15 High-Profile Insults From the Pros
Got beef with your friend, partner or colleague? Stand back and let the pros handle it.
Frankie Boyle Makes an Important Distinction
“Trump’s nothing like Hitler. There’s no way he could write a book.”
Here’s One for the Short Kings, from Full Metal Jacket
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: How tall are you, private?
Private Cowboy: Sir, 5-foot-9, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Five-foot-nine? I didn’t know they stacked shit that high!
This One’s for the Literature Snobs, Courtesy of Rob Beckett
“You know you’re working class when your TV is bigger than your bookcase.”
This Stink-Mouth Zinger from The Nutty Professor
“Hey man, what’s wrong with that breath? I can smell it over here! Your breath is so stinky, people look forward to your farts.”
Jim Norton Has One for Any Foes Who Talk Funny
“That’s an interesting accent you got there. Are you from stroke-victim?”
This Hyper-Specific Line from 1984’s Rhinestone
“You can always tell when Barnett’s been over to my house. The toilet ain’t never flushed, and the cat’s pregnant.”
Gilbert Gottfried Links Donald Trump to His Favorite Holiday
“As a developer, Donald Trump has done so much damage to the New York skyline that instead of calling him The Donald, they should call him the 20th hijacker.”
This Retort from 1983’s WarGames
“Maybe you could tell us who first suggested the idea of reproduction without sex.”
“Um, your wife?”
Amy Schumer on William Shatner
“I’ve seen less bloated men fished out of rivers.”
The Classic Mid-‘90s Acerbic Wit from Tommy Boy
Tommy: Hey, does this suit make me look fat?
Richard: No no no. Your face does.
Mike Tyson on Jeffrey Ross
“Usually when I see a face that grotesque, it’s after a fight. His performance was so bad, I wish I had bitten my own ears off.”
This Timeless Bit of Fat-shaming from 1939’s The Women
Nancy Blake: Nevermind, dear. Chin up.
Miriam Aarons: That’s right, both of them.
Bill Bailey Puts the Bean-Loving Public on Blast
“I’m amazed by how compliant people are in this country. They go into service stations, ‘cathedrals of despair,’ as I call them, where baseball-capped ghouls of the night lord it over their congealed bean kingdoms, their fried-bread twilights, their neon demi-mondes, tempting you to enter to become them, undead. ‘Ooh, beans on toast, £18.95, very reasonable. Oh no, I’m not going to complain. They probably pump them up from London in special tubes.’”
If Your Archnemesis Is in High School, There’s No Coming Back from This Line from She’s All That
“You’re vapor. You’re spam. A waste of perfectly good yearbook space.”
It Only Takes a Few Minor Tweaks to Turn This Gary Delaney Self-Own into a Roast of Your Poor Friends
“As a kid I was made to walk the plank. We couldn’t afford a dog.”
