Philosophy of the uneducated (and inebriated).

16 July, 2007 at 11:46 pm | Posted in General Stuff | 7 Comments

Swearing.

 I do it alot. In fact, I tend to swear like a fucking trooper. As most of you already know. I do (sometimes) try to moderate myself a bit when I am blogging, but most of the time, it just rolls of the tongue before the brain realises that I might offend someone.

 But there are worse than me around, let me tell you! (Hi Tony 😉 )

A f’rinstance. (As in “For Instance…”)

Last week, I was merrily driving to work, bopping along to the radio (I won tickets to another movie, and also to the winter wonderland thingy in Canberra, BTW- I think I’ve cracked the $1K mark in my prizes….) and was stopped at a set of lights.

“Clunk!”

WTF???

Some guy had just run up the ass of my car. I got out of my car, in my nice respectable public-service work clothes, including my long black jacket, looking (I think) probably a little bit intimidatory, especially as I am in the process of growing a full beard for “Oliver!”.

I walked to the back of my car, as the driver of the other car (a commodore, for those that give a shit) got out, and immediately started yelling at me. I don’t respond well to being yelled at, especially when I am (for once) in the right. So I ignored him while I looked at my car. Luckily, there was no damage, as this guy had hit my towbar.

 I kid you not, the day before, as I was leaving work, I considered taking it (the towbar) off (it’s one of those “easily” detachable models), and actually got down on my knees, and could not remove it because of the dust in the threads (it has a pin through the tongue, and an oversized plastic washer with a thread to hold the pin in place). So I left it there.

ANYWAY.

With this thought in mind (as in “I am so glad that I couldn’t remove this towbar yesterday… “, followed closely by “is there a God?”) I said to the guy “You are lucky that I had my towbar there.”

And he said (with an accent, to be fair- this particular accent is commonly accepted as one where the first fucking thing that these fucking people from this particular fucking region fucking learn on arriving to fucking Australia is that a fucking sentence is not fucking complete unless it con-fucking-tains the word “fuck” at least ten fucking times, fuck.) “What you mean, I fucking lucky? YOU fucking lucky!”

I couldn’t let it go. “Whaddaya mean, I’m lucky? YOU ran into ME!”

“Fuck you, fucking asshole. You fucking asshole fuck.”

 By this stage, we’re toe-to-toe, and I wasn’t feeling to confident; the guy looked fit, and I was wearing this heavy woolen over coat, a shirt and a t-shirt, and to be honest, I’m more of a wrestler than a boxer (drinking excessive amounts of beer and wrestling tend to go together, I think).

So I did what any self respecting person would do in my place…. “I’m an asshole, am I? Why?”

“I don’no fuck. You are asshole.”

“Sure, mate whatever you reckon” as I grab my trusty mobile phone from my belt (I’m gonna kill him with radiation…..) and ring the cops, whilst frantically looking at this guys bent-up number plate, trying desperately to remember it…

And he gets into his car, and with this final riposte- “(edited before posting, even though technically it contained no swear words, but related to something you do with a straw and another word for a rooster, and I can evidently perform this feat like a female dog- think about it, and email me your best guess- the first successful entry will receive a straw, a rooster, and (if they want) a dog…..)”

Once I got through to our local constabulary, I was told “unless he actually touched you or damaged your car, we can’t do a thing about it….”

Which, when I thought about it in a more “peaceful” frame of mind, made sense. In reality, the guy hadn’t (through sheer assed luck) actually commited a crime. If he had scratched my car by the tiniest amount, and driven off (which he did do- drive off, that is; he didn’t damage my car at all) then he would have, by law, left the scene of an accident without providing the relevant information. And I could have had criminal charges laid.

The second part (which is the philosophical part) of the post is the following.

I don’t know how many Canberrans or Yassites are going to read this, but they would understand. We have in this area a HUGE problem with kangaroos. There are literally TENS OF THOUSANDS of them around (within a hundred kilometre (60 Mile) radius of our national capital (which is, BTW, Canberra, (NOT SYDNEY!!!)).

And driving home tonight (after watching “evening” at the movies (thanks Mix 106.3)), I nearly hit a ‘roo. And he was a big bastard too, for an Eastern Grey. I know the Reds can top 6′, but this one would have been 5’ and a bit, standing up. My window was down, and I named him a fucking c*^t. Loudly.

So I pose this philosophical question- does the fact that I used that horrible expletive in the middle of the forest, where no-one else could hear it, make it a swear???

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