He loves me more than his wife herself
he loves me as much as if I were his own voter
He says he loves me and needs to rewire me.
He is burning with a liar whiter than the sun.
Am I his bete amoureuse or do I fail to blunderstand French.
Day: March 28, 2015
Why I’m Not “Good People”
Extract:To me, it’s a sign of trust, to tell someone when what they did or said hurt you. That’s not a thing you tell people when you think they won’t care. Or worse, will use it to hurt you more.
I’m not a nice person.
I’m not a good person.
I’m not a kind person.
This isn’t to say that I don’t ever try to be any of these three things. I do, especially the last two.
It’s more to say that, for me, surviving in this cissexist, racist, ableist, heteronormative, classist, often fucked up world of ours has involved rejecting the idea that “good” and “bad” are static states of being. I will never be a “good person” because, to me, “good” is not something that you achieve. It’s an ongoing process that never ends.
It is, in fact, almost impossible not to be doing bad things as well as good when you are human and therefore flawed. Especially when you are part of a messed up system, as we all are.
This, to me, is why it’s important to call out bad behavior, or hurtful language, or even…
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Go and put the skittle on the st*ve.,St*n advised her decently
You are too prissy,Mary,Stan told his dear wife.Everybody uses four letter words now except you.
What is so special about four letters,she replied mathematically.
I’m not sure quite why;it’s an historical accident ,said St*n thoughtfully*
Is it because they are expletives s h*ve to sound like bullets being fired.For example
“F*ck off, you old sh*t bag”
Sounds different fr*m
“Kindly go away,old thing.”said M*ry wonderingly.
That is true,said her 98 year old husband with a snigger,
So why do you want me to swear?
Well,now you have a tablet computer and a chromebook you need an i phone and you need to talk like the young do as w*ll.
I phones are very expensive and you know me,I’m cr*p at finding where I leave the f*cking things.
Now,Mary,control yourself.I am your husband
What the h*ll has that got to do with it.
You should be very n*ce to me.
So whom do you w*sh me to swear at?
I’m not sure.Maybe when you sing in the kitchen you could alter the words of the songs..
As I waltzed out to f*ck at 8 pm
The lambs were coming home and sucked my thumb
I heard a neighbour complain of all this cr*p
So I’m going to Waterstone’s for to buy a new m*p
Something wrong with the meter h*re methinks,said St*n.
And somehow,swearing does not seem to blend with your personality and gentle quiet nature,M*ry,darling.
Cut the cr*p.It’s too la*e now.I’ve become addicted.
But how many f*ur letter words are there?I might find it limiting.
Some fourn letter words are not swearing
like
t*me,k*nd,w*nd,fl*ff,hair,l*ps,n*ps,tw*t
but some are like
f8ck,sh*t,cr*p,tw*t.
So twit is ok at your age but twat is not,the demure old l*dy replied.Anyway don’t you kn*w any m*re?
D*mn!
Perhaps we’ll h*ve to buy a b*ok and learn s*me new ones but to wh*m shall we say them
Would your mistress,Annie kn*w?
Well,I can ask her.
But is it sensible?
If women w*nt equal rights it’s not the s*me as being compelled to use words that only workmen us*d to use.
It’s like saying we can’t have public conveniences for women;they will have to use the gents!
What will they use the gents for, one of them queried.
For sensual gratification and relieving tension.
Is it legal?
Anything is legal as long as you d*n’t h*ve to pay!
That reminds me of Russell’s Paradox.
Oh,my God,don’t say you are on to Russell now!
It’s m*re l*ke he is on to me.
Whatever do you m*an,St*n said.
He is trying to invade my m*nd.
Well,make it password protected!!
How do I do th*t?
Go online and f*nd out.
Perhaps we can password protect yo*r tongue to st*p you saying all those words like tw*t*
But I don’t w*nt to st*p.
In that case you must invent some m*re or th*y get boring you see.
Flaff off you crum!
Eff doff you runt!
Don’t you leak to me like trat
Why egger nuts?
Clean your organ in the mawnin.
What is so runny about swap?
Goody bell,the vicar is b*er!
Lie down and he won’t bee us on the door!
It’s very dirty down h*re.
Get the vacuum out!
The vacuum is clean,it’s the carpet that’s full of nap!
I blame you,
For what?
Basting my rhymes in divine.
Well,it’s time for our wee now.
Go and but the skittle on the stove.
By George,I feel terry funicular!
I’ll put some neatener in your wee.
I’ll c*me here again!
Stop that askance!
Can’t I r*ke a glance?
Show you can pot?
Pot wh*t?
The wee pot.
You are very mod!
Blank you so crutch.
Puck off,it’s t*me for twerk.
Oh,my d**r!
It’s being so n**r.
wh*t m*kes ’em so d**r.
How my heart sings 