I can't remember when I first heard today's quote. It's sort of like the rising of the sun -- I can't remember a time in my life when it hasn't been there, and I can't imagine a time when it won't be there.
I only know of one time for sure that this one was used, though I know it is at the ready at any time.
Here's the story: I was in 7th or 8th grade and I had a couple of friends over spending the night. It was Saturday or Sunday morning and me and my two friends were playing Nintendo. Dad spent most of the morning polishing his shoes because he had a meeting to go to in El Campo that had to do with being the school board president at Nazareth Academy (our school). After he finished polishing his shoes he took a shower and got dressed in nice clothes. Then he went outside to get the car ready for the trip. It was a little bit of a big deal because he was taking the principal of the school and maybe another person or two in our car. Even though our car was a piece, he wanted it to look nice and run well for the trip. Since he was already in nice clothes, he called me outside to help since I could get dirty with no problem. I cleaned the trash out of the car. Dad then pulled the car into the yard within reach of the water hose because he wanted to flush the radiator. He gave me instructions as I loosened plugs, tightened them again and poured antifreeze into the radiator. I'm not sure if he got impatient with how slowly I was moving or what, but he gradually started doing more of the actual work instead of just telling me what to do. At one point, he was running the car to circulate the fluid in the radiator. For some reason he needed to take the radiator cap off while the car was running so he could top off the fluid. He got a handful of rags to twist off the radiator cap so he wouldn't burn his hands (that shit gets hot). I was standing a little off to the side, watching. Dad leaned over as far as he could, putting his body (and nice clothes) as far away from the car as possible. He twisted the radiator cap and all of a sudden the pressure from the steam blew the cap off and a stream of radiator fluid spewed into the air in an arc. It was like slow motion. The fluid was heading right for Dad. He backpedaled to get away from it. The fluid hit the ground about six inches from Dad and splattered all over his freshly-polished shoes, ruining the finish. Dad took one look at that, looked up into the air, arched his back and put both rods high, screaming "GODDAMNITCOCKSUCKERMOTHERFUCKER!!!!!" Then he went inside, changed his shoes and went to pick up the nun who was the principal of the school to go to the meeting.
Postscript: When Dad went in the house to change his shoes my friends scattered and hid when he came inside - they had never seen this kind of spectacle before. I actually didn't think it was any big deal. It was funny to me, but I guess I was used to these kinds of outbursts so I wasn't scared like they were. They were pretty freaked out. I guess their dads didn't scream "GODDAMNITCOCKSUCKERMOTHERFUCKER!!!" at their houses.
My most vivid memory of this string of vulgarity came while I was "helping" Dad work on a car. Dad explained how he hated using 12-sided sockets because they didn't grip as well as six-sided. Unfortunately he needed a metric size socket for this job and the only metric sockets he had were twelve sided. The first time it slipped of a bolt he said nothing. The second time he said "See what I mean?" The third time he just looked up with a knowing half-smile. By the fourth time he'd had enough and uttered a solid "Got-damn!" The next time was the straw that obliterated the camel's back and he cut loose "goddamnshitcocksuckermotherfucker!" This represents maybe the first time that I found one of Dad's tirades more ridiculous and funny than terrifying.
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I only know of one time for sure that this one was used, though I know it is at the ready at any time.
Here's the story:
I was in 7th or 8th grade and I had a couple of friends over spending the night. It was Saturday or Sunday morning and me and my two friends were playing Nintendo. Dad spent most of the morning polishing his shoes because he had a meeting to go to in El Campo that had to do with being the school board president at Nazareth Academy (our school). After he finished polishing his shoes he took a shower and got dressed in nice clothes. Then he went outside to get the car ready for the trip. It was a little bit of a big deal because he was taking the principal of the school and maybe another person or two in our car. Even though our car was a piece, he wanted it to look nice and run well for the trip. Since he was already in nice clothes, he called me outside to help since I could get dirty with no problem. I cleaned the trash out of the car. Dad then pulled the car into the yard within reach of the water hose because he wanted to flush the radiator. He gave me instructions as I loosened plugs, tightened them again and poured antifreeze into the radiator. I'm not sure if he got impatient with how slowly I was moving or what, but he gradually started doing more of the actual work instead of just telling me what to do. At one point, he was running the car to circulate the fluid in the radiator. For some reason he needed to take the radiator cap off while the car was running so he could top off the fluid. He got a handful of rags to twist off the radiator cap so he wouldn't burn his hands (that shit gets hot). I was standing a little off to the side, watching. Dad leaned over as far as he could, putting his body (and nice clothes) as far away from the car as possible. He twisted the radiator cap and all of a sudden the pressure from the steam blew the cap off and a stream of radiator fluid spewed into the air in an arc. It was like slow motion. The fluid was heading right for Dad. He backpedaled to get away from it. The fluid hit the ground about six inches from Dad and splattered all over his freshly-polished shoes, ruining the finish. Dad took one look at that, looked up into the air, arched his back and put both rods high, screaming "GODDAMNITCOCKSUCKERMOTHERFUCKER!!!!!" Then he went inside, changed his shoes and went to pick up the nun who was the principal of the school to go to the meeting.
Postscript: When Dad went in the house to change his shoes my friends scattered and hid when he came inside - they had never seen this kind of spectacle before. I actually didn't think it was any big deal. It was funny to me, but I guess I was used to these kinds of outbursts so I wasn't scared like they were. They were pretty freaked out. I guess their dads didn't scream "GODDAMNITCOCKSUCKERMOTHERFUCKER!!!" at their houses.
My most vivid memory of this string of vulgarity came while I was "helping" Dad work on a car. Dad explained how he hated using 12-sided sockets because they didn't grip as well as six-sided. Unfortunately he needed a metric size socket for this job and the only metric sockets he had were twelve sided. The first time it slipped of a bolt he said nothing. The second time he said "See what I mean?" The third time he just looked up with a knowing half-smile. By the fourth time he'd had enough and uttered a solid "Got-damn!" The next time was the straw that obliterated the camel's back and he cut loose "goddamnshitcocksuckermotherfucker!" This represents maybe the first time that I found one of Dad's tirades more ridiculous and funny than terrifying.
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