Scots, FTW.

This week has shown why Scots are the masters of insults. Clearly, I need to step up my game.

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Insults like twat waffle and douche canoe and taint wart are no longer sufficient.

Thank you, Scotland, for your contributions to our language. We salute you! (No, that’s not sarcasm, that’s genuine admiration.)

I had seen one person here in the US refer to Trump as the “Cheeto Jesus” (yes, it was an insult) but that pales in comparison to the beauty of the monikers and descriptors that the Scots have heaped upon him.

What’s great is we Americans don’t even need to know what the hell any of those words means, because they succinctly (and accurately) convey the the mental picture desired when describing the man.

Scottish insults, for the win.


I don’t just write as Tymber Dalton. I also write as Lesli Richardson. One of my books is The Great Turning (books 2 and 3 are in edits). While it’s a trilogy, each book in the trilogy is a standalone work that can be read independently of the others.