Last weekend I went, on Saturday evening, to see a comedian, and then to a poetry event on Sunday (yesterday). I heard the word ‘fuc*’ about 870 times; if a sentence didn’t include the word ‘*uck*, it would have ‘*anker’ or ‘w*nk’. And I thought :this is becoming boring. It’s the 2018 equivalent of songs that rhyme ‘mo*n’ and ‘J*ne’; it’s past its sell-by date. Whilst reserving the right, when I am at home alone, to swear extravagantly and in a manner disproportionate to the cause (eg “Why won’t the lid come off this fuck*ng jar? You c*nty cu*t- if you don’t come off, I’m going to throw you against the fuckin* wall. You’ll ******g come off then, you fu**ing *unt.”), I have decided that I will, in future, write without using strong language. However, before I do that, I want to have a last hurrah.
This is called Limerick Using the Word Fuck (apologies to Edward Fuckin’ Lear)
There was an old fucker from Folkestone
Who said fuck every time his mouth opened
“Fuck off!” “Fuck about”
“Fuck all”, he’d fuckin’ shout
Until fuck was the only word spoken