The Last 50 Shades - Putting the "Kin" in "Kink"

July 10, 2013

So it has come to this. Books about married person sex. Who. The. Hell. Cares.

The title of the third book made me smirk - Fifty Shades Freed. Ironic no? Considering that they've tied the knot as well as the bondage ropes, free is not exactly the word that comes to  mind. If I had the audacity to edit the title, I'd go with something like Fifty Shades of Monotonous Monogamy.


I was very disappointed to learn that Christian and Anastasia actually tied the knot. Go ahead, celebrate your love and junk, just please wait until the last chapter of an erotic novel to drop off the sexy scale. No one wants to read about married people humping. It brings up images of your parents humping. And that's gross. Nothing makes sex less kinky than when it's sacred in the eyes of God. Except maybe when you husband tells you not to pee before you do it. Frankly, that's just plain rude. It's vexing to me that Anastasia won't listen to Christian regarding her work schedule, but she's willing to let her husband tell her when she's allowed to tinkle? I read once that if you continuously hold it, you can create urine crystals in you bladder. And that sounds painful. Although considering Christian's affinity for masochism, that could be the end goal - bladder stalagmites and stalactites? How erotic.

I'm sure her vag is just as cavernous and well lit

If the elaborate dwelling and drooling over the God that is Christian Grey didn't tell us that this series was written by a desperate lonely imaginative woman, we certainly catch on as Christian constantly pushes money and clothes on Ana, violently defends her honor, and tells her to gain weight. Which is every woman's wet dream, and completely unrealistic. Bill Gates probably doesn't even tell his wife to go spend his fortune. That's how he stays so rich. Next thing you know Christian will be telling Ana "Get 6 cats. Cat dander gets me hard".


Sister Wives
Christian's brother proposes to Ana's best friend. Another wet dream for woman kind. Too bad they fought for half the length of their relationship before he popped the question. And on that note, does everyone in Portland get married after 6.5 dates? Maybe if they waited they could find nice normal guys who let them piss when they want to and don't touch their tampons. I regress. The club the big happy family goes to when Elliot & Kate get engaged sounds abhorrent. Like the ones you purposely cancel plans for last minute to avoid. As James renders:

The music is pulsing, a techno beat with a thumping base line. The dance floor isn't crowded, which means we have some space. The mix is eclectic - young and old alike dancing the night away.

This description reminds me of a club called Sound Garden in Lethbridge, AB. The one sure place to get date raped and watch a 60 year old overweight woman in leather pants dance on the speakers every Friday and Saturday night. I'll pass thanks. Although if I was brought to a place like this to celebrate my engagement, a handful of roofies, or Forgetmenow's as Gob Bluth calls them, might not be the worst idea.

Last Ditch Attempt at S&M

Christian gets even more rapey with his fantasies in Fifty Shades Freed. Asking your wife to struggle with you when you tie her up? Why don't you just ask her to walk through a parking lot at night and you'll grab her ankle and drag her underneath a truck. Any air of eroticism this scene had to it was lost when Christian utters:

Oh, baby, fight me

BAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! That's just literary gold! Followed by their word diarrhea of one word demands, it was too much for me to handle. My staff must've thought I'd gone off the deep end as I was reading on my computer, snickering behind my desk. 

The Lighter Shades of Grey

I'll give E.L. White this much - the ending was good. Well, until it got all emotional and junk again. But in the midst of the action I was enjoying the change of pace- guns and kidnapping always helps kick things up a notch. I momentarily held a vain hope that Ana was going to die  but was viciously snapped out of my day dream when Christian came to the rescue. Ah well. It was very short lived, but was enough to get me through the end of the book and series. And cushion the awkwardness of Christian carrying Ana to the bathroom and listening to her pee.

Epilogue

This was potentially the worst part of the entire series. Just. Horrendous. 

Can we talk about how they named their first kid Ted? What an awful name for anyone under the age of 80. So many things rhyme with Ted too - that poor bastard is going to be completely tormented at whatever waspy private school he's sent to.

Why are they having bondage sex when she's 6 months prego? That's such a disturbing image! Certainly brings up some fetish concerns.

