Uh-oh, Phil has a potty mouth!

Hallelujah! Tonight was my last official night of lecture for the semester. (Now only one week, two projects, and one final exam to go.) For tonight's lecture, my teacher decided to play us some tapes of a recorded lecture from a psychologist who works with parents whose children are born with or acquire disabilities. The tapes (no, they were not even CDs) actually proved to be worthwhile listening. I was very impressed, which was both a nice surprise and also kind of disappointing, given that I was all set to take a nap and everything. I would totally go see this guy if he ever does a workshop near me.

One thing he said, though, got me thinking. It was something like "If you find that a parent yells out you and you get mad and just yell 'Fu--fff'..." And I accidentally said "fuck!" for the man, because let's be honest. The whole time he was speaking, I know, you know (and I know you know) that he wanted to say it.

Through the rest of his lecture, the only thing that kept me awake was that, in my head, I was imagining that he was using the words fuck, shit, and bitch at least 30% of the time. It's a proven fact that the more swear words we hear in one sitting, the more likely it is we'll remember exactly what was said, word for fucking word. Fingers crossed that some high school kid reads that last sentence and quotes me on it.