After aimlessly meandering through these past
38 glorious years of life, I’ve come to realize the sheer power of the F bomb; and that is, there are some sentences where it should just not be excluded. In fact, its placement is an intrinsic necessity to the import of the question or statement.
Not only may it be used as an adjective, adverb and a noun, but it is the perfect sentence enhancer for when the situation is just right. Kinda like Spongebob and his “sentence enhancers”:
1. Recently, I decided to write this post due to an experience I had while at my son’s music school. I was standing in the office, writing a check and discussing various concerns regarding his music lessons. I was curious to know how he would be accommodated as he has a learning disability. Fair enough. Reasonable concerns. No?
So I’m sitting there… talking with the school’s manager about matters I consider to be relatively private and issues I should be able to discuss with a manager/professional at the school without interruption. Perhaps a stretch? Apparently for them…
Approximately five minutes into our conversation, I fucking kid you not, one of the teachers comes barrel assin’ into the office with a mother of one of the students, and walks directly in front of me. She begins to speak and interrupts me mid sentence, asking the manager about a makeup lesson for her student, as though I was not standing there. As though I were invisible.
Now I’m thinking two things: 1. If I open my mouth RIGHT now it will not come out right. Hold your tongue, Bridgett. Then: 2. Fuck that, I’m saying something.
Me: “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Them: ::blank stares:: ::stammering::
Manager: “She has a half an hour time slot to teach her student, so I need to speak with her, Sorry I hope you understand.”
Me: “No I don’t fucking understand. My son has a half hour “slot” as well. Their time is not more valuable than ours. They can get to the back of the fucking line like everyone else.”
This is a prime example of the F bomb and its power. Without the F bomb, it is possible I wouldn’t have received approximately 15 apologies (as they grabbed my $85.00 check ::ahem::). Additionally, I now have the pleasure of attending piano recitals and people whispering behind my back calling me: “the crazy ass bitch”.
2. When you live in New England and you see this forecast for the first time of the year, and think, “And it begins….
3. One day, long ago, while out shopping I was attempting to enter the Gap with two children in tow. One child decides, just then in the breezeway of the store, where people are entering and exiting… “this is a great time to throw myself on the floor in fit like fashion and thrash about wildly”.
Indeed. Of course, my patience had waned to the likes of a smashed dog turd, so I released a maelstrom of obscenities that still clings to the atmosphere above Methuen Massachusetts. A woman stops in the store’s breezeway (a woman who clearly has no sense of “timing”), and just stands there. staring at me. judging me. her eyeballs verbally lashing my face.
I stand upright from my knelt position, and I release the Kracken:
No words. just a dust trail heaved amidst her feet. the power of the F bomb, folks.
4. Recently, while posting random bullshit on Facebook, I find this video which showed a group of scientists excavating a GIANT anthill into which they poured cement and revealed its intricate infrastructure. I found it amazing and a great tool to enable scientific research, but of course there’s always some ultra liberal tardo who’s gonna whine about the ants.
The same little ant bastards that infest your cabinets in the summer and poop in your sugar bowl then hence your coffee. Fuck ants.
So I post this video to Facebook. I receive a response. I give a response and use the F bomb appropriately…
FYI, Daryl is no longer my friend. He deleted me because he’s on his period.
5. So I’m watching The Today Show, and this poor girl comes on the screen and I think: “Who the FUCK did your eyebrows?” . I cannot avert my eyes from the brow. I could not hear a word that was uttered. I was mesmerized by the sheer girth of the brow. The “F” bomb accentuates your respective level of disbelief and astonishment.
Then I think: “Dear God, am I on acid? Is this real life? Wait….is that a frickin’ unicorn in my kitchen?!”
6. Several years ago (prior to four vaginal ploppings, aka. kids), I was out for an evening of dining at the Bay Tower Room, in Boston Mass. I arrive in an evening gown on Valentine’s Day (craving the lobster bisque). The hostess tells me:
“Oh I don’t see your name here for a reservation. There’s a two hour wait for a table tonight and that’s not even a guarantee. Sorry.”
So I pause, hoping there is a hidden camera and someone is putting me on…. I think, ‘Ok Bridgett, let’s act like a lady you’re wearing your favorite Ralph Lauren gown. Must behave appropriately.’
I stare back at her face. She’s blinking. rapidly blinking. a vapid barbie like stare overshadows her face. her cynical smile mocked me, I knew it…
I unleashed furious rage:
“I don’t FUCKING think so, lady! I called, double check that damn list! I’m not eating at PF fucking Changs in this dress!”
Thirty minutes later I was enjoying lobster bisque. I regret nothing.
7. For most of us who live in New England, we are acutely aware of the “unwritten rules of the road”. That is, blinkers aka. turn signals, and merging are completely optional. Additionally, cutting someone off then going ten miles below the speed limit… par for the course.
In fact, if you have been driving in your car in Massachusetts for the better part of ten minutes and you have not uttered a profanity….. you are doing it wrong. We don’t ask questions such as:
“Is your directional broken?!”
“What are you blind?!”
“Do you know where the gas pedal is?!”
We have a blanket statement, we all know and use frequently. The placement of the F bomb relays our universal displeasure, and that is:
“What the FUCK was that?!!”
Simple and to the point.
8. Your boss. You’re leaving, it’s 5:15 on a Friday and you’re heading to the bar to meet up with your friends for a celebratory end of week drink. He stops you and asks, “Where are you going? You got fifteen more minutes.”
Later you aren’t telling your friends: “I really dislike my boss today.”
No, no, no… later you are telling your friends, three martinis deep:
“fuck that fucking prick.”
Far more accurate sentiment with the F bomb.
9. Jehovah Witnesses. Next time one of those black tie bible thumpin’ weirdos comes knocking at your door, answer and once they hand you their “The Watchtower” literature, ask them:
“You do realize no one ever reads this fucking shit, right?”
They will never come back to your house again. Problem solved. You’re welcome.
10. and I leave you with this, because owls are cool.