Did they make Ana have a c-section to preserve her theoretical vag? Because that's hilarious.

This one was definitely the least enjoyable of the 3 books. Just the fact that it took me this long to want to pick it up back up and power through the pages says something. And that's coming from a girl who spent 4 months studying Chaucer. This one might even be worse than Twilight. I know. That bad.

Overall, I'm going to smack the series with a solid 43%. By that I mean I only was entertained 43% of the time reading it, and the 57% I was looking for the next sex scene or wishing it was illustrated.

Love Me, Love My Ball Gag

June 7, 2013

Let me preface my lamenting by saying the second book in the series was better than the first. Perhaps it's because I've gotten over my initial skepticism, but I enjoyed it more overall. Stalkers and guns and cougars oh my.

Starting with the title - Fifty Shades Darker. Ominous. Bonus points. Clearly darker doesn't always mean better, but James made a valiant attempt to provide a couple plot points that didn't make me want to hang myself in the red room. Much less  "he's playing with my emotions" and much more "he's playing with my tits". Of which I highly approve.

Secondly, I was pleasantly surprised when E L James threw in a couple words that were above a grade 6 reading level. Inveigle and avuncular? Great words. Still doesn't make up for the others, such as "fuckery" and "nifty", but it gets an A for effort nevertheless.

Another admirable detail (listen to me going on! I'm going to give off the impression I'm a fan of the series if I'm not careful) was E L James' careful consideration to having Christian take off his socks before each rondevue. In high school, a friend of mine dated a guy, let's call him Chris Smith, who always kept his socks on during the act (and all acts leading up to the act). We fondly called him "only socks Smith". Only socks Grey just doesn't have the same ring to it, so I applaud James' attention to detail.

Back to Business
I was snorting with laughter as I read the lipstick outlining scene. That mental image of Christian Grey marked up like a cow at the butcher just reminded me entirely too much of plastic surgery consults which is quite possibly the least erotic process ever.

Hawt.

Let's just touch on the not-quite-a-pregnancy-scare. Ana is horrified by the mere suggestion that she might be pregnant (for a whole 1.5 minutes), but is then annoyed when Christian is freaked out by the prospect too...what? Talk about a double standard. This girl is the paradigm of bipolar. She's either got mental health issues, or is easily swayed in to changing herself for a dude. One minute she's breaking up with him over being spanked, the next she's begging for it. She doesn't want to be pregnant, but then gets her panties in a twist when her boyfriend doesn't want a kid either. She's mad at him, then gets turned on, then starts crying all in the span of a 3 minute shower. Figure your shit out Ana and talk to your doctor about Lithium.

Character "Development"

Since the first book, Christian has become a pussy. In Fifty Shades of Grey he was domineering, decisive and despotic. In Fifty Shades Darker he's become petulant, pitiful and poignant. Ugh. So much for my lady boner. Sure the puppy dog man seems adorable on the surface, but it's hard to remember that initial attraction once his droning whine has become a permanent fixture and he's piddled on your new carpet. We've all had shit in our past Christian. Stop it.

Christian's food fascination also develops in the second book. I understand that he was malnourished as a kid (probably should be thanking his past for the chiseled physique we read about today), but it's beyond the boarder of obsessive. Maybe the fourth book, Fifty Flavours of Grey, will be about splooshing. Now that I'd read. (If you don't know what splooshing is, go look it up and have a good laugh)

The second book of the series has made me confused which side I'm on. On one hand, Ana is insufferably emotional, but can be reasonable (for example, needing to work and not ride on Christian...'s money). On the other hand, Christian's ludicrous expectations & possessiveness is infuriating to even the reader, but he's rich and hot. See my predicament? Maybe I'll be on team Taylor. He seems like a reasonable and upstanding man on a nice payroll.

We finally get a look into Grey's history (as if you couldn't predict it already) when he spits out this gem:

"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."

