This is what I would say if I had the floor at a Jacques Chirac press conference.
[Drink Alert is in effect for the remainer of this post.]
JACQUES CHIRAC IS A TROLL AND MUST DIE!
Thou hast forsaken me! Mine hatred of thee is pure and all-consuming. Now thou shalt taste the wrath of a Viking unavenged!
Hither and yon, thine creamy center will squish with greater glee than a pair of over-cooked rice balls! Lo, the overly-shiney Tricycle of Death comes to cart thy soul to the Monkey House! I shalt smite thine grandmother's stockings with more force than a polyp-bottomed Hungarian goat-herd on Tuesday! Behold, mine Fists of Justice greet thy face with a dozen roses and an unceremonious root canal! I will pelt thee with little packets of unpronounceable imported cheese! I shall flatten thee until thou can be used to store mine stock portfolio. I shall frappe thine entrails and paint thee tombstone with glitter! I shall force thee to wear thine dog's ass for a feedbag. Ye just wait til mine fuzzy rubber chicken gets through with thee! Odin calls upon Loyal Citizens to rise up and wield your mightiest weapons of destruction against this evil pretender!
[By this time, I'm really pissed off. I really let him have it. I give him The Ultimate Insult]
You were a crack baby, severely retarded, hardly a looker. You are a borderline cretin, a socially maladjusted parasite, an ill-mannered, undereducated piece of white trash maggot-infested butt-fucking bed-wetting asshat. You are a howling, drunken, fat slob dancing about. You are one huge, corrupt, incestuous orgy of mutual masturbatory orgies. You syphilitic sow. You should be driven into a building, then blown up and buried under 50 ft. Of dirt, covered with pig shit. You shit sucking prick. May you choke on the diseased dicks you slurp. You have an IQ slightly above that of room-temperature butter which makes trying to hold a decent argument like kicking a cripple. You Motherfucking cowardly cocksucking troll - I hope you fucking die, no, better yet, I hope you go to jail and get gang-fucked up the ass! You despicable, depraved, amoral slug. Your asshole must resemble a wind sock. Anybody can bitch and moan but few really have the answers so go ahead and shove that gerbil up your Hilter kissing buttfucking skinhead licking sheepfucking small impaired desperatly seeking real contact grasping stupid ass! You come and suck my big hairy nuts. You syphlitic neutered weiner-doggy with worms. You sperm-guzzling turd burglar. You have the creative abilities of a bucket of okra. Don't you have a razor blade that you can drag along your wrist and end your pathetic existence? And have the decency to do it in a bathtub so your mother doesn't have to mop up the floor. You are neurally-deficient, morally challenged colon polyp. You are like some cheesy advertizement jingle you can't get out of your head. Ack! You are like watching old ladies at the casino, working the slot machines for the big score but instead of using up their quarters, they're using up their credibility. You are lots of burps and fart noises, signifying nothing. There's a special place in hell for ogres like you. I hope you get hit by a fucking train. You are like a spoiled teenager begging for attention. You are very boring, whiny and utterly unfunny. Strange that you hasn't blown his bitter little brains out by now, given your decidedly limited and amoral worldview. You certainly are a dry and constipated little impacted turd. You'd be better accepted if you actually made some points other than the usual asshat propaganda. To make you feel better, maybe we can dub thee Sir Shit for Brains or the Earl of Asshats. You are the poster boy for corporal punishment, not to mention retro-active abortionjust a random shit-sucker. You are a seething, sniveling, miserable, envious, pissy, bratty troll-cunt. You anonymous cowardly bastard. You are slightly more dangerous than a canary on crack. The only danger you pose now is sucking all the oxygen out of the universe every time you open your mouth. You dumb-fuck son-of-a-bitch. You felching little fucknozzle. Go climb back under your rock, assmunch. You're not only stupid, you're annoying - like some cheesy advertizement jingle you can't get out of your head. You should be tied up in a burlap sack and thrown off a cliff. You malodorous canker, you suppurating pustule