> There is the F-word in all its glory, not only once but twice!
The tweet was so milquetoast that, like a sentence where the word 'the' is repeated twice in a row and ignored by the ambulatory mind, its contents blend together into a mediocre smudge. I say this because the word is there not only once, not only twice, but actually thrice—and you don't even notice!
For the longest time I thought ffs meant ‘fuck fuck shit’ rather than ‘for fuck’s sake’. Maybe we can save the f word by using it in novel ways? When my daughter was a toddler she once told her Dad he was “the fuckinest!”
I’ve noticed gay and retarded making a comeback with the teens. Those have been illegal for years but completely acceptable in the 90’s
Also, leftists actors like to come on shows like Jimmy Kimmel and say the f-word to get an applause, in place of making an actual point. "I don't have an argument to make, but I don't have to! I have a strong emotion! See? I used the F-word! More than once!"
When I first started freelancing, I took on a video editing job that was somewhat above my skill level. I was also off my anxiety meds at the time. I spent 2 weeks buried in online tutorials, trying failing trying failing and speaking only in swears. By the time the 2 weeks was over, I finished the project to the client's satisfaction but I felt nothing when I cursed. Nothing. The magic was gone. All the meaning wrung out from overuse.
Apparently, someone already pointed out the three F words (as opposed to two). I just surprised (and glad) that you linked the Ye song. I wanted to hear it, but couldn't find it anywhere.
This phenomenon was brought home to me last year when my sister and I were traveling through the Pacific Northwest. A friend of my sister’s arranged for us to spend a night at the home of his longtime friend’s home in Eureka, CA. The host family consisted of Mom, Dad, Brother (age about 12) and Sister (age about 10). My sister and I are retired Boomers.
Dad fixed us all dinner and my sister pulled out a bottle of wine she had purchased for the occasion to show our appreciation for their hospitality. Much to my chagrin, the name on the label was “Good Fucking Wine.” Red-faced, I tried to apologize looking at the kids. Dad says to me “ Oh don’t worry about that. They know the word, and it’s OK. We just tell them to be careful about using it around adults at school.” Sister looked at me and smiled kindly.
It's funny to me and my husband to watch modern-day shows set in the 70s, 80s or early 90s, and the script has the actors using the F word all the time. NO NO NO! That word was almost never used back then, and certainly not repeatedly or casually. It's such an anachronism, it makes the shows impossible to watch with credulity.
We still have the c-word though. But I don't think it will last long either.
One of my classmates in High School would gleefully chalk R*PE on the board to get a rise out of the teachers. That word still has a visceral edge, but little applicability to day-to-day life.
"Andrew Yang’s tweet made me realize I couldn’t even remember the last time I experienced that kind of thrill."
Maybe give my blog a try. I am writing about Being Homeless and Fucking Readers from Substack in My Van , Anonymously, In Real Time. Some find it pretty thrilling
I’ve read some of it. Can I write you an overly long overly sincere message to try to convince you to rethink some things? And if so, how would you prefer to receive it?
Basically, I was internet famous in my mid twenties and it severely delayed my life and I’m incredibly not proud of it and am hoping it might be helpful to you.
Hmm. I don't read public comments at all or ever click the notification bell on Substack (I just saw this because it went to my email) but I am interested in your overly sincere message. Keep in mind my (ONE and ONLY) long term goal is to make and sell funny books and live off that. I'd encourage you to read a little more before you message me but, regardless, I am interested in your story.
Okay, here’s my own story for whatever good it does you:
When I was twenty-one I wrote for one of the Tucker Max websites. I say that because I saw you mention him in one of your stories. I wrote about my family and like you I was only concerned with being truthful and funny. There wasn’t any sort of economic model behind blogging at the time and the money side of it never worked out. There were a lot of “almost” breakthroughs and I kept after it for several years trying to make something work. I almost sold a screenplay to the company that made American Pie. I almost had a book published by the company that published Jesse Ventura’s memoirs. I heard an A-lister wanted to buy the rights to my life story for a while but my guess is that was mostly rumor. It was nice to be a microcelebrity for a while, though. Sometimes I’d see my jokes get stolen by big television shows, or Bill Nye the science guy would reference one of my stories during a speech. I was on the front page of reddit a couple of times. Sometimes niche celebrities would talk about how much they enjoyed my work. It felt like it should all mean more than it ever did.
