20 May 2009


A good friend once called me a weasel. And that was the beginning of my love affair with the perfect insult.

Weasel. As in-- you're a weasel.

It has the ideal blend of sting and sarcasm. The perfect combination of I'm-trying-to-be-funny and I'm-totally-serious-so-watch-your-back.
You call someone a weasel and they laugh because it's weird, but they're nonetheless perplexed and without response. You leave them thinking about what they did to become synonymous with a furry, long-tailed mammal. And once they figure out what they did to establish themselves as a weasel, they stop doing whatever it was.

Because no one wants to be a furry, long-tailed mammal with short legs and whiskers.

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