Esquire recently did an interview with Clint Eastwood, in which he basically promises that he still gargles rocks and shits slabs of concrete.

I was a shy kid. But a lot of my childhood was spent punching the bullies out.

We live in more of a pussy generation now, where everybody’s become used to saying, “Well, how do we handle it psychologically?” In those days, you just punched the bully back and duked it out. Even if the guy was older and could push you around, at least you were respected for fighting back, and you’d be left alone from then on.

I don’t know if I can tell you exactly when the pussy generation started. Maybe when people started asking about the meaning of life.

I hope someday I’ll be sitting around taking pulls from my flask telling my grandkids, “Lemme tell you something, you kids, you’re all a bunch a goddamned sissies.  Back in my day, a bully pushed you around, ya dint go to no psychologist.  Ya just dyed your hair black, started wearin’ a trenchcoat, maybe got a couple a piercings.  Then one day, you showed up with a couple a pipe bombs, and daddy’s Tec-9, and you shot the bully, plus a bunch a other kids, maybe a couple teachers, just for shits and giggles.  Then you put the gun in your mouth, make sure the cops couldn’t take you alive, and leave ‘em a note written entirely in Marilyn Manson lyrics.  Those were the days you little faggots.”