it, from, my mom. Chorus: Ohhhhhhh, mommy, mommy, why did you cuss, and let us, do it, too, cause now I have, a potty, mouth, and I put, the blame, on you. by-Roberta Murdock 1/19/12 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
