There’s a good reason why that term isn’t “giving offense.” It’s up to the subject to decide how to react. Perhaps I’ve numbed myself or maybe I just don’t care, but I rarely take offense. I find it healthier. As soon as my left index finger hovers over the F key, I can hear an old woman somewhere gasp. Oh, lighten up, you crusty old curmudgeon.
Some reviewers—whom I won’t mention by name, but would like to boot in their pretentious booties—react to my words by telling the world my humor is foul and crude. I stare at the review and wonder, Why did you subject yourself to 300 pages of it in the first place?
I don’t like Tommy Bahama shirts so, when shopping at Nordy’s, I don’t go near the rack covered in shades of beige and ferns. I don’t pick up one of these obnoxious old-man labels, try it on, and then tell every other shopper how repulsive I find them.
Why are people who take offense to curse words the same people who can’t miss the news showing blood smears, rape victims, and casualties of war (not to mention Geraldo Rivera’s porn-stache)?
Fuck.
Ooh, did that hurt? No, it didn’t. Stop. It was not crude. It’s a word, you silly goose. In fact, it’s the most versatile word in our language. Taking offense to it is akin to taking offense to air in the form of a breeze.
Don’t be such a pussy.
Oh … my … gawd: He said the p-word! Yes, I did. I love pussy. There, I said it again. Pussy, pussy, pussy. Hairless, glistening, pinkish pussy with lusciously puffy lips. Does that sting? Tough beans. It makes me feel good to say it and, in fact, enter it. It’s also versatile (referring to the word here). Imagine the world without pussy. I’d have to use the politically correct version: va-jay-jay. Yu-uck-uck! I can’t call one of my baseball teammates a va-jay-jay when he squeaks after being hit by pitch. He is absolutely a pussy—an embarrassingly brittle pussy.
What’s crude about the word “shit,” shithead?
I’d rather be called a shithead than a poop-head. I am more highly offended by poop. When women say poop, it gives me agita. I don’t want to think about it. I just got the chills. Women can say shit, crap, and turd, but never poop. Add fart to that. No woman should say or do fart, especially on national TV, Kendra. Women also should never “take a …” They can pee, tinkle, and wiz. Even better, they can powder their noses.
How do dickheads and douchebags find my books anyway?
Oh, sorry. Should I have used the more politically correct version, d-bag? Here’s a solution: Stop taking things so literally. When I say a reviewer is a douchebag, I do not mean that she’s full of piss and vinegar (although she could be). I mean she’s a clueless retard. Uh oh, I said retard and that’s totally vulgar and unacceptable. Wait a minute. Aren’t most retards clueless and thus unaware of the offense? At least I didn’t say she was a fat retard. It is not insensitive to retards when I say somebody is retarded just as it is not insensitive to me when somebody is called hairy-assed.
Lighten up and laugh a little, will ya? I’m going to go wax my hiney now.
Some reviewers—whom I won’t mention by name, but would like to boot in their pretentious booties—react to my words by telling the world my humor is foul and crude. I stare at the review and wonder, Why did you subject yourself to 300 pages of it in the first place?
I don’t like Tommy Bahama shirts so, when shopping at Nordy’s, I don’t go near the rack covered in shades of beige and ferns. I don’t pick up one of these obnoxious old-man labels, try it on, and then tell every other shopper how repulsive I find them.
Why are people who take offense to curse words the same people who can’t miss the news showing blood smears, rape victims, and casualties of war (not to mention Geraldo Rivera’s porn-stache)?
Fuck.
Ooh, did that hurt? No, it didn’t. Stop. It was not crude. It’s a word, you silly goose. In fact, it’s the most versatile word in our language. Taking offense to it is akin to taking offense to air in the form of a breeze.
Don’t be such a pussy.
Oh … my … gawd: He said the p-word! Yes, I did. I love pussy. There, I said it again. Pussy, pussy, pussy. Hairless, glistening, pinkish pussy with lusciously puffy lips. Does that sting? Tough beans. It makes me feel good to say it and, in fact, enter it. It’s also versatile (referring to the word here). Imagine the world without pussy. I’d have to use the politically correct version: va-jay-jay. Yu-uck-uck! I can’t call one of my baseball teammates a va-jay-jay when he squeaks after being hit by pitch. He is absolutely a pussy—an embarrassingly brittle pussy.
What’s crude about the word “shit,” shithead?
I’d rather be called a shithead than a poop-head. I am more highly offended by poop. When women say poop, it gives me agita. I don’t want to think about it. I just got the chills. Women can say shit, crap, and turd, but never poop. Add fart to that. No woman should say or do fart, especially on national TV, Kendra. Women also should never “take a …” They can pee, tinkle, and wiz. Even better, they can powder their noses.
How do dickheads and douchebags find my books anyway?
Oh, sorry. Should I have used the more politically correct version, d-bag? Here’s a solution: Stop taking things so literally. When I say a reviewer is a douchebag, I do not mean that she’s full of piss and vinegar (although she could be). I mean she’s a clueless retard. Uh oh, I said retard and that’s totally vulgar and unacceptable. Wait a minute. Aren’t most retards clueless and thus unaware of the offense? At least I didn’t say she was a fat retard. It is not insensitive to retards when I say somebody is retarded just as it is not insensitive to me when somebody is called hairy-assed.
Lighten up and laugh a little, will ya? I’m going to go wax my hiney now.
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