The Force / Don Winslow

My review of Don Winslow’s new blockbuster can be found here.

Other that Guns and Penises, The Force was the only possible title, really, because tough guys need to surround themselves with things that make them feel tough. Titles like Ideological Dinosaurs Still Roam The Earth or My Knob, My Rules or American Fuckwit just didn’t have the same commercial punch. Some quotes from this new classic of modern literature?

What passes for a compliment:

Malone says, “You spic cunt.”
Paz smiles at him. “Spic cunt is famously good. That’s why everyone wants them some.”


How the hero expresses his anger towards a woman:

Malone gets up, goes for her. “You fucking cunt!”

Because real men don’t need to explain their anger in a respectful way – they just get abusive.


What passes for love:

“It was her voice, low and soft, even more than her looks, that first drew him to her. A voice full of promises and reassurance. You’ll find comfort here. And pleasure. In my arms, in my mouth, in my pussy.”

Mouth, pussy and arms/arse: these are the most important attributes of any woman. Listen to Don, children. He’s old and wise. The man knows what he’s talking about!


What passes for humour:

“‘… then he wets his dick in thousand-dollar pussy, comes out and says, ‘Don’t tell Amy’!’ They all crack up again.”

Because ninety dollar pussy is for losers, and because it’s really, really funny to feel bad about fucking a woman other than your partner. It is, in fact, it is so funny that all the male characters “crack up”. As if a real man would be honest, faithful or respectful with a woman! D’oh!


How women talk to the men they love:

“You smell like pussy, you motherfucker. White pussy, some ratchet?”

I have yet to finish calculating the value of white pussy in relation to black pussy – taking ratchet and non-ratchet variables into account, of course … over to you, Don!

'We're hoping to go back to the James Bond of the novels, so we're looking for a sexist, misogynist dinosaur.'

Observations on the younger generation:

“So much young pussy around these days and they give it away for an iTunes download.”

Did anyone say “blonde moment”? These girls need to enroll in the legendary business course “Bang for Your Buck: Valuing Pussy 101” pronto! Subjects covered include:

– Explore how to make pussy appraisal decisions and valuation!
– Examine the workings and efficiency of pussy markets!
– Master the principles of cock structure!
– Perform valuations of pussies using real-world cases!
– Learn how to put a value on any pussy in a global context!

Base your future decisions on the knowledge of pussy markets, cost of lingerie, cash flow modelling, liquidity, intellectual governance, cross-gender transactions, optimal aesthetic value and analysis of oral technique. A baccalaureate in pornography is, of course, is essential.


What real men do on a Saturday night:

“You don’t go bowling. That’s just a cover to pig out, get drunk and fuck cheap whores.”

As if! Our hero only fucks expensive whores.


What passes for romance:

“You were never ‘some whore I fucked.’”

Golly. Is it hot in here, or have I just been staring at Don Winslow’s jacket photograph?

Don Winslow, former African safari guide, applies the same principles to his hero

Don Winslow, former African safari guide, applies the same principles to his hero

Why all women should be euthanised at the age of thirty:

“… the smell of old garbage and stale urine, sweet, sour, sickly and corrupt as an old whore’s perfume.”

Yes, “old” (prob over 28) whores smell like “old garbage and stale urine”, but old johns are very different. Old johns are what EVERY piece of thousand-dollar pussy wants – and the older, the better. What kind of freakish young woman would want a gentle, respectful, beautiful guy her own age? Gimme sumdat sugarstick, Methuselah! Sixtysomething men, in fact, offer a pleasure so intense that, like Precambrian poster-boy Hugh Hefner, they require multiple young partners simultaneously. Yes, ladies, they are SEXUAL STEAM ENGINES. Don’t believe me?

“Harry was sixtysomething, I dunno,” Russo says, “but fucking like he’s nineteen. Two girls at a time, three, he’s a steam engine. Girls are tag-teaming, he’s wearing them out … So this one night … there’s Harry, in the sack, hookers standing around him weeping like he’s Jesus or something.”

As it happens, Don is 63. (I’m still trying to work out what that means in relation to the quote.)


What passes for an evening out:

“… usually just an excuse to get drunk with your buddies or bang some whore, or both.”

Yes, that’s right, children: “some whore” – a thing, an object, three holes and an invoice.


And people ask why I married a much younger man.

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