Dost thou serenade a “granola”-witted ne’er-do-well?

I hope to not taste thy tallow-faced earlobe for another century, and even then, t’would be preferable were it a palliard.

Hast thy features been wrought from a blob of pompous droppings with a vice?

Hath thy impertinent standing startled a maiden to birth a bulk of swollen-headed ponies?