Stephen Fry's guide to insulting your enemies
The Telegraph's Tim Walker has piqued the (extremely creative) ire of a national treasure.
Tim Walker – or, if you prefer, the ‘shiny faced, arse-witted weasel of a Telegraph journo’ formerly known as Tim Walker – has unwisely provoked the ire of national treasure Stephen Fry by publicly suggesting that Fry doesn’t write his own tweets. During the course of his article attacking Fry's supposed lack of social media dedication, Walker referred somewhat bitchily to the cultural heavyweight as a “wit” in deliberate inverted commas (he also opened his piece with the accusation that Fry is ‘not quite up there with boy band One Direction’. In which stakes, we’ll never know.)
The linguistic prowess of Stephen Fry cannot be underestimated, and so opening a slanging match with him seems fairly inadvisable. Presumably to prove this point, Fry unleashed a deluge of delightful comebacks on his blog. Busy person? The best ten are compiled below, readily available for usage against your own worst enemies:
Creep from the inner ring of Satan’s rectum
It turns out that inside Satan’s rectum, there is a Hell within a Hell. And the inner ring – presumably analogous to the innermost ring of Dante’s Inferno, home of no less than Judas Iscariot – holds Tim Walker.
The brains of a lobotomised donkey
Few scientific studies have probed the actions of lobotomised donkeys, but presumably they combine their traditional stubbornness with a total lack of world comprehension. Fry may well be implying that men who write for The Telegraph also suffer from these twin pillars of idiocy, but it’s hard to conjecture.
Boll-weevils are large beetles that mainly feed on cotton. Fry considers Walker to be a particularly unpleasant strain of this insect, because sometimes being a serious South American pest isn’t enough.
He managed to exude a semi-literate gossipy turd
Presumably that’s the turd that came from Satan’s rectum. Walker is defecating from the inner circle of Satan’s rectum in Hell. It’s like working out an Escher painting.
I’d rather be chief enema administrator to Jabba the Hutt
Another scatological hilarity brings the job of gossip columnist at The Daily Telegraph into further disrepute than it has ever brought itself (and that is saying something.)
The Telegraph’s human cockroach
Being as they are quite closely related, it’s difficult to tell whether Walker would be more insulted while compared to a particularly noxious boll-weevil or the universally reviled cockroach. So Fry goes with both.
Anyone who’s attempted to make one of those boil-in-the-bag readymeals after a particularly heavy day at work knows what Fry is talking about here.
Breasts exuding pus. These are never good things.
You nauseating anus
Another addition to the Escher painting of rectal passageways and infernal dominions in which Tim Walker and his ilk apparently reside. Never has the pop culture phrase ‘shit’s going down’ been more appropriate.
And finally, a question...
Who knows what goes on in the acid-dripping voids of empty space between the ears of such low-life insults to DNA?
Use this one sparingly if you’re planning to insult your enemies the Fry way. You may only get the chance to whip it out once.