vaginal balls

Let’s Finish this Twat so I can be Fifty Shades Freed (pgs. 501-548)

This is it, gentle reader.

The end.

It took some time getting to this point. My brain has shrunken to the size of a vaginal ball. I no longer recognize how sentences are properly constructed. And I’ve begun to call the wart on my left thumb “my inner goddess.” I sometimes dress it in cheerleading outfits.

Since we’re at the end, I would like to let you in on a little secret:

I fucking hate this book more than I fucking hated the other two.

The other two sucked an electrified butt plug, but this book is the king of the shitheap hill. There was no reason for it–no reason for any of them–but really no reason for this other than for E.L. James to make a bazillion more dollars.

Let’s get this over with. We left off with Ana saving the day with her lima-bean-sized brain and gun-firing skills, her in-and-out-of consciousness in the hospital and Speaker7 praying for an early demise.

Christian remembers that his foster mother called him “baby bird,” and suddenly Jack Hyde’s ransom note makes sense.

I’m glad it does for you, Christian, since I have never seen or heard anything about it. This from the author who included Christian’s BDSM contract verbatim. TWICE!

Baby bird is from the book Are You My Mother? Christian explains. Jack knew he loved it.

Will you tell the police? Ana wonders.

Okay, stop. Let’s stop. What the fuck is going on? Why is this relevant? Anybody have a theory?

Thanks Hugo. Fair point well made ol’ chap.

Ana wants to bang, but Christian wants to talk about Mrs. Robinson raping him.

Awesome.

As a teen, Christian did yard work for her so he had money to maintain his drinking habit. Good thing that’s cleared up since he drinks daily.

He made some smart-ass remark and Mrs. Robinson slapped him. Then she kissed him and slapped him again like some cardboard heroine from a 1950’s movie.

“‘Well naturally I was confused and angry and horny as hell. I mean, a hot older woman comes on to you like that–‘ He shakes his head as if he still can’t believe it.

Hot? I feel queasy.”

Way to keep perspective, Ana. Yes this is the exact moment to get jealous.

Mrs. Robinson made the world make sense until Ana turned everything upside down with her super vagina and commendable lip biting abilities.

More blather about loving her so much and her being the greatest thing since the hot dog dicer. He then explains his dickish actions when she told him she was pregnant. He left to see Dr. Flynn, but Dr. Flynn was running the bake sale or some such made-up shit at the local school so he went to the salon to talk to Mrs. Robinson.

They split a bottle of wine since Mrs. Robinson was the one who got Christian to stop drinking. She made a pass at him and he was like ewww.

Ana wonders if they kissed.

Christian said he thought about junior Grey having relations with an adult, and realized maybe it wasn’t all hunky dory.

Christian tells Ana he wants to be the center of her universe, but knows that’s over once the bun is cooked in her oven. Ana platitudes bullshit about children loving their parents unconditionally. Um…other way around, tootsie roll, say all parents of teenagers.

A day passes. Ana’s horny. She decides to dress sexily and brush her hair sexily. She wants scrambled eggs for breakfast and this greeted as surprising news by all, except for me because I’m scraping a fork against my eyeball.

Argue-time over whether she can go to work. Then she sees he’s wearing pajama bottoms. I don’t know if they’re hanging off his hips in that way. Are they? Are they??!?!??!?

He’s staying home too to keep Ana under guard so she won’t get into trouble like put a fork in an electrical outlet or get into the cleaning supplies under the sink.

Christian starts to feel up her leg with Mrs. Jones in the room. Banter about wanting to screw, and Mrs. Jones is trying to hide her smile, according to Ana. I really don’t think Mrs. Jones gives a fuck, but okay Ana, it’s from your addled-brain’s point of view.

They go to look at the boring house renovations and have a boring picnic in the meadow. Uh-oh–phone call from Welch. Mrs. Robinson’s ex Linc was the one who bailed out Jack Hyde!

Holy shit! Wait–who the fuck is he? And why the fuck do I care? And fuck?

Christian will destroy him. Awesome. This is as compelling as if I learned Noah Logan was behind it all. Remember him? Yeah, I don’t either, but at least he made an appearance on one page in this book unlike the super villain Linc.

