Shakespeare Hates You!
My first-year college roommate, Tony Fuc*ing Rodgers*, was famous for his wide-ranging use of profanity. The versatility of the F-Bomb is well documented; it functions as an exclamation, a verb, a noun, and even a prefix or suffix. While it's not uncommon for people to use the word fuc*ing as an adjective, Tony had a singular talent with the word. One particular incident comes to mind.
In the early spring of 1993, Tony and I were studying in our dorm room. I took a study break, and returned munching on a chocolate bar. Tony was apoplectic when he saw what I was eating.
"Get the f-outta here! Take it F-ing out of here F-head!", shouted my volatile roommate.
Despite his prominent brow and intimidating physique, Tony is an intelligent, sensitive guy, and I knew not to take his words personally. I simply munched away in the hallway, tossed the wrapper in the trash, and came into the room a moment later.
"What was that about, Tony?", I queried.
"Yeah, sorry about that", Tony said. He set down his pencil on his desk and leaned back in his chair. "I guess I'm just a little high-strung right now, Steve. I've given up beer, sex and chocolate for lent".
Knowing how much Tony loved all three things (especially in concert with one another), I told him I was impressed by his willpower.
He smiled, and with a faraway, philosophical look on his face, replied:
"The way I see it, Jesus Fuc*in' died for me, man...I'm not gonna mess with him".
* Disclaimer: My Freshman roommate was not Tony Rodgers. His name was changed to Tony Rodgers for the sake of my amusing my friends who know the real Tony Fuc*ing Rodgers, who would never say anything of the sort.
I have no problems with profanity, when used sparingly. However, those who use it all the time display a certain lack of creativity--except for those who use it as a prefix or suffix in some unique obscenity. I also have no objections to the use of insults, if they're deserved.
I would happily insult my dear sweet mother if I could be guaranteed that the insult would live on in literature for the next 500 years. That's the way writers are: anything for immortality.
There is at least one writer whose insults have stood the test of time: The Bard himself. Shakespeare hates you, you rump fed runion!
If your insults and profanity are in a rut, I recommend visiting the Shakespeare Insult generator. Have fun, you cream-faced loon.
Get Your Random Shakespeare Insult Of The Day By Clicking Here:
http://www.webweaving.org/
On the righthand column on my other blog, The Shameless Antagonist, you can find out more about The Little Theatre's upcoming MacBeth production, and find a link to a MacBeth summary written and illustrated by a 4th grader.
Aroint thee, Rapscallion!
In the early spring of 1993, Tony and I were studying in our dorm room. I took a study break, and returned munching on a chocolate bar. Tony was apoplectic when he saw what I was eating.
"Get the f-outta here! Take it F-ing out of here F-head!", shouted my volatile roommate.
Despite his prominent brow and intimidating physique, Tony is an intelligent, sensitive guy, and I knew not to take his words personally. I simply munched away in the hallway, tossed the wrapper in the trash, and came into the room a moment later.
"What was that about, Tony?", I queried.
"Yeah, sorry about that", Tony said. He set down his pencil on his desk and leaned back in his chair. "I guess I'm just a little high-strung right now, Steve. I've given up beer, sex and chocolate for lent".
Knowing how much Tony loved all three things (especially in concert with one another), I told him I was impressed by his willpower.
He smiled, and with a faraway, philosophical look on his face, replied:
"The way I see it, Jesus Fuc*in' died for me, man...I'm not gonna mess with him".
* Disclaimer: My Freshman roommate was not Tony Rodgers. His name was changed to Tony Rodgers for the sake of my amusing my friends who know the real Tony Fuc*ing Rodgers, who would never say anything of the sort.
I have no problems with profanity, when used sparingly. However, those who use it all the time display a certain lack of creativity--except for those who use it as a prefix or suffix in some unique obscenity. I also have no objections to the use of insults, if they're deserved.
I would happily insult my dear sweet mother if I could be guaranteed that the insult would live on in literature for the next 500 years. That's the way writers are: anything for immortality.
There is at least one writer whose insults have stood the test of time: The Bard himself. Shakespeare hates you, you rump fed runion!
If your insults and profanity are in a rut, I recommend visiting the Shakespeare Insult generator. Have fun, you cream-faced loon.
Get Your Random Shakespeare Insult Of The Day By Clicking Here:
http://www.webweaving.org/
On the righthand column on my other blog, The Shameless Antagonist, you can find out more about The Little Theatre's upcoming MacBeth production, and find a link to a MacBeth summary written and illustrated by a 4th grader.
Aroint thee, Rapscallion!
