When we were kids and grown-ups would forget we were around and about (and always underfoot) every once in a while in conversation one of them might slip up and use a Bozo No-No word. Before George spelled it out in detail, we all knew them, no matter the language. To some degree, the song remains the same.
When that happened, dollars to donuts, the offender would say 'Pardon my French.' I was halfway through the second day of my first-ever visit to France before confirming that not one of the words those grownups had ever said was French, not even in the littlest bit. Jeepers, Wally!
Actually, the biggest and most infamous offender of the not-really French words is, of course, 'the F Word.' But as is so often the case with a problem, there are solutions, or in this case alternatives.
We can't cure poverty, stop hate, end war, or feed the hungry.
But Kayfabe is right in our wheelhouse.....
-bill kenny
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