On BDSM And Writing About It (Or About Anything)

So there's a discussion going on in the comments of my last book review about an interview of E. L. James on BBC news this week and I had more thoughts than I could fit in a reasonable length comment so here they are.

James says that she read a couple of BDSM books that sparked her curiosity. I wish she had cited what particular books she'd read, or even what kind. Reading BDSM erotica is not the same as reading a BDSM how to do it guide, and as someone who doesn't know anything about it, I'm not even sure whether what she read really was BDSM and not some general erotica that had one spanking scene in it, or even an old copy of Cosmo she mistook for an actual book. But let's say she did. Reading two books is not a whole lot of research, particularly if you are going to go ahead and expand that limited knowledge into three books of your own. There are many facets of BDSM and people have many wide ranging and varying kinks. There is no one size fits all in the community. If she had done any real research, there would not be lines in these books about how Christian didn't have to have detailed conversations with his former subs because they were already experienced and knew what to expect. There would not be lines about Christian having to rub the feeling back into Ana's hands and feet all the time if she had done any reading about safe play (in fact, Ana wouldn't have been bound with cable ties to begin with, that is so dangerous). There would not be a line in Christian's contract that referenced maintaining a risk-free environment. There is no such thing. One of the things that greatly concerns me about these books are the number of people who claim is has changed their lives sexually. If these books caused them to seek out GOOD information about these topics, great, I'm happy for them. But I am also hearing a lot of people defend the quality of these books by saying how much they hate to read, but these books were GREAT! If the people saying that are the same people saying the books changed their lives, I am worried that a lot of people out there are going to wind up getting seriously hurt both physically and emotionally. Which in turn will perpetuate the stereotype that BDSM is sick and wrong and a desire for it indicates that one was abused at some point, or became broken in some sort of traumatic way.

 James says that from those handful of words, she became interested in what would happen if someone who wasn't into BDSM and knew nothing about it met someone who was. Again, if she was REALLY interested in how that would play out, doing the research to find out instead of making up some bullshit in her own head based on the stereotypes she holds about what kind of person would want to do this would not have been that hard because guess what? That happens ALL THE TIME. Seattle based sex-advice columnist Dan Savage (who I would recommend reading to anyone looking for sex positive advice of any kind) frequently points out that there are two kinds of people in the community: those who have always been that way and always knew that about themselves, and those who met/dated/married/fell in love with someone who had those interests and tried them out for their partner and discovered that they really really liked it. It happens a lot, and it happens a lot largely because of the stereotypes about people into BDSM. Because many people grow up with a lot of shame issues involving their kinks due to the way those kinks are perceived by society, and for many people it isn't until much later on in their lives - often after getting into a serious relationship or getting married - that they feel comfortable enough with themselves to come out about their kinks to a partner. So it turns out that scenario James was wondering about is actually pretty common. The woman lives in LONDON. It would not have been hard to find people who had been through this and ask them about it. All she would have to do is google BDSM sex clubs in London, email the contact person who runs it, and ask for help. Most people would have been happy to help educate her. They're good at it, they do it all the time with people who are new to the scene. For her to have written the story that she did in the way that she did it is horrifyingly irresponsible.

James also tells us in the interview that she didn't outline the story at all, that it just "came spilling out" of her. That really couldn't be more obvious. The story follows no logical progression whatsoever and often rambles on for pages and pages about the same thing whenever James got stuck on an idea. But she also makes a comment that when writing without an outline, all you have is what came before in your own story, and on that point I need to call bullshit on her. Because that statement would be true if she had bothered to go back and look at what she's written before, but it is painfully obvious that she doesn't. I have never read a book before whose main characters had such astonishingly inconsistent personalities. Even if you are writing without an outline, once you have established a character, you need to stick with the traits of that character. You can't write a Christian who maintains a mindblowing amount of control over every minute facet of his life, and then suddenly have him squirming and uncomfortable and unable to handle the situation without help when an architect doing work for him makes a pass at him. I'm not sure George R. R. Martin writes with a particularly detailed outline given that his planned trilogy is now going to span seven books (so far), only five of which are finished to date despite the fact he's been writing them for over 20 years. There are dozens of characters he has to keep track of, but every single one of those characters behaves the way the reader would expect them to behave because he thought about who all these people were and what defined each of them as a person before he started writing about them. The story grows out of the way those established characters interact with each other, not the other way around. To decide - on the fly, because you have no outline and no plan - how you want the story to go and then constantly contort your characters to behave in completely different ways from how they've acted before in order to fit some idea you had is a horrible way to write about anything.

The other thing James said in this interview is that she is "embarrassed" because so many men have now read her private fantasies. There would have been a very simple solution to that if the author weren't the real life embodiment of her fuckwit character Ana Steele, which is that if she had a fantasy she didn't want strange men to see, she shouldn't have WRITTEN IT DOWN IN A BOOK AND PUBLISHED IT.

Carol Of The Belts

I haven't talked nearly enough about how it's almost Christmas. Guess what you guys? IT'S ALMOST CHRISTMAS! Please enjoy this dose of Christmas cheer from Here Come The Mummies:

CHEESE

StereoNinja: What are you doing?

me: Boiling water

StereoNinja: tea?

me: Ravioli!

StereoNinja: oh I love ravioli
I think it is my favorite pasta

me: Depends what is inside, but yeah, ravioli is awesome

StereoNinja: meat
or mushroom

me: Today we have two kinds
Beef and Parmesan

StereoNinja: YES

me: And mozzarella and tomatoes

StereoNinja: NO

me: You don't like cheese ravioli?

StereoNinja: I do
I'm just not keen on mozzarella

me: NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

StereoNinja: it's a boring cheese

me: It's good with other things. It doesn't overwhelm everything with cheese taste

StereoNinja: exactly
it's very mild

me: I love it

StereoNinja: I like cheese that gets up, punches you in the face and then sleeps with your wife

50 Shades Furious

I read and review Fifty Shades Freed so you don't have to.

The hardest thing about reviewing this book, more so than the first two books, is the fact that nearly every scene has multiple things wrong with it, or shouldn't have happened at all, but most often both. It is getting increasingly hard to not write five paragraphs for any one of hers and explain both why the event would never have occurred at all, AND all the overlapping things that were ridiculous once it did. Also, since Christian and Ana are always both wrong for different reasons, I feel like I should maybe start keeping score of who was the least wrong in every argument so we can see who wins at the end (spoiler: it won't be ME). Keeping score of who is "winning" tends to be extremely harmful to relationships, but this relationship is going nowhere anyway, and frankly I just need something else to do besides scribble notes in all caps and do all the research the author should have done but didn't, otherwise I'm going to hurt someone and I don't want it to be me.