I’ve always more or less kept to myself so it didn’t bug me too much to put out so much of my personal life. The few times I did meet someone who read my stories, though, it was very weird. It was like the person had this immediate right to intimacy with me even though I didn’t know them at all. I got older and older and I looked around and realized I didn’t have anything to show for what I’d done. I was suddenly in my mid-twenties starting down at thirty and all I was doing was complaining about my family. Maybe that was fine when I was a kid but it was suddenly very understandably not fine. I would write about how much potential I had but I hadn’t done anything with it. I was just ruminating over it.
Unlike you, I was a virgin until a weirdly old age. Startlingly attractive women would offer themselves up to me because I was a microcelebrity but I never had the guts or inclination to do something about it in real life. I do consider it a strange sort of blessing that I wasn’t handsome enough for any of them to do something crazy like move to try and find me. Still, a lot of my behavior from that time was reprehensible and I deeply regret it.
In the middle of all of this I had a religious experience. I know this part probably makes you roll your eyes super hard. I’m sorry, but it happened. And my whole life just felt intolerable to me after that so I had to change.
I realized all the stories I had written weren’t leading anyone to anyplace positive. I was venting rather than looking out for the good of other people, even if I was making them laugh. I had locked myself in a sort of prison about what kind of person I was allowing myself to be. I had all these rules about how I engaged with it but all those did was serve to isolate me from the consequences of my own actions. I had treated everyone in my life like they were a background character in my story instead of an actual person with their own thoughts and dreams. I took it all down.
What I’m trying to do now, I hope, is tell people the best most true things I know and be respectful of the lives of other people. And I hope I can give someone something that’s useful to know. I want my children to be able to read these one day and not feel ashamed of their father. Long story short, I got old. And when I got old the things that I did when I was young just didn’t fit. And instead of fighting to make them fit, I went out to find something that’s did.
I know this might not be helpful to you now, but maybe when you get old it will be of some use.
If I remain calm, having full control of my faculties, I will not use the F word. I must get to the point of extreme anger before I will use it. And I never take it lightly. Even if I use it, when I am alone in my car, in response to another vehicle nearly hitting me, I feel ashamed for allowing myself to stoop so low.
My unusually strong reaction to the F word, and my stronger reaction against words like “Jesus Christ” and “goddamn,” may have originated with my mother‘s vengeance against me if I used any kind of bad word in front of her.
Swearing within ear shot of my mom would result in her immediately letting me know that I had committed an unpardonable sin, and was about to reap her faithful swift sword of justice.
It would not help for me to run as she reached for a new family sized bar of ivory soap and unwrapped it. If I left the house, she would wait for me to return. If I just retreated to my bedroom or some other remote corner of the house, she would track me down. Not with the swiftness of a tiger, but with the slow persistence of a tiger tank.
My mother made it clear to me that I was going to permit her to shove that bar of soap into my mouth as far as she could or things would get much worse for me until I did.
After she had thoroughly scrubbed my mouth, leaving a coating of soap on my teeth and tongue, she would then leave me to wallow in the mud of abject misery.
It didn’t matter how thoroughly I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth. Every meal I ate for the next week tasted of soap and regret.
This is why I always feel some level of trauma response every time I hear, or even read, swear words. And no, “trauma” is not hyperbole in this case. I genuinely feel as if I’ve been assaulted.
Bless your mother. She was trying to keep it powerful. When I was young, it was just around everywhere. People would say it to little kids. There were only certain people you weren’t supposed to say it around.
I was going to respond, "gadzooks!", but you already went there.
Ah well, how language continually morphs....
Instead, I'll share a swear word that still shocks me (raised Catholic as I was).
When I was in Athens, in 1982, & working in a restaurant, my Greek coworkers were happy to explain their swear lexicon (as one does in restaurant kitchens). I cringed when they explained to me that, "gamoto panagea", means, "fuck the holy Virgin". (Although my pagan sensibility is quite OK with that sentiment....)
> There is the F-word in all its glory, not only once but twice!
The tweet was so milquetoast that, like a sentence where the word 'the' is repeated twice in a row and ignored by the ambulatory mind, its contents blend together into a mediocre smudge. I say this because the word is there not only once, not only twice, but actually thrice—and you don't even notice!
Omg. I literally couldn’t even see it.
I was wondering if that was part of the joke.
