I just don't have enough blogs :)

Alternate title: trollolololol

In the nicest way possible.

Actually, I'm posting because I'm bored. And apparently Verison is being stupid and not letting people use their phones as they are supposed to be used.
Picture by Kris Wilson

A while ago, Mr Professor Steve Leeper man talked about swearing, and while we shouldn't swear bunches upon bunches, we should swear if it is called for.

And then we had the film, Fridge. And we were divided between who found it offensive because of the language and who wasn't. And I was one of the people to raise my hand when he called for the unoffended people. It kind of felt like a slap on the hand while the other hand was in the cookie jar, unashamedly. But a slap you could see coming out of the very corner of your eye.... If you were paying attention, of course. I decided not to talk about it or blog about it when everyone else did, because it felt to mainstream to do it then. (hipster joke anyone?)

I know sometimes for me, it is easy to want to cuss. Hollywood made it seem vaugely glamorous, and my parents didn't help by flat out forbiding it and any usage of it no matter what. And I, being the willful, Human child thing that I am, said It's my choice. Is it wrong? People tell me so. Why? I don't know, and no one can give me a better answer than it's wrong. Which doesn't quite seem like a good enough reason. It's like evolutionists saying how old are these rocks? well we can see that they are this old because of the skeletons in them. and how old are they skeletons? well, we can tell how old they are because of the rocks they are in. And it just goes round and round and round.

I want to not do something, or not believe something, because I believe it is wrong. Not because someone told me it was bad, and then took away my beloved books as a consequence. But because I have a conviction deep inside, that tells me and makes me believe that I should not do that. Or that I should.

So in a way, I am sad that I let people down (because I hate letting people down.) But am I ashamed that I wasn't offended? Not really. Maybe in 20 years, I'll be wiser, or I'll have kids who I don't want cussing, and then I'll say, "Damn. Why wasn't I offended?" (you see what I did thar?)

Also, your name must be Cheerio's, because you're good for my heart. (pickup lines ftw)