12.09.10

what’s a good substitute for swearing? drugs.

It’s probably a good idea to sit down; I have some disappointing news. I fucked up really messed up this week. Well, not that much…I’ve only cursed 19 times since Monday morning. I’ve been keeping track. And hey, at least I’m honest about it. I must be a saint. 

The count would have been a lot higher, but I concocted a brilliant substitute for swearing.

Drugs. All kinds of drugs. Crack cocaine, crystal meth, marijuana, heroin, LSD, ecstasy…. really, the list is endless.

I wasn’t going to share my little trick with you, but my big generous heart won out, so here’s the plan:

Every time you feel a swear word reaching the tip of your tongue, immediately substitute a drug. 

I accidentally kicked the toilet yesterday (don’t ask). Instead of my usual, I shouted with passion and vibrato, “CRYSTAL METHAMPHETAMINE!”

It worked like a charm.

Because I care about my health (not really, we had some veggies languishing in the fridge), I juiced this morning. Since my juicer hadn’t seen the light of day for a while, it was a process just to get one small cup of juice.

I had to find all the parts, rinse off all the dust, wash all the veggies, cut the veggies to fit the juicer opening, juice the veggies, then immediately rinse the parts so they wouldn’t “crust,” and then I was ready to enjoy my juice.

Since I’m 30-years-young and I’ve got the coordination of a brand new baby, instead of grabbing the cup, I knocked it over.

“CRACK COCAINE!”

I’ve gone through so many drugs, I’ve resorted to looking up slang for variety.

Angel dust, people. It’s not just something they sell at Victoria’s Secret.

The best unintended side effect is that Cal now associates all drugs with horrible mishaps and she’s less likely to become a druggie. I’m not cursing AND I’m teaching my daughter a valuable lesson. BAM! I’m a genius. 
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On a drug-related (not really) note, my mom has been suffering from insomnia. She’s tried all sorts of remedies but she’s still having trouble sleeping. I thought about suggesting a little pot, but she might like it a little too much and turn into a druggie granny and then I’d lose my best babysitter, so I’d like a little advice, folks.

Any insomnia cures?
photo via blueq.com

December 9, 2010
12.06.10

Monday Dare: everyone’s got a talent. even me.

Every Monday, I’m picking from the List of Things to Try, Places to Go, Possible Acts that Help and Possible Fun to Have. It’s a list I made before The Project started and I’m still adding to it. If you have suggestions, please, feel free to throw them my way. I’m calling the list my Monday Dares, as I get overwhelmed just looking at the words “challenge” or “goal.”

This week: I will not swear. I am not shitting you. 

It’s a good thing I’m perfect in every other way because swearing is really my only shortcoming. Well, I guess swearing and that nasty shopping habit. Okay, and maybe my driving skills aren’t exactly stellar either. Fine, you beat it out of me, I’m pretty hopeless as a charades partner.

Fuck it. Swearing may be my only talent.

Do you have a Quarter Jar in your home? If I need to explain this concept, you don’t have one, which means you and your well-behaved spouse don’t have a problem with cursing. This probably also means that we couldn’t be friends because I believe in having friends that curse. This puts us both on an even playing field, and no one party can be too “judgey.”

We have a Quarter Jar. It used to be the Dollar Jar, but Harv and I were bleeding so much money into the jar that we hardly had enough left in our wallets for groceries. Just kidding. We had enough for groceries, but no fun date nights. Just kidding. We had enough for date nights, but what fun is a date night if you can’t swear? Cussin’ and wine-in-a-box. Ain’t git better than that.

Here’s where our Quarter Jar went awry. First, our Jar wasn’t an actual jar with actual quarters. Instead, Cal drew a picture of a jar on a sheet of paper and stuck it on the refrigerator. Every time we said a bad word, we were simply supposed to draw a quarter in the jar. Except, Harv and I would draw the quarters exceptionally big, and Cal would try to draw them representative of their real size.

Why were Harv and I drawing them so big (also known as the Quarter Jar Gone Awry Part 2)? We let Cal pick our “punishment” for filling up the jar. Her pick- take a family trip to the bookstore and each of us would get to choose a book. Yes, that’s right folks….I could “shit” and “fuck” my way to a brand new book. Every time we slipped, we drew a big, fat quarter in the jar. One of mine even took up half the page.

(On a related note, I am thinking about writing a book on Parenting with Morals and Values.)

Before you get all judgey, you should know that ALL THREE of us contributed to the Quarter Jar. I caught Cal drawing a quarter in the jar, and I asked her what it was for. She admitted she had said the “B” word. Puzzled, I blurted out, “You said ‘Bitch’?”

“No, Mommy….’Butt’.”

(On a related note, I am still thinking about writing that book on Parenting with Morals and Values.)
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Ever let a word slip when you didn’t mean to? How do you handle swearing?

photo via blueq.com

December 6, 2010