1000 ways to tell him to shut up now

Shush, or I will beat you like a dwarfish donkey jockey trying to take over 747 with a rubber knife.

Shush, unless you want me to rip you apart like a fillet steak thrown into a pit of rabid starving dogs.

If you ever bite your tongue, you’ll die from acid poisoning.

I can always tell when you’re lying - your lips are moving.

If you’ll stop telling lies about me, I’ll stop telling the truth about you.

Every time you open your mouth, some idiot starts talking.

I’m not hard of hearing, I’m just ignoring you.

I understand everything - except what you’re saying.

If you think of something to say, don’t mention it.

I wish I had a hearing aid so I could turn you off.

I don’t mind you are talking, so long as you don’t mind me not listening.

I don’t mind you are talking, so long as you don’t mind me not listening.

It’s nice hearing from you - next time, just send a postcard.

And your completely irrelevant point is...?

If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I’d fart.

Why don’t you shut that mobile sperm bank you call a mouth before I put your big ass on a straight knuckles and molars diet?

Why don’t you grab a tall glass of "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" and a mouth full these nuts, stupid?

Your conversation is a run-on sentence that never ends.

Speak up! You are entitled to your own stupid opinion.

And your idiotic, whiny-assed opinion would be...?

I notice that you never let an idea interrupt the flow of your conversation.

Please shut up! All that hot air is damaging the Ozone layer.

A guy with a low IQ should have a low voice too.

I can’t hear myself think with all the inane chatter coming from your direction of the room.

You looked intelligent until you opened your mouth.

Reading that post of yours is like being viciously assaulted by a perfumed parakeet in a goddamned Parisian bordello.

For your next trick, why don’t you try holding your breath for about six minutes?

I haven’t heard an amorphous blob of a boob talk such a lame load of shite like that since.. well, actually, since you last opened your cakehole, you pimple-faced perpetual wedgie victim.

 

Go fuck yourself into oblivion, she-beast.

I just felt an instantaneous and unstoppable urge to inform you that you don’t just suck like a supersonic jet engine on high-octane fuel; no, you are the singularity and event horizon of Suck: The Supermassive Black Hole of Suck. Yes, your Suck is so powerful that nothing - nothing - escapes its pull. Oh, did I mention that you suck? Have a nice day, cheers.

Quit yapping at my heels like a little pink poodle with a perm.

Another epileptic seizure on the keyboard!

Shut up before I plant your ass on the gear shifter of your pink Cadillac and let you slam head first into a brick wall like a gay crash test dummy.

Shut up before I place an old black and white TV in your indoor scooter carrier basket and fasten it around your neck with a daisy chain of live rattlesnakes, and send you plummeting to your death off the fourth floor balcony to a standing ovation from the gallery below.

You may be the only person to have won a Watermelon Eating Contest with your ass and, no doubt, impressed and regaled many a Burger King employee and bus stop stranger with the great event of your life, but it doesn’t impress me and I’m still going to lay you out like an airport runway and land a 747 of beating on you if you don’t shut up, you loose shingle in Hurricane Me.

Shut up or I will burst through your gimproom door, beat you about the head, shoulders and asymmetrical fuckface with your Anal Destroyer Dildo Deluxe, drag you down the stale urine, dog shit, bodily fluids, and KY-Jelly covered hall by your single front bucktooth, bounce you down the stairs like a bloated blubber beach ball, past the hat stand that you’re trying desperately to cling onto, through the front door of your hermit hovel, down the street filled with bemused onlookers and turned-over garbage cans, and straight a boxing ring for further acts of unparalleled savagery.

Stop rubbing Rogaine onto your swollen manboobs in the hopes of growing some chest hair and come away from that window you are wiggling your ass out of in the hope that some passing stranger might be desperate enough to grope it for the first sexual experience of your life, and get in here so I can force-feed you a generous helping of Shut The Fuck Up... and have kneepads fitted already - you’ll be needing them.

Don’t you ever have a point to your posts beyond giving your fingers some exercise by dancing them randomly over the keyboard?

