Turd

How gladly would I have ſtopt the filthy mouth of that long-tongued fellow with a turd!

[H]e's nea in a Banter by my Saul, gin ye had bean bye when he wreet, ye wold ha ſeen his Face furrow'd lik a dry Cow-Turd, an his Eyn as keen as an Engliſh Bull-Dog, an his Back as high as a Camels, ſo grat was his Wrath, an now he be a Soldier it be tan Times bigger.

When he met with any of them upon the Street, he would never fail to put ſome Trick or other upon them; ſometimes putting a fry'd Turd in their graduate Hoods; […] One Day that the Theologians were appointed all to meet in the Sorbonne, he made a Barbonneſa Tart, made of Store of Garlick, Galbanum, Aſſa fœtida, Caſtoreum, Dogs Turds very warm; which he ſteep'd, temper'd, and liquify'd in the corrupt Matter of pocky Biles and peſtiferous Botches; and, very early in the Morning, therewith anointed all the Lattices and Grates of the Sorbonne in ſuch ſort, that the Devil could not have endured it.

[…] just as Snitter felt himself exhausted and unable to do more, Rowf's rump slid suddenly forward as smoothly as a turd from a healthy anus […]

Thus, an insect that has evolved the useful disguise of looking very much like a piece of dung in order to damp the enthusiasm of any non-coprophagous predator is clearly on to a good thing but, as Stephen Jay Gould has wisely observed, what is the adaptive value in looking only 5 per cent like a turd?

Hell, as bird number 697 they could have looked like old turds and I still would have got excited.

The sausage on my plate could have been a turd, it tasted like a turd, it smelled like a turd, it had the texture of a turd. In fact, thinking about it, it probably was a turd.

When Giles got inside he found a bathtub full to the brim with piss and turds. Asked how much he expected to be paid to empty all this, trowel by trowel, Giles quoted a random sum: £2,000.

Last year, he arrested some crankhead turd, brings him down to the station. The guy's cuffed and Fred sets him down on the bench in the booking room. Now you know Fred, right? Not an abusive guy. Never even talks smack to suspects. Well, this turd, he starts kicking and shouting, […]

"Don't be a turd," Freddi says. "Don't be a Tones Turd." / "If telling the truth makes a man a turd, then a turd I shall be." / "Yeah," Freddi says. "You'll go down in history. Tones the Truth-Telling Turd. Kids will learn about you in school."

You ought to see that owlet […] . We brought it to table and it turded in F's salad, it sits on your finger and squeaks like Peggy does when she gets tipsy.

[P]iano dropped chords like a Wolfean horse turding in the steamy Brooklyn winter morn