Grandma: [concerned voice] What? What is it? Are you sick?
BFF: No, no. Grandma. I'm gay.
BFF: I'm gay Grandma. I have a girlfriend now.
Grandma: [relieved voice] Oh honey, is that all? I thought you had cancer. Anytime someone needs to tell me something they are sick. Who's your girlfriend, when is her birthday? I'll bake her a pie.
Look, if you nicely tell me that swearing makes you uncomfortable and you politely ask me not to, I will stop immediately and speak nicer than a nun.
But if you start acting like you’re on some fucking high horse, or telling me that I’m going to Hell for talking the way that I do and you can’t “be around that kind of language” then you can bet your motherfuckin’ ass that I’ll be fucking cussing like a cunt-fuckin’ sailor you maggot-ridden piece of dick.