Confessions of an F-Word Addict
May 28, 2009, by Connie Stetson
Hi. I’m Connie and I’m an F-Word addict. (Okay—Now you all say encouragingly, “Hi, Connie”.)
I guess my addiction began when I was a teenager in the late ‘60s. In fact, I’m sure that that word was so forbidden; I’d never even heard it spoken out loud till I was 16, thank you Frank Zappa, but once Pandora’s box was opened, I could not stop myself. I started in the car, in traffic, with the windows rolled up, in bars, at sporting events—well, everyone else was…. Then I amped it up, using a little at first in public, just to be naughty, and before I knew what was happening I was running with a wild crowd. You know, artists, musicians, theater people, users of Maryjane, and unapologetic, irretrievable aficionados of the F-bomb. My mother was aghast.
I began using the F-word as noun, an adjective, a verb, an adverb, anyway way I could torture it, twist it into a sentence, was okay by me. Soon, I couldn’t control myself. That word had become part of my vernacular. I had become a habitual pottymouth, a borderline “vulgar”, as my mother had predicted. I began hanging around dockworkers, construction sites, listening to rap music, went to David Mamet plays; I was an addict.
How did this F-ing happen to me? A nice middleclass girl who was raised to know better? My mother was disappointed. She tried to shame me by telling me that Grimm’s fairy tale where the one step-sister, blonde and pretty—you know, the good girl, and the other step-sister—brunette and of course, ugly, the bad one, (what the F is the title of that ridiculous story?) Anyway, the pretty one spoke sweet words and from her mouth spilled gold coins and the ugly one spoke harsh words (or maybe she was just telling the F-ing truth), and from her mouth leapt toads. Yeah Mom, I got the message. F-ing gag me. But I digress….
I told myself I could quit anytime I wanted, but well, you all know how that goes. I promise myself to clean up my act, but the F-bomb casually and unconsciously leaps from my lips—yes Mom, like toads. Every New Year’s Eve I make the same resolution to quit using, to use the F-word only when appropriate, in bed, or if I’m really, really pissed off in traffic, or at the DMV, or at that guy in my neighborhood who shoots off his F-ing gun three times a day and terrifies my little dog, or—Oh well, there I go again making excuses. F-ing Hell!
I want to thank you all for your support as I continue in my struggle to use my experience for the greater good and to be inspiration to those who wish to get off the word-junk. It is my sincerest desire to dedicate myself to putting an end to language pollution, and I know it all begins with me. Remember—Just take it one F-ing day at a time.
May 28th, 2009 at 6:13 am
Connie, I think you are my new girl-crush. There’s simply no better word! I once dropped it TOTALLY BY ACCIDENT in the corporate boardroom–and apologized profusely, of course–but afterward three people came up to me and said I was their favorite person to work with. Honestly, I practically achieved folk hero status!
Don’t even try to give it up; there’s simply no substitute. Though on my post today in which I rant about f*cking cancer, I do think think I’ve reached a new low. Yep, I believe there may be an expression that trumps the F-bomb. But it does take balls to say it!
What an excellent blog you gals have–so glad I found it!
May 28th, 2009 at 6:53 am
Here’s a little F-word gem I read about (I swear) in the NY Times. If you are locked into a voice-mail hell routine, with an disembodied automated voice giving you all the options except the one you want, which is to talk to a real-live human being, then drop the F-bomb. Loudly.
The reason this works, which is about half the time, is because many corporations actually program their computer listening devices to detect the F-Bomb. The computer will IMMEDIATELY transfer you to a live operator.
Isn’t that a bizarre twist on “customer care”–that they drive you to swearing before you can get what you want? And usually, one only needs customer care AFTER having bought the company’s expensive product or service, which means they’ve taken your money and still won’t let you talk to a real person. What fuckers.
SUCH a great word.
May 28th, 2009 at 7:34 am
Connie, I support you in your recovery. Here’s a tip: I use the work frickin — a lot. It seems acceptable in most, if not all, situations. That said, it does not have the power of the bomb which, when used sparingly, is da bomb.
