Nostalgia, I was sitting here at work talking with my one of my co-workers, who is far younger than I, the discussion was about how we learned electronics. During the discussion I rattled out “Bad Boys Rape Our Young Girls But Violet Gives Willingly” to which he responded “what!?” with a odd expression on his face, I repeated calmly without expression…. “Bad Boys Rape Our Young Girls But Violet Gives Willingly”
Cocking his head sideways, with a confused look he once again said “WHAT?!” and followed with “what the hell are you saying?”
Again I said “Bad Boys Rape Our Young Girls But Violet Gives Willingly” its how I learned the resistor band color codes I said.
0 Black — Bad
1 Brown — Boys
2 Red —- Rape
3 Orange – Our
4 Yellow – Young
5 Green — Girls
6 Blue — But
7 Violet – Violet
8 Grey — Gives
9 White — Willingly
Wow he replied, not vary PC…
PC (Politically Correct) it amazes me how sensitive people have become to things that not long ago were viewed as relatively nothing, giggled at because the phrase was silly or amusing. People will tell you that say things such as “Bad Boys Rape Our Young Girls But Violet Gives Willingly”, a light hearted blond joke, an off-colored joke; even of your own race, or green jokes are “insensitive to peoples feelings.. Bull-shit is what I think.. the only reason people no longer say or repeat such things is because there is some piss-ant of a person just waiting to get you fired and to sue the company you work for to make a fast buck.
I learned the phrase “Bad Boys Rape Our Young Girls But Violet Gives Willingly” in a training course that everyone who worked in manufacturing and engineering was required to take at a major telecommunications company I worked for. It’s interesting to think about how much things have changed and how much of our freedom of expression and freedom of speech people have surrendered.
Now something I hope can offend every one of the P.C. types for:
The priest in a small Irish village was very fond of the chickens he kept in the hen house out back of the parish rectory. He had a prized cock rooster and about ten hens. One Saturday night the rooster was missing and the priest suspected that it had something to do with the cock fights which occurred in the village. So he decided to speak about it at church the next morning.
At Mass, he asked the congregation, “Has anybody got a cock?”
All the men stood up.
“No, No,” he said, “That wasn’t what I meant. Has anybody seen a cock?”
All the women stood up.
“No, No,” he said, “That wasn’t what I meant. Has anybody seen a cock that doesn’t belong to them?”
Half the women stood up.
“No, No,” he said, “That wasn’t what I meant. Has anybody seen my cock?”
All the altar boys stood up.