As of about seven days ago we have a swear jar.
No, this was not my idea.
Yes, I hate it.
I think it is the dumbest f**king thing I have ever seen with both of my f**king eyes in all of my entire f**king life.
Why?
Because, for as long as I can remember I have been an intelligent, well-read and well-rounded woman who has a particular talent for weaving profanity into a tapestry of brilliance – in my own mind anyway --, which is the longer way of saying, “Because I cuss…a lot.”
While I might be rather progressive when it comes to relationships – and the roles people play in them --, I am old fashioned when it comes to doing things for the man that will make him happy. And what would make him happy (and, frankly the right thing to do) is set a better example for my daughter. So, I will unabashedly follow his lead -- because, as much as I hate to admit it, he is right...just don't tell him I said that -- as he is the head of the household, and because I respect him so much.
Although his latest brilliant idea? Not my &(#@$& favorite. (Old habits die hard)
Upon agreeing to said swear jar from Hades, I created a status update on Facebook and Twitter that read (I’m paraphrasing), “A swear jar? I’ll be broke by the end of the month….okay, okay…..week…..okay, okay…..day……okay, okay….hour.”
Even though I’m not broke (YET), I do feel a little lighter in my pockets since that evil little jar (I am pretty sure it is possessed by the devil or something) made its way into our humble home. Because, in all honesty, knowing it's there, lights a fire in my own rebellious nature to want to curse even MORE.
I can't win for losing.
In less than 7 days that &^^%$%# jar has swallowed $17.20 of my (*&(*^&^$^ hard earned %^&$%$@ money. If it was a human being, I would punch it in the *(&*&%#@$ face.
Hard.
And while you might think that there is some hefty penalty for each curse word that finds its way from my lips to God’s ears, it’s not. It’s a paltry 10 cents per swear.
I told you I *(&*&%%$ curse a lot.
So, basically, I just front-loaded the jar with $20 and will fill the rest up with IOU’s until the end of the month. Kind of like how the government treats social security.-- I'm kidding....kind of.
Why?
Because I &*%&^%#$&^ despise that (*&%&^$^%*( little jar of ^&^$%#^&( mockery that has now quickly become the bane of my existence and somehow feel an innate need to punish the little &*$!@# thing.
That’s &*(^*&%#$ why.
*(()&(*^&%^^(&*) Yours,
Miss Adventures
No, this was not my idea.
Yes, I hate it.
I think it is the dumbest f**king thing I have ever seen with both of my f**king eyes in all of my entire f**king life.
Why?
Because, for as long as I can remember I have been an intelligent, well-read and well-rounded woman who has a particular talent for weaving profanity into a tapestry of brilliance – in my own mind anyway --, which is the longer way of saying, “Because I cuss…a lot.”
While I might be rather progressive when it comes to relationships – and the roles people play in them --, I am old fashioned when it comes to doing things for the man that will make him happy. And what would make him happy (and, frankly the right thing to do) is set a better example for my daughter. So, I will unabashedly follow his lead -- because, as much as I hate to admit it, he is right...just don't tell him I said that -- as he is the head of the household, and because I respect him so much.
Although his latest brilliant idea? Not my &(#@$& favorite. (Old habits die hard)
Upon agreeing to said swear jar from Hades, I created a status update on Facebook and Twitter that read (I’m paraphrasing), “A swear jar? I’ll be broke by the end of the month….okay, okay…..week…..okay, okay…..day……okay, okay….hour.”
Even though I’m not broke (YET), I do feel a little lighter in my pockets since that evil little jar (I am pretty sure it is possessed by the devil or something) made its way into our humble home. Because, in all honesty, knowing it's there, lights a fire in my own rebellious nature to want to curse even MORE.
I can't win for losing.
In less than 7 days that &^^%$%# jar has swallowed $17.20 of my (*&(*^&^$^ hard earned %^&$%$@ money. If it was a human being, I would punch it in the *(&*&%#@$ face.
Hard.
And while you might think that there is some hefty penalty for each curse word that finds its way from my lips to God’s ears, it’s not. It’s a paltry 10 cents per swear.
I told you I *(&*&%%$ curse a lot.
So, basically, I just front-loaded the jar with $20 and will fill the rest up with IOU’s until the end of the month. Kind of like how the government treats social security.-- I'm kidding....kind of.
Why?
Because I &*%&^%#$&^ despise that (*&%&^$^%*( little jar of ^&^$%#^&( mockery that has now quickly become the bane of my existence and somehow feel an innate need to punish the little &*$!@# thing.
That’s &*(^*&%#$ why.
*(()&(*^&%^^(&*) Yours,
Miss Adventures
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