I am a swearer.
Love the fucking shit out of it.
I have been loving it, according to this old diary since I was nine:
‘Lilly poked Lewis in the eye. Bugger’
Lilly was two, Lewis a baby.
I was testing my words.
Bugger still is a favorite.
And might be as close as I get to nationalism…
When, as a teenager that Toyota ad came out,
I felt quietly vindicated
Vindicated in my right to swear.
The fight I fought, absent mindedly, despite
on one parentally desperate moment:
mouthfuls of soap
I wasn’t a rebel, just couldn’t see the fuss
Neither can Stephen Fucking Fry.
So you know bloody vindi-freaking-cated