PlazaJen: Passion Knit

I have worked at a couple agencies where the profanity was rampant. RAMPANT. I remember my one hilarious boss in St. Louis, screaming a blue streak as we visualized the devoutly religious accounting dude in the office next to her freaking out, quietly, in his office.
Then when I was at Crazy Agency From Hell (the 4 month stint one, not the 5.5 year one), and I was tempted to even blog about that crazy woman by name, because whatever, she's on the run from a $1.1 million dollar lawsuit because of "financial mismanagement" and not paying her client's bills. Hey, Jodi, how's Texas treatin' ya?
ANYhoo, at that place, all sorts of blue language was screamed, spoken, laughed and expelled. Having learned the Art of Cursing from my father, I consider myself quite adept, if not extremely unladylike. And so that brings me to Current (Happy) Place, where I do enjoy my job, even if it does get stressful. And a place in which we all swear like sailors, including my boss, and every so often I just feel a little bad, because, like, we all sit near the front desk/reception area. Oops! Well, what the fuck. In times of stress, strong language is to be expected. I just keep thinking that if we move our offices in the next year, which is pretty likely, especially if the non-stop fucking DRILLING POUNDING RAT A TAT TAT motherfucking NOISE from the Bob Mahal construction keeps up, that they'd be wise to put our department in the back. With a little soundproofing.