A couple of suggestions:
From the upbeat side: Christina y los Subterráneos, Voy en un coche (“I’m driving a car / I stole last night / from a smart ass / looking to hook up… tell Dad / I’m leaving town / tell Mom / I’ll never be back…”)
From the “you can really yell this one” side: Siniestro Total, Bailaré sobre tu tumba (“I will kill you / with my tap shoes / I will choke you / with my ballet tights / I will hang you / with my tails coat / and you will die / while the DJ laughs. / And I will dance over your grave…”)
I said it to my boss just last Friday.
Have you ever felt like saying “fuck you” to certain people in your life?
Yes, right before I say “fuck you” to those people.
I’m on board with this one. And Fuck You to people that don’t realize that if I want to spend an evening home alone with a takeout pizza and a book —- that is a plan. And don’t challenge me when I say I can’t do something with you because “I have plans, I can’t go.” Because I’ve been looking forward to this night even if it doesn’t involve restaurants, shopping or other people. I HAVE PLANS.
And a hearty Fuck You to my bookkeeper at work. Because I have a vendor asking for payment on an invoice I submitted to you for payment 3 weeks ago. This would not be fraught if you were a normal person. But you are perfect. And you have never once made a mistake ( except when you do ). And you’re going to go off at me because, by asking you if it was paid, I will be insinuating that there is a possibility you made a mistake. Which, of course, you never do. Except you probably did. Then I will have to smile and nod and look understanding while I listen to your convoluted reasons why it wasn’t your fault and how you didn’t make a mistake. Even though this qualifies as one of the most insignificant mistakes in the history of business. Just pay the damn invoice and shut up.
And, also. — if I delay payment on an invoice because of cash flow problems and I tell the vendor, sorry…my office must’ve let it slip through the cracks…I did not “throw you under a bus”. It’s a white lie. It’s business.
Great idea for a thread, Thelma Lou. I’ll probaby have more later.
I blow off my parents every few years with a hearty and well deserved “Fuck You!”
I’m the black sheep of the family, they are religious, I’m an atheist, they are very conservative, I’m fairly liberal, they are crazy anti-drug, I’ve done some drugs.
We don’t get along all that well, on the best of days.
Sometimes, when they decide to be on good behavior, they are enjoyable to be around. They are my parents, after all, there is a familiarity that being around them brings me some form of comfort.
But, they are not always on good behavior. They are very aware of my views, and cannot stop themselves from bringing up subjects that they know we will disagree upon. When I visited them recently because I was looking for comfort as I had had a large loss in my life, I wasn’t there 15 minutes before my mother started gloating about Franken’s announcement that he would be resigning.
They bring up subjects that we’ve gone over before, and we know that there is no chance of either of us coming around to the other’s point of view, and refuse to let them drop when I try to disengage.
They also make no sense whatsoever sometimes, like some years ago, when my father said sneeringly, “Well, your buddy Dennis Rodman is hanging out in North Korea” (paraphrase, I don’t recall the exact words), with the point that I should personally feel bad about it, which I didn’t understand, as basketball is his thing, not mine, and rodman is much more connected to the republican side of politics than democratic.
So, yeah, every couple of years I need to tell them to fuck the hell off, and not talk to them again for a year or so. Usually they eventually come around, acting all apologetic, and I’ll forgive them, and they will avoid volatile topics for a while.
Then they start finding little bits to sneak in a comment here or there, and it builds and builds until I need to tell them to fuck off again. Probably have gone through this cycle half a dozen times at least at this point.
Nice.
If it wasn’t >$100 I’d buy it for next year’s “worst xmas sweater” contest.
Well, here’s one situation where I won’t blow up and scream a chorus of "FUCK YOU"s to people.
Yesterday playing Pathfinder in a game store. Three guys at the table so busy talking and carrying on and an easily distracted GM. I hate the adventure dragging out an hour or two longer than it should because one player is trying to take their turn, just rolled their dice and is asking the GM if she hit when some other jackass has to yell over the top of her to ask the GM a non-pertinent question. And he stupidly turns and starts talking to that person instead of paying attention to the person whose turn it is.
I made some noises and got people’s attentions to get back on the game at several points, but I walked out with a headache.
1> If it ain’t your turn, SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.
2> If you’re running the game, stop socializing and pay attention to the people whose turn it is. That’s literally your fucking job at the table.
If trump came over to me to shake my hand, I’d clearly and distinctly tell him to go fuck himself. Is that close enough to a fuck you?
F-bomb trivia.
Casino, the 1995 Robert De Niro hit movie…
Uses fuck, in one form or another, 422 times. And it’s not at the top of the fuck count list.
Probably 300 of those were by Joe Pesci, who can do the fuck rant better than anyone in the world.
If Trump walked up to me and stuck out his hand, I’d take a half step back, look down at his hand, laugh in his face and walk away.
Don’t need to say a word. 
I’d be tempted to raise up my hand, step forward, and grab him by the pussy.
See how he’d like it.
I second that emotion! Fuck yeh!
Works for me.
Interesting. I want to see an “F-Bomb Trivia” category on Jeopardy very soon. 
You seem like a decent person who has empathy for others, and want to treat them with love and respect. Unfortunately, there ARE people out there who aren’t anything like that, and they will hurt you and drain you as you attempt to hold yourself to your standards.
