So much skill and craft thusly applied in the service of entertaining a reader blessed with that degree of escapist dedication-i mean, you could make a case that this isn't a cowboy contemporary so much as a western fantasy. Selective application of critical thinking in the service of escapist happyfuntyme.įun if you don't think about. I AM A RUGGED COWPOKE WHO DON'T TAKE NO SASSAFRASS FROM NOBODY SO WHY CAIN'T YOU SEE MY TEARS!?!?!?
So that's how you get this mindless, equine-scented, wildly-improbable piece of poo that's how you get rapey Carraghs and MacGuttybusters with E-Z Access Kilten Kocks.Īnd whatever the fuck that little purse at the front is called.Ī kind of hypermasculine yet utterly, distractingly, viscerally false cock-puppetry, like: gut me up against the barn, tor, like one of your french girls. degree of cowboy authenticity.īut the blue-jeans? the hat? the bowlegged swagger and shitkicker hero pose? We like our cowboys and our highlanders, because the idea of an outdoorsy, rugged, sloe-eyed savage fucking our guts out is a lot more attractive than the sun-ravaged, horse-bestenched, no-underwear-wearing taint-stainked bunion-poxed melanoma-having manual laborers with approximately 3 teeth and a kind of chitinous exoskeleton of filth encrusting all their creases. did not strike anyone as even a little bit ridonk.īack before i understood that the american cowboy is to the cozy, suburban american romance reader what the highland prince is to the cozy, british romance reader: recreational masculinity abuse. The first review i wrote for this book was a kind of encapsulation of everything i have since learned about M/M but did not know Back Then, in the days when i thought 'M/M' meant 'Male/Male' and not 'Male-ish/Male-esque.'īack when something so ludicrous as a character named Tornado being thusly christened because he could suck dick.
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