Grab the soap!  Guess who has a bit of a swearing problem?  This guy.  I guess I was never really aware of it until I realized I’d be on LIVE TV every … single … day.

For those of you who can control your potty mouth, props to you.  For me, swearing is as natural and commonplace as breathing.  I don’t pay attention to either.  But lately, I’ve been made acutely aware that I need to watch the F-bombs and S-bombs that I liberally pepper in to conversation.

Why I swear is still a mystery to me.  It’s not like my parents used profanities growing up.  I don’t work in a factory or around longshoremen.  I’ve never been a sailor.  But somewhere along the way, the switch got flipped.

At my first job way back in 1992, my HR director actually called me in her office to chastise me for my rogue ramblings. She suggested throwing in words like “darn”, “shoot” and “crackers” in lieu of my usual lingo.  But saying things like, “Gosh, this darn tape isn’t working.  Shoot.  It’s driving me crackers!” was un-effing-satisfying.

Then the HR director offered me this pearl of wisdom and it stuck in my head:  “Michael, when you swear, you could potentially offend someone,” she admonished.   “If you DON’T swear, you never run the risk of offending anyone.  Got it?”

I said, “You think I’m an immature fart-knocker, don’t you?”  She wholly agreed.

Fortunately, I rarely WRITE swear words, in blogs, e-mails or church bulletins.  And since I pen a lot of my own copy — I think I’ll be safe.  Worst-case scenario … if I DO cuss on TV … I’m gonna blame it on Tourette’s Syndrome.  (Mind you, that’s merely a self-diagnosis.)  I mean, what OTHER reason could I have for using such colorful language?

Stay tuned to the show because one of my very first stories out of the gate is on Moms who swear.  I figure if I can’t do it myself … I might as well let someone else have some fun, right?  Hells, er, Hecks to the yes!