Or they say [swearing is] not necessary, as if that should stop one doing it.  It’s not necessary to have coloured socks, it’s not necessary for this cushion to be there but is anyone going to write in and say, “I was shocked to see that cushion there it really wasn’t necessary”?  No, things not being necessary is what makes life interesting, the little extras in life.

Stephen Fry

After 46 days of a supposedly swear-free Lent it’d be great to write that “cursing is a cancer that is destroying our once great language.  Over the past seven weeks I have regularly witnessed the feeble-minded scrabble for the crutch that is swearing in an attempt to support their woefully limited lexis.”

That, however, is not the case.   I tried hard to rescue something meaningful from the wreckage but when I asked the person who challenged me to quit swearing to explain her reasoning she said, “I just thought it’d be funny.”

These past few weeks have reinforced my belief that swearing is rarely offensive and the level of offence, if any, very much depends on the situation.

It all began with a list of banned words that, while comprehensive, was overly restrictive and did not take into account the varying levels of offensiveness.  I guess what I’m trying to say is that there’s a difference between bloody buggery and fucking cunt (even now that Lent is over I’m thinking that I should probably asterisk that out).

The impact is also altered not only by the words used but by the context in which they were used.  The best way to illustrate this would be to look back over my experiences.

Throughout Lent I “swore” 23 times.  The amount I swore each week decreased over time, apart from a blip in week four that I like to call Lil John.  The numbers look something like this; 10 (week one), 6 (week 2), 2 (week 3), 4 (Lil John), 1 (week 5), 0 (week 6), 0 ( week 7).  I could turn this into a graph if I wanted to, I don’t.

If we remove swear words I muttered under my breath at inanimate objects (usually in the privacy of my own room) and also strike out any curses that were caused by me singing along to songs we arrive at the number seven, let’s take a look.

“Hell knows.” This one was used in conversation in response to a question.  People offended: 0.

“She was alright apart from when she used to grab my cock in public.”  This was true but how many patrons of Wetherspoons were offended? 0.

“At least I’ll be warm in Hell.” Once again no one in Wetherspoons batted an eyelid.

“I do in a half-arsed kind of way.”  It’s true, that is how I promote this blog.  Anyone who can think of a suitable replacement let me know.  People offended: 0.

“‘Fury over Cherwell editors’ infant buggery party’”  Was anyone offended by me reading extracts from The Guardian aloud?  No.

“Originally it was a story to warn girls against putting it about, she gets in bed with the wolf and is eaten.  That’s why she wears red because she’s a ho.”  Was anyone offended by learning?  No.

“aww, why should you care what he thinks anyway? (and why is he fucking people in your loo?)”  Yes, someone was offended but not by my swearing.  She was offended because a guy was having sex with some random girl in her bathroom.

There are few positives to be drawn from this exercise but I will try.  I thought more about what I say, I noticed how much I use the word hell as a stopgap word and with £1 for each curse I have raised £23 for charity.  Using my somewhat rusty GCSE Mathematics skills I calculate that this pushes Gingell’s 10k race sponsorship for Lupus UK up to £216.52.

Gingell & Piggles

Scribbleboy: Something very sick and wrong about having weekly photoshoots with a piggy bank (this week Piggles got on the bed and modelled a red ribbon)

blankbadge: @Scribbleboy I get the feeling that you don’t find something being sick and wrong to be a bad thing.

Scribbleboy: @blankbadge Not sure I can respond without incriminating myself (realise I have missed some close ups of dainty feet shall take more pics)

Twitter.com

While Mr Piggles descended into alcoholism this website stood by and watched took pictures.  I thought that my lack of swearing and the subsequent dip in Piggles’ funds was the cause of his heavy drinking but Sarah had a different opinion.

Mr. Piggles has extremely girly eyes maybe he’s turned to drink because you insist he’s a he when in fact he may be a she?

This was valid point, Mr Piggles could in fact be Mrs Piggles (Miss? Ms?)  It had never come up in conversation but then again Piggles isn’t much of a talker.

And so the investigative journalism began.  Baines has always been close to Piggles so I asked her first.  Her answer was delightfully gender neutral (by which I mean useless), she said, “I’ve never really thought about it.”

