MORATORIUM

I am the first to admit that I have a proclivity to perorate with profanity; to squawk and swear; to blaspheme unbiasedly. Generally this profanatory performance is brought on by a disagreeable development.  Examples of these intolerable incidents include getting the mower mired in the mud at the bottom of a steep slope; sustaining a surprise sideswiping scratch from a feisty feline; bearing a brutal bite from the aforementioned malicious mouser, or slopping the sweet sustenance of sentience, otherwise known as coffee, on one's sweater. The imprecations rarely implicate an individual, they are only howled in hopes to free the frustration that has formed.

I have my prized profanities with which I punctuate persistently. My favorite four-letter words are generally not really composed of quadruple characters.  Made up of stops, fricatives and affricates, they just feel fine flowing out of my mouth.

Several weeks ago, Girl11.67 had had enough.  "I don't want to come from a cabin that curses!", she cried.  Thus began the moratorium on maledictions.

I endeavored to educate myself on equivalent epithets.  I have experimented with the ensuing examples and I have provided context.

Fiddlesticks, I left my keys at home!
Zooterkins, that refrigerator smells!
Gadzooks, you frightened me!
Gadsbudlikins, that hurts!
Cheese and Rice, will someone tell me what's going on?
ARGH!  Son of a motherless goat!
Shut the front door!  That really happened?

I was really doing well, I had not uttered anything unpleasant in several weeks.  On the day in question, I was readying my Rock the Crock rations, trying to open a tin of tomatoes.  The can opener was cranky and after completing one circle around the cap, it still wouldn't open more than a crack. I tried tipping out the tomatoes through the tear, but this was not a triumphant technique.  Then, I had a terrific thought:  I would carefully crush the can, thus altering the aperture to an oval, allowing more to ooze out.  I squeezed with all my strength.  Suddenly, the Sicilian sauce spewed on to my sleeves;  liquid landed on the laptop; fruit was on my front. After being pent up for so long, the profanity poured out.

$%#@^&*<%#!#@^&*>?!