Would the dyslexic botched lobotomy patients in the room with the crisscross shoelace scars on their foreheads kindly improve the quality of their insults or drool in silence. Thanks.

Button down that flapping upper lip of yours before I tent stake it into the ground.

Shut up or I’ll bitchslap you so hard, you’ll see more stars than the Hubble telescope.

Shut up or I’ll pop a wheelie on your tricycle, and laugh as you try to look cool as you rattle off the edge of the porch and impale your head in the giant pile of shit I just beat out of you.

How about you get a hobby beyond making a rancid ass out of yourself every time you open your mouth?

Be quite before I nosedive your forehead into the ground like a Cessna in an Al-Qaeda workshop session.

If I want to hear from a rat-faced tard-popsicle, I’ll either spit raw flem at you or waltz over there and piss on you. Until then, stick your head into your infected mange and let the stench knock you out already.

Shut the fuck up already before I throw a stick into the spokes of your rainbow colored tricycle and watch you go coned head over handlebars into the slop of runny shit in your outdoor remedial bed pan, scooterboy.

Button down that flapping upper lip of yours, goofy, before I staple it to the ceiling and watch you spin around like a fart-powered ceiling fan.

Shut up before I pull back that bulbous red nose of yours, let loose and watch your eyes light up like a pinball machine.

Shut up before I stick a red flag up your ass and throw you into a bull ring with a herd of cloned bulls genetically altered to ramrod gimps.

Shut up before I wire your eyeballs to a defibrillator; set the voltage to Kill, and smile as you go flying around the flashing coop like a beheaded multicolored, fire-farting chicken before collapsing conveniently at my feet so I can piss-out the flames and feed the remains of your fried gimp carcass to the pigs.

Shut your mouth before I knock so many teeth out of it the Tooth Fairy needs to make three round trips to collect them all.

Be silent, you dingleberry-brained chuckling chump!

Quit with the reality-altering drugs before what’s left of your brain turns to mush and starts oozing out of your nostrils and drips onto your keyboard, you gone-to-Disneyland-in-the-head-and-never-coming-back untreatable mental patient.

You’re talking like you have a death-wish. Well, you’re in luck, because I have a murder-wish.

Shut up before I smash your pumpkin head with a sledgehammer of verbal abuse until you lose all use of language and are left with the words ’Please’ ’Kill’ and ’Me’ as your only grasp of it.

Shut up, before I send you flying into the wall like a gay crash test dummy.

Shut your lollipop-sucking mouth before I ram your coned forehead up your gaping asshole and make you to dance the Macarena for nickels outside of your nearest Wal-Mart, stupid.

Shut up before I come over there and kick your nuts so hard they dislodge your tonsils into where your eyeballs used to be right before I grabbed your mother’s dildo out of your father’s ass and used it to poke your brain out through the back of your John Merrick cranium, Mr. Monotone Drone.

I swear, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’ll finger-fuck your eye sockets, get a bowling ball grip on your pumpkin head, and throw you back into the gutter where you belong.

Shut up, before I stick my boot so far up your butt that you’ll be spit-shining it with your tongue.

I’ll put on my sombrero and dance the La Cucaracha on your testicles if you don’t shut the fuck up.

Shut your senseless lips that flap in the breeze like the sails of the good ship lollipop.

Shut up, before I stick shove my foot so far up your ass that you’ll be shitting shoe-shaped turds for a month.

How about putting that into proper syntax, form, and grammar so I can at least understand what the fuck you’re saying before I dismiss it?

You get ever more ridiculous with every word that comes tumbling out your cock-sucking mouth.

Rather than watch your fail at the flame game, why don’t I just send you a revolver so that you can play Russian roulette with all chambers fully loaded?

Stop whining like an old whore. I can’t be bothered to slap you about your wrinkled gin-ravaged face any longer - it’s too easy.

Please try to have some small idea of what in the hell you’re talking about before you speak again.

Can you spell "shut your fat fucking face, asshole"?

I couldn’t give an agitated gibbon’s malignant left testicle about your semen soaked sob story.

If I wanted as much as the time of day out of you, I’d lay you out at high noon and read your beak like a fuckin’ sundial, bitch.

