Not for the content, here. Just for some of the language. And that language will offend the community standards of most decent people, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Motherfuckers.
OK, that word? I don’t say that*. I could count on one hand, maybe even on my thumbs, the people who have actually heard me use that word. Out loud. In my head? That’s a little different. And I blame Shamar Moore.
He’s the really cute guy on Criminal Minds. He’s a young, black guy, talented, well-spoken
::tangent::No I did not call that man “articulate.” I said “well-spoken” instead. Because as best I can determine, a black person in America simply can no longer be described as “articulate.” Because that’s politically incorrect and/or racist. White people can be articulate; black people cannot. (If we ain’t some crazy-ass muthafuckas…) This is unfortunate, I think. Relatively few of us (Americans) are truly “articulate.” And now there are even fewer. Yes, I do understand why some choose to be offended by that adjective when applied to an African-American. And I say it’s time to let the word mean what it means, as applied to any who deserve it.::end tangent::
So anyhow, I like to watch Criminal Minds. And somewhere I saw young Shamar on a talk show, and I found him attractive, charming, yea, well, I already said how I found him. But then I saw him on another show — TMZ. A kind of celebrity in-your-face show. I think he was drunk. But part of what he kept saying, over and over (or did they just keep replaying it?) was this: “I am Shamar Motherfuckin’ Moore.” Over and over. So that now, every time, and I mean every time, I see the man, my internal voice says, “Oh, look, it’s Shamar Motherfucking Moore.” On a talk show (look, it’s Shamar Motherfucking Moore!), when he arrives on the scene of a serial killing (hey, there’s Shamar Motherfucking Moore!)…
It’s really a very objectionable word. And yet, it is almost infinitely expressive. It communicates something sometimes, when other words fall short. For example, if I see a bruise on your leg and I say, “Does it hurt?” and you say, “Why, yes, it hurts quite a lot!” then I might nod and change the subject. But if I see the same bruise and ask the same question, and you reply, “Like a muthafucka!” then I become much more concerned, maybe even ask some follow-up questions or offer you an icepack or something.
People know you motherfucking mean business when you use that word. I have never seen “Snakes on a Plane,” yet somehow, I know that those snakes’ days were numbered when Samuel L. Jackson had finally HAD IT:
Anyhow, the last couple of weeks, I said that word (in my head) a fair amount even when Shamar was nowhere in sight. While I was planning a children’s party.
::tangent::Long-time readers may have picked up on the pattern that the more stressed/depressed I am, the sillier and/or more outrageous/offensive my writing tends to be. And while I’m tangenting here, allow me to credit my dear friend, mrtl, for the :: tangent indicator device.::end tangent::
So, I was planning this huge surprise birthday/moving away party for LG’s friend, and the daughter of my friend. The thing was big. And rather expensive — not that I begrudge one cent — more expensive than I might have gone for if it were a party just for us. A bit over-the-top, even for one known for over-the-top kid parties. Anyhow, I sent out about 40 invitations. The guest-of-honor has a lot of friends. And I mentioned at least three times on invitation and enclosure, that it was a SURPRISE!!!!! party. And don’t you know, within two motherfucking days of sending the invites out, one little motherfucker had motherfucking TOLD the guest of honor (GOH) about the party. What part of SURPRISE!!! did that motherfucking “gifted and talented” 12-year-old NOT understand? (I knew the GOH would probably be tipped off; but I thought it would be by accident, not a deliberate act, as was the case.) So, yea, we continued slaving away to organize a motherfucking surprise party that wasn’t. And that was a little disheartening for my daughter and her BFF/co-party-planner, who were so thrilled to be surprising their friend. It was just sad. Motherfucking sad.
Another feature of that party was that each guest was to give to my daughter or her BFF, a scrapbook page, to be compiled into a book for the GOH. We gave them a motherfucking deadline of one week prior to the party. One motherfucking middle-schooler met the deadline. The rest straggled in. I got over that. I started telling kids’ parents as long as we had them the day before the party, we’d be good. And I took considerable solace in the fact that, even though the GOH wouldn’t be surprised by the party, the really cool friend-made scrapbook WOULD be a surprise to her. That is, of course, until the night before when one of the little motherfuckers called the GOH to say, “I haven’t been able to make your scrapbook page yet, but I’ll give it to you after the party and you can add it in.” MOTHERFUCKER!
