50 things I could’ve done instead of reading 50 Shades
*Disclaimer – probably gonna say some nasty words. If you’re offended
by that kind of language (1) don’t read anymore and (2) how the F did you read
the books OR (3) don’t read the books.
**SPOILER – if you plan to read the books or have not finished them yet
– don’t read this because I’ll ruin it for you. As if I could. It ruins itself.
Where to begin? 50 Shades. Trendy name. I like it I admit. I had to
read the trilogy because I wanted to know what everyone was talking about. I
don’t get it. This was almost as bad as Twilight – and I still haven’t forgiven
myself for those wasted hours. Speaking of…this was practically the same book,
just add a dash of hardcore porn. Set in Washington; independently wealthy,
impossibly good looking young guy; super fast cars; clumsy, girl-next-door
beauty who falls desperately in love; best friend that’s a guy who’s in love
with her; married within five minutes; pregnant within five minutes; pregnancy
almost kills her; impossibly in love and then breaking up but then impossibly
in love again; self sacrificing moments of insanity; mom lives in another state…need
I go on?
Wait…I have to give kudos to the author and the mega bucks she will be
rolling in. Good for her. A+ for effort. Glad she took a stab at something
slightly taboo and ran with it. It wasn’t the best literature ever, but she
still made profits off the three books I bought. Dammit. But congrats again.
Ok, wtf. I mean really. First, who has gray eyes? No one. No one I
know. I don’t know a lot of people but whatever. No one has gray eyes. Get over
it.
CORNY that you say he has gray eyes and his last name is Grey. Hate
that. Read a book once where the detective’s last name was Capslock. Are you
f’n kidding me? Be original people.
Second, Christian and Anastasia. Pah-lease. Ridiculous names. Only Nora
Roberts can get away with princess names like Anastasia. And super creepy that
Christian has a biblical connotation yet he’s all whips and chains and
erections. (Just wait till I get to erections).
Third, the money is ridiculous. It’s super rare for someone so young to
amass such wealth so don’t even try to convince me that he did. Fictional or
not, I’m not buying it. Oh you don’t like that car, here’s keys to a new one.
You like books? Here’s first editions worth more than your yearly salary. Don’t
do this. It’s not impressive and completely unbelievable.
I’m going to stop counting.
Charlie Tango. Cute name, but I don’t believe you have time to learn to
fly this thing when you are 12 and still building an empire and counting your
coins. This is jumping the shark.
A three month/week/year honeymoon around the world? Whateva. I wanted
the yacht to sink by then.
Ok let’s get to the nitty gritty. Book one was interesting but that’s
it. I felt bad for princess – yea, I’m calling her that – because she did want
hearts and flowers and nothing wrong with that. I could sorta see a situation
like this unfolding. Virgin? Maybe. Unlikely, but maybe. The contract that
wasn’t really a contract and all that? Props. Just for show. Clearly it didn’t
mean anything so why bother? I get that people live this kind of kinky fuckery
lifestyle as she wants to call it. More power to them, I have no problem with
that. And it was interesting to read a bit about it. But it didn’t make me want
to swing from the chandelier or tie up my husband or stick foreign objects in
forbidden places.
I’m sure some people DO have these playrooms. I’d rather have a kennel.
I’d use my leashes on dogs, not men. Or women. Anyway, good for these people.
And thanks for the insight…but what really grinds my gears is the LACK of words
used in this book. This book is about kinky fuckery so get kinky. Say pussy,
say vagina, say cunt! Damn. He touched me…there? Are you kidding? We all know
where there is. SAY IT. Keep going. Don’t bounce back and forth between
treasures and trash. She says fuck all the time but can’t call his dick a cock?
It’s an erection ONCE. After that it’s a fucking dick and a sex tool. SAY IT.
And sooooo tired of the erection springing forth? Really? For all the springing
his dick did they should have called it Tigger. Oh and the bathtub blow job scene
in the first book where he was sitting in the tub and the massive erection was
so enormous it broke the surface of the water….well…how deep was this water? I
pictured a baseball bat size penis and surely that’s not the case.
Ugh, the constant fucking. The absolutely unbelievable amount of times
she came. No one is that good. No one comes every other minute. And if they do,
good for them but NO ONE DOES. Who are these people who have sex when they wake
up (sans brushed teeth), at the breakfast table, before they leave for work, in
the elevator (the elevator? So unsanitary), in the car, in the foyer, in the
shower, in bed, in the middle of the night. Chafe much? Come on. No pun
intended.
The author should’ve ended it in one book. The breakup was great. That
was awesome. Except the back and forth twilight-like “I love you, but I can’t
be with you” bullshit is nauseating. Knock it off. Leave his wicked ass. Let
him suffer. And stop calling your mother the crack whore. That’s what my mom is
called.
Book two: I barely remember because it was awful. Something about a
masquerade party because who’s parents don’t own half of Washington state and
throw massive million dollar charity events? And Jack, Jack who? Terrible
character. Wait, I can’t even say that because there was little to no character
development on him. Who was he, what’s his beef? Stupid. Dumb. Waste of space
in the book. I don’t believe that this Jack is suddenly and entirely capable of
sabotaging helicopters, breaking in to high rise million dollar apartments and
so on and so forth. Drama with a capital D. Unbelievable-you-lost-me-this-book-is-absurd
drama.
Book three: ummmm… oh yeah…boring. I had to force myself to finish. I
kept waiting for the climax, again, no pun intended, but oh of course –
super-beautiful-(but doesn’t know it)-magically-knocked-up-princess-Ana is
going to save the day with her sharp-shooter skills. Who didn’t see that
coming? My dogs. Because they can’t read. And I wouldn’t torture them with this
nonsense if they could. Jack’s involvement in all of this was so over the top
it’s not even border-line illogical it’s straight up DUMB. I was never tense, I
was never worried, I was never even interested. I just wanted it to end. Much
like Twilight where I wanted to kill Bella 47 times, I wanted something REAL to
happen to Ana so Christian could have something significant to whine about.
Enough with the: you’re my whole life and world crap. Two minutes ago you
wanted to beat her to a pulp with a ruler and then fuck her sorry ass.
Seriously? That’s your world? And wait, all this kinky shit and he never does
fuck her ass. Let down.
And the need to hurt AND screw women who looked like your mom? Dude, I
get the hurt your mom angle, but you want to have sex with women who look like
your mom? Oedipus much?
I kept thinking make it stop. Let something fascinating and unexpected
happen, but no. Total let down. Total waste of time. Oh, and then the author
throws in a mouth fucking scene at the end to say hey let’s not forget these
two are kinky. No thanks. I’m over it.
I also didn’t like how the author suddenly switched to Christian’s POV
at the end. At that point, who cares? He was a total ass. Maybe I would’ve
cared in the beginning. Maybe. But by the end I wanted their whole plantation
and magic home to be targeted by terrorists.
So here’s a list of 50 things I could’ve done instead of waste my time
on this book…plus one more because I wasted time writing this blog. And you
should thank me for saving your time. Unless you wanna get kinky, go read it.
*ps – loved my mini book club with my friend during this ordeal. For me
it was an ordeal.
**pss – I could never be anyone’s submissive. I barely hear my husband
when he asks me to do something. On purpose. ;)
Here is where I planned to list the 50 things I could’ve done instead…but
I refuse. I’m bored with this blog already. Sorry.