Jesus Christ girl, T Swift is right. This is  way scarier than the slag with the gun. RUN. RUN FAST AND RUN FAR. Christian makes Oedipus look look like a misguided teenager with this one. As if the chest full of butt plugs didn't scream "emotionally unstable" on it's own. Let's break this down. Sadist - A person who enjoys being cruel. Whip - A tool used for corporal punishment or to train animals. Crack whore - Not an appropriate name to call your mother, even if she was a lady of the night who used drugs on a recreational basis. There should have been an Ana shaped hole in his wall before this sentence was even finished being uttered.

Homework
Here's some things to think about boys and girls:

1. Is anyone else curious as to what Anastasia's bi-polar "inner goddess" looks like? She has to have a physical form if she can "jerk awake suddenly, all disheveled with a just fucked look". And on that note, who's fucking her?
2.  Ana is remarkably okay after having a gun pointed at her and a potential rape take place within a 24 hour period...shouldn't she be more shaken? And by shaken, I mean shouldn't she be crying in the fetal position in the shower corner, surrounded by empty Ben & Jerry's containers and not getting bound and banged by her sadist boyfriend?
3. Ana's rapey boss' name is Jack Hyde. A man who's friendly one minute and angry the next named Jack Hyde. Real original James. Robert Louis Stevenson isn't just rolling in his grave, he's violently convulsing.
4. How did the crazy ex get a gun licence in a day? I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure a dirty hoe with crazy eyes can't just grab one at the checkout counter with her gum.
5. The dating circles are so tightly knit it's almost incest. Grey & Ana are dating. Ana's roommate is dating Grey's brother. Ana's roommate's brother is dating Grey's sister. Do you think at family dinners they just look at each other and cringe across the table thinking "I've heard what you sound like during your vinegar strokes"?


I'm feeling generous, so I'll give Fifty Shades Darker two ball gags out of five. Not based on literary merit, just on comparison basis with Fifty Shades of Grey. But as far as shit literature goes, it'll do pig, it'll do.

Gagging on Glitter - The Great Gatsby

May 13, 2013

I have been waiting for The Great Gatsby to come out in theaters for what seems like years (in actuality it's only been about 6 months since I found out, but that's a very long time in over-eager-English graduate time). I bought tickets online, paid the absolutely ludicrous price for reserved seating, laughed as the Asian couple in front of me got kicked out of a series of seats before settling in to their assigned seats (in the neck breaking front row), and wore the uber flattering 3D glasses. All things that could have affected my movie experience, but nothing could ruin Gatsby. I. Loved. It. It was like falling through a glamorous rabbit hole as you're transported through the screen's ornate gold frame into the 1920s.

It got such awful reviews (only 48% on Rotten Tomatoes), but clearly these people are ignorant cunts idiots because it was fabulous in every sense of the word. This movie epitomizes #firstworldproblems and #whitepersonproblems and makes you marvel at the power of Gatsby's clean up crew.

Plot
90% of the movie was identical to the book - super impressive and unheard of in Hollywood. Very minor variations (no mention of Dan Cody for example) which didn't affect it's AWESOMENESS.
It's always bothered me a bit that Tom has an affair with Myrtle (lets be serious - the mistress is never a ginger), and I wish the movie had shown a bit more of the scandal but what you did see (Joel Edgerton with sex hair and an even more awkward than usual Tobey Maguire) was fun times. Many of the iconic lines were still used which made me happy. In particular, the verbose Jordan Baker:

“And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.” 

Truth.

Cast
The casting director needs a raise and a round of slow claps. Well done. And that's from someone who thinks Carey Mulligan is one of the most boring celebutants of all time. I was even okay with her lesbian bob because she wore shiny hair accessories to distract from it. Movie Tom was significantly less racist and crude which was not as much fun, but understandable. I don't know how many more off color (haha...puns...) jokes I can take after Django Unchained anyways. Joel Edgerton was the perfect mix of dominant, scary and sexy for the role and his perve-stache was an excellent addition. Isla Fisher might as well not have even been in the credits with her solid 6:32 minutes of screen time, but she made an excellent corpse. I would have liked to see them pad her bra a bit considering Myrtle was supposed to be bootylicious, but I have pretty high tit standards (Cs and up or it doesn't count). Tobey Maguire. Stop it. Why don't you have lips. But still a good choice for Nick Carraway (although someone like Ewan McGregor could have pulled it off and been dead sexy). Leo was a perfectly overbearing wreck of a man as Gatsby and executed yet another water death (well I might add). Somebody needs to get that man some water wings.