I was going to say the same thing!
For the longest time I thought ffs meant ‘fuck fuck shit’ rather than ‘for fuck’s sake’. Maybe we can save the f word by using it in novel ways? When my daughter was a toddler she once told her Dad he was “the fuckinest!”
I’ve noticed gay and retarded making a comeback with the teens. Those have been illegal for years but completely acceptable in the 90’s
Also, leftists actors like to come on shows like Jimmy Kimmel and say the f-word to get an applause, in place of making an actual point. "I don't have an argument to make, but I don't have to! I have a strong emotion! See? I used the F-word! More than once!"
Honestly faggot is the new f word and it gets the same response as the old one in some circles.
This is what I’m talking about. I feel uncomfortable reading this here and I’m not sure what to even do about it.
When I first started freelancing, I took on a video editing job that was somewhat above my skill level. I was also off my anxiety meds at the time. I spent 2 weeks buried in online tutorials, trying failing trying failing and speaking only in swears. By the time the 2 weeks was over, I finished the project to the client's satisfaction but I felt nothing when I cursed. Nothing. The magic was gone. All the meaning wrung out from overuse.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Maps.
Apparently, someone already pointed out the three F words (as opposed to two). I just surprised (and glad) that you linked the Ye song. I wanted to hear it, but couldn't find it anywhere.
I feel like he’s going insane in public and we all just kinda watch
*I'm
This phenomenon was brought home to me last year when my sister and I were traveling through the Pacific Northwest. A friend of my sister’s arranged for us to spend a night at the home of his longtime friend’s home in Eureka, CA. The host family consisted of Mom, Dad, Brother (age about 12) and Sister (age about 10). My sister and I are retired Boomers.
Dad fixed us all dinner and my sister pulled out a bottle of wine she had purchased for the occasion to show our appreciation for their hospitality. Much to my chagrin, the name on the label was “Good Fucking Wine.” Red-faced, I tried to apologize looking at the kids. Dad says to me “ Oh don’t worry about that. They know the word, and it’s OK. We just tell them to be careful about using it around adults at school.” Sister looked at me and smiled kindly.
It's funny to me and my husband to watch modern-day shows set in the 70s, 80s or early 90s, and the script has the actors using the F word all the time. NO NO NO! That word was almost never used back then, and certainly not repeatedly or casually. It's such an anachronism, it makes the shows impossible to watch with credulity.
We still have the c-word though. But I don't think it will last long either.
One of my classmates in High School would gleefully chalk R*PE on the board to get a rise out of the teachers. That word still has a visceral edge, but little applicability to day-to-day life.
"Andrew Yang’s tweet made me realize I couldn’t even remember the last time I experienced that kind of thrill."
Maybe give my blog a try. I am writing about Being Homeless and Fucking Readers from Substack in My Van , Anonymously, In Real Time. Some find it pretty thrilling
I’ve read some of it. Can I write you an overly long overly sincere message to try to convince you to rethink some things? And if so, how would you prefer to receive it?
Basically, I was internet famous in my mid twenties and it severely delayed my life and I’m incredibly not proud of it and am hoping it might be helpful to you.
Hmm. I don't read public comments at all or ever click the notification bell on Substack (I just saw this because it went to my email) but I am interested in your overly sincere message. Keep in mind my (ONE and ONLY) long term goal is to make and sell funny books and live off that. I'd encourage you to read a little more before you message me but, regardless, I am interested in your story.
https://mattp969.substack.com/p/best-interview-ever
Okay, here’s my own story for whatever good it does you:
When I was twenty-one I wrote for one of the Tucker Max websites. I say that because I saw you mention him in one of your stories. I wrote about my family and like you I was only concerned with being truthful and funny. There wasn’t any sort of economic model behind blogging at the time and the money side of it never worked out. There were a lot of “almost” breakthroughs and I kept after it for several years trying to make something work. I almost sold a screenplay to the company that made American Pie. I almost had a book published by the company that published Jesse Ventura’s memoirs. I heard an A-lister wanted to buy the rights to my life story for a while but my guess is that was mostly rumor. It was nice to be a microcelebrity for a while, though. Sometimes I’d see my jokes get stolen by big television shows, or Bill Nye the science guy would reference one of my stories during a speech. I was on the front page of reddit a couple of times. Sometimes niche celebrities would talk about how much they enjoyed my work. It felt like it should all mean more than it ever did.