And don’t even get me started on the RSVPs. Some of the expense of the party was related to the hired caricaturist. I had to sign a contract for that motherfucker (OK, that one was gratuitous, not at all heartfelt). And the cost was dependent upon the time I needed to contract with him for, which was dependent upon the number of guests likely to get their caricatures done. I motherfucking needed to know who was coming. Motherfuckers did not reply. One time, the day after the “reply by” date, I was at a meeting with the mothers of two of the invitees. And I very politely said, “Oh, while I have you here, are Lissa and Emmy coming to Erin’s party?” And do you know what they said? The MOTHERS said, the day after their children were already supposed to have replied, they said, to my face, “I don’t know.” Well, can you point me toward the motherfucker who WOULD know? WTF?
So, yea, it was a tough gig. But, and this is a big BUT, the day of the party, all was well. It was one helluva fun party. Not a motherfucker in sight (in my head). Yea, there wasn’t a surprise, except I was a little surprised by how much Erin LOVED the scrapbook. A day later, when I went to say a final goodbye (for now) to her mom, my friend, she told me that Erin had not stopped looking at the book. She was sure Erin would treasure it the whole time they are away.
If you ever plan to have a motherfucking backyard carnival party, I can be your consultant.
*That is, of course, unless some motherfucker steals my lunch.
motherfucking motherfuckers – Lesson learned: When having a surprise party for 12-year-old, all the guests have to be surprised, too – ?
That has to be the profanest (is that a word?) mofo post I have ever read.
See, I don’t say or think that other word. Nothing against it, really; it’s just not one of my words. (Sometimes a “mofo” sneaks in though. That’s as close as I get.)
Sorry all those people screwed you around with the party. It looked awesome in pictures, though.
And this right here is why I motherfucking love you so much! Same kind of party ruined here, different characters playing the motherfuckers. XOXO! Have a great weekend!
That’s the thing about “big events” such as that. All sorts of motherfuckers mucking up the planning and not giving a damn toot about anyone but their motherfucking little selves.
I am SO VERY GLAD the party was such a success.
In our house, Hubby is the motherfucker. 😉
You are a saint.
It is time to universally harsh the motherfucking mellows of all inconsiderate people.
As someone who spends her life planning events (albeit ones where everyone knows about them and nobody gets to leap out and yell, “Surprise!”) I sympathise. It sounds as though you did an amazing job, despite the motherfuckers. 😉
The person that let the surprise slip? What a DOOFUS. 🙂
I am totally offended by the gratuitous use of the word Mother fucker.
All the other ones are fine but seriously the one gratuitous one should have been heartfelt.
Okay by my count there were 21 uses of the MF word in the post and 10 more in the comments So far that is 31 Motherfuckers. Now it 32
and one Doofus.
I think that we can all feel William’s point and strive to make ALL of our “Motherfucker”s heartfelt. And seriously. No one knows how to RSVP anymore. Motherfuckers need to learn to PLAN AHEAD. Ahem.
(For another instance of SLJ’s heartfelt use of “motherfucker”, also while holding a gun, see here: http://preview.tinyurl.com/43bh8y)
Good Grief!! Glad I didn’t read at 6am… oh, wait, I don’t think you posted until after lunch… still…
[goes to clean out ears with soap]
I have a party to plan in a few weeks. Guess what word will be running through my brain?
hmmmm….
The question is, Do you still have the horses??
I suppose I can’t come help you exercise, feed and care for them without an invitation and directions to your house…
Sounds like some of them were trying to steal your lunch and supper too. That is what a hootenanny will get you.
Bless their hearts……….
Our favorite that our daughter has picked up is “Shut the front door”.
Sorry someone had to spoil the surprise!
You done good Mom!!
Ok… wait. Have you heard of an “MFCS” fit? I think you will appreciate it. My dad can swear like no one else I know…. when we were kids he would always start out with MotherFucking CockSucking…. (hence the MFCS fit) and go on from there…. we would rate him on cleverness and for not repeating any words…. It seems kinda horrible as I type it but it was a very funny thing.
What, no deeply expressed “COCKSUCKAH!” for Deadwood’s sake?
If you’ve really never seen SoaP, you need to remedy it and Netflix that motherfuckin’ movie TODAY. It’s an almost religious experience.
Susie – Glad to see you are back in fine form. This might be the most expletive-filled post you’ve ever done?! I have my own string of words, and they are always in the same order, but never out loud when anyone is around, and the short version is GDMFSOB!
