Quotes / Flowery Insults

You're like the AT&T of people!
Troy Barnes to Britta Perry, Community

Boy, instruct this "new money" harlot that I don't speak to its kind unless I've someone whom I'm hoping to impress with my ability to train common street trash to sit up and use its opposable thumbs.
How dare you, Ollie! I swore to my brother on his deathbed that I would raise you to be a man and this is how I am repaid?
You bring this beast before me, wishing to cross your fine Pompey genes with this venereal error? Why don't you breed with a horse, boy? At least the mistakes from that union could be used for glue.
It's all fine and well to bed with a woman, if you must. Even the ancient Greeks understood the total imperfection of the female vessel had a use. And if that's the case, all you had to do was ask. I've a few bold inkwells even I dip my quill in now and again, and I've always said all I have is yours as well.
But no! Instead you troll the sewers for this common gutterslut, stinking of lower class sex and common labor and bring her before me? For approval?
Approval for what? Dear child, I could not approve of even using her rotted brains as fertilizer for fear of the stupidity that would be poisoned into the flowers and grass! No, I do not approve of this trollop!

"Minority leader, and septuagenarian ninja turtle, Mitch McConnell"

"Whaddaya think of that, Mr. Pajama Wearin' Basket Face Slipper Wieldin' Clype-Dreep-Bachle Gether-Uping-Blate-Maw, Bleathering Gomreil Jessie Oaf-Lookin' Scooner, Nyaff Plookie Shan Milk-Drinkin' Soy-Faced Shilpit, Mim-Moothed Snivelin' Worm-Eyed Hotten-Blaugh Vile-Stoochie Cally-Breek-Tattie?"
The Scotsman, Samurai Jack

Thousand Sons Rubric Marine: Master, was your visit to the Black Library successful?
Azekh Ahriman: No it wasn't, you useless rotten pile of disgraceful, warp-infested pubic hair!

Philip Banks: You know, Geoffrey, I do believe that of all the Holidays, Thanksgiving is my favorite. Oh, the yams, the cranberry sauce, the pie, and of course, that big ol' butterball (the turkey).
Geoffrey: Well, you are what you eat.
Philip Banks: Heh heh heh. That- Did you just call me a big ol' butterball?
Philip Banks: Ha ha ha. You know, Geoffrey, if you're gonna comment on my girth, you could at least put some thought into it.
Geoffrey: ...I beg your pardon, sir?
Philip Banks: Well I mean there are just so many more interesting ways to say it. I mean, you could be poetic: 'His thick, corpulent flesh rolls around his bones, like a thick chocolate pudding!'
Geoffrey grins nervously
Philip Banks: Or scientific! 'He is so huge, that food comes to him from the gravitational pull alone!' Aha, ha ha ha ha! Or, you could be quizzical! 'Is that your head, or is your neck blowing a bubble?'
Geoffrey is backing away from Philip and nearly trips over a chair
Philip Banks: You could be ribald, ironic, vaudevillian, whatever! But be creative! You got that?
Geoffrey: ...Anything you say, sir...