We start off Chapter 7 with Ana explaining that the mysterious saboteur in the server room is Jack Hyde, followed by Christian being pissy with her for knowing what her FORMER BOSS WHO TRIED TO RAPE HER looks like. Though in his defense, the way she describes that she knows it's him - the "line of his jaw", the "shape of his shoulders" - does make me wonder why she was examining him in such minute detail. But hey, maybe she was trying to memorize his build so she could give an accurate description of her assaulter to the police, and she just never got to because her idiot husband never bothered to tell the police. Advantage Ana. Anywhore, Barney in security positively identifies Jack Hyde using facial recognition software (in no universe does a company in Christian's line of work need any such thing unless he's secretly running a casino) and then assures Christian he will "also scan the city CCTV and see if I can track his movements." I almost wanted to give this one to James since she does live in a country that has CCTV everywhere, but it took me 5 whole minutes to do the research so no dice. Seattle has no city wide CCTV coverage. The state of Washington has traffic cameras on major roadways throughout the state, and I found a mention on Boing Boing about someone protesting the CCTV cameras that had been installed at four public parks in the city, but it was from 2008 and there hasn't been a word about it since. This is a good example of what I was talking about above: He can't check the city CCTV because it doesn't exist, but EVEN IF IT DID, you still can't (legally anyway) just hack into the city's CCTV system to track the movements of one specific person. You would need to inform the police who would then either use the CCTV or not at their discretion to find him IF they felt it was warranted. Knock it the fuck off, James, Christian isn't the goddamn Batman.

Ana then goes off to make sandwiches for them (sub sandwiches because HAHA GET IT?), which is where Christian finds her and makes some dumb comment about her being barefoot in the kitchen. Ana asks if he meant to add "and pregnant" and this is the first time it dawns on them to discuss whether either of them wants to have children and when. Three weeks AFTER the wedding. This discussion is short, and then they move on to the much more important topic of the plans for the new house. Fab, guys, you will make awesome parents. Ana asks if Christian wants to put in a playroom and he is completely taken aback by the question. Not because his sexually ignorant wife made such a bold suggestion, but because "this will be a family home." And god in heaven knows, you simply can't have kinks AND children at the same time. You know what? I'm actually fine with that particular stupidism, it just gives me one more fabulous reason to avoid breeding.

The next day, Ana goes to work ("You know you don't have to do this," Christian reminds her for the 423,346,348,936th time) and everyone but her assistant and the moron at the door are treating her with barely disguised hostility, which for once she has enough social awareness to know is because she was handed a job she didn't earn and isn't qualified for because her husband owns the company. Speaking of her husband, an hour after dropping her off he emails her to complain that his first email bounced back to him because she hasn't changed her email address yet. Which is because she didn't want to change her name and hasn't told him, but that doesn't make it any more reasonable to expect that the first thing she would do after three weeks away from a job she's only just learning how to do is to make fucking sure her email has her magic new married name attached to it. She responds to his email telling him she doesn't want to change her name at work and she will explain why later on at home. She doesn't get an email back and assumes this means he's ok. Honest to fuck, I don't understand how she can be the one married to him yet I know him about a trillion times better. You are in so much trouble, Ana.

The reason for his lack of a response becomes clear a couple hours later, when Christian (I am fucking serious, you guys, what in the shit does this man actually DO?) storms into the office to chew her out over this point. In the course of this, he manages to refer to her as an "asset" in need of "rebranding" and that he likes to stop by the companies he owns to keep management sharp and "wives in their place." IN THEIR PLACE. IN THEIR MOTHERFUCKING PLACE. I honestly don't give a shit whether Ana's argument is stupid or not, she has won this contest already (my contest, she has no hope of winning autonomy from her husband at her job). Not that I'm not angry with her. Because oh no, not wanting to change her name has hurt Christian right in his tender little feelings! She never wants to hurt his feelings! He just showed up to your job to put you in your place and call you an asset as if you were actual property that could be owned. FUCK his feelings. Fuck his feelings with an entire goddamn rose bush. Other completely retarded statements he makes during this argument:

• "I want everyone to know that you're mine."/"It's not enough." That she MARRIED him. She married him and it is NOT GOOD ENOUGH. MAYBE YOU SHOULD JUST SEW HER TO YOUR SHIRT LIKE A MERIT BADGE SO EVERYONE WILL KNOW.
• "I want your world to begin and end with me." Followed almost immediately by genuine shock that she feels suffocated. You could not be more suffocating if you held a plastic bag against her face with a pillow on top of it and a rope around her neck and you are underwater AND ALSO IN SPACE.

He goes on to explain that in addition to coming by to "deal with my errant wife" (Jesus fucking fuck), he also wanted to tell her that he was planning to change the name of the company to Grey Publishing (presumably because he just likes to see his name written on things since there is no real marketing reason to do this) and that in a year's time he's going to give it to Ana - as a wedding present. By the way, this is a wedding present she's going to spend the rest of this chapter and the next one repeatedly trying to explain to him she doesn't want. She has her dream job now, she doesn't know how to run a company, she doesn't WANT to run a company, she doesn't want anything at all to do with this plan. None of which matters, because Christian is on a roll now, trying to bribe her to do something she doesn't want to do by insisting that she do ANOTHER thing she doesn't want to do. But he's sure it will all be fine and here's why: "You are also the most well-read person I know." Because CLEARLY having read several books makes a person with no business experience and who couldn't find her head if it wasn't attached to her neck qualified to run a fucking company. How in the name of Lindsay Lohan's skidmarked underpants have you had any success in business EVER if these are the sort of business decisions you make? Where did you acquire these amazing skills, Christian, Enron? Why do I get the feeling that if anyone took a look at how your companies actually operate they would find nothing but fraud and waste and breathtaking corruption? Because I have not seen you make one single sound decision about anything business related AND you have time to STALK YOUR WIFE ALL DAY LONG EVERY SINGLE DAY, so it seems like the only way you could have built an empire like this is through fraud, crime, or suspiciously good luck (which is likely to turn out to be fraud or crime).

Sorry, I got a little off track there. Anyway, she eventually gives in to all his demands, but she's still angry about it when they get home  ("I thought we had sorted all this in your office." CHOKE ON A DICK) so they fight some more even though the outcome will ultimately be the same, mainly because James wants to have Christian say more misogynistic and patronizing things since SEXISM IS SUPER FUCKING ROMANTIC: "Don't be mad. You're so precious to me. Like a priceless asset, like a child." FUCK YOU CHRISTIAN, I HOPE YOU GET TEABAGGED BY A GANG OF ELEPHANTS.

