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Queen Elizabeth drops the F-bomb!

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Reel Mama: Queen Elizabeth drops the F-bomb!

Monday, July 11, 2011

Queen Elizabeth drops the F-bomb!


Okay, it’s not true, but we are coming dangerously close to the moment when this is entirely possible. 

If we had a celebrity swear jar, we’d raise enough money to cure cancer, end hunger, and bring about world peace.  I want to wash their collective mouths out with soap, a good strong one like Irish Spring (none of this cinnamon-flavored or oatmeal—they would practically consider that breakfast).  Even Reese Witherspoon, the consummate celebrity good girl, a mom who makes it a point to take her kids to church every Sunday, recently dropped the mother of all f-bombs twice at the MTV movie awards while receiving her lifetime achievement award. Classy.

But when you live in LA, it’s everywhere, and no one cares that your toddler is hearing these words.  I sometimes feel like I’m in an episode of The Sopranos just walking through the parking lot at Target.  When did I become my mother? When did I become so sensitive to profanity?  It’s not all profanity.  I know profanity is necessary in many creative works for adults to make a point or tell a story.  What bothers me is profanity used when I know it’s a program young children are watching, like American Idol (my daughter only watches Elmo), or the inconsiderate profanity used in public when children are present.

I’m a mom now, and it may not be hip, but it’s my job to police the airwaves and make sure that what my daughter sees and hears is appropriate for her tender age. So if I do have to curse in this blog, I’ll do it Yosemite Sam style: #@!*&  Fragnabbit!

It’s enough to make you want to unplug the TV, throw it out the window, and move to Amish country. However, I have no idea how to install a car seat on a horse and buggy, so I don’t think that’s going to work.

Even the smurfs are cursing these days.  Well, they’re smurfing these days.  Just check out one of the trailers for the upcoming movie.  You know what Smurfette means when she says “Don’t smurf with me!” to the villainous but hapless cat Azrael in the trailer, or when another smurf (perhaps the newly-added “Gutsy Smurf”? Whoever heard of Gutsy Smurf??) says “What the smurf!”

But what can you expect?  They gave Papa Smurf dark sunglasses, making him look like he’s going through a late mid-life crisis and probably using Viagra. As far as I’m concerned, the person who wrote that script can go smurf themselves.

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