Lim­it­ing Foul Lan­guage

The Covington News - - Sunday, march 4, 2012 -

Lis­ten, you and I both know that us­ing pro­fan­ity is an ugly and im­ma­ture thing to do. How­ever, a cuss word or two, when the sit­u­a­tion calls for it, can be an un­avoid­able sin. Let’s say you just dropped a 50 foot oak tree with your new chain­saw, and you watched in hor­ror as the tree crushed your house, which was just 40 feet away. That would jus­tify a pretty good blast of pro­fan­ity and no one would rep­ri­mand you — at least, not un­til you turned the chain­saw off. So, I’m not un­re­al­is­tic. I know there are times when we’re go­ing to cuss and noth­ing on this planet will stop us. It’s a fact.

Well, the prob­lem isn’t that pro­fan­ity will come out in a few rare situa- tions. Nope, the prob­lem is that we use pro­fan­ity like salt. A sprin­kle here; a dash there; a whole gob where it shouldn’t go. So, let’s clean up our acts and have fun in the process. Let me tell you how I did it. Oh, yeah. I’ve been known to use a few choice words, even when 50 foot oaks and crushed houses weren’t in­volved. Let me share my trick to bet­ter liv­ing.

Sim­ply put, you need to find a re­place­ment word or phrase for your fa­vorite cuss words. I re­viewed my vo­cab­u­lary and de­cided that there were some words that had to go. So, now — when I’m mad — I just say some­thing like “Snap­drag­ons!” For this to work, you need to force your­self to say your re­place­ment word when­ever you want to say some­thing more col­or­ful. Once you do that, a whole new world opens up. You can mum­ble some­thing nutty like “Snap­drag­ons!” or “Pickle Snif­fers!” — an­other of my fa­vorites — over and over, and no one will know what you’re re­ally say­ing. They’ll prob­a­bly think you’re crazy, but they won’t know that you’re cussing your head off. Of course, the the­ol­ogy on this is prob­a­bly all wrong. In the end, it’s what’s in the heart that mat­ters, and if you’re say­ing “Snap­drag­ons!” and think­ing “&*#!!,” I imag­ine you’re still sin­ning might­ily. But, let’s just take this one step at a time and en­joy small vic­to­ries. And if you ever do drop a tree on your house, just scream, “Queen Mary in a Coke bot­tle!” at the top of your lungs and see what that does for your rep­u­ta­tion on the home­own­ers as­so­ci­a­tion.

David Mccoy, a self­pro­claimed South­ern Gentleman and Racon­teur-in-train­ing, lives in Cov­ing­ton with his fam­ily.

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