Comments on: Salty language

By: Ardis Parshall

Ardis Parshall — Sat, 17 Mar 2007 22:49:28 +0000

My dad never cussed, at least in front of us. He’d say things like “that was meaner than a witch’s left eyebrow.” When he’d smash his thumb with a hammer, out would come “ratza fratzen frickenlooper rasnaritch!!” and he — and we — would be laughing by the time he got through it all.

Dad and his older brothers raised themselves on a farm in New York, two counties away from their parents. I really don’t know why he didn’t grow up cussing like a demon.

By: Susan M

Susan M — Tue, 13 Mar 2007 03:03:45 +0000

Chad Too, let me guess…You’re a rodeo clown?

I was raised by non-LDS parents who hated swearing. I think it stems from my dad’s father being a violent drunk. Anyway, my dad rarely got angry, but when he’d did, boy, look out.

He’d use words like, “fiddlesticks!”

By: Chad Too

Chad Too — Tue, 13 Mar 2007 01:18:56 +0000

I work in an industry where salty language is the norm. Reeeeeally salty. Men and women alike.

It’s gotten to the point where it just rolls off my back. I don’t participate, but it doesn’t really bother me anymore. Oh well.

By: marcus

marcus — Mon, 12 Mar 2007 22:48:40 +0000

When I was 8, my family was visited Salt Lake City. My mom was off somewhere, so my dad took his seven kids, whose ages range from 17 years to 7 months, to tour the visitor’s center at temple square. When we get to the baptismal font on the backs of the oxen my dad decides he wants a picture. We’re standing there in front of it posing for the shot, and my dad says, “O.k. Now say bulls***!”

By: jose

jose — Mon, 12 Mar 2007 21:17:52 +0000

A fellow missionary who grew up on a farm was once corrected by the mission president about his language . The missionary’s response: “But President, I grew up around s***, it has always been s***, and it will always be s***.”

By: Kevin Barney

Kevin Barney — Mon, 12 Mar 2007 20:36:06 +0000

There was a great image on the Simpsons last night. A delivery truck pulls up to the house. On the side, in large letters, is something like the following:

A.S.S.*

American Supply Service

*Not affiliated with the human ass

When I was about 9 years old, my SS teacher, who was a convert from another religious tradition and very strict, taught us a lesson on euphemisms, all about how we shouldn’t use them because when people say gosh they really mean God, or geez really means Jesus, or darn means damn, etc.

That lesson had a profound influence on me, and for years I wouldn’t utter so much as a gosh or a darn.

This practice did not, however, survive high school. Dammit.

By: J. Stapley

J. Stapley — Mon, 12 Mar 2007 20:24:16 +0000

I believe that there is a classic Bill Cosby (Bill Cosby Himself, perhaps) sketch that is related to that, Craig. Hilarious.

By: Craig S.

Craig S. — Mon, 12 Mar 2007 20:17:43 +0000

My wife just returned from the funeral of her Grandmother. During the funeral her Uncle Rick told the following anecdote: “I was the third of three rambunctious boys. We were always in trouble as boys that age often are. Until I was about 5, I understood my name to be different than my given name because whenever my Dad would call us he would yell, ‘Laron! Gary! Damnit!’”.

By: J. Stapley

J. Stapley — Mon, 12 Mar 2007 20:02:22 +0000

This post is delightful. In some ways it reminds me of Ardis's recent post on Brigham Young's linguistic proclivities. Thanks for this.