Rush Hour Skirmish

Some of those out there among us need to hear this. Consider it a public service announcement (you’re welcome). Turn signals are your friend. I know it might seem like it at times, but letting the rest of us know where you’re going and what you’re doing while putting on your breaks suddenly (for no apparent reason because, you know, turn signals) in a 65 mph zone is not sharing your plan of attack with the other side.

Oh, I can understand not wanting to fraternize with the enemy during rush hour traffic but think of this as more like an organized retreat with all sides taking part. We just want to get home. Just like you. We’d like to arrive home not in your backseat – our inevitable place in the world as you come to an almost complete stop while unexpectedly veering to the right towards that off-ramp, because again, you know, turn signals. I mean, that would be silly wouldn’t it? Because then, we’d be at your home, not our home. And where’s the fun in that? You don’t have my comfy jammies or my fluffy pillow or my favorite ice cream.

So, please. I’m begging you. Repeat after me. Turn. Signals. Are. Your. Friends.

How do I insult thee? Let me count the ways.

The older we get the less we understand the slang that these young kids use nowadays. Or, wait, is that just me? Hey, I’ll admit… I’m just not picking up what these young cats are laying down these days, you dig? What exactly is a “yeet” anyway?  It sounds like the newborn offspring of a species of goat that only lives in the mountainous regions somewhere deep in the Andean Mountains. The insults we grew up with were more scathing. There was nothing more insulting than walking down the street and hearing someone yell out, “hey, nerd!” Brutal, I know.

To be truly creative, though, we need to go back a bit further. We need to take it back to a point in history where insults were truly scornful, and yes, inspiring. I’m talking Shakespeare. Now, Shakespeare knew how to curse, but he also knew how to throw insults with the best of them. Oh, who am I kidding, he WAS the best of them. I mean, the man made up new words when those readily at hand would not do, for Pete’s sake.

So, without further ado, here are my favorite Shakespearean insults, in no particular order. Trust me, folks, we need to bring these gems back into circulation.

Thou art as fat as butter. (Henry IV)

If you really want to get your point across to someone, you need to compare them to something with high fat content and not something fat by default like the world or their mother.

More of your conversation would infect my brain. (Coriolanus)

Why settle for calling someone stupid when you can go one better and describe exactly how their words are affecting you? Instead of saying, I’m all the more stupid for having heard this… try telling them that their word salad is literally infecting your brain. It would devalue their argument so much that they’ll have no choice but to submit to your Shakespearean wit. You could tell them that your insult was from Shakespeare, but they probably don’t even know who J.K. Rowling is, let alone Shakespeare.

I’ll beat thee, but I would infect my hands. (Timon of Athens)

We’ve all met those annoying people we would love to whack over the head if it would get them to stop blathering. Continuing Shakespeare’s odd fascination with infections, you can tell these folks that they are simply too loathsome for the figurative (of course, figurative) beating they so rightly deserve. Despite their seemingly good health, merely touching them would put you in a state of near death due to their gangrenous personality. I know, right!?  Awesome insult!

I am sick when I do look on thee (Midsummer Night’s Dream)

I’m starting to think Shakespeare had a thing with the bubonic plague. Apparently, you could infect him with sound, touch, and now… simply looking at someone makes him sick. But hey, he does have a way with words.  This would be the final topping on the cake for someone with a lovely outer skin but an ugly disposition. Bonus points if you mix this with the phrase about butter.

You Banbury cheese! (Merry Wives of Windsor)

Not a lot of people will know that this insult was originally meant for skinny people. You see, Banbury cheese was very thin. Stupidly thin. And back in Shakespeare’s time it was more prominent to be plump, so calling someone skinny was just plain insulting. However, nowadays this insult goes beyond looks, as every good insult should do.  Cheese is smelly, cheese can be ridiculously obnoxious, cheese can look lovely on the outside and be rancid on the inside, cheese can make you want to vomit. Just take your pick. Viewing it a different way, cheese is supposed to be thick and rich and decadent, so the fact that Banbury cheese is ludicrously thin with more rind than actual cheese is rather stupid. Hence the person you’re calling a Banbury cheese is a stupid-head (of cheese). Plus, I just like the way it sounds.

You whoreson cullionly barber-monger! (King Lear)

I’m not exactly sure where Shakespeare was going with this one as it’s contained in a scene where people were throwing words all over the place. However, I assure you that using this is the equivalent of firing a bullet from your mouth and it would absolutely destroy whoever it is aimed at. Just walk into your local dive-bar and use this phrase at random, then watch everyone freeze, impressed with your mighty wit.

Away, you three-inch fool! (The Taming Of The Shrew)

Thinking back on my English Lit days, I believe that Shakespeare used this as an insult to someone’s height, but let’s be real about using it today, you’re going to insult another area of someone’s life that they really, really care about when it comes to length. Instead of directly insulting some guy’s junk with a “why, you have a small wiener sir,” drive home the point by dropping this line that gives a very specific length. I can’t think of a better response to those crude ‘negging’ pick-up lines too many of us women endure every time we go out.

So, there you have it. Some grade-A, well-honed – if not contemporary – put-downs for your insult arsenal. One for every day of the week. Now, get out there and make me proud!

Not so New, but Slightly Improved

I’m back, bitches!  Lucky you… and quite frankly, lucky me. Okay, so I’m not quite as perky as the model in the RC Cola ad, but I’m as close as I’ll ever be. Which, if I’m being honest, means I’m in my jammies, with cookies and milk in hand, and Harvey about to start on the t.v.  So yeah, I’m good!  Happy Saturday!

