Not So Much Brain As Ear Wax At The Ranch Pen

Shakespearean insults and tea, anyone?

Shakespearean insults and tea, anyone?

As a tea drinker, I am all about just-right mugs, so imagine my delight when my nice sister-in-law gave me an amazon card for Christmas to spend in any way I pleased. I, of course, immediately purchased this Shakespearean insults mug, which allows me to chortle as I sip tea and plan ways to insert some of these beauties into casual conversations, arguments, letters to the president and congress, and my books.

At any rate, since my “mountain of mad flesh” is under the weather this week and I am “not so much brain as ear wax” I’ll just share these twenty-eight zingers. They’re all priceless, but my favorites are in bold.

 

  • Mountain of mad flesh
  • Light of brain
  • Bolting-hutch of beastliness
  • Not so much brain as ear wax
  • long-tongu’d babbling gossip
  • Thou art a boil, a plague sore
  • Veriest varlet that ever chewed with a tooth
  • I do desire we may be better strangers
  • You Rampallian! You Fustilarian!
  • Lump of foul deformity
  • Highly fed and lowly taught
  • All eyes and no sight
  • All the infections that the sun sucks up
  • Elvish-mark’d abortive, rooting hog
  • Foot-licker
  • Infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker
  • O gull, O dolt, as ignorant as dirt
  • Clod of wayward marl
  • False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand
  • Roast-meat for worms
  • Anointed sovereign of sighs and groans
  • Lewdly inclin’d
  • The soul of this man is his clothes
  • Quintessence of dust
  • Canker-blossom
  • Poisonous bunch-back’d toad
  • A fusty nut with no kernel
  • Beetle-headed, flap-eared knave

Isn’t that last one great?  I shall try it on Gramps someday.  “Why hast thou tracked through the cow pen and onto my clean floor again, thou beetle-headed, flap-eared knave?” I shall screech. Ha. We’ll see what he has to say to that.

If you have a favorite, go ahead and post it in the comments. Until next time, God bless all y’all and lest I get too carried away flinging around my Shakespearean insults, maybe I’d better end with this Phillips, Craig, and Dean song, Let My Words Be Few.