The Future Coot of Yesteryear

Post CCXLI

Here’s the story of swearing, teenage angst, and yet more swearing.

I hate to sound like a crusty old fart, but children didn’t swear back in my day. Or the ‘90s, as they were otherwise known. This is a family blog, so you’re gonna have to fill in some gaps, and even if you do manage to do that, I can only apologise in advance for this. “Oh, will you f*** off you f****** ugly f****** c*** – what a f****** weirdo – I’ll beat the shit out of you, I will.” When did 13-year-old girls start swearing like that? At me. Specifically me. I wasn’t even doing anything! I turned around a corner, stood at a set of traffic lights, looked across to see if the button had been pressed, and there was a group of girls there, and one started swearing at me! I can only presume she thought I was looking at her, but I wasn’t. It was awful, readers. I mean, I’m not the prettiest turd in the shop, but I thought ‘ugly’ was a bit harsh…

I have to question her use of grammar. We know her etiquette is shocking, so let’s ignore that. Lesson one. When it comes to swearing, young lady, less is more. Far too many F-bombs. It smacked of somebody getting up to deliver a big speech in front of a big crowd and they suddenly realise they’ve forgotten their notes. So you start mumbling like some crazy coot. Less is more. Top tip. But – also, you know – don’t… don’t swear at strangers, too. Also a top tip.

Secondly, the C-bomb is never acceptable. At any age, but especially at such a young age. Also, I mainly hear that word used as a slang term for a part of the female anatomy. But I don’t look anything like a vagina. I mean, if you said, “You ugly shed”, sure, I wouldn’t have been that offended. If at all. Because I do resemble a shed. You know, that rickety old wooden thing looking all neglected in the corner of the garden that no one really seems to notice. You could even say that I looked like a brick shit-house, to use northern English parlance, and I wouldn’t care. But no, no, no. Never the C-bomb.

Thirdly, ‘ugly’. I mean, really? To pick on someone’s looks is the lowest of the low, even though you’re 100% accurate. Sure, it’s right to pick someone up on their constant staring if that’s what they’re doing, but I wasn’t! I was standing there for about three seconds. I mean, she must have had a bad day at school. I’d had a long day working, too, but I’m not taking it out on strangers. I definitely overheard her saying afterwards to her friends, in a loud whisper, “What a f****** freak, he was proper staring at me like.” But I wasn’t. God, please, why are people so awful these days? Can’t we all just get along?

To use yet more northern English parlance, she was a right ratty arsed little madam…

In case you’re thinking she might have been talking to someone else, I was the only person there. She was looking right at me. All vitriolic and mean.

Fifthly. Sixthly? What am I up to? Fourthly? Hmm. Anyway, ‘weirdo’? Oh, man. I don’t need reminding that I’m weird. She’s weird. Am I right? Who swears at a stranger? In particular, one almost double your age! What are her parents teaching her? Was she trying to look cool in front of her mates? They were very impressed. Sounded impressed. All, “Ooh!” and “Ah!” High-fiving her like she’d just won an Olympic gold medal. In evil-doing…

Eighthly, you’ll beat the shit out of me? Why? For standing at a set of traffic lights! Oh my God, I’m the worst monster in history, lock me up and throw away the key! Jesus. Also, no offence, but you’re a 13-year-old girl, you don’t have much chance against a nearly 26-year-old fully-grown adult male. And that’s not sexist – I’m sure a fully-grown 26-year-old woman could beat me up with little effort.

“Oh, I’m in jail because I stabbed someone to death. What about you?”

“Ah, me. Well, I beat the shit out of someone standing at a set of traffic lights causing me literally no bother whatsoever.”

Eleventhly, missy, how are you gonna react when a boy your own age takes a liking to you? Because I know what teenage boys are like. Awkward. Ungainly. Socially inept. Three things that befall us when we’re in the presence of a lady. We gawp all the time. We don’t know what to say. What is that 13-year-old girl gonna do when that happens? Punch him in the groin? Wouldn’t surprise me, to be honest…

It’s not even that bad, when you think about it. No, really. My next-door neighbour has a young teenage daughter and one of her friends was visiting this week. About the same age. Her mum dropped her off but she was having a right old argument with her. God’s honest truth, I heard her say, “Oh, mum, will you f*** off – you’re such a f****** idiot!” Now, I don’t like being on a high horse – I’m terrified of horses for a start – but I don’t think that’s right. Our parents bring us in to this world. They raise us. They spend a bucket load of cash on us. They make us happy when we’re sad. They sacrifice so much for us. And through it all, they never ask for anything in return. Not to mention the whole ‘giving birth’ palaver. I mean, I’ve never been pregnant – I’d be more than a tad startled if that did happen – but pregnancy sure looks like it hurts a lot.

What did her mum do? Tutted and drove off. That’s it! Have you ever tried taking a phone off a teenager? It’s amazing how quickly they apologise.

“Oh, no! What am I going to do without my Twitter!”

WHO CARES! IT’S SHIT ANYWAY! Try talking to someone, like we did in the old days…

It’s not even that rare a thing, sadly. I’ve been called the C-word four times this week, all by strangers. One was a guy leaning out of the window of a van full of young people. I mean, the insult wasn’t nice, but I have to applaud his endeavour. I mean, leaning out a van going that fast is quite the feat. It’s amazing he didn’t fall out. Bravo, young man. You deserve an award for that one. For going to such lengths to make someone feel bad for no logical reason whatsoever? Truly remarkable.

At least I can’t feel any worse than I do right now. I mean, it’s not like there’s a day coming up that reminds me and every other unattached person on Earth how unbelievably lonely we all are.

Oh, wait…

Author, Shannon L. Alder, once wrote: ‘Swearing doesn’t make your argument valid; it just tells the other person you have lost your class and control.’

Peace Out :|:


I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the ‘Archives’ page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.


Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post

Hark Around the Words
New Post Every Sunday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post


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