But an even funnier one has to do with my uncle who, 80+ years ago, was angry at my grandmother, and so he stormed down the front steps of the house with a “bad word” for each step “shit, dammit, to hell”. You’d have to know my uncle and my grandma to know how funny that is.
Glad the party went well in spite of all the MF people trying to screw it up. Nobody thinks RSVP means “them!” so you might as well put on the invitation “If you dont’ MF call me, then you ain’t MF welcome at the MF party”
That.was.hilarious. I’m surprised your fingers could even type out those words!
Yes, I now know who to contact the next time I plan a have a motherfucking backyard carnival party!
I feel so totally understood now!!!
oh my gosh I am roooolllling on the floor. That was just too motherfucking much.
Hey Susie… Sweet Pea’s birthday is next month… I was wondering… can you help me out with that party? 🙂
I think I’ll take Barb’s advice about the RSVP verbiage… 😉
Susie, I love you! There are times when words like that roll of my tongue at the drop of a hat. But you make them seem almost eloquent when you write them. 🙂
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I don’t really mean to laugh at your pain, but DAMN girl, this is one muthahfuckin funny-ass post!!!
OK, so here’s the deal: I’m infamous for RSVP’ing late. I wish I weren’t, but I am. I have devoted conscious effort to changing that, and I’ve been very good for awhile now, but still, the reputation persists. I promise though, if ever you invite me to anything, whether a shindig or a goddamn hootenany, I will RSVP in time so as not to make you cuss at me.
Give the mofo ponies a little sugar for me, please.
I’m sorry you had so many people bent on spoiling the fun, but I so *LOVE* the way you tell a story! Hilarious!
That archived post is awesome. There are some beautiful words to live by there.
I’m laughing my ass off and feeling good about not ever having thrown a party where so much depended on the actions of others. The only thing I can compare it to is working on a group project with 6 or 7 20-something MFs when I was an undergrad.
My friend Cherie’s father used to say “You can’t have nothin’.”
I once had to change schools because I called a boy an elaborate version of motherfucker and made him cry. (The whole name I called him was a MF’ng father-s*cking sawed off SOB.)
I loved this post! Ahhh the memories….
If you lived closer, we’d totally plan some par-tays!
ROFL!
Hubby and I always joke (half-seriously) that we’re going to write a book titled You Parents! I think know that You Motherfucking Parents! would be much more of an eye-catcher! 😆
Seriously – how do you deal with so many inconsiderate jackasses without going postal?
Oops – that “know” should be “now”
susie, i love you!
i just motherfuckin’ love you!
and the ponies? they rock!!!
OH MY!…….I remember him when he was on Young and the Restless…..now I know why it’s called that….. I say OH MY because, I wanted to see Sex in the City, and thought who can I go with, my friends are all pretty religious…..but when I mentioned the show they both said they wanted to see it…. So it just started and it was in a ( religious point of view) pretty sexy, when I heard OH MY!…..and then another OH MY!….and finally I said, that’s it….no more OH MY’s……so they where pretty good, even when the huck turned around naked…..but when the dog started humping the pillow, I looked at my friend and said “You can say OH MY now…….we laughted about that…… judy
Ok so, I was wondering about some of the language in your Tweets lately, but I failed to read this blog post until just now! Not that I was offended or anything, but coming from you that was a LOT of motherfuckers.
This is one of your funniest posts. I laughed my motherfucking ass off!
Wowza.
The same day of your party M and I were in NY for a 40th anniversary party. We got heavy showers too, and all turned out well in the end like yours, too, despite the anniversary couple’s house burning to the ground the same morning in Atlanta…
In this particular case, it was one ofthe times when it really made me think there is a higher being looking out for us. Where else would you want to be when your house burns down in the middle of the night (and there is truly nothing you can do) than far away with all the ones you love?
Mutha fuckin’ yeah! Or as I say in real life, mother truckin’ yeah. It’s classier that way.
I love that you had this party, and all the crap and expense that led up to it does not detract from the fact that it was the best going away party ever. Now please, sir, please pick up the poor ponies.
Well I’m glad I finally motherfuckin’ stopped by! That’s hilarious!
I just passed out. That was BEE ewwww taH FOOL.
~Pamela
Just now found the site…Lolololol what a great Motherfucking story. Iluvd it almost a year later
i admire party planners coz they really know how to make a great and memorable party `