What the $#@$*k!!?

Okay pottymouths, listen up -- California's first official "Cuss-Free Week" kicks off today, March 2-7. And while most people may find a non-swearing vocabulary paralyzing, immobilizing and incapacitating, I for one anticipate sailing through the week unscathed. C'mon, how hard can it be to go a few days without using expletives? Should be a fu....er, I mean, flippin' piece of cake.

Barring a few exceptions, of course. And so, this week I vow to not utter one single swear word. That is, unless I:

• Drop my Bluetooth in the toilet. Again.
• Stub my toe.
• Discover that my teenage niece has posted a photo of me on Facebook in which I bear a striking resemblance to Howard Stern.
• Sneeze and wet my pants. Not that this has ever happened before, mind you. I'm just mentioning this in case, uh, you know, beyond my wildest imagination it did happen.
• Get stuck behind some idiot in the "15 items or less" line who apparently can't read because he is buying enough groceries to feed Squaw Valley.
• Receive any type of correspondence from my physician that includes the word "colonoscopy."
• Gulp a generous swig of my latte only to discover that the soy milk I used expired three weeks ago.
• Am rammed in the knees by an over-zealous mall mom who is using her child's stroller as a battering ram so she can race over to Macy's for their daily "one day only" sale.
• Find my greyhound, Lucy, once again using my $125 handmade medium density side-sleeper hypoallergenic luxury down pillow as her own pillow...for her butt.
• Get yet another "invitation" from those stalkers at AARP. Hey, I'm in denial, folks. Work with me.
• Step in....oh, never mind. That's a Hall of Famer and goes without saying.

Yup, piece of cake, all right. Somebody hand me a staple gun for the lips and I'm good to go.