Gimp, don’t start babbling like you had a mouth full of depends and a clue in your head.

If I want the advice of a dullard, I’ll slap you on the back of the head and wake up that little peg legged hamster that operates the drool-powered waterwheel of thought in there. Until then, sit in the corner and wait until some either speaks to you or spits at you, got it fucko?

As it’s the happy holiday season, may the Dove of Peace shit in your mouth.

Shut up before I throw a stick into the spokes of your rainbow-colored Tandem and let the asphalt and curb do the work of beating you up for me.

We’re not interested in the views of painted, perfumed gigolos.
- Paul Keating

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.
- Mark Twain

He has occasional flashes of silence, that make his conversation perfectly delightful.
- Sydney Smith, on Lord Macaulay

Never miss a good chance to shut up.
- Will Rogers

Shut up, before I stick my boot so far up your butt that you’ll be spit-shining it with your tongue.

If you have something to say, shut up.

Do that trick again; the one where you open your mouth and your head disappears.

Who was talking to you or even taking you under consideration?

Is your speech over, or can I finish my nap?

You make silence a wonderful thing to look forward to.

You have a fine voice - why spoil it by talking?

You’re like a slow leak - people hear you but they can’t turn you off.

A long period of silence would be most welcome on your part.

Do that trick again, the one where you open your mouth and your head disappears.

She has a black belt in mouth.

No shit Mr. Burns, why don’t you jump your old ass back into Smither’s lap, and shut the fuck up already.

Turn the ignition off, your mouth is still running.

I’ll let you have the last word if you guarantee it will be your last.

You’ve got a big hole in your head, now shut it.

Your incoherent babbling has reached its zenith.

When you are at a loss for words, your loss is our gain.

Why don’t you stop gyrating that gaping misplaced asshole of a mouth on your face for a fucking minute so I can see what the fuck a gibbering witless gimp actually looks like?

You’re certainly thoughtless. I wish you were speechless, too.

If you knew what you’re talking about you’d be dangerous.

You give away a lot of free advice, and only charge what it’s worth.

You’re a free thinker. Your thoughts aren’t worth anything.

He is the only person who enters the room mouth first.

It’s always difficult to follow an outstanding speaker. Fortunately, I don’t have that problem tonight.

If he ever had to eat his words, he’d put on fifteen pounds.

I wish you were on TV - so I could turn you off.

You should be wired for silence.

Freak, stop talking like you are shitting razor blades out of your camel toe ass. Relax, and go play Join-The-Dots or something...even if you’ve only mastered 3 dots.

You talk so much shit, you could plant a forest in it.

English is your second language, isn’t it? What a shame you don’t have a first.

Did you come up with that yourself, or do you owe all the credit to the many screaming voices in your head?

Be quite before I ram an electric cattle prod up your ass and set the voltage to "Kill."

If you ever waste my time again with another one of these sonnets to your stupidity, I will uppercut your jaw so hard that your head snaps backward and then snaps forward in perfect synchronicity for me to head butt you into a seven-year coma.

If I want your stupid opinion, I’ll beat it out of you.

If I want any shit out of you I’ll squeeze your head.

 

You could just have easily have said that by burping.

Shut up, before I slap you on the back of your head and knock your dick-shaped Popsicle out.

 

Rearrange these two words into a well-known phrase: up shut.

Take a deep breath and hold it until somewhere before the end of the 1912 overture.

If I want your opinion, I’d twist your ear and feed you a gumball, dimwit.

Shut up, you hollerin’ Redneck afflicted with Tourette’s syndrome!

Cackling like a hen that just jumped up on the dinner table doesn’t help you gain respect around here.

Take 55 milligrams of pure Diazepam and 120mg of Valium and sit in the corner and fondle yourself until the presence of a somewhat pacified braying jackass is requested.

Climb back into your possum hole and don’t pop your pointy-head up again; in case I decide Groundhog Day came early and wallop it with a nail-spiked baseball bat, you clodhopping yokel.

Oh look! Just 249621841 more days until I start caring what you think.


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