terrible book

Fifty Shades Fried

If you’ve been following my saga of self-flagellation, you would know that I have reached the third book in the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy.

(If you have not been following and only clicked on this blog because you like fried shades, you can catch up here.)

Holy cow, gentle reader, it’s been…um…what can I say? Nearly as thrilling as the time I covered a greased piglet race at the county fair? Sure, why not. And those piglets were as sexy as a cup of hot crap, which incidentally you could get deep-fried.

I feel–to use the parlance of reality television– this journey™ must continue. It’s a journey fraught with obstacles. Clearly my ability to use English has suffered from this experience. Me is dummer than me was. My response to everything is “Holy cow” and just the sight of Ben & Jerry’s gives me a yeast infection, but continue on I must.

Jules of  Go Jules Go warned me the third book is not as smooth sailing as the other two. Considering there were times I would have chosen a sriracha sauce enema than read any further, I am worried I will not see this through.

But yet I am curious to see what happens to Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey. Wait, is curious the right word? I think I meant to say I am completely dead inside.

When we last left the most fantastic, incredible, beautiful, vivacious and other synonyms for dim-witted couple, they were about to legally fuse their genitalia together. Elena, Christian’s former dominant, is out of the picture, cast aside after she called Ana a lamo (WordPress autocorrected that to lamp, which also works). Ana’s former rapey boss Jack Hyde is out to get Christian and Ana, and failed to kill Christian by cutting the brakes on his helicopter or whatever implausible nonsense blah-blee-bloo.

So in this book, they should be all happy slappy, right? Well let’s find out what our two stars predict will happen:

There obviously has to be some kind of conflict, right?

Fair point. But there has to be something that happens–besides the two main characters glowering and muttering at one another and sticking things up their holes. I mean, look, this book is…578 pages long!! Are you fucking kidding me? It’s longer than the other two?!? Oh craptwat.

You know, you might be onto something, Hugo. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I really, really think it will be.

Fifty Shades Dumber (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 451-544)

This is it, gentle reader. The dark shade will be lifted and we can walk into the light together. Or at least go outside and stick a toe on a blade of grass and then run back inside and bathe in the light of the TV.

What am I blathering on about? I honestly don’t know because 10 minutes ago some fluid and brain bits streamed out of my ears when I hit the last page of Fifty Shades Darker: The Edge of Reason. I tried scooping some up and slapping it on my head, but I still feel really, really stupid. So what better time to wrap up this final recrap?

(For previous installments, click here)

Holy crap plausible plot twist! We begin on page 451 with the horrible news that Christian’s helicopter, the Charlie Tango, is missing! And it could have fallen down that well!

Ana is so upset that she can only muster a description of the flames in the fireplace as dancing and weaving “bright blazing orange with tips of cobalt blue.” She wishes she could rub her lady bits against Christian’s meat sword in front of that fire.

More reminiscing and flash-backing ensues:

We learn the many sides of Christian Grey: “control freak, CEO, stalker, sex god, Dom.” By all means, someone find him–fast!!

Then Christian appears. His family embraces him. He locks eyes with Ana and narrows them when he sees Jose holding her hand. Do you see how a near-death experience changes a fella?

We get the riveting helicopter story: fire goes bla-bloom and chopper goes wah-wah and bippety bop flop. Christian and his number 2, Ros, landed on an island with a smoke monster, and walk back to civilization. Walking was slow because Ros was wearing heels, that fucking bitch. Cell battery’s dead. Couldn’t stop to call because he figured Jose was raping Ana in his absence.

Everyone, but Jose, leaves when Christian pulls Ana into his lap like a baby.

Okay…um…weird. We’re out, Christian. Glad you’re safe, says Christian’s dad.

Jose decides to go to sleep when Christian starts thrusting his hands in Ana’s hair.  Christian wants to shower. Ana’s wrapped around him like a barnacle, and for some reason he cannot move because he’s holding his jacket. I can’t explain it, and I’ve read it three times. He won’t drop his jacket because he has the wrapped birthday present from Ana inside it.  He opens it, and it’s a key chain from Oriental Trading Company that reads “Butt Plug of the Year.”

“Turn it over,” Ana whispers.

On the back, it says “Yes.” Ana has accepted his marriage proposal, and it’s just as lame as expected. They head to the shower and talk about expectations as a married couple.

I’m joking. They bathe in their bodily fluids.

Christian remarks how the keychain is better than some signed kick boxer poster he has. Wow, what a compliment. I think I’ll tell my husband I like my engagement ring better than that Call of Duty™ throw rug I almost won at a county carnival.

Next morning Ana makes Christian breakfast. Jose is already there masturbating into his oatmeal. They have a normal conversation about Ana’s great love for Christian, and then Christian shows up and I’ll let Ana describe him:  “Holy fuck, he’s wearing only pajama bottoms that hang in that totally hot way off his hips.” I understand most of the general public wears its pants around its collective neck so that does sound hot. He swaggers around and freely sprays pee to mark his territory. Jose passes on breakfast after Christian pees on the omelette.

Christian asks about Jose’s plans. Jose is going fishing with his dad and Ana’s step dad Ray. Jose and Christian bond over men stuff like man caves and war. Ana thinks: “They’re talking fishing. What is it about fishing. I have never understood it.” Well Ana, fishing is a sport that entails the use of poles and bait to attract fish. Fish live in water. Humans live on land. Sometimes humans eat fish.

Jose leaves, and Ana wants to give Christian his other two present because “(t)he thought of my present is burning a whole in my consciousness.” That might need medical attention. That sounds like an aneurysm.  The second present is a toy solar-powered helicopter. He sets it in the sun and the rotors start to spin.

“Look at that. What we can already do with this technology,” Christian murmurs in awe. I have a feeling Christian would be impressed by one of those matchbook-sized sponges that expand into a full-size sponge when you dunk it in water. The things we can do with technology these days.

Ana wonders if Christian’s helicopter, the Charlie Tango is salvageable. Christian hopes so because he misses her. And Ana predictably feels jealous of a mode of transportation.