on the atrophied anus of a crackskank, you slimy, malign, mucousoid vector of some unspeakable veneral disease! You pasty-faced little maggot. You are yet another clump of feces thrown against the wall. You totalitarian lickspittle. You pickled camel nards. You impress me less than the contents of my 'kerchief after i've blown my nose. You are a drowning man, with a failed ideology, clutching at strawmen. You fucking partisan piece of shit. Until you have proof, shut your fucking commie ass up! Keep spouting the distortions and spin as truth and you might earn an official Karl Rove proof tinfoil hat autographed by the great Noam Chomsky for your efforts. You are a guise of pompous, sanctimonious arrogance. You are obtuse and throw a tantrum when you have been exposed. You are a base, vile, useless sack of protoplasm. You are beneath contempt. Your hideous nature seeps from your pores. You are black hole stupidity - the kind of stupidity that sucks any intelligence out of the region in which it exists. You're a twit, a turd and an utterly insignificant little insect. Come out from behind your mommy's skirt and i'll be happy to show you how wrong Ghandi was, you cowardly prick. You nadless, Idiotarian, functionally illiterate poster boy for retroactive abortion. Please stop leaving ass-lube puddles all over the place. Oh, and please use disposable enemas, you know Grandma hates it when you use hers. And stop stealing her panties, for crying out loud! You smarmy lagerlout git. You bloody woofter sod. You grotty wanking oik. You clouted boggish foot-licking twit. You churlish boil-brained clotpole ponce. You gormless crook-pated tosser. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup patting naff. You gob kissing gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted fobbing beef-witted clapper-clawed flirt-gill. You don't have the moral credibility to be lecturing us, pissweasel. I'm not a fascist, punk-ass, but the closing of your methane-spewing mouth can be arranged. I think your pimp called, he wants you to keep working on your Tennis Ball Trick and to go pick up your new styrofoam boobs. Sod off you yeast infected arse wart. Fuckin ponce. You are a kind of crawly vermin that hide in curly butt hairs, fighting over the assraisins. You are the very essence of suckitude. Your name is engraved in the Eternal Buttboy for Kooks Hall of Fame. You are the sorriest, most piss-poor excuse for a poster that ever figured out the QWERTY layout. They are going to love you in prison. They already got dibs on who gets your pasty little arse first. Four words, babe, four words: PICK. UP. THAT. SOAP. Your moma's real ones are but gruesome, sagging, sock-like man-boobs, attached to a pasty, sunken chest. Great Laughing-Buddha-On-A-Popsicle-Stick that is you are one fucking ugly bitch. We are offering to make a skullcap from his scrotum! Are you still eating cardboard? Did it occur to you that your plan may be that you cause everyone but himself to fall out their chair in a drunken stupor, leaving him free to babble on with no coherent counter battery to worry about? You poor deluded truebeliever Tranzi reactionary, parroting leftwingidiologue deceit. You should stop being so insulting and mean, you stupid pigheaded foul-smelling jerk! You illiterate retarded math-imparied lice-ridden drug-addled liberal-arts-degree-toting goat-fucking shit-eating lackwitted fuckhead. Go sit in your round room and jack off in the corner. The swineherds have yet again forgotten to lock up the pens, thus letting out the swine and allowing it to roam freely and to enter your Palace. You are an old sow with two suckling piglets, trolling your unspeakable filth throughout this particular part of the Imperial Domain, leaving piles of droppings and horrifying stench. Since this is not the first time it has happened I request permission to place the swineherds under arrest and subject them to brutal interrogation and proper punishment. You deserve no place in this world. You are wasting our air. Please, please, please, call a gang member a name. Fall in the ocean. Have an unfortunate run-in with a manatee. Choke on an orange. Terminal sunburn. Just, whatever you do, please insure that your quite obviously defective genes do not accidentally get passed on to future generations. In short - you are a nitwit and a toad. Die already. Please?
