I Gave Up Swearing for Lent (and it didn’t go too fucking well)

Last year I wrote a blog about giving up my favourite chord for Lent. This year, I thought I’d try to avoid swearing for six weeks. I think there can be great depth in strong and colourful language, but not when used gratuitously.

I’m increasingly conscious that my speech and my writing is always in danger of including unnecessary and inappropriate swearing. Whilst I don’t find myself mindlessly detailing every sentence with profanity, I could be “f’in and blinding” in front of your kids at any time; so be thankful that I try things like this!

Frankly, Lent didn’t go too well from my point of view. I found the problem wasn’t that I was continuing to swear in conversation, but more that when I’m working and something goes wrong, for example, I’ll say something under my breath; and your grandmother would wish that she hadn’t been there to hear it.

So, sadly, don’t expect to see me permanently substituting my profanity with carefully-considered colloquialisms any time soon. Culture, and language, have me by the honeycombs, and I’ll be rogered if I’m to change that in six weeks. A-fridging-men.