He's not obsessed, but Sting does seem to have a certain affinity for the word....
From Rolling Stone 1993:
Of course, when you're Sting, you're used to taking your share of crap. And being Sting, you trudge through it. "I saw Denis Leary deconstruct me on television last night. He said, 'Sting singing about saving the fucking rain forest – he should save his fucking hair.' " He stops and lets out an enormous laugh. "I want to meet Denis Leary in about ten years," he says, still laughing. " 'Hey, Denis, how's it feel, ya bald c*nt?' "
From Revolver 2000:
Andy Summers: You want to hear an oxymoron? Musical drummer!
Stewart Copeland: Hey Andy. What do you throw at a drowning guitarist? His amp!
Sting: What was three legs and a c*nt? A drum stool!
Revolver: Sting, what's the difference between Jungian synchronicity and a Freudian slip?
Sting: Okay, this guy gets on a train to Pittsburgh. The ticket agent has big tits, and he blurts out, 'Give me two pickets to Tittsburgh, please'. She gets really mad at him, he's really embarrassed, and says, 'I'm so sorry!' Later he tells his friend, 'God I made a terrible Freudian slip this morning,' and tells him the story. His friend says, 'That's not a Freudian slip! I had a real Freudian slip last night. It was our anniversary, and I was having dinner with my wife. I meant to say, 'Happy anniversary, darling.' And instead I said, 'You f*ckin' c*nt, you ruined my life!' Now that's a Freudian slip.'