OK. In addition to not being the biggest fan of most country singers, I also don’t like being screamed at and have it called “music.” Because in my opinion, it’s not. It’s screaming. Over drums. And sometimes guitar.
Not that I completely hate – I’ve been known to scream sing along with “Crazy Bitch” when it’s played at a bar.
Which brings me to my next point. I curse. A lot. More than I should, I know, and not always in the best situations.
It’s not like Tourette’s or anything, but I’ll use a four-letter word or two when the moment feels right – which is sort of often.
And I could have worse habits, by the way, than not-too-excessive-but-more-than-necessary-cursing. It’s not like I bite my nails I’m on drugs or something.
According to Time magazine, cursing is helpful when you hurt yourself, which I tend to do a lot because I apparently have no depth perception when I walk and bump my hands and fingers and knees and toes (not shoulders, though) into things a lot. Thus resulting in the s-bomb. F-bomb is reserved for falls and paper cuts.
Speaking of the f-bomb, it’s a key part of a song I enjoy listening to when I’m angry.
Cee Lo Green’s “F*** You” sounds peppy and is not necessarily the type of angry song most people would pick. But I like him, and the music and, well, I don’t mind some cursing thrown into my playlist.
I’ll keep it clean(ish) since Mom and Dad and other grown-ups I don’t want to offend read this blog – though I did have to pass along a message to them from a teenager a few weeks ago when they wanted to know what was said and I had to tell them it “was hot as f***” so really, they’re not immune.
Like I said, though, could be worse.
On account of... 