Chapter 8 consists of three things: Ana behaves like a psycho, Ana gets off playing Tune In Tokyo, and Christian gets a haircut. Or if you look at it another way, one thing: Amber wonders if jumping out her third floor bedroom window will kill her or at least put her in a prolonged coma. Gia Matteo is the architect Christian and Ana have chosen to remodel their new house. She is, of course, one of the finest architects in all of Seattle if not the world. Ana despises her because she is obviously trying to steal Christian, but she doesn't want to fire her because her drawings are breathtaking. Even in terms of first world problems this isn't a problem. Guess what, Ana? There are other architects, and you have enough money to hire any or probably ALL of them. Fuck, you could probably afford to have Frank Lloyd Wright exhumed and have his body reanimated so he can build you a pretty house. HIRE SOMEONE ELSE. She's not going to consider the most obvious option though. No, instead when Gia comes over to discuss the drawings, Ana is going to dress like a tart, because hey lady, two can play the "I am a desperate slut with no self esteem" game! Certainly the most mature way to deal with people who dare think you have an attractive husband. This scene is one of the finest examples of "everything is wrong with it" I have ever seen. James has really outdone herself with this one. Because for starters what's about to happen would never actually happen. I don't care how good an architect you are, if you behave grossly inappropriately toward your clients, let alone right in front of their wives' faces, you will no longer have any clients. So when Gia comes in and virtually ignores Ana while getting uncomfortably close to Christian and flirtatiously touches his arm, I am once again reminded that E.L. James isn't going to let plausibility get in the way of writing the soap opera she wants to write. But even if you can suspend disbelief that the scene even exists, what happens in it STILL doesn't make sense. When Gia touches Christian, who we know from two and a half books worth of nauseatingly frequent reminders HATES TO BE TOUCHED and must CONTROL ALL THE THINGS, his response is to timidly take a step away from her, say nothing at all about it, and wait for Ana to come stand in between them, giving her a relieved look at being "rescued". THEN, when Christian leaves the room for some urgent matter with Taylor, Ana goes into full on jealous psychopath mode and threatens Gia several times to stay away from her man OR ELSE. And then another thing that would never happen happens: Gia becomes terrified of Ana and suddenly starts to treat her with respect. In real life, no commission is worth having to deal with an unhinged crazy bitch who has hallucinated some sort of threat to her marriage, and certainly not the greatest architect since god, and a real life Gia Matteo would have said "fuck this shit" and walked away from the job. The only thing that could have made this scene any more preposterous is if they got into an actual Jerry Springer style cat fight (it comes close though - Ana thinks to herself at one point "Yeah bitch, mine" which is exactly the kind of thing you would hear on Springer, but she doesn't say it out loud).

After that debacle and another several pages of the same argument about her name they've had twice already, Ana decides that Christian needs a haircut so she's going to do it all super romantic-like and drags him in the bathroom to sensuously wash his hair, which is when I make a horrified choking noise in my throat and write "please god no, don't do this." The haircut doesn't go so well at first because they haven't fucked in FIVE WHOLE MINUTES. The hair washing is interrupted by Christian who is overwhelmed with lust over it, so he ties Ana's hands behind her back with her underwear and more or less gives her a titty twister until she comes everywhere. While this is happening he tells her how beautiful her breasts are and how he's going to fuck them someday. I'm not sure why that day isn't today and actually right now, but I'm in better shape than Ana is over that statement: What the hell does that mean? she wonders. Oh my god, I hate you. Ok, fine, you've never done that before, but you are having sex ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE, you must understand the mechanics by now, you should be able to sort this one out yourself without breaking all three of your brain cells. When Ana comes (the second time) while sitting on Christian's magical Boner of Ecstasy, she starts crying, which she does pretty much every single time she has an orgasm, and frankly I hope she drowns in her emo, emo tears. Especially after she thinks "After all our arguing today, my frustration with him, his with me - we still have this." Holy bananas do you suck at life. Hey, at least we have sex since the rest of our relationship is fucking terrible!

Once Ana's teargasm has subsided, she remembers that the whole point of this exercise was to cut Christian's hair, so she goes down the hall to his study to get some scissors and two things happen. The first is that she happens to see Taylor and Mrs. Jones kissing and HOLY SHIT IT IS EXPLOSIVE NEWS. Just to Ana, though - Christian already knows and points out that they are both adults and single and free to do whatever the fuck they want. But Ana just can't wrap her head around this because - no, for real this is her ACTUAL reason - "I always thought Mrs. Jones was older than Taylor." The woman ALWAYS has to be younger, how else will the man be able to romantically treat her like a helpless child? YOU ARE SUCH AN ASSHOLE ANA. The second thing that happens is while going through Christian's desk looking for scissors she finds a gun. Fully loaded. In an unlocked drawer. Despite multiple attempts on his life, a high speed car chase, and a mentally unstable ex stalking them, Ana is totally perplexed about why Christian would have a gun. I am only perplexed by the fact that every other sentence out of Christian's mouth hole is about how he is so afraid of anything ever happening to Ana, and keeping a loaded weapon in an unlocked drawer in an unlocked room in an apartment housing at least two other people besides Christian and Ana that has already had its security breached once by a woman who was so disoriented she couldn't even wash herself is pretty much the definition of asking for an accident to happen in which Ana gets killed. In fact, the only law of gun safety he hasn't violated right here is that he apparently doesn't sleep with a loaded gun under his fucking pillow. YET. P.S. This is the second gun you've mentioned in this alleged love story, Ms. James...you DO know that the stereotype of "every single American owns a gun" is not actually true, right? Right? Ana doesn't mention the gun to Christian when she goes back to finish cutting his hair, because if there's one thing they are both good at, it's never ever discussing anything important until it becomes a fucking crisis. Instead the chapter ends with her cutting his hair, another argument about her running a company, her fundamentally misunderstanding something he said earlier in a way that makes him panic, and frantic, desperate sex that solves everything. So, basically EXACTLY THE SAME FUCKING THING AS EVERY OTHER SHITTY PAGE OF THIS SHITTY ASS BOOK OF SHIT. SHIT.

Oh, the tally for these two chapters is Ana - 2, Christian - nil (I am counting the half dozen fights about the same fucking thing as just one long extra stupid thing).

More Lame Excuses

I've started writing a couple different posts for today, but one will never be finished in time (the next review, which will only cover two chapters because HOLY BALLS ALL OF THE STUPID), and the other one I got 90% finished with before I realized I wasn't emotionally prepared to post that announcement yet (or maybe I am, but I need to talk to a few more people so they don't find out the news from my blog instead of in person because they will be maybe not so pleased if I tell the entire internets first). So basically, you get a new review tomorrow!, a new video maybe tomorrow, but definitely soon (it's being edited), and a major life announcement whenever I stop dragging my feet and tell my family anything that goes on in my life.

In much more important news, there are ONLY 47 DAYS LEFT UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY.

Factory Of False Hope

So the Browns beat the Steelers today for the first time in years and only the third time in their last 25 meetings. Which I'm happy about, but, you know, not actually happy, just Browns happy. Because the hardest thing about being a Browns fan is that over time you will learn to never, ever get excited. They will let you down in the end if you give them enough time. With all the other sportsball teams I follow, when my team has a lead I can relax and enjoy the game. When the Browns have a lead, I can't enjoy anything because I am just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I spent all of the last three minutes of today's game with my eyes squeezed shut and my heart pounding with anxiety wondering how they would screw it up. They didn't, and I got to be genuinely happy at the end of the game. For about 12 seconds. Until it dawned on me we have to play them again on their home field in a month and Ben Rapistberger will probably be back by then and oh yeah, I'm a Browns fan. Let's try to enjoy it (well, Browns enjoy it) while it lasts, other Browns fans, before we go back to this:

Meaningless Post To Make My Quota

I made a video today after getting drunk with StereoNinja which may or may not make any sense. I tried watching it, but I was gesturing a lot and it was making me dizzy since I was still drunk. Then I passed out. Then I woke up in the middle of the night from Fringe nightmares (I KNEW IT) and remembered that I didn't get around to posting anything for today. Then I wrote this crappy explanation and (hopefully) went back to sleep. Worst NaBloPoMo post ever. But a video is coming, so there's that.

Damn You, Science Channel

I've spent almost the entire day today watching Fringe on Science Channel, which is really, really stupid because this is exactly the sort of show that will give me nightmares. After I collapsed from making dinner for five hours and then eating the crap out of it yesterday, I spent a good part of the evening watching Dark Matters, also on the Science Channel, which I got completely obsessed with last season even though it scares the shit out of me. So basically, the Science Channel is stealing my days and is probably about to steal my night as well. If that show about extrasolar planets is on tomorrow I might end up fused to the couch forever. DAMN IT, SCIENCE, STOP BEING INTERESTING.

