Lessons in Profanity

Sewing and painting this year's Halloween costumes was so epic an undertaking that there were bound to be multiple accidents involving pins and needles. Pin spills, and subsequently lost pins that were found in painful, foot-related ways, broken pins (because someone didn't pull them out as she sewed with the machine), pin sword-fights with a truly bored 10-year-old, and several self-inflicted wounds from a certain large-eyed, dull-pointed needle required to conquer layers of denim and burlap. Suffice it to say, if I didn't know how to cuss like a sailor before, I do now. My first pain-inflicted or unhappily shocked impulse is to shout "Jesus Christ!" at the top of my lungs, but, being pretty much a Christian person, or at least sufficiently superstitions to regard the Ten Commandments as somewhat important (though I couldn't name them all to save my life- well, maybe then, but only under extreme duress, and you'd have to give me hints like you do with the seventh dwarf, which for me is never Doc or Bashful but generally Happy), I wanted to get out of that naughty habit, and fast. So as we labored, I sat trying to think of what I'd scream the next time I drew blood or sent a pot full of tiny weapons of mass destruction skittering across the linoleum. I came up with many good ones, but what follows are my favorites:

Christopher Columbus! (still personal, but less bad karma because he's nobody's deity, right?) Farfegnugen! (yes I can spell it, but what does it mean? get me an extreme inline skater, quick!) Gettysburg! Hallelujah! (that one's very nice if you can sing it, which I can't unless it really hurt, and the emphasis has to be on the third syllable or it loses all its restorative power) Jehosephat! (a nice emphatic final syllable, which is, I think, the appeal of taking the Lord's name in vain, but it might be blasphemy of its own, I'm not sure) Zikavich! (my imaginary friend, who should take the blame for my pain, anyhow) Cherry Pie! Hoobastank! Edelbrock! (any automotive-related German word ending in a consonant works great, actually, but just so you know, Vic Edelbrock [he of the Slingshot manifold] was born in Kansas [in 1913] and his Edelbrock automotive brand was born in Los Angeles, not Berlin or Munich) and last, but not least, Mannequin! My research concludes that when it comes to non-profane exclamations, three-syllable words work best to relieve the stress of sudden pain or unpleasant surprise, and that a string of three or more is infinitely more effective. For example: "Hoobastank, Edelbrock, Cherry Pie!!!" Voila. Oh, and if you can remember to clench your teeth fiercely while exclaiming, nobody will understand a word you said and it will still look like you're cool enough to cuss, but you'll be getting some serious brownie points in Heaven or Zion or Nirvana or wherever you're planning to take your eternal vacation. It's got the cool-appearance-vs.-negative-consequence-value of standing around the parking lot of a 7-11 with a candy cigarette hanging off your lip. Perhaps even more.