F-Bomb

I think it is time we retired the term “F-Bomb” commonly used when describing the “F-Word” (Franks, as in Franks and Beans, oh, excuse me, “F-bombs” and beans).

“I just ate 17 F-bombs tonight and they all had mustard!”
“Man, I can’t believe there aren’t any F-bombs at this barbeque!”
“Who the Fuck put this F-bomb in the middle of my salad?”

I know you want to temper the impact of this explosive piece of vocabulary, but really it’s just a Hot Dog in the end. I think we can eliminate the “F-bomb” term and give “Frank” its rightful place back in the American dictionary of love and good times.

Don’t even get me started on the “N-word” (Night-sweats).