If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted…you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie. There is no rectitude whatsoever…you can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil. Listen to Rat Kiley. Cooze, he says [of the girl who didn’t write back to him]. He does not say bitch. He certainly does not say woman, or girl. He says cooze. Then he spits and stares. He’s nineteen years old—it’s too much for him—so he looks at you with those big gentle killer eyes and says cooze, because his friend is dead, and because it’s so incredibly sad and true: she never wrote back. (175)
A leather jacket.
A pink boa.
A male tuxedo.
My Vagina's angry. It is. It's pissed off. My vagina's furious and it needs to talk. It needs to talk about all this shit. It needs to talk to you. I mean, what's the deal? An army of people out there thinking up ways to torture my poor-ass, gentle, loving vagina...Spending their days constructing psycho products and nasty ideas to undermine my pussy. Vagina motherfuckers. All this shit they're constantly trying to shove up us, clean us up--stuff us up, make it go away. Well, my vagina's not going away. It's pissed off and it's staying right here. Like tampons--what the hell is that? A wad of dry fucking cotton stuffed up there. Why can't they find a way to subtly lubricate the tampon? As soon as my vagina sees it, it goes into shock. It says, Forget it. It closes up. You need to work with the vagina, introduce it to things, prepare the way. That's what foreplay's all about. You got to convince my vagina, seduce my vagina, engage my vagina's trust. You can't do that with a dry wad of fucking cotton. (70-71)
"I climbed in with Sherry as soon as he was gone, and per usual we spent our day sleeping in and making love. When we'd had enough of each other's tongues and fingers, we called in the eunuchs, maidservants, mamelukes, pet dogs and monkeys; then we finished off with Sherry's bag of tricks: little weighted balls from Baghdad, dildoes from the Ebony Isles and the City of Brass, et cetera. Not to break a certain vow of mine, I made do with a roc-down tickler from Bassorah, but Sherry touched all the bases." (416).