The closest my grandmother, Lottie, would come to cussing was to pronounce that "if a bullfrog had wings he wouldn't bump his butt so much." I don't think that she would have stooped so low except that she always knew it would get a laugh.
That wisdom seems to have provided me with pretty much all of my character.
Oh, I've cussed. You may have heard me cussing. I wish I hadn't. Does that count for anything? I'll probably be up for hours worrying about my intentions. Mostly they're pretty good. Mostly.