The Secret

The Fat Lady is Singing

It’s over.

Thank jolly rancher, it is the last day of November and my final day of writing a daily post. I feel like I should celebrate.

Oh right. First I’ve got to write this goddamned post.

A few days ago, I sought out your help. I asked you to vote on a series of post ideas, and you obliged me by mostly voting to allow me to rerun a post from my seedy past.

I felt as a thank you, I would write mini-versions of all the other post ideas. The mini-versions will be performed by my favorite troup of stock photo models.

Pecan Sandies – Who the Fuck Eats These? (received 2 votes, one from my mother)

You survive and yet Twinkie is dead. Seriously these cookies are disgusting. They taste like sand. I’d actually rather eat pecans covered in sand than these.

People magazine’s Top 10 Stories of 2012 even though there’s more than a month left (3 votes)

To be fair, the top 10 stories were pretty awesome.

Full disclosure: I did not know many of the “celebrities” that did these top things. I did recognize Jessica Simpson. She had a baby. Top story #6.

My Best Spam Emails (13 votes)

Most of my wordpress spam are spambots remarking on how much they’ve learned from reading my website and like studying my articles, but sometimes these spambots can be downright hurtful.

Gigantic Greeting Cards (2 votes)

This is actually a thing.

Other (7 votes)

My bad habits from A to J – suggested by Wendy of Wendy’s Works.

Significant Udders – suggested by Adam S. of My Right to Bitch.

A book review of the The Secret – suggested by Angie Z. of Childhood Relived

And finally what happened to speakers 1 through 6 – suggested by both Laura of Unlikely Explanations and Jo Eberhardt

Fifty Shades Procrastination (Fifty Shades Freed: pgs. 251-300)

Oh boy.

So it’s been nearly two weeks since I’ve written a Fifty Shades Fuckadoodle recrap. Why is that?

Oh right because this book is the literary equivalent of a raging hemorrhoid. And like a raging hemorrhoid, this book inflames my anal cavity with the intensity of all of Jupiter’s suns combined.

Before I begin, I would like to direct readers to some truly phenomenal mockery of Fifty Shades on display at Alice at Wonderland. More people need to read this because it is the opposite of a raging hemorrhoid. Alice is currently recapping Fifty Shades Darker by interviewing E.L. James’ moronic fictional creations. For her earlier work on Fifty Shades of Grog, start here. Seriously, her recapping is so good, Hugo asked if he could work for her. Hugo believes my work has been “uninspired.” Wait–was uninspired what Hugo said?

That’s right.

I don’t even remember where I last left off (for previous recraps, go here). Likely Ana had Christian’s freakishly long fingers inside her. She might have said “Crap” or “Bloop”. Christian probably planted a flag in Ana’s down there to stake his claim. He might have even made a taxidermied hamster out of it. They most definitely muttered and murmured because no one can ever just “say” anything in this book.

Pretty much nothing happens in pages 251-300. The short summary is this: Ana buys a dress in Aspen.

The long summary is lots of sentences are written about other things. So I guess I’ll have to mention a little bit about those.

After Christian wouldn’t let Ana come, he tells her that Jack Hyde was the one who cut the brakes on the helicopter or whatever. Holy fuck. Hyde was planning on kidnapping Ana. Holy fuck. Christian thinks Detroit is the connection because both Jack and Christian were born there. Holy…pfft.

Just wait…it gets worse.

Ana wakes up to Christian having a nightmare. She soothes him with comforting words and warm milk. I’m joking. It’s a lot of peen-sticking. He tells her to “Come for me” and she does like a trained homing pigeon. Ana falls asleep then wakes up again to sad twinkle fingers on the piano.

Christian is the sad piano man because his adult wife “won’t do as she’s told. She drives me crazy. She safe-words me.” Aw, that’s sweet that he’s sad his wife called the kibosh on his emotional manipulation. He then says he dreamt she was dead, but leaves out the part where he was the one who murdered her.

The next day, Christian drives Ana to his lear jet. He has a surprise. He’s taking her to Aspen along with Kate, Elliot, Mia and Ethan. Ana dislikes the purring flight attendant because Natalia is brunette, and Ana is a raging hemorrhoid.

On the plane Kate asks questions about the Jack Hyde situation because she is as close to normal as you’re going to get in this book. Of course, Ana is all pissed off in her head at Kate’s audacity to question anything concerning Christian.

Suddenly the plane hits some major turbulence. The pilot loses control and the plane crashes into the ground.

Sorry, that did not happen. That’s just a dream of mine. I’m going to take a break for a second and play some sad piano music.

I’m back. What’s happened. Oh yes, the sextet arrives at Christian’s palatial Aspen house. Ana’s all icky-poo about being rich and having servants, and she thinkfarts Oh my, it’s so hard being rich. 

Upon entering the house, a trick wire is ignited and the house explodes.

No, that did not happen as much as I tried to will it to happen. I even bought that crappy book The Secret and tried to positive-think that into happening. Ana and the girls do girl things like shop and get paid less for the same work. Christian and the boys do boy things like fish and restrict women’s access to abortion.

Kate confides that Elliot seems distant, and Ana feigns concern, but secretly laps it up because she hates their normal relationship in light of the fact she married a walking butt plug. Mia convinces Ana to buy a dress–she refers to it as The Dress because she is a rectal sausage–that barely covers her ass, and she thinkfarts Oh, but I’m so plain and this dress makes me look like I have really long, perfect legs. I struggle so much…without Christian’s penis inside me.

The sextet eats dinner like humans do, and Elliot proposes to Kate. She accepts and then the restaurant explodes.

Sorry, more wishful thinking. They go clubbing, and Ana refers to the hostess as “Miss Satin Hot Pants” because she is Miss Asshole Face Jerkwad.

And that’s really it. An extremely necessary and illuminating 50 pages of hemorrhoid-inducing awesomeness. I should probably stock up on some Preparation H®.