The president says it, you say it, your kids say it all the time. So what's the f--ing problem?
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/gate/archive/2007/06/13/notes061307.DTL&nl=fixMy grandmother's face used to scrunch up like she just stepped in dog droppings whenever she heard it.
My own cherubic and supercute mother rarely used to say it but has become much more friendly with it over the years because, you know, what the hell, and now whenever she launches an f-bomb or even an s-bomb she almost can't help but smile a little sheepishly afterward, like her own mother is looking down from the heavens and making that face, or if my mother's really angry and the cuss is meant to be a serious exclamation, well, it's almost impossible not to smile yourself, like you just heard this really adorable squirrel pass gas.
Me, I remember my first time. Somewhere around 7 or 8 years old, just chillin' on my bike in my Spokane 'hood on a warm summer's eve, a gaggle of other boys scampering around (there might have been girls too, but at that point girls were still incredibly toxic and hence my brain would not have registered their existence) and everyone just doing boy stuff.
Suddenly, it happened. From outta nowhere, one kid launched a never-before-heard "screw you" at some other kid and all chattering stopped as we all sort of looked at each other as if to say "huh?" and "what was that?" while this weird electrical charge shot through the air like creamy peanut butter on fire. ...