My dad never cursed. But when he growled “bunk” or “bologna” or “hell” when we caused trouble, it felt a lot worse than mom’s shit and damn. 

In nearly every book I read lately, I find a typo. And I’m not a great proofreader. So I thought maybe my skills were improving. But the head of a marketing firm told me they now charge extra for careful proofreading of blogs.  She said, most clients only care about content and most readers skim anyway.
 

"The very best way to read a poem is perhaps to be young, intelligent, and slightly drunk. There is no doubt, however, that reading poems in old age cultivates a desire to have read more poems in youth."
 
Mark Yakich, “Reading a Poem: 20 Strategies,” The Atlantic, November 2, 2014

I think maybe writer Jerry Siegel created Superman to quell his rage at his mother’s super powers. Otherwise, I think he would have killed her.
 
Jerry must have hated -- and loved – the way his mother’s xray vision saw his despair before it even registered on his heart. And the way her laser hearing always tuned to trouble before it happened. And the way her superior strength dismantled the torpedo of a bad mood.    
 
If you need proof, I submit to you the costume his illustrator, Joe Shuster designed – tights, a cape and just one forehead curl.

I don’t understand the new worry about resting bitch faces. Doesn’t everyone have one? Even men? It’s called repose and, to me, it’s an honor when someone is at ease enough with me to stop smiling and just be.