Things I Learned This Thanksgiving

1. My least favorite knife to cut myself with while cooking is a serrated bread knife.
2. The Jets suck even worse than I thought, and I thought they sucked giant purple donkey balls.
3. Eating 900 pounds of food makes me too tired to get drunk. I'll do it tomorrow.
4. Getting drunk is a weird chore anyway.
5. Jason Bourne is delicious.

Thanksgiving Eve And Responsibilities

Many apologies for the very late (ok, fine, backdated, but only by like half an hour - if I were in California right now this would totally count) and mostly substanceless NaBloPoMo post today. It's the day before Thanksgiving here in America, or as I like to call it "Practice Christmas" (I am the only person who calls it that as well as the only person who thinks it's funny), which meant that after I got home from work I needed to bake a pie, cube some bread, clean the dining room, and take Jason Bourne swimming. I should point out that Jason Bourne is what I named our turkey this year due to his being super fucking awesome but having no idea who he is.

WHAT IS TREADSTONE?!?

 Depending on how much of a cheeseball you are, you may find that name not quite as hilarious as what I named my turkey last year, Tennille. Right before he went in the oven I set the bottle of Captain Morgan I was drinking next to him so I could take a photo of The Captain and Tennille. Tennille Two wouldn't have worked for this turkey though since the only rum I have in the house right now is Sailor Jerry*. ANYWANK - Jason Bourne went swimming for a few hours in a pool of brine I lovingly made him so he can be all nice and juicy when I cook his awesome ass tomorrow, assuming he doesn't somehow reanimate in the middle of the night and kill me with his amazing headless turkey stealth. My point is I had a lot to do, as I will tomorrow, so that post will probably be some rambling bullshit just like this. THE GOOD NEWS IS that I plan to get drunk at dinner and then do some reading after the bartender goes to work, which is likely to lead to a video of the result. If we're very lucky, StereoNinja will be able to garner a few minutes that make sense and where I'm not making out with the camera lens and then you guys will get to see it. He is a genius. Though not a real ninja**.

One other Thanksgiving fact for you guys: The number of times I will have to see Planes Trains and Automobiles to be able to watch it without crying at the end is somewhere between infinity and whatever is bigger than that.

*Also that would be funnier if I spelled it Tennille Too. Shut up, I'm really tired.
**OR IS HE?

I Have The Coolest Readers

Here's how you know you've made it, internet-wise. I was hanging out on Twitter yesterday with a couple of friendly Bizzybiz readers (Hi!) and they told me they invented a drinking game based on my reviews:


@amberance We've turned your reviews into a drinking game. Drink when you laugh. Drink when Ana is a moron. Drink when Christian is a dick...


I mentioned they may be endangering their livers. StereoNinja thinks they should film it. He is also jealous because he is not a drinking game. (He is also not really a ninja*.)Point is, A DRINKING GAME HAS HAPPENED AND YOU GUYS SHOULD TOTALLY PLAY IT.

* OR IS HE?

50 Shades Ridiculous

It has become clear to me that E.L. James watched every Bond movie ever back to back before writing the second two books, because it is obvious she has a checklist of things that are "exciting" and she is bound and determined to include every single fucking one of them regardless of how regoddamndiculous they are or whether they do anything to advance the overall plot. But we'll come back to that.

The nonsense in Chapter 4 begins right off the bat. Ana decides she wants to go shopping in town and also take the jet ski to shore, but when she tells Taylor this he visibly shrinks back and says that allowing her to do any such thing would imperil his job. This is 100% true and I'm not sure why he doesn't get a better job. Ana's not having it, because she's a strong confident woman who can make her own decisions! Except, you know, NO SHE FUCKING ISN'T. So she marches into Christian's office and announces in no uncertain terms that she is going shopping and will be taking the jet ski to do so. This is the claim she makes to Taylor anyway. In reality she is flat out lying to him because her husband terrifies her. What she REALLY did was go into his office and meekly state that she would like to go shopping and will take security with her, without ever mentioning the jet ski. He approves this plan, she points out, without asking any other questions, because he is preoccupied with the fire back in Seattle, the implication being that if he were not distracted she would have been grilled endlessly about her intentions on this "shopping" trip. Such a trusting marriage already, three weeks in! I write in my notes "this relationship is sickening."

Outside, Taylor is teaching her how a jet ski works, which takes ages, and then once she gets it going, instead of going to shore she decides to race full speed around the boat a couple times, drawing Christian out onto the deck. Guess who is not happy? And guess who, just as he predicted, gets an irate phone call from Christian asking what in the actual fuck he was thinking letting Christian's completely inept wife ride a jet ski ALL BY HERSELF? Once on shore, Taylor relays Christian's displeasure to Ana who is instantly remorseful - Christian has so much else to deal with, and then she goes and upsets him by doing something any normal adult married to another normal adult should not need "permission" to do! How could she do this to him? What was she thinking? I'm left confused again, as I am more and more with every turn of the page. Is Christian an unreasonable, controlling, abusive prick? Or is Ana a thoughtless, self centered, entitled princess who is also genuinely incapable of handling the responsibilities of an adult? Or both? HELP ME YOU GUYS I DON'T KNOW WHO TO HATE ANYMORE.

So Ana goes shopping and buys herself a little ankle bracelet for 5 euros because she is just not comfortable wearing that 30,000 euro bracelet from Christian and money won't change her you guys! SHUT. UP. Telling me the exact cost of the inexpensive things you buy does nothing to make you appear LESS obsessed with money. Look at you. We know who you married. If a broke ass recent graduate you were dating tried to treat you the way Christian treats you you would be out of there in a heartbeat. You married for money, Ana, so why don't you just go ahead and own it? She also decides to get Christian a present - a camera for taking photos of her (which apparently he can't do with the camera he already owns). Thing is, she doesn't know shit about cameras. Not a problem though, because Jose does! So she calls him, waking him up since it's the middle of the goddamn night in Portland, but fuck it, the whole world revolves around Ana, why be considerate of anyone else?

When Ana gets back, Christian is mercifully already over her transgression with the jet ski, but if they aren't going to fight about that, they are sure as fuck going to argue about something else, so when Ana gives Christian his new camera and tells him what she's hoping he'll do with it, instead of being excited it makes him fucking miserable. Christian, you see, has only ever taken photos of his lovers for the purposes of blackmail. At no time ever did it occur to him that he could actually also use them as wank fodder. He finds the gift confusing. Would taking nudie pics of his wife AT HER OWN REQUEST make him a misogynist? Is this the slippery slope that will lead him back to the path of darkness and dysfunction that James feels characterizes all BDSM activities? Christian shuts down and won't talk to her, so Ana goes into a tailspin for many pages wondering how she went so wrong and does this have something to do with his dead mother and what can she do to fix this huge mistake...the only thing I write in this whole section is "MELODRAMA". I don't even remember how she manages to bring him back to his happy place. All I know it that eventually they fuck and it solves everything, exactly the way life works in real life.