The bankrupting of Linc gets them all hot and bothered and they screw. It’s the same-old, same-old. Some hair fisting, teeth clashing, inflaming loins. Christian pokes his fingers through her panties, which causes them to disintegrate. (?) Guess what? Ana’s wet. Like always.

Two more days pass, Christian is playing his dopey piano, but not the usual sad melody, something upbeat “Pop Goes the Weasel.” Ana uses this time to compose a stupid email and sneak off into the playroom. End, goddammit! End.

Oh, it’s the epilogue – May 2014.

Everyone’s dead.

Unfortunately no. For some reason we go back to the time in the playroom, and they do it. Why this needed to be a flashback is something that will require me to travel to the year 2014 and flashback upon.

Back to the future again. Ana’s pregnant with second child, a daughter. She tells Christian that the baby is dancing and makes the completely appropriate remark: “I think she likes sex already.”

*cue the montage*

Then Christian says this gem: “I’m looking forward to the taste of breast milk again.” I’m so glad they’re able to find a use for their babies in their sexual escapades. That seems so….fuck.

They play with their boy Teddy, and the end.

Wait a second. . . I’m at page 548, and what is this shit? Shades of Christian? Oh no, no, no, no, no. Nope. You do not get to tack on your writing exercises at the end, E.L., for me to slog through after I just read 4,000 pages of your potato scrapings. No thank you. NO. No I do not need to read the first flippin’ book again from Christian’s perspective. Guess what, y’all. It still sucks. What’s next? From the perspective of the pencil sharpener?

Shades of a Pencil Sharpener

Holy cow, these two are fucking idiots. You’re damn right! Who said that? It’s me, your inner pencil sharpener. What’s up, dawg? You want to go sharpen some pencils so we drown out these morons’ hissing and muttering and arrghhing? Word.

(To go to the beginning of my decline, click here)

 

Fifty Shades Grossed Out (Fifty Shades Freed: pgs. 201-250)

Ah yes, pages 201 to 250 of Fifty Shades Freed, how I hate you.

Heads up, gentle reader. This was the expression I had almost the entire time I read this passage:

Fucking hell?

The only time I was not making this face was when I was rolling my eyes. Yeah, you heard right Christian Grey, I was rolling my eyes. I’d like to try to see you spank me.

Another thing, gentle reader, I’ve given poor Goofy and Hugo a break this recrap. They have yet to fully recover from actually reading part of the book. Or it could be they are hidden away in a storage container while strangers traipse through the house we’re trying to sell. For some reason, a half-man puppet sticking Play-doh vaginal balls into a blue bunny is not a strong selling point.

We left it at Ana promising Christian she would entertain her friend Kate at their apartment while he’s out of town. (For previous recraps, please visit here) And that’s what she does.

Sike!

Kate swings by, scoops Ana up in a “Kate hug”–whatever the fuck that is–and they go out to drink their weight in strawberry mojitos.

Ana, of course, hasn’t eaten all day because she subsists on the scent of Christian’s body wash.

Ana brings her security team, Sawyer of the first name Luke and “Miss Belinda Prescott.” I am unsure why we are being introduced to the character in this fashion, but it’s great and by great, I mean I would like to squeeze my neck in a vice.

Kate mentions the additional security is driving the rest of the Greys crazy. Ana’s all like “The what, who now?” Ana’s been kept in the dark. This is because of Jack Hyde, Kate explains, and then they have a completely incongruous conversation.

“‘What about Jack? I thought he was just after Christian,’ I gasp. Jeez. Why hasn’t he told me?

‘Since Monday,’ Kate says.”

Huh? Ana’s not the only who doesn’t know what’s going on.

What should we do for dinner?

Since Tuesday.

Ana surges with anger as she learns from Kate that this all hinges on information on Jack’s computer. She gets up to go angry-pee and Miss Belinda Prescott follows disapprovingly behind. Ana mutters “wordlessly” how she hasn’t been out on her own since the wedding, to Miss Belinda Prescott. So I guess she muttered it in the manner of a Charlie Brown teacher. “Wah-wah wah. Wah-Wah. Wah-wah-wah.”

They drop Kate off. Ana figures Christian knows about her broken promise, and will be mad, but relishes the thought of him punishing her:

Yep. Making this face. Right now.

