Tag Archives: the eff bomb

Dropping the Funky Bomb

Jesus cursed.  Not the same kind though, huh?

I guess this isn’t exactly the same thing…

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My potty mouth has reached epic proportions. Seriously. I’m ashamed. But not.  So what that my head has turned into a toilet?  Do you know how convenient that can be?

Lately, I’ve been dropping the funky bomb as often as I drop my iPhone.  Which is all the time.  DH has told me he doesn’t like it.  So I try to keep it clean while on the home front.  I try.

But when I’m alone in the car?  Or with friends?  Or talking to myself?  Geez. It’s like I’m on a game show called “The Wheel of Funk.”  And I’m winning by a landslide.

Sure, when I stubbed my toe on the coffee table, it kinda ticked me off.  Or the old lady who thought I wasn’t stopping at the stop sign so she flipped me the bird…that was a three effer.  This past winter was particularly bad.  Every time I bounced my car off of a snow bank, the F’s were flying.  Lordy be.

I was out to lunch with a friend a few months ago.  This friend is a curser.  Like, she’s an F bomb dropper big time. But it seemed the roles were reversed that day. Because she was being so…angelic.  And me? I was letting it fly baby.  I was feeling kind of bad about it.  Kind of.

I apologized to her.  Then started wondering out loud if it was a sin.  I was raised Irish Catholic and although I don’t practice that particular religion any longer, the Catholic guilt will forever be with me.

Because I am me, I never know what my thought process will be.  But I started wondering to my friend about cursing and the really good people of the world.  Did Mother Teresa do it?  How about Gandhi?

And what about Jesus?  I mean he was a carpenter, right?  Surely, he smashed a finger or two with a hammer.  What do you think uttered from his mouth upon inflicting accidental pain upon himself?  “Oh, camel poop.”  Yeah, no.  I’m not buying it.  I’ve hit my finger with a hammer before.  Camel poop just wouldn’t cut it.  I love Jesus, and I would still love him in spite of it.  But it is possible, right?

So, I’ve decided I’m going to write to the Pope about this.  He seems liberal.  Wish me luck.  Can you imagine?  I would be able to take cursing off my sin list.  How liberating.  One down.  499 more to go.