The next day, after an afternoon at Versailles, Ana is online checking her email to make sure everyone is missing her the appropriate amount when a fucking miracle happens: KATE INSTANT MESSAGES HER ON SKYPE. I write "FINALLY JESUS FUCK." Ana has finally discovered something on the internet that people decades her senior who did not even grow up having constant access to the internet have been using with great success and regularity for years. Ana, we also have these amazing things called electric lightbulbs that let you see stuff at night, you should check them out, it's way beyond our time. Anyway, Kate and all of Seattle are abuzz about the fire and wondering if it is arson. Christian has confirmed previously that this was the case, and apparently someone did eventually bother to inform the police, but Ana can't tell Kate because for some reason SHHH DIS A SEKRET.

Chapter 5 - The Stupid Explodes. The honeymoon is over, and for some reason Christian and Ana take a commercial flight home. And while jet lag is absolutely to be expected in this situation, Ana's amazement that she's been awake for eighteen whole hours in a row! is not impressive to me. When you get up to around 30 hours or more, call me and I'll tell you about the time that not only was I up for that long, but my evil friends in Hitchin got me completely pissed AND THEN I got up at 7 the next morning and rode roller coasters the entire day. This is point where we begin all manor of in your face foreshadowing about Ana's pregnancy, with Christian pointing out that Ana has "put on a little weight" on their honeymoon. Later, Ana asks if Christian would ever let her drive the Audi and he tells her yes but  not to dent it and she gets SUPER FUCKING PISSED because he OBVIOUSLY LOVES HIS CAR MORE THAN HE LOVES HER. PREGNANT BITCHES BE CRAZY Y'ALL.

The next day they go over to his parents' house for the day and Ana is bitchy and out of sorts the entire time because I wonder if she's pregnant. After the party, Christian tells her that now is her chance and she can drive the Audi! Elated at this show of trust, she respects it and drives carefully home. Haha just kidding! She IMMEDIATELY fucking floors it the second they are out of the driveway and leaves their security team in the dust. Eventually she slows down when she realizes she has upset Christian, surprised as always that her irresponsible selfish actions get her the exact reaction she intended. It is at this point that Christian gets a phone call setting off a series of events that made me throw the book across the room twice. THEY ARE BEING FOLLOWED YOU GUYS. The security team knows this because there is a car with fictitious plates directly behind them. At no point is it explained how they managed to run someone's plates without the help of the police or access to the state motor vehicle database, or whether or not they are running the plates of every single car Christian shares the road with just in case there's bad guys lurking. Christian and the security team know exactly what to do, though: they instruct Ana that when she gets to the highway, she should start driving as fast as she can. Ana is concerned about this because oh my god, what if she gets pulled over by the police and gets a ticket? Christian tells her, rightly, that that would actually be a good thing because then the police would be involved. What he does not do, nor anyone else in their entourage, is ACTUALLY CALL 911 AND INVOLVE THE POLICE. (throws book) For once Ana does as she is told. She pushes the car past 110 miles an hour and additionally weaves recklessly in and out of traffic and cuts across multiple lanes because a good way to solve the problem of someone chasing you is to make sure you also endanger the lives of every single other person on the road by driving like a fucking asshole. And hey, as long as you're not calling the police to report a suspicious car following you, why not also decide not to drive directly to the nearest police station like a sane person would, and instead lead your pursuer STRAIGHT TO YOUR FUCKING HOME? (throws book) Actually, they didn't, they pulled off in a parking lot a couple blocks from home to see if the mysterious pursuer would notice. He/she doesn't and instead proceeds to their home and, according to security, "cases the joint". I don't have time to wonder exactly what the fucking plan would have been if they HAD been followed into the parking lot, because Ana is so shaken up from the experience that they are going to have to fuck right there in the car, immediately, even though someone apparently wishing them harm is still driving around somewhere looking for them. I don't even

In Chapter 6 they get back to the apartment. It turns out the car sex just wasn't enough sex to calm Ana's frayed nerves, so they end up spending the bulk of the chapter in the playroom having what would be entirely forgettable sex if it weren't the first time Ana had a tiny butt plug up her ass. Also, she is bent over (gasp!) a table! That husband of hers is so very naughty. She actually says naughty right there. Once the sex is over and everything has calmed down, Christian has a minor freak out because if something happened to Ana he wouldn't know what to do with himself. Not that this stopped him from telling her to drive like wannabe crash test dummy just an hour before. Christian goes off to get "debriefed" on the situation by his security team (who also get screamed at for losing them in traffic since they should be omniscient and know his dumb ass wife is going to drive like she stole the damn thing), and Ana decides she's going to wash the butt plug, despite the fact that she knows nothing at all about sex toys or how to properly sterilize them. On the way, she runs into the housekeeper and becomes super embarrassed because she probably knows that Ana and Christian have sex, a fact which no one except Ana would find scandalizing and in fact they probably don't ever think about it at all. Ana takes this opportunity to continue complaining about how very hard it is to be rich and have a staff. I write "go fuck bears."

Ana goes off to the library to have a think, not exactly one of her strengths. She first thinks about how badly Christian is going to react when she tells him she wants to continue to go by the name Steele professionally, especially since they argue constantly about whether she should be working at all. I am confused again. In real life, I think the decision to change one's name to that of one's spouse is a personal decision and none of anyone else's business. I have no plans to ever get married, but if I did I certainly wouldn't want to change mine, I fucking love my surname. If it were that important to my spouse that we have the same name, I'd be happy to share mine. However, in this case, Ana HAS changed her name to Grey, she only wants to use Steele "professionally". Again, lots of people do this, but most of those people have established careers at the point where they make this decision. Ana is 21 years old and has been working in publishing for about two months now, three weeks of which she was away on her honeymoon. She has no established career. Based on her character and how desperately she wants to morph with Christian into a single physical entity, I feel like the only reason for her to make this decision is because James wants them to fight over it. They will, I'm sure, even though Christian's OWN MOTHER goes by her maiden name professionally. Anyway, after she thinks about that, she downloads the photos off the memory card from Christian's new camera and discovers he has covertly taken HUNDREDS of photos of her. YOU GUYS ISN'T THAT SO ROMANTIC AND NOT FUCKING CREEPY AT ALL? Ana is suddenly overwhelmed by her feelings for Christian, because WHAT IF SOMETHING EVER HAPPENED TO HIM? so she runs sobbing into his office to "check that he's safe." She finds him on the phone with a security guy from his office, which in no way stops her from climbing into his lap like a frightened child. Christian is looking at his monitor, where the security team has enhanced the video from inside the server room showing a mysterious figure lurking there on the day of the fire. Ana looks up from her weeping and realizes that HOLY SHIT she knows who it is!

Guess what? It's her ex-boss/attempted rapist Jack Hyde! Thank god someone solved that mystery! I was beginning to fear we would never know who wants to kill Christian. Besides me.

50 Shades Bonus Video #1

I've done the reading and I'm going to start writing the next review in a few hours following 1) a nap and 2) football watching. In the meantime, here is the video of my spare notes from the first three chapters. Please disregard my frequent gesturing to my crotch. Or don't, I don't know your preferences.

Bah Humbug

The bartender and I have spent the past few days arguing because we can't figure out what to get each other for Christmas this year.

The bartender: See? I'm easy to buy for. You can get me Dragon software, and a little bottle of cologne...

Me: That's two things.

