Author Robert Spiller discusses anything he darn well pleases: writing, Bonnie Pinkwater, math problems, and musings in general.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Shakespearean Insults - Chapter 4
This, dear friends, shall be the last compendium of Willie's barbs. I hope you've enjoyed them as much as I have.
His brain which is as dry as the remainder biscuit after a voyage.
You tread upon my patience.
You egg, you fry of treachery.
Thou foul lump of deformity.
Out of my sight, thou dost infect my eyes.
Thou poisonous bunch-backed toad.
Beg that thou may leave to hang thyself.
Vile worm, you were overlooked even in thy birth.
Drunkenness is his best virtue.
How foul and loathsome is thy image.
Were I like thee, I would throw away myself.
He has no so much brains as ear wax
I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.
And for our final insult something with a little more class
You ruinous butt!!
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