WTF

One of the few pleasures of working is the occasional conversation with a coworker that forever alters your thinking. It is rare, but I have had many such chin-wags at work that have been worthy of note. Not long ago, I actually spent a good half hour with one of my bosses explaining and expanding on the popular acronym, WTF. I explained that it was short for “What the fuck?” This seemed amusing to the guy, though he proposed WTF could stand for “Why the fuck?” I liked this. We then went on with other WTF possibilities, the best of which I will recount here.

Why to fuck? As in, why do I want to fuck? Possibly boredom, we decided, though more often a compelling reason is clear.

Where to fuck? A quandary for those far from home, and definitely of concern to young people still living with their parents.

Where the fuck? Oh, I ask myself this every day. Where the fuck did I leave my brain?

When to fuck? Indeed, this speaks to the question many of us ask ourselves. Is this the right time? Did I misread that signal?

Who the fuck? Better than Who to fuck, perhaps, though if that is your question maybe you are living a more interesting life than some of us, but still, who hasn’t wondered who the fuck is responsible for something?

Work to fuck. My favorite in many ways, as this sums up the reason why some of us clock in day after day at jobs we’d rather abandon. We work to make money to be able to spend on someone we wish to fuck. We work to maintain our fashions, cars, homes, and lifestyles, all so someone might find us attractive. (I sense a lot of homeless don’t get laid much.) So yes, work to fuck: that pretty much sums up 3/4s of the workforce as far as I can tell.

Wear to fuck. Less a statement on fashion and more an instruction that ought to accompany all condom purchases.

Worse than fuck. A bit abstract, and certainly relative, but still an interesting variation.

Will to fuck. I suppose many a long suffering spouse, lover, or otherwise charitable person has had to muster this.