The bartender: It's two more than you.

Me: I already said! You can get me socks with kitties on them...

The bartender: Great. Socks.

Me: ...and...another pair of kitty socks...See? That's two things right there.

The bartender: Oh my god, shut up.

Silver Medal Try, But No

Despite advice to the contrary from an interested party with ulterior motives, posting a strategically framed photo of myself nude and inviting my readers to play a game I invented called "Tits or Knees" is not something I am actually drunk enough to do. I probably was at the time of suggestion, but then I drank a crap ton of milk and watched old episodes of Doctor Who for three hours until I sobered up enough to realize that that was dumb and to type well enough for spell check to guess what I was actually trying to say. Sorry, pervs.

Besides, it was definitely knees.

AGAIN.

You know what would be awesome? If people who moved into my building actually knew their address. Alternatively, it would be awesome if the utility companies did anything at all to verify that they have the correct address before closing someone's account.

I got a "final bill" today from my electric company. I did not at any point cancel my service and I enjoy having electricity as it is hard to power a laptop with hamsters on wheels and I have a blog to write, so I did something that I absolutely dread and phoned the electric company to find out what the hell was going on. Thing is though, I already knew what was going on. Someone new moved into my building and called to set up their service, but didn't quite know what unit number to use and ended up giving them mine. Then the electric company cancelled my account despite my not calling to say I was moving because hey! Why double check that? The reason I know this is what happened is because this is the THIRD TIME. The last time it happened I not only had to call, argue with, and eventually go through the hassle of setting up a new account (for whatever reason if they close your account by accident they can't just reopen it, you have to get a whole new account number, and then re-set up any electronic bill delivery or payment you had going on before which takes a month or two to kick in, it is SUPER CONVENIENT), but I also spent several months arguing with the post office because they stopped delivering my mail, which I eventually solved not because of anything they did to help me but because I outsmarted them.

So far my gas bill appears to be fine, but I will be watching my mailbox like a hawk for the next few days because I ordered a shit ton of Christmas presents that I need before the end of the month or I will not be a happy bunny.

In completely unrelated news, I have just recorded a video with my outtake notes from the first three chapters and have sent it to StereoNinja who will hopefully make my aimless ranting into some kind of coherent order worthy of the internets.

I Got Nuthin'

I'm having some serious writer's block tonight, either because I did actual work all day long and nothing interesting happened, or because two and a half hours of stripper classes is fucking exhausting. Therefore, I will be cheapening the NaBloPoMo experience tonight by simply posting a video of something else that has nothing to do with me, other than this being the woman who just put me through an evening of very fun torture that I will no doubt be paying for with soreness for the next two days.

Here is Michelle L'Amour in "The Most Naked Woman".


Michelle L'amour in "The Most Naked Woman" from franky vivid on Vimeo.

H-Town Rescues Me From The Internets

H-Town:  jesus christ on a pogo stick

a facebook friend just shared "I Fucking Love Science's" FB photo for today

DO NOT LOOK AT IT

 

me:  It has to be spiders. now i am afraid.

no facebook for me today

 

H-Town:  yeah, it's spiders

and it's awful

don't risk it

 

me: there needs to be another facebook page called "Fuck You, Science" where they put all the horrible things

50 Shades Tedious

I read and review Fifty Shades Freed so you won't have to.

Reading this book is absolutely draining. I am four chapters in and I'm still waiting for there to be any kind of plot at all. So far it's been nothing but stupid fights, boring fucks, and Ana reciting the monetary value of every fucking thing Christian touches. Also I've become a terrible person, because despite Christian's terrible and blatantly abusive behavior, I find myself constantly engaging in victim blaming. 

The book opens with the now obligatory prologue in which Christian has a nightmare/flashback about hanging out with the corpse of his dead mother, then wakes up and tells Ana that she's the only one who can save him from his epic sad, which is basically the same thing as saying "if you ever leave me I'll kill myself". So, you know, off to fun, abusey start.

Chapter 1 starts (depending on which estimate of time you want to use, since James couldn't decide and had Ana make several contradictory statements) either a month or six weeks after the last book ended, meaning Ana and Christian have known each other roughly three months. THEY ARE ON THEIR HONEYMOON. Lest you think (as I did before all my hopes were crushed) we get to skip all the inane melodrama we know ensued in between, James has adopted a new writing style that involves constant flashbacks preceded by terribly contrived set ups. In the present, though, Ana and Christian are on a beach in the south of France, having a scream inducing conversation about whether Christian would be ok with Ana taking her top off on the beach. Surprising no one, he would not. In fact, he is not particularly happy with her being dressed only in a bikini as it is. ON THE BEACH. Ana thinks to herself "Oh, Christian...my possessive, jealous, control freak Christian." because it is SO ROMANTIC to be threatened and controlled constantly. I write in my notes "I hope he kills you."

They decide to go for a swim, during which Christian jokes that they should fuck in the water in full view of everyone. Ana gets very excited at this prospect. Apparently she just met her husband five minutes ago - the idea that he would allow anyone else to view her having sex is absolutely ludicrous and it is proof of Ana's monumental stupidity that she thinks this is something that could actually occur. The entire point of the scene is to set up a situation where Ana feels she needs to do something childish because she didn't get exactly what she wanted: "...what can I do to get him back?" she thinks, before deciding the obvious thing to do is take her top off exactly the way he just told her not to.

Before we get to the fight scene though, it's time for a flashback to their wedding, at which every single person she knows warns her that she's making a huge mistake, including herself: "Marry in haste, repent at leisure. The saying haunts me." Oh everyone, except her mother that is. Carla's well reasoned parental advice is to remind Ana that men are from a different planet. Excellent, I'm sure that hyperbolic and vague statement will solve all their problems.

After the wedding, Ana and Christian are driven to the airport by Taylor so they can leave on their honeymoon. Here James inserts one of her most utterly stupid details to date when she has Taylor drive Ana and Christian right onto the tarmac at the airport without having to stop and prove to a single person who they are or that they belong there. Clearly James was visiting Mars on the day people decided to fly planes into the tallest buildings on the planet 11 years ago. It's the only excuse for thinking it would be possible to do anything like what she wrote.

Ana and Christian get on his private plane and meet the flight crew. We've been to this party before: Ana is out of her element because ermigerd a private plane! and is instantly jealous of every damn person they'll be flying with because every one of them is eyefucking the shit out of Christian. Christian finally condescends to tell her where they are going on their honeymoon (a decision in which she had no input whatsoever). They are going to London, and then Paris, and then the south of France. But before they get to London they have to stop to refuel. In Ireland. Which, if you have enough fuel to get to Ireland I imagine you probably have enough to get to England. I checked the commercial airlines and you can fly non-stop from Seattle to London, but even the one stop flights all stopped somewhere near the middle of the trip like in Vancouver or New York. Refueling 8 hours into your 9 hour flight is ridiculous. After dinner it's time to fuck, but not before Ana is astonished to find out that you can, in fact, fuck in an airplane ("oh...here?") and then three sentences later remembering that that is actually a thing ("...the mile high club. I've heard about this.") Awful sex happens, and then he makes a comment about touching down in the Emerald Isle and Ana thinks "Oh my...I'd forgotten. Europe." Which he told her about five fucking minutes ago and she was SO EXCITED as she has always wanted to go to Europe. You didn't forget Ana. Your creator is just a terrible writer.