The next present is an eye mask, nipple clamps, a solar-powered butt plug and a key to the red room of pain. Christian asks if there’s anything Ana won’t do, and she says she wants no photos, eluding to the box of illicit photographs she found. The butt plug she chose was too big, another one is too small, but Christian’s pinky finger is jusssssssst right! Ana gasps “Fingers. . . there?” Yes a butt plug is just so normal, but a finger? Heavens to betsy!

Christian chooses a different set of nipple clamps, and Ana frowns thinking he knows just so much more than her. She only out bests him in cooking. Well dang, woman, you’re a woman. What did you expect? You might also be better at sewing and getting paid less, so buck up!

Ana notices all the canes have vanished from the room. She wonders if Mrs. Jones the housekeeper removed them to be polished along with the silver. Christian cuffs and blindfolds her.

He pours oil over her and has her suck on a pacifier-shaped butt plug that vibrates. He inserts the plug in her hoo-hoo and sticks his finger in her butt. They do it again and Ana has another epiphany of the many shades of Christian Grey. . . “the sweet, gentle persona, his rugged, I-can-do-what-I-fucking-well-like-to-you-and-you’ll-come-like-a-train Dominant side–his fifty shades–all of him.”

I’m beginning to see many sides to author E.L. James. The I-just-write-whatever-pops-in-my-head-and-people-will-lap-it-up-like-a-big-pail-of-dirty-butt-plug-cleaning-fluid writer and the shitty writer.

Lots of filler. Ana makes dinner. Christian thinks her skirt is too short. He calls Ray and asks for Ana’s hand. Ray is skeptical but thinks Christian is a nice guy and knows fishing.

And more filler. Christian asks Ana why she brought up taking photos before he greased her butt crack, and she mentions finding his stash of photographs. He said they’re for insurance so his subs won’t expose him. “The penny drops and rattles uncomfortably around and around in my empty head.” Explains so much about Ana.

She bakes him a cake. He says it’s evocative. Oh yes, the crack whore birth mom baked. How…nice?

They head to a birthday party at Christian’s parent’s house. Kate makes a beeline for the couple, and snarls she needs to talk to them. She has read the email Ana sent with questions about the BDSM contract. Ana is pissed at Kate for being concerned because she is in an abusive relationship lurve and that contract was, like, so two weeks ago.  Old news, yo. Kate actually apologizes to them. And to Christian twice because she is a terrible friend to question his desire to control Ana’s body, mind and spirit.

Party time. Elena’s there. And the blonde server who wants to serve up her vagina to Christian. Ros is there as well, but she is the only non-related woman who doesn’t salivate over Christian’s elephant penis…and that’s because she’s a lesbian. Yup.

Christian makes his big announcement:

Both Ana and Christian are pissed when his sister Mia asks about a ring and a date. Yes, what completely inappropriate questions. These two butt plugs are made for each other.

Dr. Flynn is there too with his wife. “Glad you’re still with us, Christian,” Dr. Flynn says. “My life would be most dull–and penurious–without you.” Does anyone else get the sense that E.L. James wrote this with a giant thesaurus on her lap? It just seems so..um..penurious? And..um…dum. I need to get a thesaurus.

Elena confronts Ana and begins to assume the persona of a police officer in a third-rate cop show. “Not so fast missy… You’re making a big mistake here lady.” When Elena calls Ana a “mousy little gold digger,” Ana throws a drink in her face. Christian turns up and Elena wants to be the only vaginal-ball-wearer in his life. Christian’s mom overhears the whole exchange and kicks Elena out. Ana makes a beeline for Christian’s bedroom and gathers up the courage to look at the photograph of his crack whore birth mother.

Phew! She is so not prettier than me, Ana thinks.

Christian finds her and they talk about Ana’s need to eat. Oh thank god, I was hoping that would come up again since it never comes up except all the time.

He takes her to the same boathouse where he angrily pounded her when she wouldn’t let him finger her at the dinner table. This time, the boathouse is filled with flowers and he gives her a ring.

It’s not the end though.

The whole book is from Ana’s first-person perspective, i.e., the penny rolling around in an empty head, but now we switch gears to third person from the perspective of a mysterious man who is clearly Jack Hyde. He is sitting outside the Grey mansion in his car.

Things we learn:

  • He tampered with the helicopter
  • Grey’s a prick and doesn’t know jack shit. (I think that’s a clue!!)
  • Mystery man was from the gutter end of Detroit
  • Ana’s a little bitch.
  • Mystery man’s ribs still hurt from the rib-kicking from the prick’s henchmen.
  • Grey is a mother fucker who will get it good.
  • I do not want to read the third book.

Fifty Mood Swings (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 401-450)

Ana calls Christian with the news of her promotion in the beginning of pages 401-450 of Fifty Shades Darker: Meet the Fockers. She worries that he pulled a few strings since he orchestrated the take over of the publishing company, but he is as surprised as the rest of the universe.  

(If you feel the need to torture yourself and want to know how we get to this point, click here)

Apparently Jack really rated me,” Ana tells Christian.

Do you mind if we pause for a second, gentle reader?

First, I don’t know what that means. Did Jack give Ana a movie review of two dongs up? Second, Jack was fired the previous night for trying to attack Ana. I’m just thinking that’s the reason based on the fact that Jack tried to blackmail Ana into sex and then Christian had him fired. Does anyone else find it strange that Jack’s opinion of Ana–oh excuse me, rating of Ana–would be influential in her promotion?

Well Bob, Jack gave Ana, like, five stars on that rating card. 

Hmmm you don’t say, Bill? Wow, that’s fantastic as crap. Who’s Jack again?

Bob, Jack’s the guy we just fired for attempted sexual assault.

Ooh, bummer, Bill, but I guess we should still take his judgement into consideration.

Let’s continue. Christian becomes frosty for one second then caring the next second then pissed the third second and then loving the last second. A toddler hyped up on pixie sticks is more even-keeled than Christian Grey.

