Fifty Shades of Ewww (pgs. 401-450)

I’d like to begin this post about pages 401-450 of Fifty Shades of Grey with a public service announcement:

Please do not dispose of your tampons in toilets.

I know you might be in the heat of the moment, about to bang on the floor of the bathroom, but please dispose of your tampons in the trash receptacle. Or if you’re banging in a public stall, please use that little trash container that resembles a mailbox.

Why am I bringing this up?

Just wait…

So we left off with Ana hightailing it to her mother’s house in Georgia to get away from Christian’s log ride so she can think about their arrangement with some clarity. If you need to know how we got to this point in the story and hate yourself, you can click here to read previous installments.

Ana’s exodus results in heavy email action. When I read this, I felt like I do at work when someone sends out a mass email about something non work-related like joining a volleyball league, and everyone who replies back hits “reply all” rather than “reply sender” so I have to sift through 45 emails about “I’ll do it” or “Fun! What time?” or “I’d like to volley your balls.” And you feel like replying back “Can you not reply to all of us because no one gives a shit about your smiley emoticons,” but you don’t want to be that person, the one that causes that mass email “Jeez, what’s her problem?” to be sent out, and then you have 65 more replies to sift through. And they’re all filled with frowny faces.

I could just summarize and say they email back and forth about how much they miss one another and how much Christian wants to penetrate Ana’s down there, but then you miss out on the suffering, and that’s what this BDSM relationship is all about, gentle reader.

Christian signs off, saying he has to meet someone for dinner, and Ana deduces it’s the woman who made Christian a sex slave when he was 15. Ana calls her “Mrs. Robinson” because she is clever…wait, I’m sorry, I meant the opposite of clever, which is stupid buttface.

She finally decides to Google Christian’s name, which leads to the best line thus far: Holy Cow! I’m on Google! 

Yes that is sooo very difficult. That’s why I only got 185,000 hits on a search of images for projectile vomit. You know what’s difficult? Not being on Google.

While out for drinks with her mom, Ana decides to send some more emails (!?!) about her dislike of Mrs. Robinson and how it impacts her down there:

Christian instantly replies “I see London, I see France” and it turns out the reason he can see her underpants is because he has flown to Georgia and is presently in the exact hotel bar as Ana and her mom.

That’s so creepy hot and sweet!

They murmur and pout and grit their teeth and look at their hands and arch eyebrows and glower, and sulk and tap dance and help a Nigerian prince secure freedom, and eventually head upstairs to Christian’s room to add their genital fluids to the walls of the bathroom.

Ana’s on her period. God, I’m so fortunate to know this. Aren’t you? And that’s when Christian pulls out her tampon and flings it into the toilet. Please refer to the PSA at the top of the post.

They then commence the banging. Before he mounts, he likes to say “I’m going to have you ______” and then adds the location. We learn that his member is covered in her menstrual blood…that is my little early Christmas gift to you. Now I’m going to throw up off the porch and have someone snap a picture so it can be added to the projectile vomit archive. Holy cow! I will soon be on Google!

After all the sexing, Ana feels she needs to get to know Christian better. “What’s your favorite film?” she really asks him.

The section ends with them about to go gliding–hopefully directly into a ravine.

Only one more recrap to go!


  1. i can NOT get enough with these recraps. You will have to recrap something else for us too. Maybe twilight? And may I please be Vice-CEO of Who Gives a Feck? LOOOOOOOOLLLLLL. Jesus, these kill, KILL, me. xoxo, momma

      1. I might go onto the second book. I’m still discussing it with Hugo, and then I realize Hugo is not to suppose to be able to talk to me because he is a puppet, and then I go into a whole existential crisis of who is holding the strings and then I eat ice cream and feel better.

        Bachelor Pad 3 also begins July 24th so there’s that to look forward to. Romance and herpes for everyone!

  2. So basically, the whole country is gaga over the story of a guy who is acting out the sexual abuse of his past.

    I’m not ready for your recraps to be done. Maybe pull a Twilight and break the last part into two?

    1. Yes that’s about right.

      That’s a good idea about splitting the ending into two parts. That way I can make lots of money…oh wait, I don’t get paid for this..yeah, I’ll probably end with one post.

  3. 50 Shades of Eww is RIGHT. When I got to that part, I did this strange, open-mouthed, shocked sort of laugh, where you can’t believe you’re still alive. Because this must be what hell looks like.

    1. Lenore, you so called it on the Yule Brenner thing. I watched a two-hour biopic of him on PBS several years ago — and in one swift stroke (ahem…bad word choice), you destroyed all of those beautiful images I had of Yule’s life.

    1. It’s always good if someone says something like “You wouldn’t understand…it’s too complex.” “Yeah, complex like a game, etc.”

  4. Holy crap this was the best one yet and I have the same vinyl linoleum as you do. The tampon part was just so I want to stick my finger down my throat and yak up my bean burrito. I love that you put blue dye (?) on the tampon, just like in the tampon commercials. (Because green, yellow, red and orange dyes are definitely out if you want to sell tampons.)

    Best One Yet.

    1. Between her holy cows and her craps and her double craps and her triple craps, she’s like the sphinx, you know. It’s, like, wow and crap and stuff. I can’t figure it out.

  5. I vote that you continue on to the next book too (only so I don’t have to read it but can “read” it here).

    I am still on page 150, and now I am so glad that I am! Tampons?! Bloody sex in the bathroom?! EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!

    Thank you for keeping this up, even though you are not paid for it. You brighten my days with your recaps 🙂

    1. Thank you. You can vote in the last post to keep this craptastic crapisode going.

      In case you didn’t read the comment I left on your blog, you should keep going to. I loved your take on E.L. James descriptive style of writing.

    1. I just might. I’m letting the public decide whether or not I should continue to destroy the little bit of soul I have left. You can vote in the last 50 Shades post.

  6. Period sex?!?! Because of this book’s popularity, I finally understand why Jerry Springer is a rich man. If you can stand not to gouge your eyes out with a spoon (yeah, I know that’s hot) I would certaiinly enjoy more recraps.

  7. What the actual crap? Is that the sort of thing people that’s about to become a mainstream fetish? You ladies expect that of us now, do you? Crap you, E.L. James, crap you.

  8. ‘I’ve just inserted my mouse into my anus.’
    Probably the damned most erotic crapping thing I’ve ever read in my holy shitting life. Holy riding crops, this stuff is hot.

  9. Please don’t think I’m stupid. My subconscious is, for not knowing there are more recraps for the first book in the 50 Shades of Asinine Main Characters. Why didn’t this book end at 300 something pages- no make that- why didn’t this book end- no, sorry- why was this book written?

      1. The CIA must have paid E.L. James a lot of money. Hey! Maybe I could make a living- no, the public is traumatized enough.

  10. I just LOVE the fact that she’s willing to have unprotected, not to mention painful, sex with the guy, but when he asks her when her period is, she thinks “Wow, that’s personal!” and finally, after all this (and, btw, did they give the birth control pills time to actually take effect before doing it condom-free? Like, more than 24 hours?), she finally gets around to asking something basic, like what movies he likes.

    Does she know his favorite color, or just assume it’s grey, because of his name?

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