The Cuss Word

There should be a form of art called swearing. Or cussing. Because it stands to reason that if you can use words like 'Wanker', 'Tosser', or 'Knockhole' in a well constructed sentence, you are about as likely to do it as beautifully with ordinary words in everyday sentences. Like 'Fetch my slippers, Margaret'. Or if you like, 'Fetch my sodding slippers, you wanking baboon shaped wart on my testes!' Unless, of course, you don't enjoy swearing. In which case, you're just a smelly old dildo.

And if you're bad at swearing, maybe you're just bad at literature, or any thing creative, but just don't realise it. Like it is with Chetan Bhagat and writing.

Anyway, it has come to the point where my day starts with texting everyone I know. And it is not unusual for people I know to wake up and find messages of the general nature of "What are we doing today, fucker?" on their phones. Upon which they might reply with some snark. "Fuck knows". Which warrants "Then call Fuck. Ask him what the fuck we're doing." And finally 'Fuck' ceases to be confined by jargon, and assumes a living, breathing manifestation of its own sweet nature. Fuggggggggggggg. It's beautiful. *Sniff*(tear).

Here's a snippet.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_osQvkeNRM