FLASHBACK OVER and TIME TO FIGHT! Chapter 2 starts with Christian in the blindest rage we've seen from him yet standing over a topless Ana, screaming at her about the fact that she can be seen by both the security crew that trails them everywhere (seriously) AND the paparazzi, because Christian is so famous and important. Mind you they are on a topless beach and Ana points out rightly that wearing her bikini top makes her stand out even more since she's the only person wearing one. However, I have sided with her abuser and I hate myself for it. Should Christian dictate what she does and doesn't wear 100% of the time and fly into a blind rage every time she is disobedient? Of course not, but she knows perfectly well who the fuck she married, in fact she finds it FUCKING ADORABLE, so if she's going to DELIBERATELY FUCKING ANTAGONIZE HIM on a near CONSTANT basis, I'm sorry, but she does not get to act surprised when he flies of the handle and she ESPECIALLY doesn't get to say things like "I thought Christian would see the funny side..." NO YOU FUCKING DIDN'T. YOU FUCKING KNEW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN YOU BRAINLESS FUCKING FUCK.

Christian decrees that they are going back to the boat they are staying on. He and Ana are taking the jet ski, the security crew (Taylor, and a couple French guys named Philippe and Gaston because of course they are) are following in the motorboat. There is no explanation given at any time of why they can't just all go in the motorboat. Back at the boat Christian outwardly appears to calm down when Ana asks if she's going to be punished. I, however, do not calm down, because his answer to that question is "Anastasia, you're my wife, not my sub." I write "Those aren't mutually exclusive things you judgemental prick." He goes on to talk about the boat they are on and how unfathomably rich he is. The boat belongs to a British knight, whose daughter is married to "one of the crown princes of Europe." It is apropos of nothing really, but James hasn't worked out how to be subtle about her new found literary device, so this conversation has to happen so that Ana can ask if the knight is rich like Christian because he needs to respond "and like you" because it's time for another flashback about the prenup argument. The wavy lines and "doo-doo-ly-doo, doo-doo-ly-doo" from Wayne's World is much more subtle than this.

In the flashback, Ana and Christian are sitting around with his parents and siblings, chilling and reading the paper, when Mia finds an article about the engagement which contains the joking line "Bet she's reading one helluva prenup." Christian obviously has no intention of there being any prenup because HE'S IN LOVE, even though he is a billionaire and she is drowning in student loan debt, not to mention the fact that they barely know each other and fight fucking constantly. His father is not a fan of this plan, and his entire family proceeds to argue about this with him as though Ana were not sitting right there in the same fucking room, proving that money buys neither tact nor class. I hate all these fucking people.

FLASHBACK OVER and ALMOST TIME TO FUCK. But first two things happen: Ana begins her obnoxious litany of narrating the cost of every single thing Christian buys her, and she escalates the descriptions of what her subconscious is doing to heretofore unseen heights of absurdity. In case you were wondering (I was not), her bikini that she only bothered to wear half of cost what Ana believes to be the obscene amount of $540. In the glamorous world of Hollywood, that would be considered a bargain. To her multi-billionaire husband it's the equivalent of a nickel. On the way to fuck, Christian tells her not to pee and "My subconscious looks up from her book - The Complete Works of Charles Dickens, Volume One - with alarm." No. Goddamn it, James, NO. YOU DID NOT JUST SPECIFY THE TITLE OF THE BOOK HER SUBCONSCIOUS IS READING. THAT IS FUCKING RETARDED. Why is is this being allowed? Why hasn't every keyboard and writing implement in her home been confiscated?

During fuck time, Christian handcuffs Ana's wrists to her ankles. It's a good thing he's her husband and not her Dom (you can NEVER be both), because he puts these handcuffs on way too tight for anything remotely resembling safe play. Later when he takes them off he will have to rub feeling back into all her extremities, and she will wind up with deep bruising from it. She is very lucky she didn't have permanent nerve damage. For anyone who is still foolish enough to be reading this book for sex advice, I beg of you to ignore this entire scene, it is extremely dangerous.

After the sex (and an orgasm that leaves her sobbing. SOBBING), she heads to the bathroom for that piss she wasn't allowed to take earlier, and is incensed to discover that Christian has left hickeys all over her chest. How she managed to not notice this while it was happening is anybody's guess. It is obvious that Christian has marked her like this ON PURPOSE in order to prevent her from ever sunbathing again. Her reaction to this temporary problem, which actually could easily be fixed except for the fact that Ana has apparently never heard of MAKE UP, is on par with how a normal person would react to being chloroformed and waking up to find their entire body has been covered in tattoos depicting their mom fucking various farm animals. She throws a hairbrush at him and runs out of the room where they proceed to have a massive screaming match on the deck. I honestly can't remember what makes her finally calm down, but then they fuck and everything is fine.

The next day they go into town and everything out of Ana's mouth irritates the living fuck out of me. Christian  wants to buy some art for the new house, and Ana is totally freaked out because she doesn't "know how" to buy art. Let me help you with that difficult procedure, Ana. The best way to buy art is to go look at some art, pick out something that you like, and then FUCKING BUY IT. You aren't running a fucking gallery, you twat, you are decorating your own goddamn house. Jesus Christ. Eventually she picks out some paintings of peppers that she likes and is shocked, SHOCKED at their astronomical cost of 5 thousand euros each. Again, for Christian this is pocket change, but the fact that her plan is to hang this fine art in her kitchen leads me to kind of agree with her - if you are going to ruin your pepper paintings with grease and smoke, you can probably find paintings of peppers for about 5 euros each at a nearby IKEA. All day long Christian has been fretting about the bruises on her wrists from the handcuffs he doesn't know how to safely use. He decides to solve the problem by buying her a bracelet to cover them up. The bracelet cost him 30 thousand euros. I want to liquefy Ana's eyeballs with my thumbs.

On the way back from super expensive shopping day, Christian gets a call from Seattle - there has been a fire in the server room at Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc. headquarters. Despite suspecting it's arson, Christian inexplicably instructs his people not to call the police or the fire department. This is the same thing he did when a deranged woman with a gun was running around town trying to kill Ana, and short of his company being a secret criminal enterprise or Christian having delusions that he is some kind of vigilante superhero it makes no fucking sense. There's no serious damage thanks to the argon gas fire suppression system. When Ana hears the word argon she thinks "It rings a distant bell from chemistry class - an element, I think." Congratulations, Einstein, argon IS an element! One of the noble gases on the right hand side of your periodic table, a fact I know without looking it up because it's a common element everyfuckingbody has heard of, and which is commonly used as a fire suppressant in server rooms because it doesn't damage the equipment like a water suppression system would. Ana's a girl, you guys! Science is hard! I hate this book worse than E.L. James hates her own gender. Incidentally, if Jack Hyde spent half as much time looking for work as he did trying to kill Christian he'd have another job by now.

So that's the first three chapters. Much like the other book, I took a shit ton of notes about things I hated that I haven't addressed in this review because if I did my reviews would literally be longer than the actual books.  What I'm going to do instead is make some videos as I go along where I talk about some of the other terrible stuff that bothers me, usually things that happen again and again on every page and do nothing to advance the plot. I'll post them as supplemental material on my YouTube channel. There is also a video up of me reading and reacting to the first chapter I read, which StereoNinja was kind enough to sift through a half hour of footage and edit together about five minutes of me yelling into an empty room. I hope you enjoy it:

Happy Rememberance Day, Veterans!

