“You're an idiot,” Josh seethed. I slumped backwards into the aged vinyl. My glass was empty. I needed another milkshake.

“Well, yeah,” I agreed. “But you're gonna have to be more specific.”

His eyes narrowed coolly. Oops. I forgot that most people don't like questions or requests for explanations. Apparently they interpret that as a threatening or undermining move.

I just really sucked at social cues.

Fortunately, Josh decided my earnest plea deserved a response, even if spat in my direction, “You're dim. Dense. Not clever. You're absolutely infuriating.”

“Oh, I know I’m not that clever, but I’m pretty good at sounding like I am, which is in itself a kind of cleverness. And - you know - I’ll take it,” I chirped, enjoying the way the grotesque vein above his eyebrow twitched. People never quite knew how to react when I so cheerily agreed with their sentiments intended to hurt.

And, look, the words did hurt sometimes. I was human. The thing about insults, though, is that they tend to lose their oomph when repeated religiously. Like, if you're going to insult me, at least be creative about it! You know what hurts more than a regular insult? An insult articulated skillfully. That shit smarts. Especially when it's SO good, you can't help but respect it just the slightest bit.

‘You're an idiot’: low-impact. Solid 3/10 insult. Easily forgettable. I wasn't going to struggle to get to sleep at night because of those words.

Now, consider something like ‘You are a plague on...