Registered: Jan 2001
Location:
Posts: 1163

The Insult

A good friend of mine recently required to be insulted with honour and eloquence, for crimes he perpetrated, or was yet to perpetrate.

I sent him the following:

...

Sir

As clouds are filled with rain, swollen to the point of bursting with pure aquatic goodness, that they may unleash their moisture upon the world and, in doing so, nourish the land to bring forth all manner of plants bearing succulent fruits upon which humanity may thrive, you are filled with ancient and foetid pus, bubbling and oozing with its own stagnant rottenness, its uncleanliness flowing within your veins, swelling your ripe buttocks and always at hand to be unleashed upon the innocent public as stained words, unlovingly mashed together into sentences which dwell outside the realms of ordinary human logic, pattering against the ears of mortals like so much angry camel's sputum, to stop up their minds and cause them true Arabic horror. These words flow from you against all good sense, causing ordinary mankind to cringe in abject disgust, and brings forth from them wails and gnashings upon which others feast, adding to their own tears.

Your camel's knees are covered in thick, penguin's pubic hair, sprouting from within the pockets of flesh at the back of your legs, dragging behind you like the anal beards of two, hideously unattractive carnival dwarves who, for a living, accept lumps of excrement to be forced up their noses before their blow them in high arcs towards their waiting husbands who themselves are fat egglike men with throbbing scrotal infections.

You are like the lice that live between the toes of mountain gorillas, or the pus-worms that burrow into the sagging breasts of Andian yaks, wherein they lay their eggs which are squeezed out as special Yak-Pus-Worm cheese and eaten by boneless Yak-women with neck-beards as they sing their mountain songs and rub coal into their pores to make themselves look better.

Your mother is your father, who rides your grandmother to the market before selling her to the lowest bidder. Your children's children, yet unborn, when they grow to the age of seven, will sprout hair from their eyes and will chew their own swollen tongues, which will lick uncontrollably at the wife you have chosen who, herself, will resemble so much earth scraped from between the paws of a mangy dog which spends most of the day licking its own balls.

Your sister is your father, whom your brother uses as a toilet covering to protect his acne ridden bottom from further infection in public places.

Your stubby fingers are like little arrogant men looking for employment without the benefit of proper university education, and working instead as street cleaners who, lacking brooms, must lick the pavement with their blackened tongues, until the filth and rubbish they are consuming infects their brains and they begin to enjoy the sensation of self-infection.

While you sleep in your tent, which itself is full of holes created by your eldest daughter picking her nose and then wiping the acidic remains upon the fabric, your sheep sexually abuse your camels by tying them to posts and slapping them with three week old haddock. Your camels are thin and you can see their ribs. Their humps are also swollen with pus.

I call you a son of a camel driver's daughter's lubricant, whilst your ears are too big for your uneven nostrils, such that one entire side of your body lacks oxygen and looks yellow. Your eyes are full of varicose veins and your pupils are like your fingers, fat and uneven.

You spend your day with your hand near your private parts, unable to touch them for they are swollen with oozing tripe which you eat off the shoulders of your girlfriend, who is also your dog and your cat, each evening before the sun sets.

You are the son of a thousand, thousand camel drivers' bastard imposter sons, each of whom have three mothers who dispute their births and fed them, whilst infants, upon stoat's milk laced with dissolved mud and boiled over the heat produced by smouldering human remains.

I spit your own saliva at you.

Ha!

Thus I end.

...

Do you have a favourite insult you wish to share?

edit: Hm. Didn't see Lunacy's thread.

[This message has been edited by Lightbulb (edited 08-16-2001).]

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Registered: Aug 2000
Location:
Posts: 3030

This could have gone in my thread.

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Smile, tomorrow will be worse.

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Registered: Jul 2000
Location: Erehwon
Posts: 7538

and hence he replied:

'You're one load your mother should have swallowed'

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