I Don't Give A Fish.

Thirteen years old, and we had just moved up into high school. I was always the good Christian boy, quick to please and eager to make friends. One of the friends I remember from those days was SH.

SH was the kind of guy who always made you laugh - portly, eyes that always spoke of mischief, and a ready motor mouth that elevated him to class clown status quickly.

I remember we wrote a hilarious play of Gulliver's Travels, which we were doing for English Literature that year, and we had the class rolling about in their seats, holding their sides, trying to contain their laughter. Ah, fun times.

We were great friends during those times. Sitting in the canteen one day, I heard him exclaim "Kah-ni-nah! Man, I can't believe that she only gave us two days to finish that homework, man!"

My ears pricked up to the phrase he was using - it was foreign to me, although I had heard him using it a lot recently.

"Eh," I asked him, "What does that phrase mean ah?"

"What phrase?"

"You know, the one that you just said... Kah-ni-what?"

"Oh, Kah-ni-nah. Erm, nothing lah. It's just a, erm, sentence enhancer, you know. It doesn't really mean anything. Just makes things sound nicer. You know, like 'Oh man, today's weather is just like, kah-ni-nah hot man.'"

I took his word for it. I heard him using it a few more times and I thought, hey, sounds good - I'm going to try and incorporate it into my everyday speech. It was a little exciting - sharing that phrase, like we were in a secret society or something.

At first, I had to test the waters - I would use the phrase in front of my friends "Kah-ni-nah! I almost missed the bus today man!" or "Crap! Forgot to bring my textbook again! Kah-ni-nah!" Soon, it was part of my everyday vocabulary, and it was rolling off my tongue like a magician's phrase - Abracadabra! - on the school bus, in front of the teachers, at home...

And so I was sitting on the exercise bike in front of the television at home one evening when I exclaimed, "Oh man, this cycling really hurts my thighs, man! Kah-ni-nah!"

My father, who grew up in the Hokkien-dominant Penang, was within earshot. He had heard me use the phrase a few times at home, and had shown remarkable restraint until this point.

"Eh, stop saying that phrase lah! It means 'Fuck your mother' in Hokkien lah, stupid."

The wave of fear and realisation descended upon my thirteen year old brain like a tsunami, I tell you. You mean, all this while... And, in front of my teachers...

He tricked me!

"Kah-ni-n...." I exclaimed under my breath, almost automatically.

"Oi!" came the reprimand from my already displeased father.

"Erm, I mean, oh dear!"

SH was going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow! He was going to get a quick kick up his sentence-enhancing butt!

******************************

Those very close to me will know that one of the only vices that I have is that I swear sometimes. (Although, I do indulge in... okay, maybe make that two vices. Ah, and then there's also the... and the... oh dear.)

Oh, I have friends who could curse to make a sailor blush. I had a friend who use to classify himself in secretarial terms - he proudly boasted that he spoke at a rate of 15 'bwps' or 15 bad words per sentence.

I know of another friend who cusses like a fishmonger, and it is so ingrained into his everyday speak yet he does it so amicably that you never take offence at him if you knew him well. This friend is ironically, a vegetarian. Go figure. No amount of not eating meat is going to save your soul, my friend.

Of course, we were taught at home and at school and at Sunday School that swearing was a bad thing. Your friends would out you with glee - "Cikgu, dia mencarut!" or "Teacher, he said bad words!" This would result in you getting a tongue lashing or a good ol'-fashioned beating or demerit points.

Bleeding little snitches.

In Sunday School you weren't allowed to use God's name in vain, so "Oh my God!" became "Oh my gosh!" or "Oh my goodness!" Even then, a teacher once pointed out - You're not even allowed to say "Oh my goodness!" because there is no goodness in you. Only God is good. (Here you go, kids! Enjoy your guilt-ridden childhood!)

I just think sometimes that swearing is a natural reaction, an exclamation at a situation or an exasperation that cannot be encapsulated in any other way save for that one economical word or phrase that expresses it all.

There's all this fear of judgement and being outed by our friends, however, and till this day, we try to suppress it as much as we can, as is evident in our kid-friendly variation of our swear words, such as:

Shit - Sheesh, Shoot, Shucks, Crap, Crud, Poop

What the hell! - What the heck!, What the heaven!, What on earth!

Fuck - Fudge, Fish, Eff, Fer*toot!*, Freak/Frig, Four-letter word (Although it was a little cumbersome, like "Go four-letter word yourself lah, idiot!)

Bastard - Basket (pronounced "Baaaassket!")

Bloody - Blooming, Bleeding

Damn - Dang, Darn

Ass - Donkey, Butt, Bum

Son of a bitch! - Son of a gun!, Sun on the beach!

The intentions were always the same, but somehow softened by these euphemisms, ie. "Sheesh! He is so dang annoying! I just wish I could throw a bleeding shoe through that fishing wall at that baaaassket!" sounds a lot friendlier than its actual counterpart.

So yeah, I have it from good sources that my father used to employ sentence enhancers quite liberally in his younger days. That was until us kids came along. Then the swearing got even worse!

Hahaha! No, he decided to cut it out completely, although it would escape once in a while when he wasn't careful.

Until that wonderful fateful day when I have to finally put on the mantle of a responsible father, please don't be surprised if you hear me using the occasional choice sentence enhancer (ie. swearing my fishing head off like a foul-mouthed sun on the beach), okay?

It just means I've grown really comfortable with you.