“Many a man’s profanity has saved him from a nervous breakdown. ” ~ Henry S. Haskins

My Aunt Patti was always talking about Loretta Lynn, Johnny Cash and Conway Twitty and his little Twitty-birds.  She always had a cigarette in her hand, and one of her teased-up Loretta Lynn wigs on her head – the kind which resembled some sort of nest-like bird habitat.  Aunt Patti’s hair was pretty much a mystery to me, I never knew what the heck was under there.  I guess Aunt Patti just didn’t want to bother with styling her real hair, since I know now that she really does grow her own.

A Hot Country Mess

Back in the 70′s my Aunt Patti’s true love  was country and western music — and swearing.  Aunt Patti would swear in everyday conversation;  it just seemed to work for her.  If she saw a cop, she called him a friggin’ flat-footed bastard.  If the car in front of her didn’t step on the gas immediately at a green light, she’d say  “the f*cking light’s not gonna get any greener, ya friggin’ @sshole” and so on. 

(Italian Lesson: to swear like a trooper = bestemmiare come uno scaricatore di porto)

If we were at a restaurant with Aunt Patti, before she could say “pass the mother f*ckin’ mashed”, she would always ask the waitress to being a spoonful of their sauce before ordering any saucy dish.  She’d turn to us and say, “I need taste their f*cking sauce before I order their friggin’ food; I’m not getting screwed with sh!tty friggin’ sauce here”.  Aunt Patti’s colorful raunchiness with the English language always held a high entertainment value, and provided us with something to laugh about the next day.

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