I've seen the same awkwardness in my writing, and my friends’ when we try to either use swear words we aren't use to, create new swear words for a world, or just curse at all when we otherwise wouldn’t. For me, it's far more comfortable to write "What do you mean?" or "What the hell are you talking about?" than "What the fuck are you talking about?
To some audiences, "What the hell are you talking about?" would be shocking and inappropriate.
I'm pretty relaxed on the issue. In fiction, I'm only jarred out of the story if a character's language seems out of character. And that, in turn, just means the author's been inconsistent in establishing that character. I really don't care if there's swearing or not; I care about the world that's being described and the story that's being told. A word like "fuck" isn't any different from a word like "chair" to me -- it's just one glob of paint on a very large palette, and whether it appears on the canvas or not depends on what the artist is painting. In stories I've written, I've used profanity in some and not in others.
In non-fiction and in life, like most people, I adapt my speech to context. Most people have an instinct for context whether they think about it or not. E.g., I don't swear in the Escape Pod intros (well, not after the first one) because it doesn't seem appropriate. That's a semi-formal context and the audience has certain expectations -- and having shaped those expectations, I'm now pretty much bound by them. That's fine with me, because the things I
want to say in that context don't require it. I do swear when I'm doing
Podholes with Mennenga, because it's supposed to be a much more casual context and part of the conceit is that we're giving each other shit.
My talking patterns are different depending on who I'm with, what we're there for, etc. I think most people are like this. For a while in adolescence and early college I had a big Holden Caulfield thing about it and refused to use profanity, ever, but over time (and after a few weeks in Ireland) >8-> I realized it just wasn't important unless I
chose to make it important.
And right now, at age 32, I don't think much about it.
How a thing is said is only an aesthetic aspect of
what's being said. And being able to appreciate aesthetics in more forms, rather than fewer forms, seems like a Good Thing.