Ana forgets she made a lunch date with Christian’s sister Mia. Kate’s brother Ethan turns up conveniently and Ana foists Mia off on him by giving him the “biggest-bluest-longest-eyelashed look.” How is this book popular? Seriously world. I’m giving you the biggest-stinkiest-hairest-eyeballiest hairy eyeball look.

Christian sends her roses and emails something insinuating he wants to fuck outdoors. Fantastic.

Next up is the meeting with Christian’s therapist Dr. Flynn. Ana is pissed that the female receptionist greets Christian warmly. Ana says the office has the atmosphere of a “gentlemen’s club” so I take that to mean strippers and sticky chairs and floor.

Ana wants to talk to Dr. Flynn in private, and Christian is very accommodating of that. Just kidding. He pouts and acts surly like he does 95 percent of the time.

Dr. Flynn explains he’s using the therapy SFBT–Super Fun Butt Teasers for the lay person. Christian has a lot to deal with like his haphephobia, Dr. Flynn explains. Ana immediately thinks Dr. Flynn is talking gay stuff and is relieved when she learns it means fear of being touched because she is the worst.

Dr. Flynn now addresses Ana’s central issue–her brain stem not connecting to her spinal cord Christian’s sadism.

People change, is basically what Dr. Flynn says. “After all what you’re asking for is not unreasonable,” he says. Ana flushes and thinks No, it’s not unreasonable, is it? I just slammed my head into the dining room table, gentle reader, but I’m okay.

Then she digs out this chestnut: “Part of me thinks if he wasn’t broken he wouldn’t want to be with me.” Yikes. Seriously, yikesville.

Before Dr. Flynn can sign Ana up for a year’s worth of sessions with Stuart Smalley, Christian comes back in glaring at both of them, and then perks up and says “Let’s go celebrate your promotion.”

She wants to drive to their celebration, and he doesn’t want her to, but she does want to and this fight goes on and on while the theme song from The Itchy & Scratchy Show plays on repeat in my head. She drives and then pulls over so she can look at him while they talk about Dr. Flynn. They fight and glare and smolder. Then Christian drives fightely.

We’re treated to this very necessary observation:

“Whoa. I’ve never heard him sing, not even in the shower, ever. I frown. He has a lovely voice–of course. Hmm…has he heard me sing?”

WhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhyThanks!

They arrive at a house. A woman opens the door and predictably flushes when she touches Christian. Were you aware that Christian Grey is the finest specimen of shit bag on the planet? Ana sees the “biggest rug I’ve ever seen.” Mmm. Tell me more. Ana looks out the window and my eyes begin to bleed into the cerulean sky as I read this: “Vermilion hues bleed into the cerulean sky, with opals and aquamarines, and meld with the darker purples of the scant wispy clouds and the land beyond the Sound.”

Dear E.L. James,

Never try to describe a sunset again. Just write: The view was neat.

Sincerely,

The earth

Christian wants to buy the house for them.  “Christian you had me at cock ring meadow,” Ana platitudes. Christian is so happy “his hands are suddenly thrusting into (Ana’s) hair.” What is it with the hair fisting and thrusting?

More celebrating at the Mile-High Club, which Christian owns, obvs. He tells Ana to take off her panties. She does in the bathroom while her inner goddess struts around in a pink feather boa, diamonds and fuck-me shoes.

Okay.

She sits next to him, and he alternates between rubbing his thighs and feeding her oysters. He refuses to touch her. This is “sexy.” Ana assumes the mating position by raising her rear quarters and unleashing a torrent of spray, but Christian still won’t touch her.

He wants her to eat. Surprise! She doesn’t want to because she’s hungry for some grey bologna.

She tries to seduce him by eating asparagus and having her urine smell musty, but he rips it from her hands. “(Ana) feels like a child who has been denied candy.”

Excuse me for one sec…I just need to puke a little.

When she finishes her plate, Christian says “Good girl.” Pause again. Just some stomach bile this time.

Then he finger bangs her in the elevator with a bunch of people around. It’s just dry heaves. I have nothing left to bring up.

Christian wants to cock bang at home, but worries they’ll only make it as far as the car. Ana wants to get the gear shift implanted in her butt, and Christian feigns horror at her audacity. And then this completely comprehensible exchange happens:

“‘I’ve never had sex in the car,’ I mumble. Christian halts and places those same fingers (ewwww) under my chin, tipping my head back and glaring down at me.

‘I’m very pleased to hear that. I have to say I’d be very surprise, not to say mad, if you had.’

I flush, blinking up at him. Of course; I’ve only had sex with him. I frown.

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘What did you mean?’ His tone is unexpectedly harsh.

‘Christian, it was just an expression.'”

So that was normal, right?

Now they’re in the apartment. He’s about to plow, and she’s “aware that the usual vase of flowers is missing. Huh?” And that is so relevant because….um..

Then there’s just some good love making. He yells at her “Open your eyes!” and when she doesn’t comply quickly enough, he thrusts “sharply into (her) so that (she) cries out.”

“I blink my eyes open, and he stares down at me wide-eyed. Slowly he withdraws, then sinks into me once more, his mouth slackening and then forming an Ah.” For some reason, this scene reminds me of A Clockwork Orange:

This is “sexy.”

The next day, Ana thinks of another birthday present for Christian. She goes into his closet for one of his ties and finds a box of illicit photographs from the red room of pain. That woman with the genital clamp on her face is so much prettier than me, Ana thinks.

Vermilion ones bleed with cerulean zeros into a meld of words and sentences sent through the darkest purples of cables into the opal networks and aquamarine BlackBerry devices of Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele. Or they send each other emails.

Christian doesn’t reply to the last missive about whether one can really look at clouds from both sides now. Ana begins to worry, and worryingly has drinks with Jose and some other people.

I’m worried I won’t finish this book because of the vomiting.

Fifty Types of Butt Plugs (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 351-400)

We begin pages 351-400 of Fifty Shade Darker: Porky’s Revenge with author E.L. James’ favorite literary device–the email exchange.

