I know I'm only 40 pages into your book, but...
But what?
No, what is it?
Well, it's ridiculous! Who am I to make a criticism to someone like you?
It's alright, I can take it.
Well, it's brilliantly written, but, then, everything you write is brilliant.
Pretty rough something?
The swearing, Paul. There, I said it.
The, uh, profanity bothers you?
It has no nobility.
These are slum kids, I was a slum kid. Everybody talks like that.
THEY DO NOT! What do you think I say when I go to the feedstore in town, "Oh, now Wally, give me a bag of that F-in' pig feed, and ten pounds of that bitchly cow corn"? And at the bank, do I tell Mrs. Bollinger, "Oh, here's one big bastard of a check, give me some of your Christ-ing money?" [spills soup on Paul's bed] THERE, LOOK THERE, SEE WHAT YOU MADE ME DO! I'm sorry.
