8 Bold Faced Insults That Have Come My Way From Rude Men
I continuously wonder why do men think women are so scared of being called old, and even why older women get so crazily jealous of younger women? I see it the other way around - I was an idiotic youth, I’m only getting more interesting, sexier, more confident, classy and better with age!
By Meg April
The blathering bullshit that rude or drunk (or both) men say to women is sometimes hurtful as much as it is comedy gold. I wrote this list after I got insulted by an old creeper at a bar yesterday. He was halfway up a beautiful college girl bartender’s skirt as her eyes rolled out of her trapped-behind-the-rail-liquors head (oh, those days) and then he made a joke to me, after I’d corrected him about something, that I must have graduated in the same class as Bill Clinton. I started jotting down hysterical insults that have fallen out of the mouths of true gentlemen over the years, and that is gross and weird and it makes me think, for the 1,1112th time in my short Clinton-lengthed life, sometimes some men are just absolutely disrespectful and terrible.
To the good men who don’t spew this brand of George Costanza hypercritical drivel, I’m sorry for your peers, but DO something about them. Because EW; modern girls are so over it. Hang onto your precious egos; God forbid we start firing back.
1. “Your freckles aren’t cute. You know, they’re actually a skin deficiency.”
This came from a first date I thought was going really well, who casually said he just doesn’t date girls with freckles, because they aren’t “sun kisses” like I probably think they are. They actually mean you are genetically deformed and don’t have enough face pigment.
But ‘no offense’.
Oh. Okay. Zero offense for sure, of course. I think I just stood in stun-gunned silence for five or twelve days before I shouted into the mirror WAIT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DID HE SAY ABOUT MY FRECKLES? Freckles don’t have to be your cup of tea, but whatever happened to a little bit of tact and class. Politely decline, just ignore my texts like a normal uninterested guy. You don’t have to eviscerate my looks for sport.
2. “Did you know that red lipstick makes you look old?”
Thanks for the tip. I’ll tell my 95-year-old Gram who still gets phone numbers with her matte cherry pout to stop wearing it immediately! Oh no…you might be called OLD if you wear dark lipstick?!?
I continuously wonder why do men think women are so scared of being called old, and even why older women get so crazily jealous of younger women? I see it the other way around – I was an idiotic youth, I’m only getting more interesting, sexier, more confident, classy and better with age! Me, Susan Sarandon, Anjelica Houston, Helen Mirren, Cate Blanchett, and Gram are all like, really lol suck it though dudes.
3. “Your tits have sort of a National Geographic look.”
I think the word you were looking for is real. My natural tits are real, and they aren’t small, so they obey some portion of earth’s gravitational pull. Damn you, Earth!
So, yeah, they don’t look like a pair of hovering grapefruits. They weren’t doctored or selfie’d at the proper angle on Instagram. In the flesh baby, here they abound! Maybe take an occasional chill from the PornHub benders and meet live actual girls. Tits fall to the sides, they move around, they flop to and fro. Do they feel like bags of sand to you? I mean, do they though? That’s kinda what I thought.
4. “I usually only get with Maxim models, but you’re not too bad-lookin’. Especially considering the ‘talent’ (air quotes) in Philly.”
Look, there should probably be a caveat in this list for how professional athletes speak to women. With any kind of celebrity, especially an NFL player, there should be some level of foreseen presumption of how you’ll be treated. Like when two huge long-haired defensive tackles with Super Bowl rings yank you onto a college bar dance floor stinking of rail whiskey in a super-aggro version Night at the Roxbury. I did NOT go back to their hotel room to keep the ping-pong action up, as the ruder one requested/assumed, but I did end up having a fling with the lesser-obnoxious one before he went to play ball in Europe because, well, I was a high school cheerleading captain after all, and, well, you know, Philadelphia, and America, and football, rah rah rah, I don’t have to explain that part, right? Lol good.
5. “You would be the perfect looking woman, if only you were blonde and had blue eyes. You just aren’t wife material.”
The hills are alive with the sound of fuckboys. This guy had a big crush on Erin Andrews, which I thought seemed to favor me because I am a tall, lean, somewhat sporty looking gal who is good with a microphone, but he made sure to clarify that my ginger-auburn hair and dirty dump-poop brown eyes were NOT cutting the mustard in his Republican Fuckboy Book of Blonde Wife Material Perfection. Oh well, his kampf now will be getting laid by anybody with even a shred of self-esteem.
And it isn’t complex: you don’t want me, don’t date me. I’m not a totally shallow fuck, so I dated him because I just liked him and felt chemistry. What’s funniest about this guy is that to this day, I think he really, really loved me, maybe more than any of them did, but couldn’t get past his own idea of what a polite blonde wife with a hot meal waiting on the stove should be, and that maybe a free-spirited, sharp-witted redhead with a guitar would better suit him.
6. “You’re fat AND you’re skinny AND you wear too much bronzer!!!”
To his credit, I did wear too much bronzer that one summer. I mean, Jersey Shore was in syndication, and I lived in Jersey. But for the love of J-WOWW, your insult is weak! You’re fat and you’re skinny… you’re tall AND you’re short, you’re smart AND you’re dumb, you’re rich AND you’re poor.
Wut. Da. Fuq.
Wait wait, let me try one – your d was big AND you were really terrible in bed. Did that work? We can all play this game, yay that’s so fun! Also funny that he was worshipping my literal butthole before I changed my number and told him to fuck right off. But tbh I’ll give credit where credit is due, the bronzer insight was fortuitous makeup advice, so thanks for that, King of Sephora. You were way ahead of your pre-contour palettes time!
7. “I believe you have something doctors call Histrionic Personality Disorder.”
What’s that, Dr. Freud aka unemployed guy living in a basement?
“It’s because you’re too sexual with everybody.”
Nope, not the case, I just really liked you and was attracted to you; just sexual to you.
“It’s too in my face.”
Ah, well then, please let me remove it forever from your face.
“No, wait…I just meant…”
Nah. I’m good. Let me go flail my hot bod in front of a man who gets fired up instead of morphing into a talking DSM manual with no formal education in anything as he desperately needs therapy himself. But wait, do I have a personality disorder… because I enjoyed sleeping with you too much? Guilty, lock me away in the ward for the sexually insane. I submit. Do you carry straightjackets in a 6-Long?
8. “You’ll be a catch…when you’re 30.”
I was 25 and this semi-dig caused the most serious, flailing internal heartburn, because I was dating an older guy I was legitimately in love with, and any other parameter felt changeable for him (if this one had said, be more Aryan please, I may have jumped headfirst into a bucket of peroxide and bought some of those wicked 90s colored contact lenses, lol). But for the many things I could do, I could not push time ahead. Which was all he wanted: Me, way more mature. Not throwing drinks at him, not having zero goals, not being a bratty brat from actual hell.
This one wrote a warm funny message to me on my 30th birthday asserting he’d been right about what he’d foretold five years earlier, and as we are still friends now, I see why he said what he did. Because even though I was indeed a vodka-drenched loon drifting/kicking/punching my way through my mid-20s, incapable of being good for anyone until I was good for myself, he saw some quality shit in me from the angle of an older peer. And knew I wasn’t some fat skinny histrionic bronzer abuser psycho as much as I was merely a hidden good egg that just needed to grow up a lot.