Fuck this post

Today, after witnessing a screaming match between a cabbie and a chubby punk rock (rawk?) princess, I realized the word ‘fuck’ doesn’t enjoy the same insulting impact it once did.

Well, from what I could gather, apparently chubby either walked in front of the cab, or cabbie drove into the chubby. Regardless, details are irrelevant. What concerns our journey of etymology is, upon dismissing the chubby with a (sweet) peel out, the cabbie screamed,

“…and FUCK ya’self!”

To understand the way he said this, picture the final punch in Rocky II, when Rocky puts Apollo down for the count, but translate that blow into language. Akin to a nerd screaming ‘Checkmate!’ during a chess game or a circle jerk, except, in this case, the implications were for solitary sexual satisfaction (stemmed in sarcasm).

After the cloud of rubber cleared, and I went walking on my merry way, I realized, “Man, that cabbie could’ve made that chubby girl feel way worse about herself!”

Then, later at work, a coworker recalled to me an instance of getting “fucked over.”

Being the stickler of syntax that I am, I stood, coffee in head, mouth agape, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

Uneasily, the coworker repeated, “So…I got fucked over,” as if imploring a magic trick with a second, more frantic ‘abracadabra’.

Still I stared, then, after the upwards of 30 seconds of awkward silence, I finally asked, “Fucked over what?”

“What do you mean fucked over what? I was fucked over, man. As in fucked over.”

“Dude,” I began, wishing I could use copyeditor marks in conversation, “You can’t end a sentence with a preposition. You’re gonna have to figure out what you were fucked over. Was it a barrel? Was it another dude’s dick? Perhaps over a three-day weekend? Come on, give me something.”

This is probably why people at work don’t talk to me.

Anyhoo, this brings me to my final point. Curse words are like currency, in that they’re subject to the same pressures of inflation. Think about it. What once cost a nickel now costs a small child. Since my dad was my age, prices have soared. Along the same vein, what my dad once could have expressed with a simple ‘fuck you’, now requires a ‘fuck you in your dad’s poop hole by a two-cent whore who’s a guy that used to be girl but now is a guy again and he’s gonna fuck your dad’s poop hole till your dad is singing the Portuguese national anthem and it’s the year of the dog in the Chinese calendar year, ect., fucking ect.” The price of profanity has risen, dramatically. So I guess I’ll leave you to consider semantics to add to your antics, so the next time you have to insult some chubby, punky princess you won’t sound like a coin-begging bum.