Learning and Unlearning How to Swear. (Not for the faint of heart)

When I was five I had a black Shetland pony. One day as I was riding her through our pear orchard she managed to drag me off under a tree branch. Then, of course, she ran up the road to the barn. I was so mad! I walked up the hill to our house then went to find my dad.
"That son of a bitch bucked me off!" I declared pointing in the direction of the loose pony.
My dad tried hard not to smile, but then he got stern.
"Sister Girl, don't you swear. It  isn't ladylike."

I can't remember swearing too much after that, although I knew what the word Fuck was. Shit was probably used when my Mom wasn't around. My brother was a butt head, my sisters were dorks.
That was before I became a Teamster in 1978.

In Teamster land every other word was Fuck. Fuck was a noun, an adjective and a pronoun.It was a state of being. It was used to emphasise a point or to scare someone or to tease someone or to relieve stress or pain or to put the fear of God in someone.  We didn't use many other swear words, that one seemed to do it all.
I was a Teamster for a very long time, and my Dear Hubby was one for twice as long.
Some times people will say that they were raised by wolves to convey that their upbringing was lacking in social graces- my kids apologize by saying they were raised by Teamsters.

There is a study that states swearing help alleviate pain-kinda like a dog yelping when you step on his tail.
I agree. Nothing makes me feel better than a sharply voiced swear word when I stub my toe or bark my shins.
Of course what you consider swearing and what I consider swearing might be two different things. In Shakespeare's time Zounds was considered the ultimate horrific swear word! It was short for 'Gods wounds',which was a direct slap in the face to our Savior. Actually most swear words didn't deal as much in bodily functions and insults as they did in sacrilegious behavior.
During Victorian times the word  leg was scandalous. One just didn't talk about a person's appendages!
All this I tell you so I can confess-

Hello. My name is Vaquerogirl and I swear. It has been seven days since I last uttered profanity.

It's not that I enjoy it. It's just that I can't help myself. It's a downward spiral. I guess I haven't hit bottom yet.
I'm trying not to swear. Now that I work in a smaller office, with a few folks more 'prudish' ( read not ex teamsters) than I.

It's one fucking  step at a time.

 Fucking Let go and let God.

The fucking program works if you work the fucking program...

No dirty jokes, no witty remarks with profane punchlines. I can't even use the un PC verbiage for an idiot anymore. Saying that I am a mentally handicapped individual just doesn't ring as true as my usual - 'Gosh I'm a fucking retard.'

Saying 'Oh Fudge Caps' and 'Silly Water' just does not strike fear, loathing or envy in ANYONE! And it certainly does not relieve any stress.

I'd take up smoking to cope- but you know how that would turn out.

Z'OUNDS!