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“My name is JW10 and I haven’t said a swear word in eighteen months.”

Cue- a deafening round of applause at the latest Professionals In Swearing Help (PISH) meeting.

I gave up coarse language when I realised it’s a negative use of the vocal chords- My baritone atoms are now super-charged with protons. There is also no shock value in profanities anymore. Given, sometimes, an expletive does add emphasis to certain types of jokes; however, crudity is poor form, I think.

The first few weeks of abstinence were the hardest for me as you can imagine. Many a sentence I started and not finished when a rude word was on the tip of my tongue about to pollute the atmosphere. I considered carrying a bleeper about with me to use whenever a lashing of bad language might have been unleashed accidentally. This would be no good as my timing- I could never master the spin ten plates on ten sticks trick- is terrible. I would bleep the good words by mistake in an unintentional parody of Julius Caesar.
The evil that men say lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bleeps.

Another worry for the non-swearer is the substitute word. Drat and double drat can be used once in company invoking some mirth. Overuse could result in mockery. “Dearie me” would see my reputation in the pub disintegrate like a 1990’s England innings batting collapse. “Did you just say “Dearie f****** me?” ” would be thrown back at me by a hardened hard man drinker completely misquoting me. I’ll sue, so help me god, I’ll sue, for slander or libel or whatever the Fox News it is.

Success. Words that closely resemble the foul phrase can be used instead or a few syllables can be dropped from the offending item without much being lost in the message. If said quickly no one notices. That basta needs a good kick in the ar. The hard man will buy you a pint for that one.

It helps if you don’t have a bad temper. If you try to sail through life with all its storms and try to treat it like a teacup, there’s no need to swear. PISH tells us to face every day foibles with a sugary outlook.

The computer’s on the blink as windows has crashed again, though literally I suppose it has just frozen- its real windows that crash though you can understand the dramatic overtones of a crash. The boiler’s broke. Nothing unusual there. Like a potboiler Jackie Collins novel, the world is full of broken boilers. You see, there’s nothing worth getting worked up for. Ooops, dearie me, I’ve just remembered I’ve some wood to saw for decking. Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to ....(the saw slips on my fingers)...Arrggghh....you....