Profanity and I have a bizarre sinusoidal relationship: there are periods where I swear like a sailor, and then there are periods where I’m all but repulsed by swearing. My peaks tend to occur when I swear enough to offend myself; I have no idea when the opposite extreme occurs.
At the moment I’m ready to physically cringe every time I hear someone casually swear (though, at the moment, I still have a bit of a potty mouth myself); without fail, it ends up sounding so horribly childish, so terribly hollow, that I actually feel sorry for the person.
Swearing because you feel pain is another game entirely, however. At least there’s legitimate force behind those words, in those instances.
Bollocks.