Pretty b**thes like you

The story:

My boyfriend runs a weekly Industrial radio show on the local college station. I'm his unofficial cohost. I go fetch CDs, tell him when he's over-modulating, translate the German lyrics when he's bored and catch the obscenities he misses. He's been running this show for two years now and, being a huge fan of Combichrist, he plays this song at least once a month.rnrnA few weeks ago, I shouted, "Alex, hit the dump button!"rn"What?"rn"You can't say 'b**thes'; erase it. The station manager will throw a fit! Jesus, how many times have you played this song? We're going to have to rewrite the whole obscenity log!"rnrnHe laughed, showed me the real lyrics and continued with his show. Fortunately, he knows I'd never speak to him again if he embarrassed me on the radio, so he only made passing reference to it when it was time for the radio commentary.rnrnThis is made funnier because he is literally 1/5 of the obscenity log for the station already (of approximately 40 DJs), and adding in two years' worth of edits would put him closer to half of it.