copyright © 2004 Matt Perry and Troy Iverson

An Intelligent Debate Between Friends

1: So we’re clear on the rules?

2: No repeating anything already said. Other than that, anything else goes.

1: Shall I start?

2: By all means, be my guest.

1: Dweeb.

2: Dork.

1: Moron.

2: Idiot.

1: Dick.

2: Fag.

1: Dyke.

2: Failure.

1: Twit.

2: Twat.

1: Prick.

2: Jerk.

1: Bitch.

2: Butthead.

1: Jackass.

2: Asshole.

1: Smart ass.

2: Dumb ass.

1: Kiss ass.

2: Fat ass.

1: Fuck ass.

2: Fuck-tard.

1: Fuck head.

2: Fuck wad.

1: Fuck ass.

2: Fuck up.

1: Fudge packer.

2: Pillow biter.

1: Stupid Jew.

2: (Stares in disbelief) Very well then, you fish mongering ass hat. You couldn’t find a girl to marry you in Arkansas. You couldn’t poke your eye out if I told you microscopic instructions were printed on the pointy end of a pair of scissors. You contribute nothing to society. You make me sick to think of you. You will fail in all aspects of life.

You're a prepubescent acne-riddled mouth breather, a walking manifestation of pathetic thoughts. You are a cowardly, belittling insect deserving nothing but the deepest hatred that can be stirred up by human emotions. Your life is a monument to worthlessness. I know pond scum that has more admirers than you.

You are a few scouts short of a Jamboree, a few terrible movies short of David Arquette’s career, a few plot holes short of a trashy romance novel, a few little boys short of the Neverland Ranch, a few chromosomes short of a full human, a few racist hicks short of a KKK convention, a few antisocial rejects short of a Marilyn Manson concert, a few dead bodies short of a necrophiliac orgy, and a few husband beatings short of a Liza Minelli/ David Gest wedding.

A bullet in your head would be an improvement upon your looks. You are ignorant of all that paves the way for intelligent conversation. You fear that cameras will steal your soul. Misery follows in your wake. You strip barnyard animals of their dignity.

You are a waste of the basic building blocks of life; an unkempt mass which deserves the most severe ridicule pronounceable by man. You are the aesthetic equivalent of a shaved cat. You are meaningless, completely void of positive traits. Your existence forces fundamentalists to question their faith. Your mother had to tie a pork chop around your neck just to get your dog to play with you. Professional wrestling is too deep for you. You are, in a word, a jerk.

On a good day, people are charmed by your attempts to fit in. You remind me of Gilligan. You are deficient in all that lends appeal. You have the personality of a vacuum and the sex drive of Diet Coke. Your mother is the reason I cry every time I go to the bathroom.

Phone sex operators hang up on you. Carrot Top wouldn’t laugh at you. Jeffery Dahmer passed on eating you. AIDS doesn’t want to infect you. Monkeys look down on you. Blow-up dolls won't have sex with you. Adolph Hitler would not waste gas on you. Mother Theresa would refuse to be your friend. Pro-choice activists would deny you a right to life.

No one cares about you, no has ever has, and they certainly never will. You are a half-witted ape shit and even the Good Samaritan would walk to the other side of the street upon seeing you in need. Your proudest accomplishment in life was graduating first in your class, which consisted of you, a chimp named Coco, and a man with 7 extra chromosomes. What you do not openly admit is the fact that Coco would have taken first in your class had she not used a number 3 pencil on a "number 2 pencil only" test.

You are a proletariat piss cup. The last time you got a piece of ass was when the toilet paper ripped. You think C-SPAN is what you do in the canned food aisle of the grocery store. You are still hard at work searching for the true meaning of the Sesame Street theme song.

In two words, you smell. In three words, you smell abominably. In as many words as I damn well please, you smell as if a morbidly obese man finished up with a public bathroom after a trip to a laxative-laced all-you-can-eat buffet. In a word I just made up for you: Fuckyfuckfuckerassfuckerbitch.

You possess no hints about how to live a constructive existence. If a hint about leading a meaningful life walked up to you, slapped you in the face, pulled your shirt over your head, bent you over and anally violated you with a Chevy, you would still not have a hint about doing anything worthwhile in your life.

In case you cannot understand me in English, then let me try it in Japanese; otaku watashi stupid tool. If that was still too deep for you, then let me try to tell this to you in Norwegian; ee schnernee schnernee jerk off.

You have a distinctive odor, your clothing slashes with the sense of fashion itself, your largest collection is that of your deficiencies, the "Milkshake" song provokes more thoughtful introspection than your arguments, and Charles Manson’s most pleasurable fantasy is the one in which he strangles you with your own intestines.

I would sooner contract AIDS via the simultaneous insertion of 1,000 napalm-tipped rectal thermometers than ever talk with you again. If I were to be shot in the kneecaps, bitten by a rabid dog, beaten by a gang of old women, accosted by a group of bikers, and then chained to their bikes and dragged willy-nilly through a patch of bramble bushes, I'd still consider that a better day than any I spent talking to you. The mere fact that you exist leads me to believe that suicide may well be my only option to escape from a reality where you were once granted life. You are puerile and puritanical. Your mother was a whore and your father gained a great deal of fame online for running the largest ring of child pornography ever assembled.

Your attempt at a decent insult was unabashedly shameful. Using a racial jab among a load of babbling is not an intriguing choice. You are so ugly, you made the Mona Lisa grimace. You crawled backwards for your first six months, and nobody noticed. Michael Jackson would have dropped you off the balcony. Toy Story refuses to play "You’ve Got a Friend in Me" while you’re around.

You are stupid, an ignoramus and a buffoon. You would be a village idiot if only you could find a village desperate enough to accept you. Your stupidity extends far beyond normal bounds, encompassing all in your surroundings. I feel deeply sorry for all those in attendance who have to be so horribly affected by hearing your imbecilic arguments. Even I feel as if I’m losing something precious to me just by standing next to your black hole of intelligence. No, it’s not even a black hole, because those suck. No, instead you possess a white hole of intelligence that blows intelligence away from the area of your immediate surroundings. I have become stupider just by being around you, and can no longer construct original insults. Fuck a duck.

In closing, you are also an avaricious, base, cock-sucking , delusional, effortless, futile, God-forsaken, hurtful, infantile, jingoistic, knee-jerking, low brow, menacing, neurotic, oppressive, pathetic, quaking, resentful, stuck-up, terrible, unimportant, vexing, wretched, xenophobic, yellowbellied zebra rapist.

1: You said jerk twice.

2: . . .Jerk.


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