(To find out how we got to this incredible email exchange, start here)

Ana and Christian email how much they want to boink each other, but then Christian starts to emphatically insist Ana use her BlackBerry to email rather than her work computer while he continues to send emails to her work email address. Normally I would ignore this in the same way I ignore references to Christian’s battering ram-sized pee-pee and Ana’s complaints about not being pretty–but this comes up later.

Jose calls to say he’s delivering Christian’s pictures of Ana and is looking for a place to crash. How will Christian like that? Ana wonders after hanging up the phone. Boooo.

Ana’s boss Jack Hyde is acting as if he caught his dong in a drawer. He snaps and demands coffee and breaks his “World Greatest Boss” mug.

Kate’s brother Ethan calls and asks how Ana’s doing. “A quick montage of images flashes through my mind–Christian kneeling, his revelation, his proposal, macaroni and cheese, my weeping, his nightmare, the sex, touching him.” Even better if the montage was set to the tune Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen.

Ana sits in Starbucks, puts in her earbuds, hits repeat on the song “Smell Yo Dick” and ponders whether she should marry Christian:

He still needs to learn boundaries and little things like empathy, and to be less controlling, Ana thinks. Is that all? Then by all means, take the plunge.

She’s late getting back to work, and Jack’s eyes almost blaze a hole through her head. He growls at her to stay late. When she complies, he tries to attack her:

He delivers the type of soliloquy normally reserved for the villains in Scooby Doo cartoons. He talks about checking through her email and seeing emails sent by her to Christian Grey, but nothing sent back. Are you a spy? he wonders. He goes on to say he expected gratitude for giving her a job, and if Ana puts out, he won’t dig in further into how her boyfriend’s pulling strings, milking contracts or cashing in some favor from one of his Ivy League frat-boy sycophants.

Huh? When did this turn into an episode of Melrose Place?

What can I do? Ana wonders.  This news of Christian’s takeover of the company is embargoed for three weeks.

Wha?

I feel like I don’t understand English. What is happening exactly? Can’t he just attack her because he’s gross…what is with this faux intrigue that makes no sense?

“Listen you tight-assed cock-blocking bitch! I know you have the antidote, but it’s mine, you prick-teasing bitch. Mine! And if you don’t give it to me, I will detonate the dynamite strapped to your vaginal balls” he spits fire.

Okay most of that I made up except for the words in bold. Those are gems from E.L. James herself. Ana knees Jack in the crotch, runs outside and collapses on the sidewalk because she hasn’t eaten anything. Of course.

Christian and his man servant Taylor run up to her. And get this–Christian is pissed. She tells him what happened, the near rape and bad dialogue, and he is pissed. At her.

And then he gets pissier during this exchange:

“‘Christian, he has my emails.’

‘What?’

‘My emails to you. He wanted to know where your emails to me were. He was trying to blackmail me.’

Christian’s look is murderous.

Oh shit.

‘Fuck!’ he sputters and narrows his eyes at me.”

Have they not read the same emails that I have? They basically email how much they want to entwine their genitalia or about other things too dull to recall. How is this blackmail worthy?

She begs him not to be mad at her!?!

“‘I told you to use your fucking BlackBerry. Don’t talk to me about stupid. Get in the motherfucking car Anastasia–NOW!’ he snarls and a frisson of fear runs through me. This is Very Angry Christian. I’ve not seen him this mad before. He’s barely holding on to his self control.”

Better not let that one get away!

Jack leaves the building with his belongings because he was shitcanned. “And I woulda gotten away with it, if it weren’t for those meddling kids,” Jack tells the security guard.

Christian’s surly and pouty in the car and only talks to her when they enter the elevator. His “hands fist” in her hair (ow!) and he jams his tongue down her throat. “If anything ever happened to you…”

Psycho…I mean, *sigh*.

They eat dinner and Ana requests permission to see her friend Jose. Boooooo. More arguing because this is such a Sweet Love Story™.

Christian has to do some man work such as pushing a boulder or raping a chicken. Ana, bored without anything up her cooch, wanders around the house and into the red room of pain. She looks through some drawers and finds Christian’s stash of butt plugs. Of course, Christian shows up because he can hear a butt plug pop from 20 yard away. Ana worries again if he’s mad.

He sounds fun.

Instead he gives her a tutorial on butt plugs, anal beads and nipple clamps. Ahhh, takes me back to 6th grade health class. For complete coverage, click on the audio.

This tutorial makes dark desire pool in Ana’s groinal region. Granted pretty much everything including mayonnaise being spread on a hamburger bun makes dark desire pool in Ana’s fun tunnel, but she really wants to bang some butt plugs together in the red room of pain:

Christian can’t–his eyes cloud with cataracts (seriously, his eyes cloud all the time. That can’t be good?)–Ana left him the last time he flayed her skin with a belt while in the red room. Yes, it was the red room not his beating her that was the problem.  They take the spreader bar and spread ’em in the bedroom.

Lots of arrghhing and slamming.

Next day, Ana’s all worried about her job. Christian lets her drive her new Saab to work. Boyfriend of the Year, am I right ladies? He’s in the passenger seat because she’s a dame and if she gets her period she will attract bears and then possibly crash her car into a Baskin Robbins.

She arrives at work and is immediately called into Jack’s boss’s office. She thinks she’s going to be fired, but instead she is asked to fill in as Jack’s replacement because with being a recent college graduate, having one week job experience and spending the majority of that time emailing her boyfriend about sexy time though the company email, she is obviously the best fit for the job.

I think the words “shrewd mind” were used, and I laughed so hard my butt plug popped out.

Fifty Shocking Revelations!?! (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 301-350)

Holy cow!

Lots of revelations in pages 301-350 of Fifty Shades Darker: Bride of Chucky. Crap! I just soiled my pants again. Third time since I started this post. That’s because the revelations are just sooooo revelatory. It’s just like in the film The Sixth Sense when we find out M. Night Shyamalan will go on to make a series of terrible movies. Except that one where the trees cause people to stick knives in their faces…no, I’m sorry that was also really, really bad.

(For previous recraps, click here)

So strap on some Depends® because shit just got 60 shades darker. And I don’t even know what that means!?!

