Listen. If you want to curse, fine. Do it with some class. Never as a substitution for wit. Dig? There’s an art to it. But as evidenced by the organically unimaginative and chronically unfunny, lacing a story with gratuitous F-bombs has become the norm. It’s puerile and jejune and extremely low rent. It’s the mainstay of morning zoo-show anachronisms and trite broadcasting swill. Herein, is my disquisition and tribute to the noble art of cursing and cussing. There’s a place for the off-color and scabrous but only if well-timed and deftly placed.