Costumes/Props
Un. Real. I'm sure many of Carey's dresses were uncomfortable as eff, but that's what being a woman's all about! The Gatsby mansion is a man made marvel in which I could comfortably house each pair of my shoes in their own room and still have space to harbor everyone I know. And Gatsbys closet. O Em Gee. Carrie Bradshaw's panties would be sopping at the mere sight of that closet space. The cars would have a similar effect on anyone with an ounce of testosterone (and many without). I wonder if Leo gets to take any of them home...as if he needs any more props to solidify his lady killer status.

Score
The soundtrack is interesting. Jay Zs contributions really add to the expensive feel. Only truly rich people can sing about other rich people. Each scene was complimented very well with each song. It's a bit off when I jam to it in my Prius, but I like to pretend I'm a balla.

Everyone needs to see this movie. Stop reading and go see it. It exceeded my expectations on every level and for a true classic to be turned into a major blockbuster and me not to hate it, is a damn miracle (*cough* Narnia, Pride and Prejudice, Romeo and Juliet *cough*). This movie will make you want to tackle your wardrobe with Michael's sequins and drink champagne with your morning cheerios. It makes alcoholism look glamorous and abusive relationships look chic. I wouldn't have had it any other way. Five spilled martinis and a drunk text out of five.

Lolita - Nymphet or Nympho?

May 7, 2013

After the brain numbing experience that was 50 Shades of Grey, I needed to partake in some actual literature before delving in to the second part of the trilogy. I chose to stick with the theme and take a stab at a book that's been on my list for years - Lolita by Vladimir Nabukov.

The differences between James and Nabukov was astounding  and almost comical. When describing the throws of passion,  James depicted the alluring act:

"“Oh Ana!" he cries out loudly as he finds his release, holding me in place as he pours himself into me. He collapses, panting hard beside me, and he pulls me on top of him and buries his face in my hair, hold me close. "Oh baby," he breathes. "

and Nabukov wrote:

"...we would sprawl all morning, in a petrified paroxysm of desire, and take advantage of every blessed quirk in space and time to touch each other: her hand, half-hidden in the sand, would creep toward me, its slender brown fingers sleepwalking nearer and nearer; then, her opalescent knee would start on a long cautious journey; sometimes a chance rampart built by younger children granted us sufficient concealment to graze each other's salty lips; these incomplete contacts drove our healthy and inexperienced young bodies to such a state of exasperation that not even the cold blue water, under which we still clawed at each other, could bring relief."

FOR REAL. What a difference! I know that comparing wanna be BDSM fiction from 2011 with classic Russian literature from 1955 is like comparing Rebecca Black with Mozart but I'm going to anyways. So you need to deal with it.

Nabukov plunges head first into Humbert's pedopheliac tendencies, but he describes them in such a lovely way that it took me a few paragraphs to be disgusted: 

"Now I wish to introduce the following idea. Between the age limits of nine and fourteen there occur maidens who, to certain bewitched travelers, twice or many times older than they, reveal their true nature which is not to designate as "nymphets." Human, but nymphic (that is, demoniac); and these chosen creatures I propose."

Now how nice is that. If I was a kid about to be hit on by an old Russian man, I would totally want to be called a nymphet. Then I could wear sparkles and wings and not be a weirdo (or a stripper).

Weirdo or stripper? You decide.

Another reason I was okay with the strongly creepy verbiage of Lolita is that it's very self aware. Humbert fully admits that he's a creepshow and is slightly ashamed, but also concedes that it is what it is. Here we are again at "whatever floats your boat". It's almost lyrical how Nabukov describes our protagonists's book covering his raging boner while watching little girls play in the park or jacking off while watching a tween girl undress in her room across the street. Ahh the fancy-free days of yore.