Christian has called five times and sent her an email:

 

She texts him back: “Kate kept me on my leash and I did not dig in the neighbor’s trash can like last time. Please don’t be mad. LOL.”

When the elevator doors open, Ana knows something is wrong. The foyer table is overturned and the flower vase is broken. Now this is significant because in Fifty Shades Darker, Ana noticed the vase of flowers was missing, and now it’s here and broken so…yeah I’ve got nothing.

Do you think it means something that the vase was not there, but now it is?

Since Monday.

It’s a Code Blue people. Holy fuck! A Code Fuckin’ Blue. Security guy Ryan has knocked Jack Hyde unconscious. Ana also doesn’t know Ryan’s first name. Fuck! Code Blue, people. Ana doesn’t know something!

Ryan noticed Jack on the service elevator and gave him access to the apartment. Huh? That makes no sense. “That way I knew we’d have him.” Um…okay. What if he happened to have a bomb strapped to his body? Doesn’t matter.

Ryan needs something to tie Jack up, and Ana offers up some cable ties and then wants the floor to swallow her up. Me too, sister.

Jack brought a gun and roll of duct tape with him. Ana wants to call the police, but the security is waiting to hear from Christian via Taylor. Ana tries to call Christian and leaves a message, telling him first not be mad at her (!) and that everything’s okay. And then she demands they call the police.

Detective Clark barks questions at Ana. Ana feels sad. She wants “to crawl into (Christian’s) lap.”

Ooh yes. The face is back.

She sleeps in his T-shirt and on his side of the bed because it smells like an abusive sack of douche.

She wakes and sees Christian sitting in a chair by the bed. He’s weirdly rubbing one of his Twizzler-fingers back and forth over his lower lip. He’s pissed with a capital BOO.

“I am way, way beyond mad.”  Aw! So cute.

They go back and forth. “Don’t be mad” I’m mad” etc. She crawls into his lap, and my face takes on a familiar expression.  He smells of whiskey, body wash and a stuck half turd.

“‘I want to punish you,’ he whispers. ‘Really beat the shit out of you.'”

Awwww….wait, what? Seriously, WHAT?!?

Yo! Now would be the time to get off that mutherfucker’s lap and go pack!

“‘I know,’ I whisper as my scalp prickles.”

Ana goes back to sleep, comforted by the notion the he might hammer her skull in while she rests. She wakes up and Christian is there in a tank top damp with sweat from likely murdering a random woman and disposing her body somewhere. Oh, and he’s still mad. He is a fun dude.

He showers and Ana jumps in. She tries to rev his engine, but he warns “Don’t.” Ana thinks he doesn’t want me anymore. And Jesus Christ, this goddamned book™.

She begs him not to overreact. Overreact, he snarls, someone tries to kidnap my wife, and it wasn’t me?!?. . . “And all because you can’t follow a simple, fucking request.” I don’t know how Jack’s break-in is connected to Ana’s night out with Kate, but maybe that’s because I’m not a fucktwit.

Later that morning, she tries to go into his office, but he has set up an invisible fence, and she gets shocked, turning away dejectedly.

She leaves for work, whispering “Don’t hate me.” Too late. Oh, you were talking to Christian. He doesn’t hate her, and then forcibly grabs her face and jams his tongue down her throat. After extracting a tonsil stone, he pushes her away and calls for security.

At work, Ana begins to wonder if Christian flew home early because of the break-in or because she went out with Kate. If it’s the latter, he’s a fargin psycho, she paraphrases. “Okay, I’m glad he’s back so maybe that’s irrelevant.”

Goddamnit! For two seconds, you almost sounded like a normal human being. Then you go and ruin it because “Hallelujah my man has returned!”

She emails Christian to find out what time he decided to fly back, and he’s all cagey, and by cagey, I mean a stinky fartface. She finally emails him a long diatribe saying she’s not a child–apart from the crawling in his lap, asking for his permission and behaving like a child in all manner and ways–and she’s pissed too.

When she arrives home, she sees Christian wearing his red-room-of-pain jeans, and Ana’s mouth dries out like my will to live. He’s still mad. So-weet! He’s mad she “defied him.” Whole bullshit thing about how he worried he would hurt her and she knew he never would, and where is it? Oh yes:

This is the man women are pining for? This guy?!?

