My Big Fat Fucking Mouth

It has recently been brought to my attention, by people I both love and respect no less, that my decidedly salty choice of language on this sight and others is somehow beneath my abilities as a writer. These aren't the first people to bring this issue up. My mother has been harping me about it for longer then I can remember. My response to this constructive criticism? A kind and respectful, Butt the fuck out! Followed by a courteous, mind your own motherfucking business!

I don't use the language that I use to be 'cool' or to get attention. I use the language I use because I love words: Big words, small words, 'good' words, 'bad' words- I like them all, so I use them all. The result is a strange hodgepodge of Gore Vidalian high grammar and blaxploitation grade gutter-slang. This has kind of become the signature of my writing style but it's actually the way I fucking talk and I've always strived to give my writing a down to earth, conversational feel. Call me an egomaniac but I find it to be rather charming. Apparently, once again, I'm in the minority.

I haven't exactly made a secret of the fact that I'm a struggling writer. I've been at this blogging thing for over three years now and I've only managed to publish a single fucking piece. Even worse, I still get less traffic on this site than a whorehouse in a leper colony (RIM-SHOT!). I now feel compelled to ask- Is it really the fucking language thing? Really!? Most of the sites I submit to bill themselves as being libertarian and/or anarchist in nature. What the fuck kind of anarchist/libertarian gets their goddamn panties in a bunch over a few little four letter words? Sometimes I fear that libertarians in particular have lost sight of the fact that they were founded as an anti-authoritarian movement, not a stuffy social club for bow-tie wearing Republican dope-smokers. Do you motherfuckers seriously believe that Karl Hess would give a flying fuck about my use of the word cunt? You people have to be fucking kidding me.

I may be trans but I'm no fucking lady and I don't intend to be. Who wants to be a fucking lady when you can be a bitch? All my heroes are fucking bitches: Frida Kahlo, Lou Reed, Courtney Love, Angela Keaton. Can you imagine where any of these fine fearless cunts would be if they minded their manners and acted more ladylike? I haven't the slightest idea but they wouldn't be my fucking heroes, I can tell you that. A lady is just a fancy word for a femme who knows her place. Well this femme fatale's only place is up in your motherfucking face and if that makes me persona non grata then so be it. I'd rather be ignored for who I am than praised for putting on airs.

And if any of you dearest motherfuckers got a problem with my big fat fucking mouth then you've clearly picked the wrong fucking blog. Choke on my man-clit. Comrade Hermit out!



Hate, Rage and Apathy- CH



Soundtrack: Songs that influenced this post.

* Femme Fatale By The Velvet Underground
* Jesus Don't Want Me For His Sunbeam By The Vaselines
* Slack Motherfucker By Superchunk
* Rockstar By Hole
* Just Like A Woman By Bob Dylan
* Where Eagles Dare By The Misfits
* Mama Said Knock You Out By LL Cool J