Remember Leila? And the “danger”? Yeah, I didn’t either, but holy crap suspense! She’s, like, in Ana’s apartment.

What?

No seriously, the phone call is coming from inside the house. Inside the house! So Ana goes to her apartment to pick up her roommate’s brother, and she gets buzzed inside. But it isn’t her roommate’s brother. It’s Leila.

And Leila’s got a gun.

I’ll give you a second to process that and also change into fresh pair of Depends®. You know what? You might as well forgo the adult diaper and just lay a piece of tarp on the floor to catch the freely flowing defecation.

You ready?

Ana’s hair follicles tighten with terror when she sees Leila. Ana might want to see a doctor because that is a very bizarre physiological reaction–if she survives this incredibly plausible ordeal. Oh my god! This is, like, so tense and crap.

Leila looks like the little girl from The RingShe speaks in sing song and wonders why Ana looks like her and “Why does Master like us like this. . . Master is dark.”

See? That’s why it’s called Darker Shades of Glop.

Christian bursts through the door, and Ana feels the “charge” between Christian and Leila and gets all jealous and refuses to leave because what if he kisses Leila and stuff?

And then Christian orders his man servant to carry Ana out and drive her back to his apartment, and Ana’s all like….Whaatttt!!! He loves Leila! Because she is clearly a giant, fucking idiot and has the emotional depth of a Hot Pocket®.

Ana instead gets her drink on with her roommate’s brother.

She finally goes back to Christian’s apartment for the showdown of the century. This is just as tense as the time Kim Kardashian got her butt x-rayed to prove it was a real butt.

Ana says “Look you clearly like stringy sewer rats and I’m not as good as that.” Christian says “No” and shakes his head and says “No” and clenches his jaw and says “No” and bends his knee and says “No” and squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that eyeball fluid flows down his cheeks.

And then he becomes a submissive.

Huh?

Just go with it, okay. It makes perfect sense.

It does?

Um…yes.

So Ana and her three brain cells have to get him back. She twirls her vagina in his face, but that doesn’t seem to work.

So she opts for confession:

“I just don’t get why (you) like me.”

So, so complex…if one was a 7th grader.

He snaps out of it because E.L. James needs him to, and he explains why he wanted Ana to leave him alone with Leila, which was understood by the rest of the planet when it first initially happened.

Big confession time. This is almost as earth shattering as the time that one Bachelor chose that one person on The Bachelor VIIMCII and everyone was, like, her?

“I’m a sadist, Ana. I like to whip little brown-haired girls like you because you all look like the crack whore–my birth mother,” Christian says.

Jeez, that’s going to make Christian’s sub/dom 2012 reunion super awkward, you guys!

Ana’s all like, does he think his crack whore birth mom is prettier than me?

Then he asks her to marry him.

Zzzzzzzz….

Are you even listening anymore.

Whoops! I meant to say, what?

Yup. And honestly what gal could say no to: “I like to beat girls who resemble my crack whore birth mother. Marry me”?

Ana says she needs some time to process. Christian asks if she’s hungry and his “eyes frost” when she confesses to not eating. I love the whole eating stuff, it’s just so stuff and stuff, you know what I’m saying and stuff?

He gets her to eat macaroni and cheese, which she calls “nursery food” because she’s an asshole. Then Ana decides she wants to know what Christian did with Leila.

He gave her a bath and packed her off to a mental institution. Ana freaks out about the naked bathness. This is the straw that broke the vaginal ball’s back. To hear it in all it’s crap glory, click on the audio: 

Ana goes to bed and then wakes up and thinks Crapballs then she hears Christian screaming. He’s having a nightmare. He lets her touch his chest and they rub genitalia.

Ana says she wants to talk to his therapist about Christian’s private therapy sessions. “Sure, why not?” Christian says.

Ana gets to work late and her boss Jack Hyde is a pissy shitbag.

And that’s where its ends. So much, so much to process. So much feces to clean up, thank god for the tarp, right?

Will Ana marry Christian? Will Christian be able to overcome his desire to beat brunettes who look like his crack whore birth mom? Will Ana get to work on time the next day?

Fifty Pages of Emails (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 251-300)

Halfway there gentle reader. Halfway there. Would it be problematic to say Fifty Shades Darker: Honey I Blew Up the Kids (thanks Angie) ends at page 300?

I think at this point we can guess that Christian Grey will fill up Anastasia Steele’s tank with high octane semen. They will send email that will make you wish humans were never given the gift of communication. And Ana will think thoughts that show she has the emotional maturity of a stinky fart.

For more stinky farts, check out these past recraps here.

Okayokayokayokay pages 251-300 here we go….Ana’s at work recuperating from a weekend of sailing and screwing. And now we get the emails that contribute nothing to the story but everything to the downfall of civilization.

So this goes on until archaeologists uncover my desiccated corpse in the year 3012.

Ana’s sleaze ball boss Jack Hyde sends her out for lunch, and Ana feels like she’s being watched–which she is, by Christian’s hench men. Love? Yeah, this ain’t it.

Christian gets all shouty in the phone because she’s not allowed to be in the open because of the “danger” posed by Leila.  And she’s like “poop” and hangs up. Jack says she has to work late and looks at her lecherously because every man wants Ana. Is that not clear? Try to keep up.

They work late. Jack tries to “accidentally” smoosh his body into hers.

So they continue to engage in realistic dialogue for adult human beings, and he says “You like your boyfriend?” And Ana’s vagina engorges just at the thought of Christian’s Twizzler®-like fingers poking into her. “I love him,” she breathes.  “What’s his surname?” Jack asks using terminology that normal adult human beings employ in normal conversations. Of course Ana flushes because she has a fire in her pants and says “Grey, Christian Grey.” And Jack puts his erection away and dissolves into a puddle. “I’m melting,” he shrieks. “I’m melting.”

Ana leaves work and gets into a car with Christian. They breathe and mutter and anger at each other. They then hump in the elevator:

If you would like to experience the elevator grind in greater detail, click on this audio:

Now they’re in Christian’s apartment. They say boring things and suddenly Christian’s man servant announces Elena is on her way. Elena is surprised to see Ana there and I like unsweetened tea, which is just as relevant to the story as anything else.

