When I worked in Soho, I used to walk to work occasionally with a lovely lady who used to be Judi Dench’s assistant.
She told me a story of how one time, when they were walking through town late at night, they crossed the road in front of a London cabby, who tooted his horn before leaning out of his window and yelling “GET OUT THE ROAD, YA C%$£!”
To which Judi, quick as a whip, responded “That’s DAME C%$£, thank you very much.”
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Ageism and sexism is the answer, then? How about just “fuck off” . Always the right size
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“OK, Junior.”
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“I told you, Dad, it’s Indiana!”
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That’s was the dog’s name.
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This is the correct answer. Play dumb.
My friend and I still just randomly say “your face!” to each other. My kids think it’s hilarious when I turn an anodyne observation into a nonsensical face reference. “The cat is being cute!” “Your face is cute!”
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Sometimes, I am in the mood to call grannies Humanities last, best hope.
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Hmm insulting a scientist… If you’re in the States try:
Oh I heard your NIH grant was scored “Not Discussed”
And it happens enough that you could very well hit a fresh wound 
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My biggest problem with that is because it’s so ageist. Shocked that the author of the piece suggested calling someone a grandma - is being a grandma actually a bad thing? Is aging a moral failure or something?
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Only for women… 
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Always consider the source.
Someone who feels the need to insult others unprovoked is likely pretty unhappy in their own life.
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Usually yes, though I have distant family members who insult each other, and me, constantly. It’s a form of humor, and stronger or wittier insults in return are heartily appreciated. Takes me some getting used to every time, but soon enough, I can give as good as I’m getting. Even as I’m continually feeling something wrong about running each other down, even if it’s “all in good fun,” and supposedly a form of affection.
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There are always exceptions, of course.
That said, I’ve seen ‘jokes told in good fun’ turn into fighting words and fisticuffs too often to ever be comfortable with that kind of engagement myself.
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Indeed. I raise hackles instead of laughter sometimes because I go over some sort of line with my return banter/insults. Rules exist, including some that are peculiar to my family, but I don’t spend enough time with them to remember all the rules. 
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