When I was in college my friends were afraid to have me meet their families. I don't really blame them. I'm not totally sure what all of the reasons were, but I think the primary was the fact that I have a mouth like a sailor. I'd like to thank my family for the gift of vulgarity. I was raised among blue collar workers, loggers, truckers, and a generally loving, yet tough crowd of people. I spent many a night coloring at the kitchen table of my grandmother's house, surrounded by adults chain smoking, drinking coffee or beer, and arguing about anything and everything. Every other word was an f-bomb of something of the like. My mom, a selective swearer, taught me a few rules about using my vocabulary wisely. I was allowed to swear at home but never at school or in the presence of non-family adults. I'm proud to say I never got detention in school nor do I think most adults in my life knew about my potty mouth. That is except for my BFF's mom, whose house I spen...