Since I'm getting so many new visitors from BE, I thought I'd post something new so the first thing people saw was not "holy shitballs." One (of the three, whoohoo!) comment on my blog explosion account asked that I bring the profanity down a bit.
To this person, I have to say thanks for commenting but there is no way in hell (see?) I'm going to be able to stop with the profanity. I watch my language in front of my grandma, professors, my young cousins, and at church. However, I don't censor myself on this blog and I never will. Pretty much everything you see (not everything, though, my brain is a scary place) comes out like it sounds in my head, curse words and all. Sorry if it offends, but I'm not going to stop doing it. All I can say is, if you don't like profanity, you probably don't want to read any of my entries from November 2nd to about the 5th.
When I was a freshman in college, I took a beginning Psych class. We were studying behavior modification and the prof told us we all had to pick something we wanted to change about ourselves and then actually try to change it, using positive or negative reinforcement.
I decided I was going to try to stop cursing as much because, if anything, I have become less profane than I used to be. When I went away to college, those words just flew out of my mouth. Why? I think it was because I had worked at a library for two years, often around children, and I had all these words bottled up inside of me that were just dying to get out. And so, freshman year, they did.
My experiment was simple. Instead of putting money in a jar for every curse word I said, I decided I would inflict pain upon myself. I put a rubber band around my wrist, and every time I cursed I would snap the rubber band against the inside of my wrist. And I couldn't NOT do it, because I'd stupidly told all of my friends about the experiment. Every time I cursed their eyes would light up with anticipation, waiting for me to snap the rubber band and flinch with pain. Assholes.
The experiment was supposed to last a week. After a day of torturing myself, I had to put the rubber band on the other wrist. Two days later, I had given up completely because both wrists were red and tender.
After the experiment, I accepted the fact that I will probably always have a dirty mouth.
Give up profanity?