Look, I’m not gonna lie. I cuss a lot.
In fact, my use of profanity has historically bordered on the poetic. I have a preternatural ability to string together bad words to add a flourish to just about any point that I need to make. My ability to curse is, frankly, a gift.
It’s rhythmic. It’s musical. I’ve delivered expletives with the kind of cadence that would make a Baptist preacher jealous. I can lace a rant so artfully that Samuel L.… Read more



