Show most recent or highest rated first.
page 4 of 31
< 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 >
Once, when I was about six, my aunt got dressed up to go out. She asked my opinion about how she looked. I thought she looked good, and so I told her, "You look like a slut." Apparently my family let me watch too much of the television show "Married with Children" where there are tons of pretty girls commonly referred to as sluts.
I used to believe my middle name was a 'bad word' because my mom only used it when I was in trouble.
I used to think making promises was wrong, because my dad said, "Don't swear."
My grandmother has always had very colorful language and I overheard her saying the word "bastards" as she was hitching up her knee-highs so I some how came to think that panty-hose were called "bastards." Imagine my moms surprise when I went into her room tugging at my tights and told her "MOMMY, I CAN"T GET THESE BASTARDS PULLED UP!" I think she later had a good laugh about it after she set me straight.
I thought "f*** you" meant "thank you" in an ironic way, like if you messed your work up and someone is upset.
I used to believe that when my dad yelled "Jesus!" at other cars when he drove me places, he was really saying "Cheeses!" So I started yelling that when I was upset. One day, my parents took me aside and told me not to say it anymore because some people found it offensive. I always wondered what they had against cheese.
When I was maybe five or so, I overheard my dad saying, "Son of a bitch." I didn't know what it meant, so I asked him, "Dad, what does 'son of a bitch' mean?" He answered, "Don't you ever say that again." I didn't realize that he hadn't answered my question, just forbid me to use the phrase, so when my older brother told me later in the day that he was going to take my portion of that night's desert I yelled at him, "SON OF A BITCH!"
when i was little i heard on a TV show someone say someone was a whore my whole family was there and i was confused and they wouldn't tell me what it was i then began to believe it was a another shorter word for horse (i know weird) and one day in the middle of the street i called my mum a whore because she wouldn't buy me any ice cream she was absolutely horrified i was 5 at the time :P
When I was little I used to believe that god's last name was damnit
I remember I thought the phrase "Amen" was a curse word...because my uncle was a mean, redneck guy who cussed all the time, and he used to always say "Hey Man" which sounds like "Amen"
So I thought that phrase was also a curse word along with the F-word and everything else he said all the time...SO the first time my grandmother asked me to say a prayer...I said it...but left out the "Amen" then she told me to say it. I freaked out and told her not to curse or God would be mad at her. She was VERY confused...I explained everything...she DIED LAUGHING...then assured me it was okay to say it...so I said it REALLY quick under my breath because I still felt bad for saying it.
When I was a kid, it seemed kids knew all the swear words. I thought swear words were a secret code that only kids knew about. I was shocked the first time I heard adults use OUR words, and doubly shocked to find out that these words had correct spellings and even appeared in printed books.
i was never very religious and even when i was very young, i doubted the existence of god. but one day, when i was about four, i was at my friend's house and she had given me this very small chair to sit in. i said something like "i dont want to sit in that f--king chair!" she gasped and told me that i had sinned and said god would hate me forever if i ever said a curse word again.
i didn't say another curse word till i was eleven.
My father used to curse, 'Damnation!' from time to time. I always thought he was angry at the country-- 'Damn Nation!'
I used to believe that you had a 'swear line' in your body. Each time you swore, you filled up a space on the line. Once you ran out of space, you died! Luckily Biology cleared it up.
When my mom was driving the car, she used to yell 'indictors!' really loudly to people who didn't use their indicators. I used to think it was a swearword so i cried every time she said it.
When my cousin was about five the word truck and the "F" word sounded the same out of his mouth. One day we were at the beach and a truck drove behind a bench where a couple was kissing and he ran over pointed and yelled "Look mom a big f***"
this isn't mine, it's something cute my sister told me a few days ago- when she was small she believed that the words in a text marked by the asterisk* were words that the author liked best of all.
When I was little my mom told me that flipping somebody off meant "go to Hell" and that I shouldn't do it. My friend and I decided that if we pointed our middle finger downward instead, it would mean "go to Heaven" and that it was a compliment. I think I was about 16 before I learned the truth.
When I was in Kindergarten, me and my friends heard the word "F***" in a movie and decided it was a quick way to say "forget".
Not too much later in the movie, we heard the word "s***" and decided it was the word "sheet" with a thick accent.
About a week later, we were all in class, and one of my friends was having significant trouble with a math worksheet we were doing. However, the sheet was not being taken for a grade, so, with the teacher all of three feet away, I loudly and proudly showed off my accent with the phrase "f*** that s***!"
I remember thinking, "Did the teacher mark all over her face in red crayon?"
I also remember taking math worksheets very seriously the rest of that year.
When I was little I thought the word 'bastard' was just something you called your friends like 'buddy' or 'pal' because my dad called all his friends and brothers 'bastard', like "Hey, bastard how's it going?' When he took me back to my mom's house after his weekend with me I said "Hey bastard!" to her so happily.Mom was convinced my dad set me up to this and wanted to kill him.
page 4 of 31
< 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 >
I Used To Believe™ © 2002 - 2008 Mat Connolley , web design and hosting by Iteracy. privacy policy

