The joy of a big swear

Many many moons ago when fax machines still roamed the comms room and we all spent days waiting for the contact sheet to be delivered to the agency to crowd round a lightbox before choosing the best image, I was given the nickname Cartman who apparently is the big sweary one in Southpark. It was not a compliment.

I swore a lot. I swear a lot. In fact a few of my friends’ children now call me Swearer or in special cases Aunty Swearer as I may have said all of the bad words in front of them, educating them in all things bad and wrong.

There’s been times when I’ve (of course) been very very professional and not one profanity has escaped my lips during days, weeks or even months of meetings.

But who doesn’t whisper FFS under the breath when you work in comms. Surely swearing is as standard as plate spinning.

I bloody love swearing. I love the power it give words (in the right circumstances) and I love the fact that sometimes it still makes me giggle like a 14 year old when someone does a big swear - especially if it’s me mum.

So this blog comes with a big swear warning. Working with me, training with me sometimes means I may do a big swear. Not the really bad words obviously but sometimes in business when you are fecked off with clients, with suppliers, with yourself only a right big swear will do it justice.

And sometimes we all need the joy of a big swear.