Having read all this earthy language, I admit to a bit of prudery, or at least restraint. I never heard vulgarities in my home as a child, and even during my lengthy military career I never adopted them, though they were all around me.
To me they were a weakness, a crude indulgence, that helped to separate the refined from the coarse. Within my family they were never permitted, and to acquire such habits ran the risk of speaking them in front of my parents. Who were not Christian fundamentalists, BTW, or anything like that, but simply cultivated people who couldn't ever say such things.
One time, returning from a vacation on Cape Cod, my parents let me drive their huge Chrysler Imperial back home. It was my first year with a license, a great privilege they gave me with this very expensive car, and the safety of my parents and my sister.
But the car was 2 years old, in the mid-1960s when things like brakes wore out more quickly than today. As I came to toll plazas on the Connecticut Turnpike, the brakes started to grind & scrape.
"What the hell is wrong?" I exclaimed. "The damn brakes are bad!"
Suddenly I realized there was a change in the car. Where before there was conversation, now there was silence. And the silence continued for many more miles before someone spoke again. I realized I had offended my parents.
I never said a foul or swear word in their presence again. Nor to this day do I swear like all my gay friends. Sometimes I write a word online, but not really representative of how I speak in person. As I age, more & more I accept that I am the product of my parents. Something of which I am proud and never regret.