Then I consulted Google, he knows everything.  Alas, “determining the sex of my piggy bank” yielded no meaningful results.

My only option was to conduct a thorough medical examination, something I had previously hoped to avoid in an effort to spare Piggles’ blushes (the following pictures, while tasteful, are probably NSFW).

This was our first tip off that he may be a she, his delightfully girlish eyes.  The first time I met Piggles I wrote that “he stared up at Scribble with the most beautiful pair of eyes Scribs had ever seen” so really I should have noticed this sooner.  I share a room with him (her?) and not once have I seen my farmyard friend resort to eyelash curlers or mascara, these naturally curly eyelashes are little help on our quest for truth.

Verdict: Inconclusive.

If we look again we notice that Piggles is modelling a red bow in his hair, strange behaviour, especially for someone without hair but hardly conclusive proof that he is a girl (especially as the ribbon he used has been stolen from my collection).  This ribbon is clearly an indication that Piggles is trying to tell us something, but what?

Verdict: Attention seeking.

Pink, you have to admit, is a bit of a girly colour.  Gingell is of the opinion that having a pink booty does not conclusively prove your sex.  I would have to question the opinion of someone who has made precisely zero posts on piggy banks.

Verdict: The academic community will decide.

People never pay me normal compliments, a perfect example of this would be “You have nice feet… if you were a girl you could wear pretty shoes.”  This makes it hard for me to draw anything from Piggles’ dainty cloven hooves.  The tattoos however are far more promising.  One of them, Piggles has never shown me his tats before, reads “Sëmk design.”  Sëmk have a website here and as far as I can tell they specialise in breeding a variety of animals which they then ship around the world.  I will be contacting them later in the week to see if they can help sex the pig.

Verdict: Promising.

In other news, I haven’t sworn once this week (sorry Lupus UK).

[This was meant to be posted on Sunday but I was busy watching Yes We Can! The Lost Art of Oratory, a documentary that Clara recommended.  It pulls no punches but it's an interesting programme that uses Obama as a springboard to take a look back at great speech makers throughout history.

Soundbites of Obama's inaugural address are still moving three months on and this documentary is further encouragement for me to listen to Obama's weekly address (instead of just bookmarking it), get back into The West Wing (and watch it chronologically instead of just watching random episodes on More4 when I have trouble sleeping) and read books (instead of just using them to fill shelves).

My favourite scene is when Yentob uses a megaphone to broadcast the words of Cromwell to the Houses of Parliament and Brian Haw is on hand to provide pointers.  It is crazy to think that this man has been outside the Houses of Parliament for over seven years, outstaying Blair, to protest a war that the majority of the country was already against before we had even gone into Iraq.]

]]> http://www.scribbleboy.co.uk/2009/04/05/sexing-the-pig/feed/ 0 http://www.scribbleboy.co.uk/2009/03/29/the-return-of-mr-piggles/ http://www.scribbleboy.co.uk/2009/03/29/the-return-of-mr-piggles/#comments Sun, 29 Mar 2009 23:00:03 +0000 Scribbleboy http://www.scribbleboy.co.uk/?p=1682

Sometimes I try and imagine what the audience of this blog want, sometimes we have imaginary conversations. The other day we had one in which you complained about me replacing Mr Piggles with black people and I called you racist, sorry.

In reality Piggles has been in no fit state to grace the pages of this blog.  Since the first week, in which he scored £10, the amount I’ve been spending on swearing has plummeted.  No longer able to fund his illicit truffle habit my pork based friend has turned to value gin.  It is a tragic shame.

Week Five Total: £1 (I described someone’s modelling photos as “kick a**.” I’m not mentioning her name again, she’ll only grow vain).
Grand Total: £23

Average Cost of Lent per Day: 70p

If you don’t know who Lil John is then this picture will tell you everything you need to know.

Ishowed the photo to Gingell and she said, “He looks like an idiot.” (think the pimp cup may have given him away). This is correct, an idiot whose songs cost me £4 when I sang along in week four of a supposedly swear-free Lent.

First Offence

When you get into details you get into trouble, so I’m going to be nice and vague.  A friend of mine has recently broken up with his partner and I was trying to think of a song to play the next time she called (she seems to do that a lot).  When I was in the kitchen making tea, some lyrics popped into my head, then I started humming them and then (£2) I started singing “Move b***h, get out the way.  Get out the way b***h, get out the way.”  I’m nothing if not wholesome and witty.

