What the xxx?

I remember that when I was a Brussels Sprout, my scoutmaster remonstrated with another lad over his use of what the television people euphemistically call strong language.

"What," he asked, "will you say when you get really angry if you use all your swear words all the time?"

Most of my working life was spent in mixed company and in the type of environment where swearing would have been unacceptable, mixed company or not.  However, I have served on board warships and worked on building sites so my ears have not been wrapped in cotton wool.  I don't consciously make an effort to avoid swearing, but I do so only rarely - and then usually under my breath.  Or almost.  But I don't consider myself overly prudish where language is concerned.

All the same, I do get irritated when authors, in what they consider attempts at realism, sprinkle their books liberally with the F word.  I am reading one such book now, Pray for the Dying by Quintin Jardine.  It's basically a good yarn, but it would be no worse if it were a few dozen words shorter!