As Humbert and Lolita's consensual abduction relationship continues, we learn that Lolita is not the young, virtuous, care free young girl Humbert likes to think of her as. She's a gold digging attention whore that likes to play games. She feeds Humbert's severe delusions and twists him around in such a way that makes Taylor Swift look sane.

The only persnickety comments I had were very minimal:

• During our "hero's" short marriage, he neglects his marital duties, calling his wife "stale" (which is fair I suppose when you're used to pre-pubescents), but is still infuriated when he finds out she's been cheating on him. Good riddance to stale rubbish I say! Although I must admit I found it hilarious that his idea of revenge consisted of sleeping with the lover's little sister and then shooting himself.

• He accepts room and board at a complete dump of a house because Lolita is the land lady's daughter.  My face was creased in disgust just reading the description of the hair in the bathtub and the brown apple core in the living room - but it's tolerable for some puerile ass? No man (or child) in the world could make me live in a hoarder's closet like the one Nabukov describes. 

• The awkward scene when he licks her eye. What, the eff.  Mmmm eye goop...?

• Lolita's a brat. Straight up. Spoiled and frankly quite annoying. She's lucky Humbert's attracted to her. Otherwise he probably would've used the discipline side of his hand on her for snooping around in his shit never mind employing her very overactive sexuality at the ripe age of TWELVE. *coughslutcough*

• Delores, or Lolita, reminds Humbert of his first love as a kid. This begs the question - is he really and truly a human incarnation of the pedo bear, or is he just stuck on his first girlfriend?

• Humbert keeps a log of his interactions with Lolita (1:32pm - she just took off her bandaid. Note to self: retrieve from garbage to add to Lolita shrine) which is naturally found by his fiance/Lolita's mother/his landlady. WHY would you keep a journal like that? At least encrypt it in some sweet code or something. I feel as though if Humbert's smart enough to fake insomnia to get sleeping pills to drug his bride to be and daughter, he can do a better job of hiding his lewd chicken scratch. 

• There's too many coincidences: 
• His first wife is cheating on him. With who you may ask? Oh the cab driver that just randomly picked them up. Handy.
• He doesn't want to get married to Lolita's stalker land lady of a mother. No problem, she'll get hit by a car before the wedding.
• The play Lolita's in is called "The Enchanted Hunter". The name of the hotel Humbert first bangs Lolita in is called "Enchanted Hunters". Hmm.

Nabukov deals out some serious poetic justice when Humber finds a knocked up Lolita near the end of the book. The whole "child with child" imaginary is as macabre as the rest of the well composed novel. 

All in all, I give Lolita 5 pedo bears out of 5. It's extremely creepy, but in the most beautifully written way possible. And when it comes down to it, isn't beauty all that matters? Well, beauty and girls that are too young to run fast I've learned.

50 Shades of Underwhelmed Indifference

May 5, 2013

My friends often get frustrated with me for ragging on their favorite books and movies. As much as I love to torment their tastes, I've always been a big supporter of "whatever floats your boat" and "to each their own". No matter how much I despise chick flicks and Harlequin romance novels, there's a reason they're still being created - so be it.

Recently, trilogies of books have been popping up, completely disparaging the term "literature". You know which ones they are. These necrophiliac themed tragedies have captured the hearts and imaginations of tweens and teens the world over (and a few select groups of sad adults). As un-enthralled as I was with the concept of bestiality and 107 year old virgins, I had to read the books before being able to make any valid argument against this series. And rest assured, I've now made my views very well known to my circle of friends (don't even get me started on the grammar error on page 619 in Eclipse). So when I found myself teasing my friends for reading 50 Shades of Grey, I had to stop myself and read the book before continuing my facetiousness. Here we go.

Plot:

I have to start by saying I applaud E L James' efforts to write a new-age romance novel. It certainly has shocked the masses, which is a great feat nowadays. As innovative as 50 Shades' subject matter may be, James does choose some good 'ol standbys that drive me MENTAL. 

