Friday, March 17, 2006

Fuck me

Because in my day job I inhabit a macho, man's world I tend to swear a lot. All the time actually. It doesn't mean anything. Sometimes though the swearword gets picked up, analysed and thrown back at you in an amusing way.

Here's some standard rejoinders.

"Fuck me!" you say in amazement.

To which the polite response is, "Not while there's still dogs in the street."

or

"Fucking hell!" you say, even more amazed.

"Let's hope they do," is the suitably pious reply.

And now, after an exhilarating day, I'm knackered. Emotionally drained as you can see. I'm off to get quietly pissed, slumped in a corner, listening to "The Wrecking Ball" by Emmylou Harris, which I've just bought.

Have a good weekend, you hear.

4 comments:

  1. One from school:

    "Fuck me? Fuck ME? I'm the Archfuckingbishop of Canterbury. Fuck me? Fuck YOU!"

    Don't ask me why we thought it was funny, but we did, at the time. And they were heady times. (Do I see the filmy outlines of a book in the hempen mists? "Potheads Revisited"?)

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  2. I don't know why it's funny either but it is. I'm cracking up here...it's hilarious.

    My eyes are watering...thank fuck we're all crazy.

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  3. Emmy Lou Harris is great for a sing-a-long when you're pissed. Try her "Leaving Louisianna in the Broad Daylight". (was written long before Katrina).

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  4. Okay, Storyblook, you've talked me into it. I'll get pissed tonight and test your theory.

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