My friends and I have ridiculous conversations. I'd say they are downright absurd at times. The latest in our string of verbal adventures would have been Thursday night at Blue Line Lounge (aka Blue Line Club Car).
Cunt.
Often reserved for the most vile comeback, this four letter word carries a lot of weight. I don't think it should. And apparently neither do my friends. So we started abusing it for no good reason at all.
Dude Cunt: the trickster with nothing better to do than make you writhe
Work Cunt: the woman (or man) who will throw you under the bus without thinking twice
Friday Night Cunt: the woman at the club who wants your man (Confused? Me, too.)
Neighbor Cunt: upstairs neighbors who ignore requests to maintain respectful noise levels, i.e. cowboy boots at all hours, unruly large dog who barks a lot, leaving your alarm on so I can hear it (yes, its personal).
Other fresh ideas from the roundtable...
"You're kinda cunt-like"
"Its kinda cunty"
We are not necessarily funny or clever people but can you imagine overhearing this conversation? As a top-notch eavesdropper, I would've been intrigued.
Further reading: "Cunt: A Declaration of Independence" by Inga Muscio (yes I own this)
No comments:
Post a Comment