Last night, at the American Legion -- which, may I add, offered a menu consisting of beef jerky, cashews, and peanut butter cups, along with walls that were heavily carpeted -- I was talking to some friends who are moms of teenagers. One of them said she was irritated by her 16-year-old son dropping the f-bomb all the time. F-- this F--- that. And she couldn't get him to stop. She wanted to get across the point that you can't go thru life adding the f-word to every sentence with every person you meet. She knew that she had to do something beyond grounding him, or taking away his air guitar game, or whatever, to get results.
One evening, when all of his friends were at their house and her son kept saying it, she yelled: "If you don't stop saying 'fuck' every two minutes, I'm gonna grab your dad and fuck him right here!"
The kid was mortified. His friends were disgusted. And her son has not dropped the f-bomb since.
After I picked my jaw up off of the floor, I complimented her on her results-oriented approach. So I felt it my duty to pass it along to other parents, aunts or uncles.