If I could be bothered to go back and check up on the exact statistics then I could be a little more precise in this matter, but I can’t so we’ll just have to settle for the more general statement that follows instantly: this journal seems, to date, to have been a relatively cuss-lite zone. Something of a surprise to many people to whom I’ve spoken in person, perhaps – particularly those who’ve heard me at work – but for the most part I’ve managed to lift my mouth out of the gutter before putting finger to keyboard. This is a much-desirable state of affairs, if you ask me (although you don’t have to, seeing as how it’s my journal and I’ll tell you what I want regardless of any quizzing or lack thereof on your part) and one that will doubtless continue after the one brief hiccup that follows herein.
You see, dear reader, I fear that today’s subject is going to involve and indeed require a fair-to-middling amount of swearing, as befits my current mood. As we shall see, such language will be pointed in a very specific direction and will not be used without consideration and justification.
For those of you who started to drift off during the above, here it comes again in greatly-abbreviated form: the following post may contain naughty swear words, so if you’re easily offended by foul language, I suggest you stop reading and perhaps crochet yourself a new hat or something. I don’t really want to listen to anyone whinge about my swearing, so if you don’t want to read such profanities I suggest you do yourself a favour and don’t give yourself an opportunity to be a cunt about it.
So, now the cheap shots are out of the way, on we go. What in the world could drive me to feelings so vitriolic that I seem unable to express them using non-sweary words? Well, in a way I’ve only myself to blame, but I’m very much afraid that I’ve been watching the ITV. Continue reading