Saturday, 3 April 2010

Duck!

PLEASE NOTE:  There are some rather rude words in this post!


Round about now, my collection of ducks usually makes an appearance.


My favourite is Digby


and he is the archetype of a concept that really irritates me


faux swearing

It did make me laugh when Marathon Runner gave him to me a few years ago, though.

This concept was quite cleverly summarized in a book, also given to me by Marathon Runner last year, called "Is It Just Me or is Everything Shit?"

"Strolling past The Shop Formerly Known As French Connection, have you ever been driven to splutter, giggle, tap your companion's shoulder and exclaim, 'Look, look - it almost says FUCK'?  I rather think you haven't.
Similarly, when you hear a panel show called Stupid Punts, there is unlikely to be a mass gasp of shock.  Maybe some old people would be shocked - but they're unlikely to be watching BBC3.  (Actually, most people are unlikely to be watching BBC3, but you take my point.)  During the fox-hunting debate, there wasn't a news source in the land that could resist a cheeky play on the word 'fox'.
There is nothing big or clever about pretending to swear.  If you want to be big and clever you need to call your shop Spunky Fucking Tit-Monkey's Arsing Cockarama and Co.  Now that's swearing."
Some people swear.  Some people swear a lot and some people don't swear at all.  That's life.  We have a choice.


Do you think he's saying: "Shit, there's a sodding ladybird on my conk!"
Or: "Oh look, a Coccinnella 7-punctata has landed on my rostrum!"

I swear.  My husband doesn't much.  One of my children does, the other doesn't.  They are just words; an amalgamation of letters in a particular order.

However, I wouldn't dream of using the word 'ginormous'!

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