Now Errol, said the teacher, you shouldn’t be using naughty words like that. Who taught you such language?
My father, said Errol.
Well, said the teacher, you shouldn’t use a word like that if you don’t know what it means.
I do know what it means, said Errol. It means the car won’t start.
Weave a Web 
F**king hell. Wait that’s two words!
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Good one!
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Thank you! I have to admit I pinched the plot and shortened it!
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If only the father had more money to buy a decent car with Errol wouldn’t be forced to learn such harsh and cruel language. You might make a socialist of me yet.
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He could use the same word possibly if he was given a Lamborghini!
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Better than waking up in a new Bugatti.
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Good one Bruce! I thought at one time my guitar was not just called a guitar…it was called a damn guitar…
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A damned guitar (in my opinion – as you now know me perhaps like few others) is a f**king guitar. Having said all that – I’m at a point of tossing in the towel (music-wise) and saying f”- it.
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Well… as far as music…I do it for me…for the peace I get out of it. Until I play with the guys and they can’t decide what to play.
You do still enjoy it right? It’s a gift/curse that we have! I feel drawn to it even when I don’t want to.
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Oh, I have a story to rival this one with my son and his grandfather as the main characters! This made me smile, remembering it!
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Is it tell-able?
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Sure – do you want it here or by email?
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Just post it in the comments and others will see it! We’re not overly prudish and of readers are they can switch off!
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My son was not quite five when he started school (kindergarten). He took the bus after school all by himself to the YMCA. We were called by the YMCA Director after a week or two because she said he was making inappropriate gestures at the other children. We met her with my son and she told us he’d been giving the other children the middle finger. When we asked him about this, he said yes, he did, and held up his hand with his middle finger up but bent at the first joint.
I asked him what that meant and he said his grandfather did it (my Dad had terrible arthritis and couldn’t fully extend his finger) and had told my son when he did it, “This means I won’t be going to heaven.” The director sputtered and said we needed to tell our son what it really meant and not to do it. We laughed all the way home.
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That’s a marvellous story Noelle. I shall use it as my story today if that’s alright!
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No problem!
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Done! Thank you!
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Motherf&cker can be written as one word. Neat.
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Apparently middlefixes (prefix, middlefix, and suffix) were all quite common in early English – but these days the only surviving middlefixes are swear words – absobloodylutely.
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Which finger can I put here which is the most detested by gramatical standards?
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Now I’m getting all middled.
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Oldie but a goodie.
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Yes – an oldie – most of my stories I daresay have been said before – but it’s impossible – as you would know from your blog – to be totally original. I’d not hear this story before!
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Eh, I meant it was an old joke. No criticisms here, Bruce. Your record is better than mine for posting.
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Yes – I knew you meant it was an old joke but I hadn’t heard it before. No offense intended. Anyway – having all those wonderful boys is a far greater thing than creating a blog! I’m in reverence!
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He used his context clues. What a smart kid!
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Cleverness springs from genes – as undoubtedly you’ve discovered.
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