Former English Major Blows Off Steam

Sometimes, I just feel like hurling Shakespearean insults:

Thine face is not worth sunburning!
Thou qualling fat-kidneyed apple-john!
How now my sweet creature of bombast?
Thou warped common-kissing wagtail!
Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side!
Your bedded hairs, like life in excrements, start up and stand on end!
Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!
Sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear!
How now, wool-sack, what mutter you?
Thou hath not so much brain as ear wax!
Thou stale old mouse eaten dry cheese!
Thou wimpled tardy-gaited pigeon-egg!

You could go around muttering these all day long, like some addled curmudgeon, and assuming you didn't raise your voice too much, no one would even know they were being castigated. You'd just hear a lot of "What?" -- to which you could reply "Oh, nothing. Just quoting the Bard. 'To be or not to be'...how does the rest of that go?"