It seems my whole day has been one giant f-bomb. I had to get off the phone with my partner Dave since my brother’s thunderous "Fuck!’s" were echoing so loud through my house. His tendency is to really utter that fateful word with tremendous passion (perhaps he will elaborate on his techniques on his new blog I gave him for Christmas), while some of us choose to integrate the word creatively (oddly enough, when I’m frustrated, I’m saying "Fuck that catshit"). Then, this afternoon, I had a basketball game, where f-bombs are uttered every other word by players, coaches, fans. This evening, another member of my household trying to get the computer to work, "Fuck this piece of shit." After dinner, my other brother, inspecting my broken window shade in my room: "These fucking cleaning ladies…They think they can break shit without any financial consequences."
And with that, have a great fucking night!
Ahhhh… youthful angst. It’s brings back so many fond memories.
-Matt