When soda was to be had at my grandparent’s house, it was RC Cola and Dr. Pepper, and sometimes Mountain Dew. All three are still around of course, but seeing this and other images during my google search this evening got me wandering down memory lane. More on that later.

Stuck in the Middle With You

They say a dog is man’s best friend, and I believe this to be true … in a man equals humankind sort of a way. I know for a fact that Rufus is my best friend and I sometimes feel guilty that he can’t come along when my human friends and I get together for a night out. As much as I care about my friends, Rufus runs circles around them – quite literally, as well as figuratively.

I mean, honestly, there’s just no comparison. Among all his other attributes — of which there are many, he’s quick to show his love. For instance, when I come home from being at work or out with the aforementioned friends, Rufus simply cannot contain his excitement and he pees a little… it’s not on purpose; it’s just because he’s so incredibly happy to see me. None of my other so-called friends do that. What the hell, people? You call yourselves my friends. I’m surrounded by fakers.

my rufus

Cats Rule, People Drool

Thousands of years ago, humans worshiped cats as Gods. They were carved into the sides of buildings, crafted in giant sculptures, and were even mummified. Much like the ancient Egyptians, modern humans forever enshrine their cats on social media videos for thousands of people to watch and enjoy around the world. Although, studies have shown that if domestic house cats were even a little bigger, they would kill you if they had the chance. Since cats are choosing not to murder us on a daily basis, I think we need to show them how much we really care. You know, as servants who are afraid of being killed in our sleep should do.

Cardboard Offerings

This one is a given. I mean, cats of all sizes – even wild cats, love a good box. Online shopping has made it easy for us to order cardboard boxes straight to our houses. I order stuff I don’t need just to have the box. After all, your cats don’t care what you’re ordering. They just want the box. It could even be a cat tree or scratching post… do they care? Nope. It’s the box they’re after. The minute you take the product out of the box, it is no longer yours. Kiss that box goodbye. A good cat servant has a cardboard box in every room so the cat always has a place to lie in wait for their next target (you… it’s you, you’re the target).

A View to a Kill

Cats love to be up high. Refrigerators, cabinets, bookshelves, dressers. They like to loiter in high places because they are natural predators. As hunters, they want to get the jump on anyone and everything, so they call dibs on all the high places in every room of the house. The problem with new cat owners servants is they think they should be allowed to put knick-knacks and other items in the very places that cats have called dibs.  I mean, really. What are they thinking? That they own the place or something?  Sheesh. Cats will just knock down whatever is in their way and use the place for a perching location. And look at their servant with disdain while doing so. The very idea of cluttering up my space with a 100-year-old depression glass basket. Well. I showed them the error of their ways. After they clean that up, they better get me some treats.  The thing is, you can either be proactive and install shelves up high, just for the cats to reenact their favorite scenes from The Lion King, or you can kiss your valuables goodbye.  You know what? Never mind. While I do suggest creating a play area accessible only to your cat, it won’t matter… they’ll still knock your stuff down. But at least they’ll have a place from which to look down and mock you as you get out the broom and dustpan. Again.

Preserved for Posterity

What better way to show your cat how important they are than recording everything they do? It’s also important to get plenty of evidence in case you do something wrong, so your cat is justified in their decision to pounce you one day and end your whole existence.

A Worthy Throne

Whether they like to admit it or not, cats do like to be near their person. If for no other reason, than to keep tabs on them (after all, you may decide to dig into the cat treats). Placing a shoebox near your workspace for your cat to sit in is a thoughtful gesture… and one that I’m sure the cat will appreciate as they lounge atop their true throne – aka your $5,000 printer – judging you.

Gifts to the Gods

Cats appreciate a servant that does their research… and homework. By sitting in front of our computer screens for hours on end, trying to figure out the 500 steps involved in creating the perfect DIY scratchers with catnip cubbyholes we plan to put in every room, we’re really just showing how much we care for our feline masters. We’re proving to them that we’re willing to go that extra mile. Of course, they’ll steadfastly eschew said DIY scratchers, regardless of how much sweat and blood (literally) we put into them, preferring instead to assert their reign by adding their loving touch to our furniture.

the queen at rest

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a cat person. I love cats, always have. But I understand they’re on a higher plane than the rest of us. Unlike dogs, cats do what they want. If they come when we call or go along with performing our silly little tricks, it’s only because they’re placating us … to give us a sense of value and significance.  In so doing, they assert control over us, not the other way around.

Have you ever taught a cat a trick and then tried to show off that trick in front of people only to be met with a look of bewilderment from your feline performer? You want me to do what?  You must be joking. What do you do? Of course. Give more treats in a desperate attempt to prove to your audience that the cat can, in fact, do said trick. This cycle continues, sometimes for weeks, sometimes for months, until the little fur-covered jerk cat becomes bored with their own game and refuses to do the trick even when you’re alone.

Yet you will continue plying the fickle feline with treats and praise and attention. And do you know why that is?  Because you’re the servant anxious to please your master. They’ve trained you well.  I mean, hey, I get it. I’m not judging. I have two of my own, and trust me, I spend my days making sure they are happy enough to not kill me in my sleep.

Some cats are cute, making us go awwww… some cats are beautiful and make us go… oooooo. Just never forget, they’re large and in charge and we are but humble domestics in their household.