• Anastasia Steele. *Sigh*. I can not express to you how tired I am of female leads that are supposedly mousy  innocent little flowers just ripe for the picking. I realize that these characters are most identifiable for the majority of the audience, but let's be serious. To land a guy as attractive, wealthy, emotional, well endowed, blah, blah, blah, as Mr. Grey, you'd need to be a 5'7 blonde smoke show with an affinity for Cirque Du Soleil style exercise. 

• Mr. Grey seems to be the most attractive male on the face of the earth. Every women who crosses his path is speechless at his dashing good looks, and all men are charmed by his witty fishing repartee. I don't doubt that he's a stud muffin, but how can he possibly appeal to every woman's taste? 90% of my friends are big fans of the illustrious Brad Pitt and Ryan Gosling, but I could take or leave them both. Neither are my style. Sure they're attractive, but my panties won't hit the ground with the velocity of a military jet at the sight of them. It all comes back to the "to each their own theory".

• Because of Christian's whole package (no pun intended), poor chaste Anastasia agrees, despite the disconcerting legal requirements, to become his sub. The dominant and submissive culture is actually very fascinating, but from what I can tell with my light Google research, 50 Shades of Grey represents the true culture of BDSM about as much as Ducktales represents the lifestyle of a Mallard. While Christian is opening Anastasia up to new experiences, it seems as though Anastasia is closing Christian off from his preferences. Who exactly is the dom here?

• After the first time Christian and Anastasia have sex, she acts like she's just been violated against her will. Sure, I get it that the first time can be a shock to the system, but if it was that traumatizing, why on earth would you continue with that man? When her bff, Kate, sees how upset Anastasia is, she's understandably concerned and infuriated. She plays the perfect role of the bff and immediately gets a hate on for Christian. Anastasia is inexplicably exasperated by her friend's loyalty (not to mention ragingly jealous of her looks). Grow up. 

• This inner goddess nonsense. Hey James - want to take a paragraph or two to explain to us why Anastasia is schizophrenic?

• Anastasia climaxes within moments. Every. Single. Time. I call bullshit.

• Is Anastasia anorexic?  Why does she hardly ever eat unless there's a man there to force it down her pretty little throat? Maybe Christian should pull an Alicia Silverstone and start pre-chewing Anastasia food for her.

The good stuff:

The sex scenes. Not bad. James certainly does have a knack for enthralling the reader and making their pulse race! Kudos.

Much to my dismay, there were a few gory details that absolutely demolished my raising heart rate. For one, the invariably mentioned condom process. We get it, they're having safe sex. The process ruins the fluidity and eroticism of the real act, and even more so of the written act. I could have over looked this lackluster verbiage if not for one particularly disturbing scene. Stay with me on this one. 

Grey: "When did you start your period Anastasia"

KBK: "UHHHHH...That's kinda, scratch that, VERY personal"

Anastasia: "Err...yesterday" I mumble in my highly aroused state

KBK: "How is this broad still aroused. This has gone from panty soup to panty desert in 6 words"

Grey: "Good." He releases me and turns me around. "Hold on to the sink," he orders and pulls my hips back again, like he did in the playroom, so I'm bending down. He reaches between my legs and pulls on the blue string...what?! and...gently takes my tampon out and tosses it into the nearby toilet.

KBK: "AHHHHHHHGHGHGHHHHHH that was SO unnecessary and SO gross. JESUS EFFING CHRIST. Mental image...I'll never sleep again"

Honestly James? Honestly? WHY. Why did you think it was sexy or necessary to invade the worst part of every woman's month and drag some poor unsuspecting guy in to it? If any guy ever wants to do THAT, it should be a big, flashing neon danger sign. Ugh. 

The vanilla sex James describes is just that. Vanilla. Her one and only BJ in the book is given an "A", but is chronicled as the most basic of BJs (common Ana - no ball play?). I refuse to believe that Mr. Grey is actually blown away (pun completely intended) by this 64 second oral display.

All in all, much to my dismay, I didn't hate 50 Shades of Grey. On a scale of Twilight to Alice in Wonderland, this lands just below a Sweet Valley High book and just above a Nicholas Sparks novel. This is not to say I would ever re-read the book, suggest it to my friends, or consider it literature, but for a mindless 2 hours, it'll do.