Ah… the wonderful the world of profanity.

Profane Poultry - the most delicious kind
Profane Poultry – the most delicious kind

You stub your toe: “SH*T!”

The asshat in front of you stops because the light JUST barely turned yellow and you both totally could have made it to work on time: “MOTHER F*CK!”

Your computer won’t load quickly enough. You drop a fork on the ground and have to pick it up. You try to use your defroster while the sticker is still on the opening, causing you to get a hand full of deicer. Your ipod won’t sync. The guy you think is leaving his parking spot for you at the crowded mall is actually JUST arriving.

The dumbest, most ridiculously lilliputian bullshit in the world mounts in your mind, skyrocketing your stress level… until finally… FINALLY… you get SO enraged that you come up with my all time favorites in the world of daring diction: The Almighty Compound Curse Word:

“SH*TMOTHER!”

“ASSBREATH!”

“F*CK-A-DUCKING-C*NT!”

Don’t you love that last one?! I mean, imagine – if you will – a vagina that’s literally ducking the attempts to be penetrated by… Okay. Nevermind. That’s kind of rapey when we get too technical with the semantics; but hilarious, nonetheless.

Just a few gems I learned from my mom when I was a wee bit, studiously taking notes.

Anyway…that’s all well and good; but, what I don’t understand is a certain popular phrase everyone seems to use to either preface or follow said expletives when among a crowd of people who they aren’t sure might be easily offended:

“Pardon my… French…”

French? Why French? Think of all the languages you know that sound the most like the most offensive words you know.

I could think of German when I hear the “F” bomb:

ANGRYgerm

I can even think of the rolling R’s in Spanish when I think of “Crap”, or “whore” which sounds kinda like “joder” (a real Spanish curse word that feels gratifying to say when upset).

I think of every obese, rude, lazy American in general when I think of profanity and its use.

angryamerican

I mean that’s believable. After all, angry Americans just eat when they’re angry.

Or sad.

Or happy.

Or apathetic.

So, why French? Yes, French people get angry. But I’m willing to bet that even their profanity sounds prettier than our prose.

I'm always right.
I’m always right.

But, for serious – hot chick aside – let’s check:

Yep. Pretty much on point!

Sidenote: Above video education led me to an idea for a cartoon I’m surprised didn’t already exist. So, I now have dibs on its creation:

Please don't make me explain the joke...
Please don’t make me explain the joke…

Anyway, Merry Holidays and stuff. I hope you guys get tomorrow off unlike myself.

*grumbles obscenities under breath*

xoxo
<3~A