Second Offence

I was in a club (it happens) and the DJ played one of Lil John’s songs, I sang the word b***s twice.  If this word ever was offensive (doubtful) it’s surely negated by a hundred other people singing along with me.  Nevertheless, in a challenge governed by an overly restrictive list that seems to grow more pointless by the day,  it still counts.

Week Four Total: £4
Grand Total: £22

Average Cost of Lent per Day: 85p

Last week I blamed Jay-Z and Beyoncé, this week I’m blaming Lil John.  It’s little wonder that Scribbleboy.co.uk got picked up by Global Grind (“The World According to Hip-Hop”).  The closest this blog ever came to urban was when I suggested you should buy Jean Grae’s album, This Week, somehow I doubt any of you listened.

Back when we were all cool with each other

[This image is very much a work in progress.  Am waiting for Photoshop CS3 to show up and then I'll tidy these cutouts and maybe even add a little background.]

Ifell out with Beyoncé Knowles three weeks ago when it turned out that her song Check on It contained one of the words I’d banned myself from using during Lent and I was forced to pay Mr Piggles (aka the swear tin) £1.  It is shocking that a song with lyrics such as “I can tell you wanna taste it, but I’m gone make you chase it” could be anything other than wholesome.

This Friday, after a swear free week, I fell out with her husband Jay-Z.  I was back in the LRV (a student bar for anyone who hasn’t been subjected to the Staffs Uni experience) having a few drinks with Frosty and Damian, doing a little dance and being asked by Chinese students if I was half-caste (the answer is no and the phrase is mixed race).

The LRV seems to draw a more attractive crowd of people these days but not a crowd I know.  The floor is less sticky, not as many people smoke and you can get a drink in under 30 minutes.  Thoroughly disappointing, not like in the good old days.

Fatman Scoop led the crowd in a verse of;

You got a $100 dollar bill, put your hands up.
You got a $50 dollar bill, put your hands up.
You got a $20 dollar bill, put your hands up.
You got a $10 dollar bill, put your hands up.

and everyone put their hands up, although I doubt they had a dollar bill between them.  When it got to;

Who f***in’ or not?
Who f***in’ or not?
Who f***in’ or not?

he almost caught me out but I was sober enough to know that singing along to that verse would cost me more dollar bills than I could afford.

Navigating that lyrical minefield I thought I’d be safe but it was not to be.  Jay-Z decided to show up on his wife’s Crazy in Love. Now, if he had better diction and I didn’t drink it might have been okay.  Unfortunately when he was rapping about “young hova” I was singing about “young h*s” (still looks strange censoring that).

It’s weird Jay-Z comparing himself to Jehovah.  I can’t remember God putting out a platinum album and without consulting Wikipedia I can’t name any of his tracks.

The next day I used the word h***.

Week Three Total: £2
Grand Total: £18

Average Cost of Lent per Day: 95p

If you’re still confused, you can read Gingell’s explanation.  Then you should give her some money.

It’s been twelve days since my non-kosher buddy, Mr Piggles, wiggled his way into my house and into my heart.  Let’s assess the damage.

For those still confused by the format; for every forbidden word I use during Lent, I put one pound in Mr Piggles and on 11th April I put the sum total towards sponsoring Gingell in her 10k race for Lupus UK.

Monday 2nd March

Subtotal: £0

Tuesday 3rd March

17:45 – “‘Fury over Cherwell editors’ infant b*****y party’”  I was reading snippets of various comments on this news story to Baines and suggesting she do something similar (that is a satirical newspaper that goes heavy on Nazis, Klansmen and pornography).

Subtotal: £1

Wednesday 4th March

13:20 – “Originally it was a story to warn girls against putting it about, she gets in bed with the wolf and is eaten.  That’s why she wears red because she’s a h*.” I was explaining the origins of Little Red Riding Hood to Gingell.  Never seen the word h* censored before, it looks ridiculous.

Subtotal: £1

Thursday 5th March

17:00 – “H*** yeah.” The Wii Fit asked me if I’d been exercising regularly, it seemed a suitably sarcastic response.