Ana gets him to divulge a bit about the information contained on Jack’s hard drive. Files about his family and borrrinnnngg. Enough talk, Christian pricks, have you eaten? Of course not, but she did huff his underwear this morning so that carried her through the day. He decides to blindfold her and feed her. He spits wine into her mouth (yum?) followed by bits of lamb and humus and it’s sooooo…fucking unnecessary.

He refers to himself as “Fifty Shades, baby” when she describes him for the umpteenth time as mercurial. And yes, the face is happening even as I type this.

They go into the playroom–and Jesus Christ this recrap is long–and he nails her to the cross. Oops, I mean he handcuffs her to the cross in preparation for nailing. She’s blindfolded again and naked. He tweaks her parts until she’s about burst and stops. She mewls.

I’m two seconds away from dry heaving.

He keeps doing that, bringing her to the edge of climaxing and then stopping. After the tenth time (and believe me, we experience all 10 times), it dawns on Ana he’s doing this to punish her so she says the safe word “twat taco” and starts sobbing.

He’s like “My bad.” He says orgasm denial is a standard tool…and doesn’t continue. A standard tool committed by major tools? She said he has to stop trying to treat her like his submissive. He’s like a-derp.

That’s it for now. I have permanent wrinkles from my continual scowl.

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 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?

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.

Fifty Types of Vaginal Balls (pgs. 351-400)

We’re almost at the finish line.

Are we? I feel like I’ve been reading 50 Shades of Grey for 16 years enclosed inside a torture cage in one of those CIA black sites.

That’s really hot!

Shut up, Ana. Not everything is hot. For example, my life force. It’s nearly depleted. And mild salsa. That just tastes like tomatoes.

Okay, we are at pages 351-400, and so much has happened. You can read vivid recraps by clicking here or I can give a very short summary of the events thus far. Ana bit her lip; Christian arched and pursed his lip eyebrow; a well-endowed train slammed through a moistened tunnel; a rocket blasted into space and fucked a black hole with vigor; a clam shell was cracked open by a fire hose; an addled sock puppet said “crap” and “holy cow”; and Christian made Ana watch Love Guru as punishment.

The doltish duo returns from a night of eating food at a family dining table and screwing in a family boathouse. Ana wants to touch Christian, but he says “Ew. Girls have cooties and I’m 50 shades of fucked up.”

She says “What’s up, dawg?” He purses his lip and his eyes burn a hole in his pants. “I’ll let you spank me, if you tell me something painful from your painful childhood, dealsies?” Ana says.

Christians leaves for a second and returns with a box:

He sexily pumps the Play-doh Factory’s arm up and down.

Christian uses the special Play-doh shoe-horn to insert said vaginal balls:

Guess what? They don’t have sex, but instead use the vaginal balls to play a game of marbles.

I’m kidding. They do have sex because that is all they ever do. Afterwards Christian retracts his penis and says “My birth mother was a crack whore. G’night.”

The next morning they have desk sex in Christian’s office:

Ana meets Christian’s housekeeper Mrs. Jones. Christian asks Mrs. Jones to tidy up his collection of vaginal balls and Play-doh implements. Ana leaves to get ready for her two interviews. At one of the interviews, the boss’s penchant for cocking his head and arching his eyebrows remind her of Christian. Uh-oh could this boss possibly interfere in this fantastic relationship? I can’t wait to find out or I can wait to find out and spend the rest of my life never knowing. Yes the latter feels as right as a well-placed set of vaginal balls.

Ana leaves for her flight to Georgia to see her mother and think things out away from Christian’s gigantic member. She walks through the metal scanner. It buzzes. She deftly removes the vaginal balls and tries again. When she gets up to the check-in gate, she finds Christian has upgraded her ticket to first class and requested she receive a full body cavity search from the TSA. Ana is pissed about the upgrade.

To move the story along without all the sexy, holy-crap fucking, Christian and Ana sexily email one another:

Ana sends Christian a stream-of-consciousness email about all her deep penetrating thoughts about crap and stuff:

And that’s it. . . so many interesting plot twists, so many unanswered questions. Will Ana sign the dominant/submissive contract? Can Christian change and let Ana lick his chest hairs without cringing? What color will his cock ring be?

Till next time, gentle reader.