Tag Archives: i am fucking fabulous

Habitat for Profanity

Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November …

It is that time again.  You know the one I am talking about … cults of insanity.  No, I am not going to even attempt to do NaNoWriNo after my eight word masterpiece (otherwise known as The November 2009 Epic Fail) but I really need to get back into the groove of writing/blogging every day. When all else fails, there is always another freaking meme going around.  This time it is a 30-day challenge that has been going around on all the kewl fuckers blogs.  While I am usually not a follower, I am wearing my T-shirt for the next 30 days.  Hopefully, this will not be bloggercide.

Here goes nothing something.   The topic for day 1  is something you hate about yourself.  Who did this?  Really?  Why can’t we start off with something easy like What did you do on summer vacation? Boo. Hiss.  And Other Expletives.  Eureka!  That’s it!  Believe it or not, I hate my casual and frequent use of profanity.  It has been a lifelong struggle.  Sybil smacked me in the mouth and washed it out with Lava soap more times than I can count.  Like Hemingway said of his efforts in The Sun Also Rises, I have tried to reduce profanity, but I have to admit that I like its cathartic effect.  I believe that honesty is always the best policy, and there are times that I aim to be abusive, blasphemous, and expressive.  Simply put, profanity provides relief.  I Read Banned Books is my outlet, sanctuary, and habitat for profanity … it always has been and always will be.  Yes, I know I do not need to use profanity but there are times when I want to use it.  Show some respect for my use of expletives, and remember that not only am I going to hell but I will be driving the bus.

Please note the absence of profanity in this post.  Well, butter my buns and call me Biscuit!

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Channeling Hemingway

In The Moveable Feast Ernest Hemingway said, “All you have to do is write one true sentence.  Write the truest sentence you know.” Well, lately that has been easier said than done on this here blog o’ mine.  Higher Ground High School has been a daily source of entertainment and potential blog fodder, but some of the most bizarre things that have been uttered in my office need individual posts and explanations of their own.  With that said, I cannot resist but list some of them here for you in complete random and out of context order just the way you (and by you, I mean I) like them.

  • His street name is Burnt Toast … because he’s really dark-skinned.
  • I didn’t beat his ass for realz; it was a friendly fade.
  • He hit his head on the big dude’s fist.
  • No, the floor was wet, and I slipped and hit my head on the labatory.   (Me:  The lavatory?)  Yeah, the zink.
  • All white people are not Mormons; some of them are devil worshipers.
  • You got some ashy ass lips … Where yo chapstick?
  • All I said to the teacher was “Damn.  We got another 20 minutes of this shit.”
  • (On a discipline referral which I later had to read aloud and explain to a parent) H****** referred to the other student as “Douche Bo Baggins.”
  • (singing) I like to move it, move it.
  • I can’t describe what she is wearing today because it is definitely something you have to see for yourself.
  • Gurl, you need to take yo bebe to the doctor; something is wrong with her eyes.
  • I  drank a forty for breakfast.
  • You ain’t no gangsta; I’ll show you gangsta just as soon as yo ass is in my car.

When I look back at these one true sentences, I recall another great Hemingway sentence:  “The good parts of a book may be only something a writer is lucky enough to overhear.” Won’t I be a lucky girl someday if this much is true? 

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This, That, And The Other

THIS is what happens when you Google post title ideas looking for clever images to add to your boring post ideas. Just when you think you know all that there is to know about Viggo Mortenson.  You discover he is a spoken word recording artist.  Seriously, I never thought of Aragon as a treehugger.  Ah, yes, the album referenced in this post’s title is “dedicated to all trees, living or dead, inhabited or not.”

THAT belief about yawns being contagious is totally true.  As you may already know, I unconditionally love elephants, but just looking at this made me yawn.

AND THE OTHER:  Well, what do you know?  This post has to be the most random ever turned out to be my usual absofuckinglutely fabulous.  I might make this a regular late-night-I-ought-to-post-something-before-bedtime-series.

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Straight But Not Narrow

Yes, I am an ally.  Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Someday the open-minded will let love rule the world.  Support love.

I have been a Lenny Kravitz fan from the moment I heard this song, and I have always associated it with supporting equality.  Coincidentally, this song is always his answer when asked, “If God asked you to play a song for him, what one would it be?”

What a concept.

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I Tumble For You

Just when you thought I couldn’t get any more Psycho Hose Beast on you, I open a Tumblr account.

If you do the Tumblr thing, follow me there too (unless you want me to go voodoo).  I’ll mostly cross-post the posts I make here, but there will be some things you can only find there.

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Prejudice is the Child of Ignorance

Screaming, insolent, belligerent female student whose cell phone was confiscated for parent pick-up only: Shit! I hate you fucking white bitches!

What I wanted to say: We prefer to be called cracker ass crackers, but only we can call each other cracker.

What I said: I hear you, but for the record I don’t see color.  Don’t you listen to MJ?  It don’t matter if you’re black or white.  Woo-hoo.

What I should have said: Freedom comes with an educated mind.

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News Junkies, Word Nerds, or Shredding Machines?

The Holy Terrors never met a Sunday newspaper they did not like. They are especially fond of the ones we haven’t had a chance to read yet and leave on the coffee table.

Yes, they shredded the whole thing, and this picture only shows a portion of their four-hour reign of terror. This is a prime example of what little fuckers they are. Alas, Boston terriers are just like potato chips ~ you cannot have just one.

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