Who givz a fok?

Your man there does. More than one! 
In the minute that it took me to lock my bicycle and helmet he had managed to pepper his telephone conversation with dozens of f*** (basically every third word was a f*****g f***) and 4 C words. 
Quite a performance. 
I very nearly interrupted his tirade to ask him if I could take his photograph. 
In the end I did. Take his photograph. Without asking, mind. I didn't muster the courage. Wasn't sure I'd master the lingo ("Hey, you big C, can I take your f****g photo?) 
There are limits to living dangerously. 
Throwing myself off the 40 Foot at low tide felt relatively safe by comparison.