I shall start this entry in a reserved, polite way before I- @!% …start swearing. Now, really, anyone who knows me well will know that I’m not the swearing sort. Except for baby swear words like shit and whatnot (which is not a swear word, but never mind). I don’t even use medium swear words like b*tch, not to swear at someone, or bulls**t, which my mum insists is not a swear word, neveryoumind, and I certainly don’t use the major ones like the big F and I certainly don’t bring the person’s parents into any of my ranting and swearing ‘cos I make it a point to respect the person’s parents no matter how foul-mouthed and incorrigible he or she is.
BUT. That doesn’t mean I don’t have an ample, well-stocked supply of disparaging remarks or derogatory phrases. Granted, I may lose out to most of my friends on the hard-to-pronounce-but-even-harder-to-understand hokkien swear words because I lack the perversity of mind to find the golden connection between certain seemingly ingenuous objects and human body parts, specifically those of reproductive function.
So I replenish my word bank with less-than-common ones that thankfully, don’t sound as bad as their cruder counterparts so I can escape with my pride chipped a bit at the sides but still relatively unscathed, and most of all, in good graces, which I can never hope to accomplish in a full-tilt swearing session. I really don’t get how people can spout off swear words so easily.
(By the way, why do they call it a swearing-in? I can’t imagine prefects swearing while holding up their right hand solemnly. Go on, picture it and laugh.)
I mean, arse sounds so much better and polite than ass. More refined, even, if you pair it with just the right amount of head-tilting, look-down-the-tip-of-the-nose snobbishness. (but don’t overdo it or you’ll end up leaning backward) And succinct. Can you stand going all scientific and shouting ‘Gluteus Maximus!’ every time? Whew. Number one, it’s quite a mouthful, and not something you can manage when you’re angry. Number two, it makes you look stupid. Geeky. Nerdy. A raving lunatic. Either way, it pulls you further down the rungs of the social ladder and out of your inner circle of friends. I could be exaggerating this one. But it does make you look idiotic with the capital I. Point taken? I shall continue.
As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted… *glares*
… okay, I was not interrupted, nothing of the sort. Just thought it would be fun to sound professional. But I digress again. To start with, this post wasn’t even supposed to waste a good 2800 or so characters (spaces included) on the hows and whys of swearing. How do I know? Well, I did a draft in my phone at around 1am in the morning after you smsed. I wouldn’t want to waste my time planning on the computer and mashing the keyboard out of anger, and anyway I’ll most likely get distracted and go back to playing the b*tchy game Sorority Life. Okay! Back to the point, or I’ll never get back on track. Someone should seriously advise me against getting too carried away in my blog posts. 3200 characters, and I haven’t even started on what I really wanted to say. Any reader other than You-Know-Who can stop here if you’re getting tired of scrolling down ‘cos it is going to get very, very nasty. I estimate another 8000 characters.
If you are not afraid, please continue scrolling down.
By the way, I just came up with an idea for the title ‘A Swearing in Session’. It can be read two ways, but I’ll leave you to figure out since I noticed you’re way too smart for your own good. Should decipher it pretty quickly anyway. Think it’s a great pun ^^
ANYWAY. Back to business. I have been swearing in my head since… oh, let’s see… hmm, at the time where you first smsed! Wow, what a coincidence! Well, let me tell you, I don’t care what your number-dunno-how-many thinks. You’d think a little lady like her would have the presence of mind to behave in another person’s house. And tell her to mind her own business. She didn’t need to read my diary. Even though it was lying invitingly on the table. And she especially did not need to read it OUT LOUD in front of you. She could have kept quiet, and I would have been her BFF- best friend forever. Heck, I could even pretend I’m okay with the fact she’s dating you even though she’s waaaaay older, and there’d be no need to kick up such a huge fuss and wash our dirty linen in public. People might even think we like arguing with each other.
Sheesh, I can’t believe I’m defiling my blog instead of your tagboard to save both our sorry faces. In case you didn’t know, your blog has WAY too much hi=uman traffic. Whciich I don’t get why, ‘cos my blog is obviously better and my posts are FUNNIER. And with more effort than your posts with random quotes and stuff koped from songs like
‘F***ING TIRED! I HATE SO-AND-SO FOR GIVING SO MUCH WORK!!’
or,
‘I could really use a wish right now~’
You’re probably going to protest and spam my mobile or vandalise my tagboard with indignant messages or even go as far as to haul your sorry butt off the couch and demand your brother to drive you over but I don’t care. I’m done being the meek little girl in the past who admired your boldness and daring, the girl who worshipped your charm, the girl who was childish enough to be happy when you said you’d fight my brother to marry me or ask my parents to adopt you (because our childish minds believed that since our mums and dads married each other, we’d marry our siblings)…
She really deserved the punch on the arm I gave her. I didn’t even hit her hard. And she didn’t cry, didn’t she? So stop acting like she did. She just looked at me with those fake blue eyes of hers with the stupid long false eyelashes and said something about me being silly and not understanding grown-ups and I should get over that childish crush of mine. Hel-lo, that diary entry was six years ago. Should have looked, didn’t she? Does she even know she was being toyed around by you? Maybe, or she wouldn’t have gotten so testy about our relationship. Not that there’s one. But the way she acted, you’d have thought there was. Then, realizing it was going nowhere, the precious darling ran from the house, saying she wanted to break up with you. So dramatic.
Naturally, you were angry. Not at me, as I had feared, but at her- her, the first girl who had the gall to even suggest a break-up after so many countless others. I watched, incredulously, as you called her, whispering to me to keep quiet and winking conspirationally at me and
Putting the call on speaker for my benefit. I know- we all knew she was expecting a tearful apology, something along the lines of ‘I’ll never let my bratty cousin come between you and me again’. Well, she was well and truly not expecting (to tell the truth, neither was I) you to snarl, “Let me tell you, b*tch, no one breaks up with me. I’m the one who does the breaking up. So… as of today, I’m washing my hands off you.”
The whole thing was a drama plot cliché. And your speech was something I swear you must have got off somewhere. And the poor girl was too stunned to warble so much as a retort. Gleefully, I watched as you hung up on her, erased her from your contact list, then proceeded to turn on your laptop and log onto facebook and msn and remove her from your friends’ list, then blocking her. A series of practiced moves that can only be achieved by executing it again and again. Drama in a cupcake, all in the space of a little more then ten minutes. Bite-sized, fresh from the oven, and good to go. I didn’t even have to turn on the TV.
It would have ended on a happy note. But no, you had to tell me off too. Yada yada yada, how I should not resort to violence, etc etc, now I need to find a new girlfriend… Please, you can live without a girl for at least half a day. At least this girlfriend lasted so briefly she didn’t get your phone number or it’d be ringing non-stop. I shall expect you to be uncontactable for a few days while you wait for all the hub-bub to die off.
I hope this blog post has kept you so busy reading you don’t have time to call your next girlfriend! I lost count. The thirty-fourth girl to think you’re really true to her.
Just don’t tell her that :D
(and I hope not many people scrolled all the way down to here)