Oh those frickin’ bad habits…We don our bad habits like a worn-in pair of jeans; they’re hard to let go of even if they make your ass look like big.
May 28th, 2009 at 8:15 am
F-bomb as hand grenade or mushroom cloud? Used strategically, there’s no word more effective. I’m trying to imagine a situation where Emma Peel might use it – that’s what I’m going for. And by the way, Emma Peel was a brunette and the classiest spy ever to fill a catsuit, was she not?
May 28th, 2009 at 8:48 am
My New Year’s Resolution for the past 125 years has been to stop using the F-word. I suspect it will be on my Resolution list for another 125 too. There’s just no other word to replace it!
May 28th, 2009 at 9:39 am
Hi, I’m Wendy and I too am an addict. Ever since I found the power that that word had, it’s been hopeless. I still remember first seeing it scrawled on a bathroom in my NYC elementary school and asking what it meant. And as a teenager, the power to shock was just so much fun. Now it’s just in there, a deeply ingrained habit, and yes, sometimes there are no substitutes. However, I have used Cathy’s “frickin” substitute at times, catching myself at the last minute. It’s funny, when I raised my son, we taught him that he could use those words as long as they were used in the appropriate setting and weren’t used abusively (name calling), and they just don’t have the same charge for him. I do love the comment about automated customer service, though, I can’t think of a more appropriate time to use it!
May 28th, 2009 at 10:57 am
Fuckin’ A, there is no better word. We are a sisterhood, those of us who cherish it. Our sorority pins proudly boast our initials on our modest breasts: FU
May 28th, 2009 at 11:09 am
Add me to the list of addicts, who swear every New Year’s eve to start anew. I blame my parents, who laughed whenever I used it as a kid (although later my mother did warn me that it would become a bad and hard-to-break habit). She was so right. I’ve often felt ashamed around friends like Cathy, who use frickin and other nice words like that. And when, like Vegas Linda, it stumbled out, uninvited, in a business meeting situation. It’s times like those I swear to stop all over again–until I get around someone who uses it freely. Then it feels like having the freedom to march, or start drinking martinis again after you’ve decided to go on a cleanse. Frickin just doesn’t do it for me. Connie, I suggest the next best one, as far as I’m concerned: bloody. Or even better: Bloody, fucking hell!
May 28th, 2009 at 11:40 am
FUCK curtailing your wonderful bombs! …all of them. As long as it is not the 2nd, 4th, 8th word of EVERY sentence you say, what is so bad about it, really?? it carries quite a lot of weight when used in moderation.
you just need to hang out with those of us who truly understand the beauty of that word. i’ll expect you shortly
May 28th, 2009 at 12:05 pm
My fucking peeps. How I love you all. I often fantasize about that fucking ponce, James Lipton, asking me my favorite swear words, which are, Carine, BLOODY FUCKING HELL!!! For shouting out loud, nothing else even comes close.
And Pru, I swear I’m going try that little experiment the next time I’m on hold and listening to fucking Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head until I feel completely fucking lobotomized. Thanks for the tip.
Oh, now look what I’ve gone and done….I’ll have to start my resolution all over again. Anyone want to be my sponsor?
May 28th, 2009 at 12:11 pm
I’m just happy that the FCC doesn’t rule the Internet. Freedom of speech at its fucking best!
May 28th, 2009 at 1:27 pm
I love all of you girls. Every single one of you.
May 28th, 2009 at 2:16 pm
I am all for the “Bloody Fucking Hell” – that really is the best and I use it as necessary. For a little less impact just say Bloody Hell. Fuck is just so useful; A verb, a noun, and adjective, a sound effect…like that. But I LOVE Pru’s tip. If that really works my life has been changed for the better for ever!
