Bawdy Language

Truly ballsy but also somewhat bollixed or balled-up were the Skopts,  a religious  sect at the time of Catherine II and  Alexander I, which  initiated new  members into  the  cult  by  searing  their  balls with a hot  iron.  For some  unexplained reason, the  sect  died  out— but  their  rites  lived  on,  entering the  language as  our  “baptism of fire.”

Balls  have  also served  us well as an important interjection, part of our long-standing tradition of using the better  half of the body to register  emotion. They express surprise and  exasperation (“Nuts!”) as well as incredulity and  disappointment (“Nonsense!”).

“Baloney!”  you  say?  As Partridge reminds us,  that  word  comes not from the sausage but from the Gypsy pelone—for balls.

Functionally speaking, it would  be difficult to imagine  the sports world  without balls.  Absolutely critical  to most  of our games,  they are governed by definite  rules  as to their use.  It’s proper  for men  to play  ball  with  balls  provided by  management, but  it’s forbidden that  they  play  with  their  own  balls. And when  a ball  bounces up and  hits the catcher in the balls, it is said to “ring his bell,” though the sound is that  of a dull thud  followed by a shrill cry.

Hedy Lamarr: “I’ll meet you in front of the pawn shop.”
Bob Hope: “Okay, Dottie, and then you can kiss me under the balls.”
—Sketch on The Pepsodent Radio Show.
(Hope’s line in the script was a simple “Okay.”)

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S-H-I-T. It is probably the most popular word in the English language and responsible for some of our most expressive sentiments. We’ve a shit-load of expressions that capture perfectly the nature of the human condition. Add a simple exclamation point and what better way to register disgust, disappointment, or frustration? It can mean very little — nothing, or the least quality as “This ain’t worth shit.” or represent the very best, as in top quality street drugs: “This is some good shit

It’s everywhere. You’ll find it in the most exotic places — in your pants, alongside a shave, shower, shine, and shampoo, on a stick, and in a handbag (all 20thC). Most people are full of it; those who aren’t simply act shitty. We start the day telling others, “I feel like shit,” eliciting the remark, “You do seem flushed.” Dispassionate observers reinforce the sentiment, noting how you look like shit or like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag (both 20thC). We pretend not to notice the resemblance.

When you speak of a movement, or sit on a seat,
Have a passage, or stool, or simple excrete;
Or say to the others, “I’m going out back,”
Then groan in pure joy in that smelly old shack.
You can go lay a cable, or do number two,
Or sit on the toidy and make a do-do,
But ladies and men who are socially fit,
Under no provocation will go take a shit!

— “Ode to Those Four-Letter Words”

Read more – “Bawdy Language,” the Book

Enjoy new Bawdy Crossword every Monday.

Christianity has done a great deal for love by making a sin of it.

You might not have guessed it from the Old Testament, but for the Jews, fucking has always been a matter of doing the agree- able (19thC)—no guilt, no pain, no anxiety. Good sex was considered a mitzvah, an exemplary deed. The most pious reserved Friday night for doing it with their wives, choosing the most holy day, the Sabbath, to perform this most sacred and blessed act.

We’re Cross with You

The Christian attitude toward sex, on the other hand, left everything to be desired. It originated with the Church leaders and authorities, who did much to shape and influence future attitudes on the topic.

Before you could say “hellsfire, brimstone, and damnation,” people began feeling guilt. Soon they found themselves doing the naughty (19thC), feeling naughtiness in the pleasure prior to, during, and subsequent to the act.

The medieval Church worked hard to eliminate guilt by simply cutting down on the number of occasions on which one might feel pleasure. It recommended abstinence on Thursdays in memory of the capture of Jesus; on Fridays in memory of his death; on Saturdays in honor of the Virgin Mary; on Sundays in memory of the Resurrection; and on Mondays in commemoration of the departed souls. The act was also forbidden forty days before Pentecost and Christmas, and was never to be performed on special feast days or during Lent. Thus was born the appointment book.

Read more – “Bawdy Language,” the Book

Enjoy more Quotes from the library of Dr. Bawdy

I was walking along this fucking fine morning,
fucking sun fucking shining away,
little country fucking lane,
and I meets up with this fucking girl,
fucking lovely she was,
so we gets into fucking conversation,
and I takes her over a fucking gate into a fucking field,
and we has sexual intercourse.

How to use the “F” word.

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As a public service, we delight in sharing with you the origin of the Webster-approved " f-bomb:"

Interesting how we call it a “bomb.” We bomb on exams, dates, and other critical moments in our life which often culminate in either getting drunk or stoned.

When so bombed, we’re out of our mind with often devastating results.

Curiously, these are also the times when the f-bomb is most likely to be dropped. It frequently comes out of the blue—a bombshell of sorts, a term which originally described something unusual and sudden with unpleasant and painful results.

It’s also a “blockbuster,” delivering shattering or surprising news with real repercussions. The original “blockbuster” was a bomb employed during WWII, touted for its ability – you guessed it — to destroy an entire city block. Today it describes major box-office success or a revelation from the campaign trail.

The f-bomb also often heralds the sensational and, when dropped suddenly, can leave considerable devastation in its wake. It’s a great word, one deserving of our respect. Context and tone is everything. Like all other words, it is meant to be used with intelligence and deftness.

Remember dear reader: obscenity, by itself, is the last refuge of the vulgar and the crutch of the inarticulate motherfucker.

Enjoy new Bawdy Crossword every Monday.