She’s there because she’s being ransomed.

Sure, why not?

And that is what happens. Ana eavesdrops. Christian goes on and on about how she’s his future, but he’s unworthy. And I once had a cat named Raffles and when he died I got a second cat and named him Raffles the Second.

Ana goes to sleep and wakes up and finds Christian playing a melancholy song on the piano. I feel like this has happened before, maybe 400 other times, but it’s still really powerful. Or not. Not at all, actually.

Hey guess what? They pound the piano keys whilst pounding into each other. Christian says something really creepy about not letting her come because she argued with him or some such grossness.

Ana feels like she doesn’t know much about Christian. Like, she doesn’t know if he would, like, drink tea at night or stuff. And then, like, I realize I don’t know, if, like, my husband would do that either. And I’m like whoa.

She tries to get more info out of him with some stealthy questions. “Do you have any happy memories of your childhood?”

“I recall the crack whore baking.”

Betty Crocker–I think you found your next marketing slogan.

Fifty Pages of A Lot of Nothing (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 201-250)

Christian Grey buys Anastasia Steele a Saab to replace the vandalized Audi. If you want to know how the Audi was vandalized or who the bleep are Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele, click here.

They eat seafood chowder, drink beer and blather about topics no human is interested in at some pub on the marina.

They sail in Christian’s yacht. They drop anchor in a secluded bay and bang in the master bedroom.

They head back to the marina and eat dinner at a little Italian bistro next to the pub. Ana orders risotto. We don’t find out what Christian orders–Fuck! That’s going to be driving me crazy all day. More great conversation:

They drive back to Christian’s apartment. Christian’s tense because he’s worried about Leila still. They grind in the elevator. Ana flirts with Christian’s man servant Taylor and Christian sulks in the corner and sucks his thumb. They bicker about Ana going to work because of the “danger”.

They play a game of pool in the billiards room, and make a bet. If Ana wins, she gets a romp in the red room of pain. If Christian wins, he gets to do whatever. Christian wins. He spanks her with a ruler, and sticks his flesh pool cue in her flesh billiard pocket.

That’s all that happened, and somehow E.L. James manage to stretch that out for 50 excruciating pages, pages 201-250 to be specific. There is a conversation about car models and car colors. There is a lengthy passage describing the interior of the yacht. Everything is “all pale wood” and there are doors and steps and walls and air and atoms that become molecules and deep, fucking despair on my part. You would have to read it to believe it.

And that’s why I made you this. This audio track takes an excerpt from pages 213-216 if you want to follow along with your copy. Just to give you some background, they’ve taken six years of my life to get on the goddamn yacht named The Grace and now are finally fucking sailing it because jesus christ, who gives a shit:

https://speaker7.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/fiftyshadesdarkerpg213.m4a

Mother, May I Sleep with Fifty Shades? (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 151-200)

Jeezus cripes, gentle reader. What can I say about pages 151-200 of Fifty Shades Darker: Freddy vs. Jason that could possibly be better than this:

akt by Rainer Augur

This is “art” inspired by Fifty Shades. I’m not sure if the green swirly stuff in the groin area is suppose to be Ana’s face, a member of the Na’vi tribe or Nickelodeon slime. I had to edit out the erect peen because this is a family-friendly blog (it is?).

I was going to end the recrap here, but then you would miss out on this sentence:

“Leila–the girl who looks like me–that’s the most startling image my brain conjures for conjecture, that and her eerie presence in Christian’s bedroom.”

Say what, now?

Okay, let’s get through this. Lemme first down an entire bottle of Benadryl. If you wish to understand my pain, you can start at the beginning.

Christian and Ana are in Christian’s childhood bedroom. He ties Ana up with his bow tie and spanks her. Let’s forget that Ana hates spanking because character consistency is, like, so crap. She “comes and comes” and then they clam dive. They return to the charity event just in time for the auction dance.  Dance dance revolution. The man who engaged in the bidding war for Ana’s addled brain asks for a dance. Turns out it’s Christian’s therapist Dr. Flynn.

Why not?

Ana’s nervous because she’s afraid he will diagnose her with erythrophobia–pathological blushing.  I don’t mention it in every recap, but Ana blushes furiously, bites her lip, and looks at her hands or fingers every three sentences. Christian curls his lips, flashes or mists his eyes and extends his talon-like fingers every four sentences.

Ana thinks big thoughts: “Why is Christian so fucked up? Why did (Flynn) bid on me? That’s the only thing I want to ask him, but somehow that seems rude.”

Okay.

They have a weird conversation because everyone in this book is a giant weirdo.

The ethical doc says he cannot tell Ana about Christian. “Besides, we need until Christmas.”

Ana gets all blushily huffy: “You’ve just confirmed what I’ve been saying to Christian. . . that you’re an expensive charlatan.”

I probably don’t need to point out that she has never said anything remotely like that to Christian.

I’m beginning to wonder if the author E.L. James has ever had a conversation with a real human being or has she gleaned her knowledge of human interaction from viewing Ed Wood movies and marathons of The Real Housewives of New Jersey?

Potty time. On the way there, Ana runs into a masked stranger who desperately wants to talk to her. Let’s just forget that a crazy woman is after Ana and a team of security guards are watching Ana’s every move and let this interaction take place, ‘kay?

It is Elena, Christian’s former dom.

Another bizarre interaction. Christian loves you, Elena tells Ana. “But what I want to say if you hurt him again, I will find you, lady, and it won’t be pleasant when I do.”

Wha the fuh?

This is starting to resemble a big Lifetime Original Movie. Ana’s in lurve with a mysterious, wealthy man she knows little about. She’s in danger!?! Crazy exes are threatening her!?!

They head home. Christian wants Ana to get some sleep so her down there is well rested for its gynecological visit the next day. Ana sulks.

“‘Its my body,’ (Ana) mutters annoyed that he hadn’t asked (her).

