Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jun 18, 2012 11:54:05 GMT -8
So, I Googled "Pernese Insults" and this came up. It's a post by Dragonmage of Aerten Weyr, and I thought I'd share it for all to enjoy. All credit for this post goes to Dragonmage of Aerten Weyr, who posted it there. I am shamelessly copying it, because it was cool.
"There's your typical flitter-brained deadglow, a crackdusted Gather-fool acting like a sun-crazed wher, the kind of person who would try blowing out the glows. There's a black ovine in every family, a rotten egg, someone born under the Red Star and full of Thread. You'll find the hidebound old Threadspore, friendly as a tunnelsnake and generally acting the wherry. You might run across a gasbag, all firestone and ash, still wet behind the earknobs and just blowing smoke, and you might be tempted to tell that knee-high to a crawler upstart and his flitter-brained flying watchwher to go back to the barracks. There's the old wherry, ugly as a watchwher, smelling like a tunnelsnake fart and looking either like something the wher dragged in or like Thread warmed over. It'll be a warm night between before you'd even consider dealing with this wherry-faced pile of tunnelsnake poop, so tell him to shove between and go chase himself. Of course that might get that fardling piece of Threadfodder mad as a wet wherry. Then there's the scaredy-flit, acting like a wher afraid of its own shadow. And last but not least, you might meet a snake-oil trader, slippery as a greased tunnelsnake and lower than said tunnelsnake's belly. Not for all the sand in Igen would you want to make any deals with that Bitran!"
"There's your typical flitter-brained deadglow, a crackdusted Gather-fool acting like a sun-crazed wher, the kind of person who would try blowing out the glows. There's a black ovine in every family, a rotten egg, someone born under the Red Star and full of Thread. You'll find the hidebound old Threadspore, friendly as a tunnelsnake and generally acting the wherry. You might run across a gasbag, all firestone and ash, still wet behind the earknobs and just blowing smoke, and you might be tempted to tell that knee-high to a crawler upstart and his flitter-brained flying watchwher to go back to the barracks. There's the old wherry, ugly as a watchwher, smelling like a tunnelsnake fart and looking either like something the wher dragged in or like Thread warmed over. It'll be a warm night between before you'd even consider dealing with this wherry-faced pile of tunnelsnake poop, so tell him to shove between and go chase himself. Of course that might get that fardling piece of Threadfodder mad as a wet wherry. Then there's the scaredy-flit, acting like a wher afraid of its own shadow. And last but not least, you might meet a snake-oil trader, slippery as a greased tunnelsnake and lower than said tunnelsnake's belly. Not for all the sand in Igen would you want to make any deals with that Bitran!"
The art of the insult is still an art, after all.