May 28th, 2009 at 11:26 pm
O.K. Connie, I am the person you all thought never said Fuck and you had bets on me when I was in the Vagina monologues on how many times I would say it. I think l3 was the official total. I grew up in Utah around the mormons so when I moved to Ca. the F word was so liberating. My mother never liked it either but she did like me so put up with it whenever I said it. As a teacher of second graders it is just so good sometimes to say a real grown up word (but not at school mind you.)I too use the word friggin’ but it really is just a placebo. I love you and the person you are, so just keep saying and being that person.
May 29th, 2009 at 5:09 am
Now in my fifties, I’ve just started using the F-word with abandon — something that would make my mother cringe, making it so much more fun now. Had I been a veteran F-word user by now, the novelty would have worn off.
May 29th, 2009 at 7:25 am
Whoa, Connie. Mega comments! Looks like you hit a fuckin’ nerve!
May 29th, 2009 at 7:28 am
Cindy–You’d think the novelty would wear off, but the more you use, the more you want….
May 29th, 2009 at 10:10 am
Just stumbled on the blog and LOVE it! The F-bomb has been my favorite for years- even more so now that it really captures the essence of the menopause, aging thing. Can’t remember where I put my glasses-F@@@, yet another hot flash in the middle of the night- F@@@, Happy 60th birtday- OH by the way, your job was just eliminated and you’re waaaay to old to get another one at your level.. F-bomb pretty much says it all!
May 29th, 2009 at 11:47 am
Kudos, Connie, for broaching the subject. Sounds like we have enough tough cookies commenting on this blog to found a support group (and I don’t mean to support swearing off swearing, either!)
May 30th, 2009 at 8:49 am
When I was growing up, my mom had reached the end of her rope with all the f-bombs, sh*t-bombs and everything else in between being dropped on a daily basis. So she created a “F**K for a Buck” jar. The rules were simple…you drop a bomb, you put in a buck. She kept a tally and the person that had the least amount of score marks by won the kitty. I walked away that summer penniless.
Great blog and great post! Considered yourself bookmarked!
May 31st, 2009 at 4:57 am
This is too funny. I am right there with you.
June 1st, 2009 at 2:25 pm
Thanks a lot, Connie. I laughed so hard my face hurts. I was raised by my Irish Catholic (mildly sociopathic) grandmother so – you can just imagine. Her child-rearing sessions were heavily laced with phrases like “good breeding” and “polite society.” By the time that I got out from under Grannie’s thumb not to mention the ponderous influence of the Sisters of the Immaculate Conception, I was stuffing so many forbidden things into me and spewing so many forbidden things out of me that “polite society” will still have absolutely nothing to do with me. Oh and did I mention, I am one fucking happy baby boomer.
Cheers Connie, and keep on fuckin’
June 1st, 2009 at 4:31 pm
The proudest moment as a parent is to hear you kid drop the F bomb…I can remember that glorious day like it was yesterday and I know exactly where they got it from!!!
June 2nd, 2009 at 6:43 am
And to think…..I used to get in trouble for saying “Shut Up” when I was growing up. Now it sounds so much better to say “Shut The Fuck Up Already!!!!!”
That’s what I love about you Conz…..We don’t have to pretend or tip toe around you……Fuckin A!
June 11th, 2009 at 12:08 pm
I am so with you. All of you. How can we not use such a spicy, fun word that can be every single part of speech? I know I probably seem really f-ing tacky when I use it all the f-ing time, but what the f?
June 12th, 2009 at 7:40 am
Dearest Conz: Your blog made me recall a roadie named Carl I knew way back when. His communicative skills consisted of “Fuck Yeah” or “Fuck Nah” and sometimes just “Fuck”. It was all in the emphasis. Your “confession” made me laugh out loud.
June 19th, 2009 at 11:26 pm
Where I grew up the F-bomb was an everyday, ordinary, household word. Most of the guys used it every other word, girls used it at the end of statements like, “Oh my fucking word… ” or “Are you fucking kidding me… “, “No fucking shit…” You get the picture. So Connie, you’re not alone. Some of us have been F word addicts since we were little kids, just not in front of our mothers, Oh my fucking word, no… You’re just a late bloomer.