‘It’s mine, too’ he whispers.”

*swoon*

They arrive and–oh no!–someone’s slashed the tires and thrown paint all over Ana’s car. The security team fears the person is inside Christian’s apartment. Christian enters against the security team’s wishes to fight off the intruder with his giant green-swirly peen. Nothing happens except it’s really, like, tense and stuff. Or not.

Later, Ana wakes up disoriented and think she sees a figure at the edge of the bed. She finds Christian. They want to penvag and head back to the bedroom and–oh no!–the balcony door is open. Nothing happens except it’s really, like, tense and stuff. Or not.

Ana and Christian hightail it to a hotel. They register under an assumed name. The female hotel clerk is so turned on by Christian, her hands shake. She inserts the card key into her vag and hands it to Christian. That last bit didn’t really happen, but it’s just as believable.

Ana makes an insightful observation seeing a women in the lobby feeding a tiny dog. “So, the hotel allows pets? Odd for a place so grand!”

Not unnecessary at all.

So, they screw in the hotel room? Odd for a book filled with pointless screwing!

Christian watches Ana sleep in an Edward Cullenesque way. The obgyn comes and berates Ana for stopping the pill, and says she could be pregnant. My mind is very foggy, but I think Ana started taking the pill 10 days ago and Christian wears condoms and I don’t care.

She’s not pregnant, but she’s pissy and sulky and won’t tell Christian what’s wrong and is all passive aggressive about it until she finally tells him and I don’t care.

“My natural inclination is to beat it out of you, but I seriously doubt you want that,” he says.

What a guy.

They splooge.

Christian says he’s nothing and I don’t care, but Christian’s in lurve with Ana and I don’t care.

“It’s such a liberating realization, as if a crushing millstone has been tossed aside,” thinks Ana.

What the fuck?

Ana has transformed him with her ice-cream vag and sophisticated lexicon (“fart blossomy crap nugget”).

More thinking Arby’s®.

And zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Fifty Euphemisms for Sexy Time (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 101-150)

These recraps are becoming way too long. I normally write 500-word posts, and these recraps of Fifty Shades Darker: Return to the Blue Lagoon are topping 1,000.

I need to find some way to condense the fingering, swirling, licking, thrusting, uncurling belly desire, nipple-tugging, hissing, argghhhing, wetness-identifying, and sightless climaxing into a couple words.

Splooging? Clam diving? Turtle dancing? Thinking Arby’s®? Penvaging (a combo of penis and vagina)? Hmmm…I’m not feeling it. Please let me know which is your fav in the comments or if you can come up with something better, I will send you this autographed picture of Hugo. This recrap summarizes pages 101-150. If you want to read all the previous times of turtle dancing, click here.

I would like to include a fantastic summary of the second Shades book that was left in the comments by Jo Eberhardt of The Happy Logophile, a great blog that is not about turtle dancing:

“Hold on. I actually just feel the need to clarify the plot of the book. (besides the obviously craptastic sex, I mean.) So… Leila wants Christian (like all women), but he kicked her to the curb. So she left her husband, hooked up with another guy, the other guy died in a car accident, so Leila went to Christian’s place to slit her wrist, failed to die, saw an unidentified photo of Ana on the internet, used her psychic powers to track Ana down, picked up a gun and a concealed weapons licence from a box of cereal, and now plans to kill Ana?”

Yup.

Christian brings Ana to his house so she’s safe although that is the very place Leila  turned up so…good idea? She gets a haircut from a stylist named Franco. He speaks with an Italian accent: “My work ‘ere is done.” Hmm. I’m guessing he’s from the same part of Italy as Eliza Doolittle?

Ana’s mad. About what, I don’t know, because now I’m drinking. Not alcohol, mind you, Windex®. Ana pouts and acts in a generally childish manner, and I begin to wonder if E.L. James hates Ana as much as I do. Oh, she’s mad about the whole privacy invasion. Christian does background checks on all his submissives. He has a dossier with her birth certificate, social security number, employment records, etc.,–your normal boyfriend stuff. Romance!

But Christian gets Ana to lighten up by grinding his genitals against hers and this goes on so long that 16 years have passed and my son has graduated high school and I miss it. I give him this sad little “You go, sport” balloon in the shape of a football, and he takes it and says “Who are you?”

Other highlights:

Ana draws on Christian in lipstick to signify the no-touch zones on his back and chest. He doesn’t like to be touched there because his crack whore birth mom’s pimp used to extinguish his cigarettes on Christian. Then they think Arby’s® because nothing gets a girl hotter than child abuse:

Christian drops his semen-filled condom on the bedroom floor.

Ew.

Ana and Christian dress to attend a fancy schmancy charity event at his parent’s home. Christian wants Ana to wear vaginal balls. He gets out his Play-doh factory to make some. It’s a masked ball so the vaginal balls have little masks that make them resemble Angry Birds®.

At the ball, Mia, Christian’s pomeranian-puppy-like shrieking sister, introduces Ana to her friends. Most of the women are mindless, one is a total bitch–like all women, fellas. Am I right? Up top.

We get the whole fucking menu. The whole fucking menu!

Jesus christ, we get the entire list of items to be auctioned off too? Awesome.

What, we don’t get which person got which coat check number? Bummer.

The balls roll around in Ana’s down there. She wants to splooge bad. She asks Christian to escort her to the porto-potty for some hot, smelly clam diving, but Mia takes her instead. Ana delivers the vaginal balls into the toilet and tapes a segment of I Didn’t Know I Had Vaginal Balls, a spin-off of TLC’s  I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant Until the Baby Plopped Headfirst into the Toilet.

During the auction, Ana makes the winning bid on a weekend stay in Christian’s sex shack in Aspen. Christian’s pissed because women be thinking too much. *actual line coming up* “I don’t know whether to worship at your feet or spank the living shit out of you.”

*sigh*

Ana, horny as a clam-diving turtle, opts for the latter because she is still numb from the vaginal balls and scraping her salad fork in her nether regions did not result in her release.

