The joys of fucking the thingy

"Fuck! I think I left my phone back at the cafe!"

"Fuck! That's some seriously awesome piece of work!"

"Faaaack! Way to go dude!"

"She wants me to buy her that dress with those thingies hanging out. Fuck, it's costly!"

You get the idea.

There is beauty in calling a thing by its proper name. 'The streets are lined with rhododendrons like a huge grey carpet bordered by the blood of a thousand beautiful souls' definitely sounds better than 'This is fuckin' awesome! Look at all those red thingies!'. But there is a joy in convoluting names - in monopolizing the language with expletives and zing-a-whoos.

'Fuck' is like a bomb going off in a packed bus in the middle of Times Square. Like uncorking a shaken bottle of champagne, 'fuck' gives out imageries with dazzling colors and intense emotions. And 'thingy'! Well, what can I say about the 'thingy'! The 'thingy' is the cornerstone of any intellectual conversation and no other word has furthered the cause of universal acceptance and oneness than the 'thingy'!

Language is not a barrier. Language is the gateway to conversing without words. Once all the thingies are fucked, we can start talking.