100 Of The Best Curses and Insults In Italian: A Toolkit for the Testy Tourist
For When You Need Just the Right WordTravelling is fantastic – we don't deny it. But sometimes when you're in another country, stuff happens. A thieving kid lifts your wallet, a cab driver nearly kills you, or a waiter charges you $25 for bottled water. You feel powerless without the ability to do what you really want to do – curse them out.And what's the use of knowing the right curse if you can't pronounce it correctly? The only thing you'll succeed in doing is looking like some lame tourist. But you don't have to look like an idiot anymore. Here are 100 of the best curses and insults in Italian.So the next time a texting teen in Rome knocks over your gelato or a snickering Prada saleswoman in Milan insults your waistline, you'll know precisely how to say, Vaffanculo!
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CONTENTS
Learn How To Give ’Em Hell Like A Native!
Situation #9: License To Drive
Situation #12: I Scream, You Scream
Situation #13: Room Disservice
Situation #16: Missing the Boat
Situation #19: The Prada Put-Down
Situation #32: Crossing the Line
Situation #34: The Breaking Point
Situation #38: Under the Tuscan Run
I must preface this book by saying: I heart Italy. I'd even go so far as to say it's my first true amore. I've traveled to many other remarkable places, but Italy and I, you see, we've had a love affair for almost 20 years. In fact, now that I think about it, my actual romance with Italy is pretty much gone, our relationship remaining profound but in a more platonic way. Sort of like the couple that has lived together so long that things like bad breath no longer matter. Italy and I, we're now old friends.
Once a year, I return to it, like an overused cell phone in need of a good charge. If I were to create my own romantic fresco depicting what I adore most about Italy, it would include the world's finest shoes, pasta, wine, art, gelato, architecture, and (I'm married now, so I'll include this last "element" with a nod to the past) men.
And though my fresco would not include the following, it's not to say they don't exist in Italy (and in fact, sometimes in abundance—especially in certain regions!): aggressive beggars, pickpockets, snobs, hotheads, mobsters, bullies, ingrates, slobs, liars, vultures, and perverts. Yes, they're there. Italy may very well be superior to the rest of the world in most ways, but is indeed just like the rest of us in others in that it is resplendent in its own vermin as well as beauty.
And so it is in response to the latter group, the people who might try to intercept your love affair with Italy, that I equip you with the following hundred-plus insults. Fight back. Be brave. And it's quite likely you'll discover Italy as your lover, too. Just as long as you don't forget, those are my sloppy seconds!
Spelling and pronouncing Italian are easy once you know the few basic rules. The chart below should help give you a feel for the rhythm of the language:
*c and g are hard except when followed by “e” or “i” — to make them hard in Italian an “h” is added.
Double letters “ss,” “tt,” “ll,” etc. are distinctly pronounced — with a slight pause between the two: posso pos-so, gatto gat-to, pelle pel-lay.
Stress usually falls on the next-to-last syllable. We have indicated the stressed syllable with bold in the pronunciation of the phrases.
Never satisfied with the way you experienced Rome as a hostel-hopping pseudo-hippy twenty-something, you've come back to collect. You check yourself into a lavishly-appointed landmark hotel with unobstructed views of the Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain. Your spanking new suede Ferragamo loafers (the love children of at least five grade-A swine hides) are loving your feet in a way your ex-girlfriend never quite managed. Giving your favorite filmmaker (Fellini) the nod, you sidle up to Harry's Bar and order yourself a bellini. Your living “la dolce vita” (the sweet life) vibe is received loud and clear by the hottest modella (model) in the room. You send her a drink. She returns with a wink. Just as you start to suggest slipping off to a quiet place where you can get to know one another, she whispers into your ear that her "companionship" will run you 500 euros. To top it off, your nosy asshole of a bartender makes a less-than-feeble attempt at concealing his snickers.
What to do:
Remind yourself that you're still the same rock star you were five minutes earlier. The only one poised to lose here is the tender, whose tip was just reduced to zilch (though he might not know it yet). So with your head held high (and comfort taken in the knowledge that your Pratesi hotel bed linens will remain pristinely disease-free), lean toward the bartender and smile conspiratorially as you boast:
