The prolific profusion of profanity presents a profound purgatory for any who pursue purity of phraseology. This is no puny peccadillo. Poverty of pensiveness is reaching pandemic proportions perpetuating pitiable practices of pondering. The resulting penury projects a pallor across the palette of polite people.
Paucity of propriety promotes the prosperity of pernicious progenitors of problematic products. While I can pardon the patchy presentation I am piqued by the persistent perpetration of pubescent parlance. This paradigm is perpetually pushed upon a populace prostate from the parade of phonetic pap.
Perhaps pressure properly presented can prevent prevailing patterns from proceeding. Alas, I predict a pariah's popularity is my probable prospect. Some will perceive me as paranoid or pessimistic, others a peevish parent when, in principle, I am pussycat. I am persuaded that I am not partnerless in this pursuit. Please provide me proof positive of this postulation.
Rather than protract this palaver I present my precious Papaw who perspicaciously proclaimed, "Profanity is simply a weak mind trying to express itself forcefully."
Preach on Papaw.