I love to curse...#$%@ A I do.

Now, some fun facts about my "little habit"

Yes, my crass ignorance is elevated a few spots because I'm not using my "big words".

Yes, I love to drop the S-bomb, it's clearly my favorite and I incorporate it into at least every other sentence that comes out of my mouth.

Yes, I also love to drop the C-bomb (that C word). Now I never direct it to members of the opposite sex and I never say with any sort of hurtful connotation behind it, but I throw it out there in reference to a lot of things, so let's call it C-lite or the British way about me.

Yes, most of the time something fly's out of my mouth, I don't realize it. In the way that animals have the preternatural survival instinct ingrained when they're born, I myself just let the #$*@ fly without a beat or conscious thought. It's like I was born to curse: 1) a lot and 2) often.

Yes, I don't have the poetic eloquence of say Samuel Jackson or say Joe Pesci when they start dropping the bombs. They have truly elevated it to a true art form. I'm getting there but I'm still a bush-leaguer.

And finally, and quite sadly, I tried to stop.

The weaning actually began when I started to write my blog. My humor, even to this very moment leans heavily on crude sexual humor, druggie jokes and just being a plain $#&% at times. It's always with jest and a *$@!# eating grin on my face but I'm trying new ways to be funny without having to drive down that one way street. My success rate is probably a toss up at this point. It's really %#$& hard man.

Here's where the conscious effort comes into play.

Every time I make a pledge to myself to not do something, I fail miserably. One year for lent, I swore off candy. That lasted 2 days because of those $@$% Girl Scout cookies. I fell from grace on one of those lemon cookies. I hate the $@#$ Girl Scouts. Then I tried to stop going to see movies. I told myself to stop for six months because I just wasn't enjoying the very thing I've enjoyed since I was five. Time off I felt was going to reinvigorate me. That lasted 3 weeks. The invigorated feeling is still missing but I felt empty when I wasn't attending the film de cinema. So basically I gained nothing. I still find some way to be a $#$% critic, which is the one thing I was trying to rid myself off...ho hum.

Then one day I said to M, "I need to stop with all this foul language" (I cleaned that up a bit, it came out a little bluer, but you get my point). Her reply, "there's no way". I replied "%$@ you, I'll do it, you watch". But I needed a sponsor. So I called my three best friends. They told me to "eat $#%", that's verbatim. Fine, I don't need a sponsor, but I need someone to detox with me. I turned to M.

M loves to watch that Gene Simmons "reality" show. They have marathons on Sunday afternoons and she watches it non-stop along with every other time the show is on. That show is so %#@# lame but I digress, I give up my foulness, she gives up Gene. The bet was in no way fair but I was determined to clean up my act so it was mutually agreed upon. The loser gets to lighten their bank account by plunking down for a nice steak dinner at Morton's. She also loves to watch Rachel Ray. I said she should give that up as well. She told me to $#% off. Fine, we'll leave it at Gene and Gene only.

The first 24 hours weren't bad. This was due to most of my day perusing over a script, so I wasn't talking much, just the occasional "eh" and "oh". Then I watched a couple episodes of Aqua Teen Hunger Force and fell asleep listening to that Mickey Avalon CD (Yes, I am really this lame).

The second day...well let me just say this, I should have been given some sort of time out because the Mets were on TV. I'm a huge Mets fan, dating back to the Strawberry and Gooden years. Living in Colorado we don't get a lot of Mets games out here. How much do I love them? If I could marry them I would, that's how much. So yeah, to make a long story short, I never made it past the 3 rd inning. It's complete BS. M still hasn't watched Gene and even stopped watching Rachel Ray. She's doing it just to rub the shame of failure in my eyes a little more.

So I failed again, but whatever, I'm happy with how I conduct verbiage. It's who I am. The deconstruction still continues with this blog, so it's not a complete failure. Maybe one day I'll just naturally fall out of the allure of foul language, but I highly $@!& doubt it.

Next week is Morton's, who want to join in, I'm buying....$@#!^&

Your Friend,

Paul Hughes