19:35 – “Where the h***?” Trying to locate my friends in the audience of a play.

Subtotal: £2

Friday 6th March

19:00 – “How the h***?” I try to comprehend why my new hula hooping technique is not being recognised by the Wii Fit.  Baines’ record will remain unbroken until tomorrow when Gingell will smash it to pieces.

Subtotal: £1

Saturday 7th March

Subtotal: £0

Sunday 8th March

2:22 – “aww, why should you care what he thinks anyway? (and why is he f***ing people in your loo?)”  It was a valid question, next time I shall try and use more delicate phrasing when instant messaging.

Subtotal: £1

Week Two Total: £6
Grand Total: £16

The first full week of Lent and I’ve sworn less in it than I did in the five day wannabe week.  I’m definitely getting better, the h*** word is still present but is being used less and there is less cursing at inanimate objects.  While last week’s most unusual cause of cursing was Beyoncé Knowles, this week joint first place is held by The Guardian and the Wii Fit.

Average Cost of Lent per Day: £1.33

The sun shone brightly in the sky but no matter how brightly it shone in Stoke it was still cold.  The broken glass beneath Scribble’s feet cracked like ice as he made his way along the alleyway and the smell of disappointment hung in the air.  It was either disappointment or a blocked drain, one of the two thought Scribs.

Scribble was jumped from this mid afternoon reverie by the sound of a high pitched voice emanating from somewhere near his ankle.  “Spare some change governor?” said the pig as he stared up at Scribble with the most beautiful pair of eyes Scribs had ever seen.

It was at the moment that Scribble knew that they would be together forever (or at least until the end of Lent when Scribble would have no further use for a piggy bank).  For the past few months Mr Piggles, as the pig turned out to be called, had been turning tricks for money in downtown Shelton (he once let a bearded Stokie who couldn’t afford a bacon sandwich lick him for a quid).  Scribs took Piggles away from all of that and now, everytime he swears, he will give the pig a pound.  No licking involved.

Here is a list of all the times I have sworn this week and been forced to surrender a pound to Mr Piggles;

Wednesday 25th February

00:42 – “What the h***?”  Please don’t send me poorly structured paragraphs which lack punctuation or purpose when I’m trying to quit swearing.  Poor writing equals poor thinking, sort it out.

15:00 – “H*** knows.” In conversation with Gingell and Baines.

19:20 – “H***.” Standing in the shower with an aching head and a pessimistic outlook I used this word a few seconds before the cold water hit my back.

Subtotal: £3

Thursday 26th February

3:41 – “F***ing stunning.” I muttered under my breath while reviewing the day’s post.

4:20 – “H***.” Vector graphs are not my friend as I prepare for Friday’s post.

14:19 – “Stop hanging round with the clowns and the w***stas, good girls gotta get down with the gangsters.”  Suffice to say I am very much ashamed, if you know which song this is from please keep quiet.

14:38 – “Where the h***?”  For a second I was lost and could not locate the Nationwide branch.

22:54 – “She was alright apart from when she used to grab my c*** in public.”  This was factually accurate, only problem is I should have used the word penis.

21:32 – “At least I’ll be warm in H***.” After an indepth conversation where I discussed how even Thomas doubted and how I wouldn’t want to worship a God who misled us to test our faith I ended with this statement.  In my head it was funny, in reality it cost a pound.

Subtotal: £7

Friday 27th February

13:44 – “I do in a half-a**ed kind of way.”  When told I should promote my blog on Facebook.

Subtotal: Oh, come on you can figure that one out.

Saturday 28th February

Subtotal: £0 (oh yeah).

Sunday 1st March

Subtotal: £0

Week One’s Grand Total: £10

Not the best start to Lent but not too bad, once I realised I was using the word h*** as a stopgap in my sentences it became a lot easier.  A big thanks to Baines for lending me Mr Piggles, I will make sure he is safely returned to you in April, and thanks for letting me use your camera (if you were thinking the pictures look less sucky than usual it’s because the technology is better and definitely not because I became anymore skillful).  Have a look here to see how Baines is doing going Facebook free.

Thanks to the good people at Totem Films for taking an interest in the challenge, to the extent that they printed my list of banned words and stuck it to their office wall.  I’m slightly less grateful for them trying to provoke me to swear, no matter how many times they tell me they’re trying to raise money for charity.  If you want to help Gingell raise more money you could just go here.