Uh-oh. It’s still auction time, although this auction resembles more of a livestock auction. Women are auctioned off for milk production abilities dancing. Most women go for a couple thousand, but not Ana Rose Steele. Christian gets into a bidding war with some unnamed character and buys Ana for $100,000. The bitch girl from before says bitchingly “What the fuck?” Ana’s like I’m all that and a bag of vaginal balls.

Meanwhile, the ghost of Susan B. Anthony punches a hole in a wall at her historic home in Rochester, NY, freaking the fuck out of a couple of tourists.

Ana and Christian leave the dance floor to commence with penvaging and that’s where it ends.

890 words…must do better.

Fifty Flavors of Ugh (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 51-100)

I’m beginning my recrap of pages 51-100 of Fifty Shades Darker: Money Never Sleeps with a public service announcement. This is something I had to do before, when Christian Grey pulled out Anastasia Steele’s tampon and threw it in a toilet.

So here it is:

Please do not put food in your vagina. Or if you do not have a vagina, please do not put food into someone else’s vagina.

I understand the labia is sometimes referred to as vaginal lips. I understand that inserting a penis into a vagina can be referred to as getting the “hot beef injection” (Bender, John, perf. “The Breakfast Club.” 1985. DVD.).

But the vagina is not a mouth. It is not meant to be invigorated by the latest amuse bouche.

Why am I bringing this up?

Patience, gentle reader.

If you would like to read how we got to this point, click here.

Ana is getting ready to meet her coworkers at the Fifty Shades theme bar where ladies drink free if they go through the spanking machine. “Miss Steele? Anastasia Steele?” Ana turns her head and sees Alex Forrest from Fatal Attraction. Alex laughs maniacally and looks at Ana with eyes that are brown, like bourbon, but flat (this is the actual description in the book).

“What do you have that I don’t?” Alex asks. Alex reaches over and turns a lamp on and off, revealing a white bandage around her wrist. She leaves with a “You should see what I can do with rabbits.”

What the crap, crap? Ana thinks, but soon forgets about the mysterious woman when she starts slamming beers at the bar. Ana’s boss Rapey McRapelstein stands too close to Ana and tries to ensnare her with his groin.

The lights flicker on and off. Everyone’s hair stands on end. Christian Grey has entered the room. All women’s down there become moist as sponge cake. All men’s testicles shrivel up into their necks.

Christian and Jekyll Hyde engage in a pissing contest because every man wants Ana just like every woman wants Christian. They are the most beguiling, mysterious, witty, intelligent, amazing couple in the universe even though everything they do and say show they are as annoying as shit.

Christian immediately begins doing push ups with his penis. Jack Ripper shows off his own penis prowess:

Ana and Christian leave to commence with the non kinky fuckery at Ana’s place. Christian asks if Jack is a good boss because if no, his ass is grass. Ana figures out that Christian has bought the publishing company where she works.

“I’m mad,” she yells.

“Well, I’m smiling my boyish smile,” he retorts, his eyes hooded and blazing and sparkling. “I must protect you at all times. Did you see the changes to the health care plan Vaginal ball extraction is totally covered.”

“Now I’m not mad anymore,” she breathes into her down there.

Sexing time. The usual stuff: grunting, licking, moaning, argghhing etc. It gets very repetitive and mind numbing hot. Christian likes to offer encouragement to Ana, which sounds very similar to the encouragement one gives a dog at obedience school.

It continues on for infinity, and I begin to wish it could be broken up by one of their banal email exchanges:

They stop and talk nonsense…I don’t know, maybe about whether Pinky or Blinky make the better Pac Man villain, I’m just so tired…and then Ana asks if he wants dessert. “I have vanilla ice cream,” she says blushing furiously.

Christian basically spoons Ben & Jerry’s ice cream all over her.

And all I can think is how much I hate when ice cream drips on my hand and arm, and now it’s all over the bed and sheets and yuck.

He then puts some in her pubic hair and vagina and licks it out. Mmm. I bet that tasted really good since she just had two spermicide-covered latex condoms in there.

I don’t understand why Ben & Jerry’s hasn’t capitalized on the Fifty Shades phenomenon by releasing a flavor inspired by the books. This one’s a freebie, boys:

Okay, gentle reader, this is where I’m going to refer you to the PSA at the top. I don’t think it’s the best idea to put sugar-based foods into one’s vagina.

Look what I found from a simple Google search of “Should I put ice cream in my vagina?”

I think it has something to do with screwing up the delicate balance of bacteria. Dr. Oz did a show on this once:

Ana mentions she needs a shower, but it is unclear whether she takes one–and this from an author who spent six paragraphs on the small talk between Ana and Claire the receptionist.

She falls asleep in the sticky sheets–oh dear christ–and dreams she is the pale, unwashed   ghost woman who confronted Ana on the sidewalk. She wakes up screaming and tells Christian about the encounter. It turns out the woman is Leila, one of his former subs. She showed up on Christian’s doorstep when he was with Ana in Georgia, and slit her wrist in front of the housekeeper Mrs. Jones.

“How does she know about me?” Ana whispers

Christian surmises Leila saw the one photograph of them online. Let’s ignore that in that photo Ana was unidentified.

Next day, Ana wants to get her haircut. Christian takes her to a salon where all the blonde employees seem to know him. Ana wonders if he’s screwed all of them, which is a healthy thought and a sign of a strong relationship. Nope, he just owns a chain of beauty salons.

Okay.

His co-owner is the woman who made him a sex slave at 15, and surprise she’s there. Christian rushes over to her and whispery whispers.

Ana’s like Crap, this sucks a big crapnugget. She’s, like, so prettier than me…er…I mean, she hurt Christian…but she is so way prettier than me. That sucks cow teats.

Christian returns to Ana’s side, and she wants to leave because of the over prettiness of Elena. They fight and fight. Christian’s cell phone rings, and it’s serious emergency time, you guys. Leila left her husband and took up with some guy who was killed in a car accident a few weeks ago.

Okay.

But wait! She has a concealed gun permit.

All right.

Listen! She wants to kill Ana!?!

Huh?

For reals, yo.