Fifty Shades Of Grey

Fifty Shades of Grey 

Read the ingredients on the label of a can of corn instead of this masturbatory debacle. It started out as online Twilight fan fiction, and now it’s become a literary phenomenon among the sexually naïve. Twenty years ago you could have grabbed a Penthouse Forum from behind the counter at a 7-11 and read the same stories. And for goodness sake, how much unconventional sex can two people have? Really. How much? After thirty or so pages of reading about the male lead having the female lead walk around with a string of balls packed away in her hoo-ha, or having her spanked or tied up or forced to beg for release, it gets kind of monotonous. Reading three books filled with this tripe is exhausting. Now, they want us to get all excited about a movie. Honestly, I just can’t. It’s too much. Everyone should be over this by now. That is why you all have my permission to give this trilogy one big mental fart and move on with your lives. It’s okay… really. In the end, the book covers were much more interesting anyway.