Fifty Shades of Choad: 9er and Baraka do chick lit crit

So it WAS a jab at me! Cool. I just didn't want to come off as thinking EVERYTHING is about me, but I guess it really is.

Continue!

(But I'm not FROM the Northwest. I'm from the Midwest. I was sexually liberated before moving here!)

 

Fantastic. And, yes, it gets worse.

I do wish I was visiting right now. This project would be super entertaining on your couch.

 

Oh my.

 

...but why?

It's like paying to dry hump a hooker.

Just get wet, brother.

 

I just laughed for the first time today.

 

I just got hard for the first time today.

 

I'm not afraid to say it, I love you guys.

(now my face is flushing as I cock my head to one side)

 

This is the best thing EVER!

 

And nobody has even taken their pants off yet!

...in the book.​

ZombieSquirrel,

Have you actually read 50 Shades of Grey or are you just enjoying the banter?

 

Just the banter. I'm not reading that crap.

Although it would be fun to read along with you boys.

 

Oh, ZombieSquirrel.

 

This is as good as I knew it would be

 

Yup

 

I started reading your post and had to stop. It hurt too much. I snipped it. Which means I stopped reading your distillation of the "writing". My god man, did you volunteer for this or were you railroaded? I strongly recommend you channel Hunter S. Thompson and gonzo this bitch of a book. Party your face off and then write whatever the hell you want to, pretending it is about the book that so deservedly has been bailed on.

That said, I do think that it (the book in question) will fulfill some purpose. If some middle-aged folks start getting their motors running again because of 50 Shades of Grey then let's agree the title refers to the pubic hair of the eventual target audience and let it go at that.

 

o my.

i don't know if this was linked before, but this review is now the second funniest thing i have seen about this phenomenon:

Katrina Lumsden (Charlotte, MI)'s review of Fifty Shades of Grey

 

It was linked before (Cynth moved it to the other "50 Shades of Grey" thread) and it was pretty funny. Really, a comedic masterpiece.

 

More. Gimmie more. Yeah, that's the stuff.

Chapter 4:

We left Ana wrapped up in Christian Grey's arms like the finishing move of an '80s couples dance off. Nearly killed by a Schwinn, her heart is racing. I like how this dude is using her full name. Anastasia. Not just because I know as many girls with that name as I do of the name Gertrude or Helga, but because it's so incredibly awkward. I mean, who calls anybody by their full first name if they've got a whopper like Anastasia? Your mother... when she's pissed. That's about it. I've never called my current girlfriend by her full name, not in the throes of orgasm, not when I'm pissed off at her, not when I'm yelling across a parking lot... never. I'm pretty sure you reserve proper full name usage for extreme things like talking to a police officer or when you're down on one knee in the park asking her to don a ring made with only the finest diamonds a starving African child can mine.

So, anyway, our throbbing virgin was totally mesmerized by being mere inches away from the beautiful floating head, who for reasons I'm sure we'll be privy to later, somehow knew that she wanted her first kiss in that moment and subsequently rejected her in some type of BDSM Lite hard-to-get game. Emo bullshit ensues where she's "not worthy" in the most Wayne's World way possible. She curls up on the floor in the parking garage for a quick cry about how she's too thin and too scruffy (She's All That-esque) and has to fight off the advances of the good-looking normal guys in her life before hopping into her friend's $50k car with gum and cigarette butts on her ass and driving home, presumably listening to "indie rock," presumably something atrocious like Coldplay... maybe Placebo. This entire silly scene leaves me wondering if anybody has had a dating experience like this that actually continued and, if so, how often they cut themselves on the thighs with a razor while listening to The Cure or Jane's Addiction.

Ana is the most pure boring, unbelievable 21 year old college girl in the universe. According to the splash dry cough of personal history we received during the super uncomfortable coffee date interrogation, her biological father is dead, her mother has been married four times (probably once to a carnival worker) and her contact with "family" consists of grunts over the phone. And yet here we learn that she's never been kissed, fucked or drunk before. No tattoos? No hood piercing? I'm tellin' ya, I can't party with this. A girl that goes to college that hasn't killed a few Bud Lights or put her knees up by her ears for a little friction? I wonder how the intended audience of female readers react to this crap. Is this the empty vessel they wish their soul could inhabit? Do women fantasize about being a little kid in a college-age woman's body? None of Ana's friends drink? None of them screw on the couch in the common area at 2 AM? Hell, it's a college in the Northwest... she's gotta have at least half a dozen friends that trip over their sex toys and knock water out of their bongs on the way to class. Character isn't believable because she's a typical headcase without the related vices.

After her final exams, Ana receives a fancy package from Mr. Grey containing like $50k in first edition hipster literature. Serious foreplay. If Ana was smart, she'd sell those things to the highest bidder and start pumping that money into a Roth IRA. Later, at some nameless bar, our heroine gets shitfaced and calls old boy on her cellphone to ask why he sent the expensive books. Instead of answering, our floating head derails the conversation by asking her if she's drunk and demanding to know what bar she's at despite the fact that he's likely mega miles away in another state (Portland, Oregon vs. Seattle, Washington?). Guy totally just donned a Steve Irwin outfit in my mind: he's a hymen hunter and loved Mark Wahlberg in Fear.

Straight from the script of every stuffy Conservative Family Values PSA flick, young people + alcohol = sexual assault. Our buddy Jose gets a little tipsy and decides to force himself on Ana with some Cinemax-style chin kisses and sweet-sweet Spanish nothings only to be cockblocked by Grey, who apparently tracks cellphones using the Q-watch he lifted from Roger Moore. Jose's "Grey!" line has me imagining that he hissed like a vampire hit by a beam of sunlight. Mm. Maybe Jose IS a vampire. He slinks off and leaves Mr. Grey to lecture Ana about her party habits while she discharges... no... "spectacularly vomits" margaritas and gummy bears and laxatives and god knows what else onto someone's poor flowerbed. Mr. Grey drags the heaving queen of virginity back into the bar to chug a tall glass of ice water before a little bump 'n grind on the dance floor. Because dancing with a stomach full of H20 is exactly what you wanna do after you've just dry heaved enough times for your abs to go into muscle failure and your brain needs a gyroscope to figure out which way is up. She notices Kate getting all freaky with Grey's just-showed-up brother Elliott before she passes out. Turns out Grey is staying at the fancy hotel in town they did the photo shoot at and there's a 50/50 Ana will end up there in the next slice of action.

Watch out for those Grey brothers, man... they move in packs and have cherry-seeking meat spears. I'll cheer if they Eiffel Tower her in Chapter 5.

Times Converse sneakers have been plugged so far: 3
Percentage of men that'd rather fuck Kate Kavanagh: 94
Random references to Greek mythology: Icarus
Kleenex tissues soiled by audience: 2
Grammar errors in this post: 57