Insult Like A Chap

[battlefields]

So I'm bored, it's Friday afternoon and I recently say a Chap Hop video somewhere that amused me somewhat:


Then in another thread, Barenkuclee I believe, I found two Chap- like insults of which gleaned a grin:

Your mother is an irate whore and your father regrets your existence.

Your life is a lie, and your parents made you through permiscuous sex.

Considering the above, off the top of my head I came up with:

Your penis is of the miniature variety, you were born in a house of ill repute and raised by animals cloven hoofed.

Instead of shitting up the thread with further Chap-like Insults, I decided it was high time that we unleashed our inner Chaps and indulged in a little "Your Maternal progenitor".

[wikidbounce]

May your pipe never smoke, may your teapot be broke.

[cualltaigh]

some quick ones from the cybershpere:

A member of Parliament to Disraeli: “Sir, you will either die on the gallows or of some unspeakable disease.”
“That depends, Sir,” said Disraeli, “whether I embrace your policies or your mistress.”

• “He had delusions of adequacy.” – Walter Kerr

• “He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.” – Winston Churchill

• “I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.” Clarence Darrow

• “He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.” – William Faulkner (about Ernest Hemingway).

• “Thank you for sending me a copy of your book; I’ll waste no time reading it.” – Moses Hadas

• “I didn’t attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.” – Mark Twain

• “He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends.” – Oscar Wilde

• “I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend, if you have one.” – George Bernard Shaw to Winston Churchill

“Cannot possibly attend first night. Will attend second … if there is one.” - Winston Churchill, in response.

• “I feel so miserable without you; it’s almost like having you here.” – Stephen Bishop

• “He is a self-made man and worships his creator.” – John Bright

• “I’ve just learned about his illness. Let’s hope it’s nothing trivial.” – Irvin S. Cobb

• “He is not only dull himself; he is the cause of dullness in others.” – Samuel Johnson

• “He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up.” – Paul Keating

• “In order to avoid being called a flirt, she always yielded easily.” – Charles, Count Talleyrand

• “He loves nature in spite of what it did to him.” – Forrest Tucker

• “Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?” – Mark Twain

• “His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork.” – Mae West

• “Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go.” – Oscar Wilde

• “He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts… for support rather than illumination.” – Andrew Lang (1844-1912)

• “He has Van Gogh’s ear for music.” – Billy Wilder

• “I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening.But this wasn’t it.” – Groucho Marx

http://www.glossophilia.org/?p=423

[Ignorami]

"May all your conkers be one-ers"

[slamdunc]

http://www.glossophilia.org/?p=423

Bookmarked for future reference.

[Stickybomb]

[Soldiermedic]

Of course, the master of insulting like a chap was James "The Gentleman Masher" Corcoran.

To the next fighter against whom I spar, let me just say this: I'll put corn in his muffin! I'll crimson his face! I'll butter his bean and serve it to him cold I will! Then I'll deliver a blow to the mouth area, the blood from which will issue most copiously!

Believe you me, I find this son of Africa quite affable. But, still he must get a proper trashing. I plan to crimson his face with a series of dapper lefts, then bring issue to rest a powerful blow, upon his dark and mysterious brow. For as we all know, the muscular African is no match for the lanky, smooth-talking Irishman, and history will prove me correct!

[Mr. Machette]

Forsooth! I do declare that Battlefields (The Fiend Intemperant), is on to quite the superlative idea if I do say so myself.

For has it not been said that this assembly, in it's entirety be made up of shiftless rabble, foul sodomites, and lifelong trustees of the god Dionysus?

To you, foul dregs of Bullshido, I do implore that you know yourselves carnally. That is to say, "have intercourse in a biblical sense, with your own foul visage, most vigorously".


Also...

[Permalost]

From an old EJMAS article:Gouge and Bite, Pull Hair and Scratch: The Social Significance of Fighting in the Southern Backcountry


http://ejmas.com/jmanly/articles/200..._gorn_0401.htm

The lore of backwoods combat, however, both inflated and deflated egos. By the early nineteenth century, simple epithets evolved into verbal duels - rituals well known to folklorists. Backcountry men took turns bragging about their prowess, possessions, and accomplishments, spurring each other on to new heights of self-magnification. [EN34] Such exchanges heightened tension and engendered a sense of theatricality and display. But boasting, unlike insults, did not always lead to combat, for, in a culture that valued oral skills, the verbal battle itself - the contest over who best controlled the power of words - was a real quest for domination:

"I am a man; I am a horse; I am a team. I can whip any man in all Kentucky, by G-d!" The other replied, "I am an alligator, half man, half horse; can whip any man on the Mississippi, by G-d!" The first one again, "I am a man; have the best horse, best dog, best gun and handsomest wife in all Kentucky, by G-d." The other, "I am a Mississippi snapping turtle: have bear's claws, alligator's teeth, and the devil's tail; can whip any man, by G-d."

[EN35] Such elaborate boasts were not composed on the spot. Folklorists point out that free-phrase verbal forms, from Homeric epics to contemporary blues, are created through an oral formulaic process. The singer of epics, for example, does not memorize thousands of lines but knows the underlying skeleton of his narrative and, as he sings, fleshes it out with old commonplaces and new turns of phrase. In this way, oral formulaic composition merges cultural continuity with individual creativity. A similar but simplified version of the same process was at work in backwoods bragging. [EN36]

A quarter-century after the above exchange made its way into print, several of the same phrases still circulated orally and were worked into new patterns. "'By Gaud, stranger,' said he, -do you know me? - do you know what stuff I'm made of? Clear steamboat, sea horse, alligator - run agin me, run agin a snag - jam up - whoop! Got the prettiest sister, and biggest whiskers of any man hereabouts - I can lick my weight in wild cats, or any man in all Kentuck!'" [EN37]


Style and details changed, but the themes remained the same: comparing oneself to wild animals, boasting of possessions and accomplishments, asserting domination over others. Mike Fink, legendary keelboatman, champion gouger, and fearless hunter, put his own mark on the old form and elevated it to art:
"I'm a salt River roarer! I'm a ring tailed squealer! I'm a regular screamer from the old Massassip! Whoop! I'm the very infant that refused his milk before its eyes were open and called out for a bottle of old Rye! I love the women and I'm chockful o' fight! I'm half wild horse and half cock-eyed alligator and the rest o' me is crooked snags an' red-hot snappin' turtle'. I can out-run, out-jump, out shout, out-brag, out-drink, an' out-fight, rough-an'-tumble, no holts barred, any man on both sides the river from Pittsburgh to New Orleans an' back ag'in to St. Louiee. Come on, you flatters, you bargers, you milk white mechanics, an' see how tough I am to chaw! I ain't had a fight for two days an' I'm spilein' for exercise. Cock-a-doodle-doo!

Its a pretty interesting article to say the least. Also, kinda reminded me of the Dr Octagon song Halfsharkalligatorhalfman

[W. Rabbit]

So I'm bored, it's Friday afternoon and I recently say a Chap Hop video somewhere that amused me somewhat:

Never test professors with the cleverest wits
Let's settle this like gentlemen
armed with heavy sticks
on a rotating plate
with spikes like Flash Gordon
and you're Peter Duncan
I gave you fair warning.

LOL...Peter Duncan.