Monday, October 10, 2005

Political Correctness Gone Mad

Late last night, on the way to a friend's new house, I found myself a bit lost. Not terribly lost – I knew where I was, but was fucking fairly clueless about where I was going. Standing in the light of some kind of swankyarse abortion of a modern vegan fusion restaurant in Stoke Newington Church Street, I consulted my trusty pocket A to Z. Despite this mild confusion, I was feeling pretty good. And I wasn't even drunk.

A tiny voice interrupted my sensitively lit cartographical studies.

"Trick or treat!"

Somewhat startled, I looked up and found myself staring at a miniature Satan standing in the dark street, complete with trident. It was a bit fucking alarming.



"Oh shit!" I exclaimed.

"Oh shit?" repeated the kid, a well-spoken girl of about seven years old.

Uh oh. Over her shoulder, I could see her mother approaching, merely a few steps out of earshot of the new word I'd inadvertently taught her daughter. No, no, no, my eyes implored the girl, for fuck's sake, shhhh!

"What's 'oh shit'?" she said, again.

There was only one thing for it. I immediately hotfooted to somewhere else, treating her only to a few compliments on her deeply freaky costume, hastily called out from over my shoulder.

At this point in my life, it is unlikely that I will stop swearing. I fucking love swearing, as a matter of fact – it's part of my heritage, my culture, and I think I'm pretty good at it. I'm not one of the greats (do a find-on-this-page search for "roaring purple vagina") but I feel I foul up my language certain amount of flair. So what's to be done about this? How can I avoid accidentally exposing innocent young minds to dirty words like this?

Well, don't fuckin look at me. It's the parents you need to be talking to, if you want my opinion. I mean, what the hell? How can this child not know "shit"? When I was her age I was honing my skills with the likes of Pishflaps, Cuntarse and Felchspoon, for the love of christ - and those were just my friends. "Shit" was a word for the little kids.

I honestly don't know what this country is coming to, when a person can't turn the air blue in the street without risk of making some precious little fucking bubble boy burst into tears, his outraged parents clamping their mitts over his unsullied little virgin ears. Fuck that! Parents, do your goddamn jobs! Clearly these kids aren't getting the education they need in the nation's playgrounds anymore, a sorry indictment of the modern era if ever there was one.

Please, I beseech you. The future depends on you, you sanctimonious fucks! Don’t go cleaning it up. Start your home schooling here.

8 Mewling Pricks

At 12:00 am, Anonymous Anonymous ejaculated...

Just click this link and you will see gr8 website - elosu

 
At 12:20 am, Blogger Hugs O'Toole ejaculated...

Despite the spectre of spam hovering over my post here I will attempt to agree with my angry colleague without resorting to a heated debate with myself over how the fuck what the fuck and who the fuck etc. With regard to the spam question that is. I assume that's what elosu's post is, otherwise the very pointlessness of the post would have me awake all night staring into the murky black of the drizzly cold.
Piss. Crap. Hole. (Hole really is a filthy word. Try calling your mother a hole. See if you get away with it)
I too vow to go on swearing into the future. As long as there are Slant Points to compare to cocks, jerks to rube and wank jokes to invent. Not while wanking, however, as it takes the mind off of the the sex images I go to great lengths to conjure.
As long as there are movies like Mission to Mars where Gary Sinise can, with a straight face, tell Don Cheadle "Mars is yours now" I will spit and fume and screech the words our foreparents (for I am no sexist) have given us. Fuck you, you fucking fuck.
Hip Hip
Hoorah!

 
At 10:22 pm, Blogger littlemissprincess_86 ejaculated...

Hmmm. OK Huggy:

a) Turn on the word verification thingy on your settings to stop spam comments
b) Serves you right for going out in poncy Stokey in the first place
c) From your account it sounds as though Mummy didn't actually hear or reprimand you, so your entirely pre-emptive embarrassment suggests that beneath the hateful exterior, you are actually far too polite and well brought up for your own good.

I would have had a go at Mummy for pimping her little darling out on the streets nearly THREE WEEKS before Halloween. And for perpetuating a disgusting American imported custom. You should have told her to fuck herself and the Volkswagen Touareg she drove in on.

 
At 3:28 pm, Blogger Snotty McShot ejaculated...

a) Yeah I know, I probably should, but I hate those fucking verification things.
b) It's a rancid poncehole alright - I dunno what time it was, but the Fresh'n'Wild was still packed full of people buying their organic peas. The good thing is that just 100 yards away, down on the High Street, it starts getting sketchy as hell, and it consoles me that those in the swankier areas might be living in a state of permanent abstract fear as a result. I was only passing through, anyhow.
c) 'Tis true - sometimes I act all Hugs, even when I'm thinking Snotty. Impotent rage is my speciality, anyway. I'm a seether.

But what the fuck huh? 3 weeks? And what am I supposed to do, have a pocket full of sweets and shit in case I get stopped? Bad enough the little fuckers turn up at your house without them shaking you down in the fucking street.

 
At 10:37 pm, Anonymous Anonymous ejaculated...

shoulda handed the little shit a parcel of your own...

 
At 8:46 am, Blogger Well Placed Comma ejaculated...

The last link is broken. Also, three weeks before Halloween? Should be shot.

 
At 9:57 am, Blogger Hugs O'Toole ejaculated...

Link fixed.

 
At 2:36 pm, Blogger Well Placed Comma ejaculated...

Thanks.

...Although, I have just had a warning message come up from the College, so I may be in smeg now - thanks.

Oh, also, you know you'll still get those automated comments until you activate word-verification.

 

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