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| jobs, daughter, jack straw., anime, simpson, great, barbs, beach, 200, technology, vestax 07 pro, journal, tupac shakur, 50cent the massacre, nathan rabin, dirtyjokes, terrible, girl, dirty humor, remote access, bush, sports, savage love, hip hop board, | and "motherfucking printer jam whore!" The hard part was when we eventually had to gear down for the occasional meeting with non-obscene suits. Inevitably at one rap point or another, a totally unintentional "cocksucker" would come flying out of someone's mouth, greeted with the brief, stony silence usually reserved for a moist fart. merlin <spamATUndisclosedLocation.com> I'm waiting for it to slip into inconsequentiality. Ever since I found rap out that "Roger" used to be a verb of similar function, I've been itching to name my first born "Fuck". It's only a matter of time rap before all epithets degenerate into common names... "Shit! Great to see you!" "Fuck! No way! I thought you were in Vegas with Asshole?" "No, I broke up with Asshole. |
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| (His mother is as much of a pottymouth as I am and his grandparents are very tolerant.) lia Long ago, when I was but a wee child, I awoke one remote access morning to find my lower eyelid swollen and painful. I wandered out to my older brother -- my font of knowledge -- as he watched Saturday morning cartoons and told him that "sumtin is wong wif my eye." He announced that I had a boner and remote access should ask my mother about it. I promptly padded downstairs, looked at my mother remote access and said "I have a boner!" She stared at me wide eyed, breakfast sizzling on the stove as I repeated "In my eye! I have a boner!" Needless to say, my foul mouth was born that day and hasn't ceased in producing unimaginable strings of expletives since. Evan <ejayATzenmotorcycle.org> During a couple stretches at an old job, an unbroken string of long days would cause our language to grow increasingly salty, especially after dusk, when exhaustion would set in. We'd be so giddy, brain-dead and frustrated (and largely unproductive), and our inter-cube communication was often reduced to a slurred torrent of "cocksucking Netscape bullshit," "Can't you fucking kick it, you bitch?" |
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