My Mom’s a piece of work, always has been even before the dementia. At least she wants to do the right thing and always had love in her. She’s just not very bright, has emotional issues, and didn’t always understand how to relate to people. Still, she always tried, and so we always tried with her as well.
My dad was a wife-beating, racist son-of-a-bitch who carried a, “nigger-beater” in his backseat, and spent my older sister’s childhood stomping around the house saying, “It’s all YOUR fault!” to her, since she was conceived out-of-wedlock and my folks married because of that. Way to take responsibility Dad. I was a large white boy with an IQ in the 130’s. You’d think there’d be raw material in there that even asshole racists could find, but I was a disappointment as well. The man was an asshole, through-and-through. As a 5-year-old, I remember him chasing me around the outside of our house with a 2x4. Why a 6’4" man needed a 2x4 to go after a 5-year-old I’ll never understand. My sister accused me of stealing that story from her - I don’t think I did, it’s just that he liked chasing kids with 2x4’s. Fucker.
He died when I was in my early 30’s, and we had just exchanged a few letters for the first time in over 10 years. When I got the news, I sat on my bed and cried for 30 seconds, sad for his passing and that it happened as we were getting to know each other again. Since then, it’s been obvious to me that 30 seconds of tears was about all he deserved. Later, I’d meet ppl he’d worked with and they had all sorts of racist and violent stories, but since they were of a kind, they all liked him and delivered the stories with great gusto and joy. I smiled and cringed inward.
As much as it would have meant to me to have had my father’s love and approval (and I’m pretty sure it fucked me up to some degree for decades) I’m much better off to have had him out of my life. Thank God he didn’t have the change to poison me with his hatred. Obviously it’s up to you if your mother fits that for you, but you might consider that, and free yourself of your guilt. Accidents of birth should not obligate you to forever forgive every and any behavior, nor to diminish your life on an ongoing basis by repeatedly letting them hurt you and pretend there’s nothing wrong with them.
We’re not getting younger, and poor health can strike any of us, literally, at any minute. Happens every second to someone, every day, but we put that out of our heads for the sake of our peace of mind. We need to consider it sometimes, though, or we’ll waste our lives doing hopeless things and making ourselves miserable without hope of a good outcome, and one day, suddenly, we’ll be out of time to make good memories.
I’m sorry your Mom is like that. I know it hurts, but from the little bit of your life you’ve shared, you are likely better off keeping your distance and freeing yourself from the resulting guilt. Some things in life won’t happen for us, no matter how much we want it. My dad was never going to give me what I wanted or needed, or even act line a decent human being. In retrospect, I’m so glad I had just enough years with him to understand that, and did not spend more time trying to ‘connect’.
Here’s an ‘F-bomb’ trivia question: when did people start calling it the ‘F-bomb’? The Urban Dictionary first defines it in early 2003, so no later than then. But probably not a whole lot earlier.
‘Fuck’ used to just be referred to as the ‘f-word’; it didn’t used to be a bomb. I don’t get the bomb stuff: if I drop an F-bomb, are people going to get maimed by the shrapnel, or what?
Fuck You $190.00 reading glasses, you give me a head ache and tired eyes. The $1 ones from the dollar tree are better. Plus I won’t cry when the dog chews them up or I sit on them.
It’s the nuclear weapon of curse-words. Hell, damn, shit. . . conventional fire. FUCK! That’s the big one. Of course there are others I think approach it, particularly with context, but that’s just about the biggest.
Many years ago, when I was married, my husband and I were poor, starving students. His step-father was the type of jackass who liked to leave large cheques he’d written for some charity, laying around so people could see how rich and generous he was.
There was mutual dislike between him and me for many reasons.
One Christmas we had $10 to our names which bought some rice, beans and carrots for dinner and a special treat of a doughnut each. There was no money for gifts so we had spent the previous weeks making each other a present.
Christmas morning husbands mom calls to say “Merry Christmas”. Then step-father gets on the phone to berate husband for not getting them presents.
I took the phone said “fuck off” and then hung up. It felt great and was many years coming. 
Have you ever felt like saying “fuck you” to certain people in your life?
Every waking minute of my life.
FUCK YOU to my next door neighbors who neglect their two beautiful dogs! I make sure the dogs have water every day at a bowl way at the back of where our yards meet (even in the hottest days of summer with temps 90-100, the wife would *forget *to put out water!), and I go to the fence and pet and talk to the dogs every day several times. Why do those idiots even have dogs?? No, I don’t report them to Animal Control, because I don’t want the dogs to go to the pound and be killed, and also, I want to keep a civil R with the neighbors so they will let me watch the dogs when they go out of town. I’ve been asking around and if I could find someone to take them, I’d gladly steal them.
I just went out in my back yard and saw that the owner has tied one of the dogs to the picnic table with a short leash! He gave her a bowl of dry food, but she was not in reach of her water bowl! The guy came out and I told him and he brought water to her, which she just guzzled. He said he tied her up because she jumped over the fence. Until he can do something to make the fence higher, she’s going to stay tied up! Which means she can’t reach the water bowl that I’VE put out for them.
This family has two kids, a boy about 8 and a girl about 10, and the kids are NEVER out in the yard with the dogs. Those kids are plenty old enough to have the responsibility of making sure the dogs’ water bowls are always filled. The parents are completely clueless.
In the hottest days of summer, they were outside with NO shade at all. Now that it’s cold, at least the owners are bringing the dogs in at night, although I suspect when they’re in the house they’re crated. Grrrrr! :mad: