Traffic Trouble? Talk Like A Pirate Day Traffic Insults #2

Last year, the scurvy'd blaggards at Talk Like a Pirate day linked to us on my suggestion that pirate insults be employed in traffic instead of traditional insults, as they cheer'd both insulter and insultee alike, and tunr'd an angry moment aside. As my national service to celebrate Talk Like A Pirate Day, please suggest a traffic situation in the comments area of this post; I will then offer a rightwise pirate insult.

It is very satisfying to call, say a slow Lexus full of metrosexuals, "a slab-sided dandy scow," or a weaving mini-van a " groggy one-eyed chimp at the tiller of that herring-buss," or to threaten "to raise yer bastard entrails for a preventer-stay, ye bilge breathin' twice-poxed quarter-shrimp," to the pick-up that cut you off on the way to Bellevue.

EXAMPLES:

A. A VW van struggling in the left lane up a hill. "Ahoy! Out of the Larboard Channel, ye Ungrateful Dead! Ye've manned yer capstan with kittens and dressed yer mainmast in tie dye, and I load a bow-chaser with rat meat and rake yer sticker'd stern and clean the twigs from yer beards, ye sun-baked toss-pots!"

B. Cut off by an overdecorated mid-priced sports car. "Heave-to with that gilded chum bucket for lovelorn sea-chumps!"

C. Today this clown in a silver BMW tailgated me, passed me on the right, then cut me off, eliminating the 15 feet of space I had prudently left in front of the car in front of me. ...Oh no, that was me doing that to someone else...

Damn me' eyes and raise me naked to the crosstrees! What d'I take meself fer? The incontinent Earl of Lateness in a couch and six with me pregnant ugliest daughter off to be wedded to the Sultan of Persia? Where be I a-going in such an unholy fuss? Have I been brought unawares to her Majesty's tender justice with my letter of Marque in me other purse and me head on a pike to stimulates the conversation on Sunday walks on the Thames? Consarn me for lubberly sea- whelk and a dandy Jim Pants O' Fire!

D. On the drive home from work a black BMW (I sense a theme here) whose driver was glued to a cell phone swerved two lanes to get in front of me in a left-turn lane, then slowed to a crawl for the last 20 feet, finally making a U-turn as the light that I would have made turned red.

AHOY! HOLD YOUR COURSE, Ye Bilge-brained Earl of Spoiled Rat Sandwich, I'll TAN yer hide fer me small clothes! MAKE YOUR SIGNALS AFTER MANOUVERS, ye devil's own fool! Shove off or prepare for BOARDING, ye buttered arse-knave! Yer only wind is going through through yer ears, and ye'll hear the sweet gun-music of the WHOLE fleet if ye don't HOVE-TO on my lee and clear the channel! Pollute me eyes again , and I'll break yer Teutonic sea-lawyer's brig for grapeshot and send me lads for plunder on yer bastard family lands.