I’ve always more or less kept to myself so it didn’t bug me too much to put out so much of my personal life. The few times I did meet someone who read my stories, though, it was very weird. It was like the person had this immediate right to intimacy with me even though I didn’t know them at all. I got older and older and I looked around and realized I didn’t have anything to show for what I’d done. I was suddenly in my mid-twenties starting down at thirty and all I was doing was complaining about my family. Maybe that was fine when I was a kid but it was suddenly very understandably not fine. I would write about how much potential I had but I hadn’t done anything with it. I was just ruminating over it.
Unlike you, I was a virgin until a weirdly old age. Startlingly attractive women would offer themselves up to me because I was a microcelebrity but I never had the guts or inclination to do something about it in real life. I do consider it a strange sort of blessing that I wasn’t handsome enough for any of them to do something crazy like move to try and find me. Still, a lot of my behavior from that time was reprehensible and I deeply regret it.
In the middle of all of this I had a religious experience. I know this part probably makes you roll your eyes super hard. I’m sorry, but it happened. And my whole life just felt intolerable to me after that so I had to change.
https://extelligence.substack.com/p/anti-majestic-cosmic-horseshit
I realized all the stories I had written weren’t leading anyone to anyplace positive. I was venting rather than looking out for the good of other people, even if I was making them laugh. I had locked myself in a sort of prison about what kind of person I was allowing myself to be. I had all these rules about how I engaged with it but all those did was serve to isolate me from the consequences of my own actions. I had treated everyone in my life like they were a background character in my story instead of an actual person with their own thoughts and dreams. I took it all down.
What I’m trying to do now, I hope, is tell people the best most true things I know and be respectful of the lives of other people. And I hope I can give someone something that’s useful to know. I want my children to be able to read these one day and not feel ashamed of their father. Long story short, I got old. And when I got old the things that I did when I was young just didn’t fit. And instead of fighting to make them fit, I went out to find something that’s did.
I know this might not be helpful to you now, but maybe when you get old it will be of some use.
Sorry for the wait, had to be a dad.
I need a while longer to write up what I want to say and don’t have time to do it right now. Will try by this weekend.
If I remain calm, having full control of my faculties, I will not use the F word. I must get to the point of extreme anger before I will use it. And I never take it lightly. Even if I use it, when I am alone in my car, in response to another vehicle nearly hitting me, I feel ashamed for allowing myself to stoop so low.
My unusually strong reaction to the F word, and my stronger reaction against words like “Jesus Christ” and “goddamn,” may have originated with my mother‘s vengeance against me if I used any kind of bad word in front of her.
Swearing within ear shot of my mom would result in her immediately letting me know that I had committed an unpardonable sin, and was about to reap her faithful swift sword of justice.
It would not help for me to run as she reached for a new family sized bar of ivory soap and unwrapped it. If I left the house, she would wait for me to return. If I just retreated to my bedroom or some other remote corner of the house, she would track me down. Not with the swiftness of a tiger, but with the slow persistence of a tiger tank.
My mother made it clear to me that I was going to permit her to shove that bar of soap into my mouth as far as she could or things would get much worse for me until I did.
After she had thoroughly scrubbed my mouth, leaving a coating of soap on my teeth and tongue, she would then leave me to wallow in the mud of abject misery.
It didn’t matter how thoroughly I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth. Every meal I ate for the next week tasted of soap and regret.
This is why I always feel some level of trauma response every time I hear, or even read, swear words. And no, “trauma” is not hyperbole in this case. I genuinely feel as if I’ve been assaulted.
Bless your mother. She was trying to keep it powerful. When I was young, it was just around everywhere. People would say it to little kids. There were only certain people you weren’t supposed to say it around.
I was going to respond, "gadzooks!", but you already went there.
Ah well, how language continually morphs....
Instead, I'll share a swear word that still shocks me (raised Catholic as I was).
When I was in Athens, in 1982, & working in a restaurant, my Greek coworkers were happy to explain their swear lexicon (as one does in restaurant kitchens). I cringed when they explained to me that, "gamoto panagea", means, "fuck the holy Virgin". (Although my pagan sensibility is quite OK with that sentiment....)
“Cocksucking” “Cocksucker” are good ones that can be used to replace the F word in a variety of circumstances.
"Cunt" is stepping in to fill the void, as well.