I grew up in a household where we did not curse. My parents met at church -- they both taught Sunday school and were and are paragons of something they like to call Family Values. 

My mom may have cussed like a sailor before going ultra-Christian, but I doubt my mild-mannered dad ever did ANYTHING. He spent his first 19 sheltered years with a doting, controlling and overprotective mother, before he married my doting, controlling, and overprotective mother and meekly plodded through the next 45.

I once heard my dad say "shit", when our Ford pickup, piggybacking a big camper, broke down on a 100+ degree day, at rush hour, on the Vegas strip. He said it under his breath, furtive and a bit excited, like a defiant nine year old would. I don't think my mom even heard it or he woulda been in TROUBLE!

When I was 16 I could still count the number of times I had  a) lied and b) used "foul language" on the fingers of one hand. And that's combining the two totals! I was frighteningly devoted to the tasks of not disappointing my mother and/or avoiding eternal damnation. I pored over scriptures trying to determine where it said that "asshole" was a bad word. 

At 18 I married a semi-professional jazz musician who took cursing to a pinnacle of excellence. He taught me words and usage that never made it into the bible. When combined with alcoholic inspiration, my own vocabulary became quite colorful, and I honed my skills over the years.

I discouraged our kids from swearing, as I assumed a good mother should. I never told them they would go to hell, OR (my mom's favorite argument) that people only swear because they are stupid and don't have enough intelligent words to use. To this day they can all speak in full sentences. 

When I taught fifth grade I tolerated the occasional expletive from a kid -- but they couldn't be disrespectful or abusive even with public-school-approved words. I taught that there were no "bad" words, only words that may be inappropriate for the situation. Some of their parents thought I was a bad word  -- although it didn't upset them as much as my blatant refusal to waste an hour a day teaching kids to write in cursive, and that I often forgot to lead them in the mandatory daily allegience chant. 

Now, as an adult with adult children, I use words that were once considered "foul" the same way I use any other word. When they fit. I don't think of words as "F-bombs" or "A words"  or -- heaven forbid -- bleeps!  Not much shocks me anymore. I am not appalled when someone says cunt or fucktard or motherfucking cocksucking shithead (I do cringe a bit when I hear nucular, anyways, or litature), and if you get me drunk I can blister exposed skin with my words from 40 paces.

Sometimes, it's the innocuous things that have the most shock value.

Yesterday, while playing tennis (okay, it was XBox tennis...) my Sampras swatted a set-winning ace right past my hubby's Grosjean, and he shouted "Maggot!". Eww. Maggot? How disgusting. I can't perform deft digital volleys with visions of squirmy fly larvae in my head! Why not shout "Shit" or "Goddammit!" or even "You fucking cunt!"? I could have handled that. But, no, he had to go and use a really bad word!