List Amendments (for the benefit of the Totem Films wall)

It has been brought to my attention that some offensive words and phrases are missing from what I thought was a comprehensive list.

Come/ Cum - Any word or phrase for semen, other than semen, ejaculate or special sauce (sorry but it’s too funny) is now banned.  This rules out use of the phrase “you are a cum stain on the sheet of human existence” until April, which is disappointing.

Dyke – Just so the lesbians don’t feel excluded.

There are words – In the Bartlet administration (yes, it’s a West Wing reference, deal with it) they weren’t allowed to say the word recession so they used the word bagel instead.

Last year I did something similar with swear words and the word b***y (Peter Rabbit and Bugs B***y, I can’t write it but I think you can guess it.  They are small fluffy creatures that enjoy sex and not being eaten, although that is probably true for most animals, apart from the fluffy bit).  I have banned the b***y word from Lent and have been good at not finding a replacement word.

Unfortunately I have found a replacement phrase. “There are words”, “There are words for people like you”, “There are words which I won’t be using until April” and all variants are now banned. So if you say something that is likely to provoke me and I respond by telling you that I love you, or you have good hair or how blue the sky is today it is only to stop myself from using this phrase.  In extreme circumstances I may just sit in silence and glower at you.

Lent is 46 days long to represent the 40 days that Jesus spent in the wilderness being tempted by Satan. This makes absolutely no sense until you realise that Sundays don’t count because each of them “represents a ‘mini-Easter’, a celebration of Jesus’ victory over sin and death.” (Thanks Wiki). The question now for anyone taking part is what to do with these Sundays.  Baines is considering whether she should Facebook on the Sabbath here.

Wikipedia tells me that “When observing fasting or abstinence during Lent, regard must be paid to the fact that Sundays are Feast Days, so the fast or abstinence may be broken.” and that “In the past if you had given up slaughtering the innocents for Lent no one would pass judgement if you carved up a couple of choirboys after the Sunday service.” (There is a slight possibility I made one of these quotes up).

I have decided that swearing on Sundays would feel like cheating and falling back into my bad habits in time for Monday would only cost me money, so each Sunday I will be compiling a comprehensive list of the dates, times and context of all the bad words I have used in the previous week.  I will also be keeping a tally of the amount being donated to charity and how much swearing is costing me a day.

All proceeds will be added to Gingell’s sponsorship fund, she is running the Asics British 10k race to raise money for Lupus UK.  I think you should donate too.

Time to wrap this up, here’s a video featuring a grab bag of celebrities from the Channel 4 stable sharing their favourite swear words (WARNING: At least half my audience are going to find this offensive, if repetition of the word c**t doesn’t fill your heart with joy maybe watch this instead.  I like them both).

Feel free to share your (swearing related) stories, opinions and clips.  Also try and guess how many times I’ve sworn so far this week and then check back tomorrow to find out if you’re right.

[For the more adventurous you can try predict what the final total of the swear tin will be when Lent ends (11th April), the correct answer might even win you a prize if I have any money left in April.]

Normally I don’t believe in censoring swear words.  If you haven’t got the guts to write f— then you probably shouldn’t be using it.  It’s not as if any of your readers are going to be sat there thinking, “Four letters beginning with an F.  Face?  Fact?  Fame?  What can it be?”  This post, however, is about quitting swearing for Lent and so all swear words are appropriately censored.  I was going to use asterisks but it seemed a little bit too tabloid so I’ve gone for dashes, just imagine you’re reading a Victorian novel.

There’s No Such Word as Can’t

In 2005 I gave up alcohol for Lent. This was easy for me but harder for my housemate.  Everytime he went out drinking and was asked where I was he had to say, “He’s at home watching Desperate Housewives.”

In 2006 I gave up all caffeinated drinks.  This was hard.  For the first three days I suffered headaches and for the first two weeks I had to take an a nap at 3pm everyday.  By week three I wasn’t experiencing any physical withdrawal symptoms but would find myself absent mindedly clicking on the kettle in the morning and whenever I got writer’s block.  Luckily, I had  pre-empted this and given away all my tea.

