Which c word you ask?
You know, THE c-word. That one. The one you daren’t utter…the cu..
Yes, that one.
Not that it upsets me. It’s only a word after all. In fact it has special significance as ohs first ever sentence to me was “I hear you’re not offended by the word c-word”. .although he actually said it. That word.
I always feel naughty using the c-word. Not that I use it very often. I can’t swear at all in real life during the day as I’m the oh so proud mother of a parrot toddler, so all my swearing either happens online or late at night.
I get a small thrill from dropping f-bombs, although the thrill is often accompanied by a feeling of fleeting freedom. A moment where I have been able to say what I want to say without having to sanitise it to nothingness.
So, when the c-word was dropped, I went a bit crazy with heady abandon.
Then…well, it was short-lived. Someone quite rightly reigned it in. No, not even that, just gently reminded me that the platform I was using was public. Fair enough. But I then felt awful, like I’d made some huge catastrophic mistake. The conversation turned to how it was in common use not so long ago and I, while battering myself emotionally decided it was a good idea to put forward some ill-informed theory that the c-word was a name for a sword sheath and f-bombing was the process of placing said sword in the sheath.
I have no idea where the theory came from. I’m pretty sure I read it while looking up rude words in a dictionary once. Maybe.
Anyway, to purge myself of the shame, I showered, scrubbing for 20 mins, while feeling utterly horrified at myself for typing the c-word.
I don’t feel odd spraying “shit” everywhere and throwing “twats” around so why the f should the c-word make me feel so ashamed? Erm…figuratively of course.
I’m going to put the c-word back in its little cage for now.
(Disclaimer: this is entirely my own paranoia and is in no way a dig at the conversationalists as I think you’re all lovely. Mwah.)