[I'm just getting warmed up - I'm frothing at the mouth mad. I gulp down two of my famous Ultimate Martinis, and continue this troll-bashing]
You have the brain of a microcephalic lemur, transplanted into the rotting carcass of a common swine. You roll around in the puke of dogs, masturbating furiously. You emerge from your nest of flattened milk cartons each morning to toil until sundown emptying portable toilets. Like the shared bathroom of a dormitory, everyone urinates in this equal opportunity toilet. You are considered a cheap alternative to expensive crash test dummies. You are rewarded for years of faithful service with his very own bag of shiny things to play with, and a computer. Incoherent and sloppy, you waver in and out of consciousness while composing your responses. Skittish and awkward like a colt on coke, this autistic child prostitute hides behind the sympathy generated by the gastrointestinal disease that bears his name. You are characterized by the projectile expulsion of a curdlike, smelly discharge, forcing you to leave the keyboard every ten minutes for an enema. You are widely disliked, but never with any real intensity since you are so easily ignored. You are neither interesting nor noteworthy, an ongoing impression of tepid tapwater adopting whatever pose you feel would be most likely to appease your attackers so that you can meekly return to ignominy. You are irrational and weak-willed. This Flighty Balloo can write about little more than his unnatural obsession with oddly colored body fluids. A twenty year circus career as Willie the Shaved Monkey Boy made you especially vulnerable to narrative flame that references midgets, bananas and/or chloroform. You are a walking affront to the written word. Your sole saving grace is that You'll allow a 10% discount if you rent out his boyfriend to be passed around by the others when no other entertainment presents itself. In an attempt to make him seem more realistic, his puppeteer recently retrofitted him with some hints of personality. Still, judging by his range of expression you'd swear that the hand up his ass is Senor Wences. You are a tattooed truck driver with the manners and sophistication to go along with the look. You spend all of your time arguing that the past tense of 'blind' is 'blound.' You are as delicate and fragile as a snowflake, and about as tolerant of heat. After figuring out how to set up the presets in your car radio, you proclaimed yourself the best engineer in North Carolina and is probably correct. You are a small fish in a small pond. You have a momentary spasm of creativity once each month, about five days into your twelve-day period. Other than that, you are just bitching weakly about the hubbie and the dirty kitchen and the ten starving filthy children and the plugged up loo. You are easily filtered background noise. You are about as entertaining as a child's inflatable punching toy. You bop it, it springs back, you bop it again and you forget it ever existed. It slowly deflates in an unused corner, then one day you throw it away. Rumor has it you are almost incomprehensible in person (owing to your heavily accented and alchohol-slurred speech) and this combined with your being dirt poor and ugly makes you very uncomfortable with human interaction of any kind. You have therefore moved yourself far from the mainstream of human society, thereby earning its eternal gratitude.
[This is fun! I need a drink of The Ultimate Bloody Mary before I continue.]
It's Clobbering Time! I'm going to bruise you so utterly, you will drink poison and piss honey! I'm seriously going to contort you until your mom feels it in her womb! I'm going to clobber you into the stuff of nightmares! I'm going to flog you until the sun burns out! May your balls be conflagrated and defenstrated! I'm going to peel you apart like an overripe banana! Call me Pimp-Daddy, cause I'm gonna beat you like a bitch on payday. I'm going to strangle you with your own intestines. I'm going to touch myself, and by the Sock you're going to watch me! I'm going to sodomize you with an empty bottle of Jack lubed with Tabasco and Ben-Gay. I will flatten you until you can be used to store my stock portfolio. I will make animals out of your toenail clippings and train them to attack your chewy centers. I will rip you apart and funnel Trading Spaces designers directly into your nostrels. I'm gonna kick your ass and eat ALLLLL your grandma's Birthday cake. STABBY, STABBY, STABBY! MWAHAHAHA! I'm gonna castrate you with a dull, rusty, spoon! I'm going to punch you in such an inhumane manner, you will drink poison and piss honey! I will force you to wear your dog's ass for a feedbag. I shall frappe your entrails and paint your tombstone with glitter! RuPaul is a woman, tweak my nipples and remove my left eye if I'm wrong! Eat Yanni balls, you spineless bipedal orangutan turd!