In 2007 I ran out of vices to give up.

This year Charity (someone I have only sworn around on three occasions in the same number of years) has suggested I give up swearing.  So for the next forty days and forty nights I shall be refraining from swearing at all animals, vegetables and minerals.  I will not be writing swear words nor will I be singing or quoting anything that contains cusses.

If I slip up, and it’s more than likely I will, I will be putting £1 into my swear tin which at the end of Lent will be donated to a worthy charity chosen by readers.  All slip ups will be fully documented on this very blog.

Just to make clear what constitutes swearing I’ve made a list.

A–/ A— (buttocks) – The four lettered one is considered regional dialect and is perfectly acceptable at the BBC.  I am not at the BBC, both words are banned.

B—— (illegitimate child) -I will be allowing myself to use this to refer to people who were born out of wedlock.  Also the word bastardised is a fantastic word for any substandard product and will remain in use.

B—- (female dog) – Actually offensive.

Bloody – Not offensive, still banned.

B——- (male genitalia) – For the following forty days I will be referring to genitalia using the kind of words you get in Biology textbooks.  Anything that is a lie or is slipshod will be described as such.

Bugger – Quaint and very, very English but pretty nasty when you think about it.  Banned.

Bull—- (I receive this a lot).

Bunny – When I lived with Charity and wanted to quote something that contained swearing I would replace all the offensive words with the word bunny.  This is lazy and ridiculous.  Plus banning it makes the challenge harder and, no, I’m not allowed to come up with a bunny substitute.

C— (male genitalia) – It’s all too easy to use this word to refer to the incompetent people whose problems you have to fix.  Other words in a similar vein include dick, knob and prick.  All are banned, as are balls.

C— (defecation) - This word isn’t even offensive but I’m scrapping it too.  Some great replacements include; crud, trash, tripe, garbage, dross and dregs.

C— (female genitalia) – This is an old Norse word that in theory is less offensive than the word vagina (a Latin word that means a sheath for a sword).  Plus it was reclaimed by Eve Ensler in The Vagina Monologues.  Nonetheless, it’s probably the most offensive swear word out there.  (Also G—, P—-, P—-clot, T—).

Damn – Not even offensive but one of those words you reach for instead of thinking.  Gosh darn, cotton sarn it and dagnammit are all very amusing substitutes.

Hell – Probably only Ned Flanders still considers this as a swear word but it’s also forbidden.  I tend to use it to emphasise an otherwise mundane statement eg. “Hell no” (no) and “Hell do I know” (I don’t know).

F— – Most commonly used by me in the phrase “F— that s—” (no).  A great and forceful response to questions such as “Are you coming to the roller disco?” and “Would you like decaf?” Other great phrases include f— buddy (friend with benefits) and mindf— (it screwed with my head).

Faggotry – Someone I know (who shall remain nameless) refers to things that are broken or dysfunctional as gay.  This takes me back to primary school and seems pretty offensive, I didn’t want the phrase “this is so gay” to catch on in my head and so me and my brain came up with a compromise, “what is this faggotry?”  which is still really offensive.  Hopefully banned for life.

God – All blasphemy is banned.  Stacey had cured me of this but recently I’ve noticed it creeping back in phrases such as “God forsaken hell hole” and “Dear Lord, for all that is good and holy.”

N—– (racial slur) – Just because Wu-Tang says it doesn’t mean you should too.

P— (urinate) – I will be using the words urinate, pee and piddle.  I will be using the words drunk, inebriated and gazeboed.  I will use the phrase “It is raining heavily.”

Retard - Now only to be used in the “my progress was slowed” kind of way eg. The job hunt was retarded by my not getting out of bed.  (Also F—tard, Techtard).

S— (defecation) – Works so well in the phrase “No s— (Sherlock).”  Banned.

Slut – Useful when discussing celebrity news (also Ho, Skank, Whore).  The phrase “community sperm bank” stays.

W— (masturbation) – The Americans came up with a great word wanksta (wannabe gangsta) this too is banned because I use it as a term of abuse.

All plurals, variations and combinations of these words are also banned.  If you can think any other words that should be exorcised from my lexis then post a comment and let me know, if you’re really creative I might even buy you a drink (if you live in another country this could be difficult).