[Actually, this is starting to wear me out a little bit. Better have The Ultimate Margarita before I blast him some more.]
I'm going to go Martha Stewart on your blasphemous ass! Have you ever been flayed by a spork? Prepare for your untimely demise, foolish mortal! I'll gauge out your eyes with a sodering iron and fuck your skull until you bleed to death. I'm gonna whip your ass til' your atoms split!. You just wait til my fuzzy rubber chicken gets through with you. If I weren't so hungry right now, you'd be SO beaten up! I'll train my gnomes to mash you up and turn you into honey! My hatred of you in pure and all-consuming. With God as my witness, I shan't be de-pants-ed again! I will strap you to a Canadian pony and rain on your parade! Under MY Constitution, your ass is GRASS! I'm going to strike a match on your crotch, and set you ablaze! Infidel! I unleash upon you seventeen rabid squirrels. May they eat you very, very slowly and with horrid table manners! Mua ha ha! You have insulted me. Please put down that table lamp and stand still so that I may pelt you with little packets of unpronounceable imported cheese! Shut your mouth, fucktard! Or I will lock you in a room I have specially prepared for you in my basement that is filled with goats that are extraordinarily gassy because I have fed them large buckets of pinto beans!
[Running out of breath and invective, I finish him off]
You are weary, stale, flat and unprofitable. You are grimy squalid, nasty and profane. You are foul and disgusting. You're a fool, an ignoramus. Monkeys look down the evolutionary chain at you. Even sheep won't have sex with you. You are unreservedly pathetic, starved for attention, and lost in a land that reality forgot. And what meaning do you expect your delusional self-important statements of unknowing, inexperienced opinion to have with us? What fantasy do you hold that you would believe that your tiny fisted tantrums would have more weight than that of a leprous desert rat, spinning rabidly in a circle, waiting for the bite of the snake? You are a waste of flesh. You have no rhythm. You are ridiculous and obnoxious. You are the moral equivalent of a leech. You are a living emptiness, a meaningless void. You are sour and senile. You are a disease, you puerile one-handed slack-jawed drooling meat slapper. On a good day you are a half-wit. You remind me of drool. You are deficient in all that lends character. You have the personality of wall paper. You are dank and filthy. You are asinine and benighted. You are the source of all unpleasantness. You spread misery and sorrow wherever you go. You smarmy lagerlout git. You bloody woofer sod. Bugger off pillock. You grotty wanking oik artless base-court apple-john. You clouted boggish foot-licking twit.You churlish boil-brained clotpole ponce. You gormless crook-pated tosser. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup patting naff. You gob kissing gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted fobbing beef-witted clapper-clawed flirt-gill. You are a fiend and a coward, and you have bad breath. You are degenerate, noxious and depraved. I feel debased just for knowing you exist. I despise everything about you, and wish you would go away. The only thing worse than your logic is your manners. I have snipped away most of what you wrote, because, well ... it didn't really say anything. Your attempt at constructing a creative flame was pitiful. I mean, really, stringing together a bunch of insults among a load of babbling was hardly effective ... Maybe later in life, after you have learned to read, write, spell and count, you will have more success. True, these are rudimentary skills that many of us normal people take for granted that everyone has an easy time of mastering. But we sometimes forget there are "challenged" persons in this world who find these things more difficult. If I had known that this was your case then I would never have read your mail. It just wouldn't have been right. Sort of like parking in a handicapped space. I wish you the best of luck in the emotional and social struggles that seem to be placing such a demand on you.
[Sound of violent blows being dealt, things being smashed, awful crunching noises, bones being broken, and other bodily harm being inflicted. All of this accompanied by screaming sounds like a woman.]
Now, go away before I taunt you a second time!
[I bow, slowly turn and walk off the stage to the sound of a thunderous ovation.]
Sic Semper Tyrannus
The Bartender says: I would like to tell you that I made all this up, however, I believe in giving credit where credit is due. A hearty Thank You to all the Loyal Citizens at The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler for their most excellent invective and troll bashing skills!