It's Veteran's Day everyone! Go hug someone who served.

Last year I posted a great story told by my friend Erin from her days in the army. Some of you have read it before, but I have a lot of new readers since then, so I don't feel guilty about posting it again. So, in honor of service people everywhere, I give you The Bird Story.

The Bird Story I joined the Army on September 10, 2001 because I have magnificent timing. "What could go wrong?" Yep. Anyway, I became an Engineer in the Army and ended up getting stationed in Germany. Incidentally, I was the only female engineer in my company for nine months straight. Please remind me in the future to tell you about the initial hilarity/eventual nightmare that this entailed.

Anyway.

I got to Germany right about the time when George W. was busy pissing off all of Europe with his stupid WMD bullshit about Iraq-- he *especially* had pissed off the French and the German people. Fantastic. We were not very welcome in Germany. I remember being on Guard Duty (standing at the entrance of the base, fully armed and prepared to blow away anybody who posed a threat) and an elderly German man rode past on his bicycle, giving me the finger and yelling, "Go back to your own country!" I completely agreed with him. Anyway, bad things started to happen-- people yelling at us on the street, bar fights and eventually a stabbing at the local pub. We were put on Base Restriction for our own protection.

There were exactly four things to do on base: go to the movies, rent movies, bowl and get drunk. Usually, the first three activities involved the fourth.

One night, after going bowling (while drinking), coming back to the barracks and watching a movie with some friends (while drinking) and then finally settling in alone in my room (while drinking), I decided that I was not quite drunk enough. Mind you, in the course of four hours, I had consumed three giant German beers and one... it's not a pint, and it's not a fifth-- it's the one in between-- let's call it a fish bowl-- so, I had consumed three giant German beers and one fishbowl of tequila. But I wasn't drunk enough, so I went to the base liquor store and bought another fish bowl of tequila, went back to my room and popped in another movie. I got about halfway through my second fish bowl and... I started to not feel so good.

Are you familiar with the stage of inebriation when you know you're going to be sick but you *really* think that you can prevent it from happening? This stage usually involves food.

It was around one in the morning at this point and everything on base was closed. The only food I had in my room: bread and peanut butter. Score. Peanut butter sandwiches. I made myself a stack of peanut butter sandwiches, maybe 5 or 6 of them, and started happily munching away at them. Halfway into the second sandwich, I realized that I did indeed feel better...but I was so thirsty from the peanut butter. I didn't feel like going *all the way* down the hall to get some water, and after all, I had that half-bottle of tequila sitting right there next to me, and I *was* feeling better, soooo... I washed all 5 or 6 sandwiches down with the rest of that bottle of tequila.

Strangely enough, shortly after, I started to feel not so good again. And again, I thought I could fix the problem. "I'm just hot. I should take my clothes off." So I did, and that helped a little, but I was still not feeling so good. "The window," I thought, "I need to open the window." And I did. These were old Nazi barracks (I'm not kidding, seriously, they used to be Nazi barracks), and they had the giant windows that went all the way to the ceiling. So, three in the morning, wintertime in Germany, I am naked, relishing the cold winter air on my naked body. After a minute, I felt okay and I left the window open and slipped into bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, the room started spinning out of control and I shot right back up, stumbled over to the open window and proceeded to vomit for what seemed like an eternity. Remember, I'm 5'7" and weigh all of 120 pounds and I've consumed three giant beers, two fish bowls of tequila and 5 or 6 peanut butter sandwiches, all of which were brewing in my stomach the whole night. Drunk as I was, I can still remember thinking-- as I was puking-- "Jesus, this is taking FOREVER." At some point, I stopped and made it back to bed.

I woke up the next morning cold and confused. "It's freezing in here! Why is the window open? Why am I naked? What did I DO last night?" It all came back to me when I went to close the window and saw that I had not *quite* cleared the ledge all the way while I was puking my guts out the night before, as there was a huge, frozen mound of tequila/peanut butter sandwich vomit right outside my window. Fuck. Me.

One of the many things that blow about the military is something called Base Inspection, and this usually involves the Commander of the base strolling around and seeing what's fucked up. It can happen at any time. Knowing this, I went outside to see what the damage looked like from the ground. This is when I discovered the 15-foot long puke-cicle stretching from my window to the ground along the side of the building, with another little frozen mound of puke at the bottom. "I'm too hung-over for this. I'll deal with this tomorrow and hope for the best."

There was no inspection that day, thank goodness.

The next morning, I woke up unpleasantly early to sound of 10,000 birds chirping right outside my window. "What the fuck!" I opened my curtains to find that the puke mound was gone, and all sorts of birds were hanging out on my ledge, pecking away at what was left of it. "That's disgusting." I immediately went outside to see what was still left on the side of the building, and holy shit, it was ALL gone. All of it, the mound on my ledge, the puke-cicle, the mound on the ground, all of it. "Oh my god, thank goodness, I really didn't want to clean that up. But that's fucking disgusting." Relieved, I went back inside and didn't think much of it again.

Yes, at least not for a day or two when I started seeing dead birds around base. And not just one or two, but a whole mess of them. The first dead bird: "Aww, a dead bird." The second: "Huh, that's weird, I just saw a dead bird." The third: "What's with all the dead birds?" The fourth, fifth and so on and so on... "Wait a minute. Oh, fuck." I finally realized that all the dead birds on base were right next to buildings. I looked up at some point and that's when I discovered what clearly appeared to be a bird splat mark on one of the building windows. The birds, who were completely shitfaced on my tequila vomit, were drunkenly flying into windows and accidentally killing themselves.

I never harmed a single human being when I served. But I think I killed a shit-ton of birds.

In conclusion, birds are gross.

I'm Going To Get In Serious Trouble For This One

Feel free to just skip this one - it's late and I'm rambling, and I've just finished chapters 2-4 of a book that should have been called Fifty Times More Tedious (Than My Other Two Piece of Shit Books) in the hope that I could cover their entire honeymoon in one blog post, apparently having forgotten that James narrates every single second of every single day and that the entirety of the book probably only covers the last three days of the honeymoon. I've talked someone else into editing the video for me, but he's quite busy so it will be ready when it's ready and then you can all see me yelling and gesturing at no one. Also, apparently I rest my hand on my chest while I'm reading a lot. It looks like I'm reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. My point is I'm kind of crabby right now, and the rest of this post is kind of crabby as well and likely to make some relatives very, very angry, and I'm just too tired to care.

Today would have been my mother's 64th birthday. I'm feeling guilty about it because I had forgotten until evening, and when I remembered I felt nothing.

I spent a long time getting upset on days like today, but I seem to have stopped around five or six years ago. I also seem to be the only one. My brother did a charity bike race this year in her honor, and the rest of my family had some sort of dinner thing, both to commemorate the 20th anniversary of her death. I went to see H-Town in an improv festival instead. The whole thing seemed sort of morbid and arbitrary to me. I'm not sure why people enjoy round numbers so much, or why 20 years should be more important somehow than 19 years or 21.

Six years ago marked the point where I'd spent as much time on the earth after her death as I had before it. I think that's when I realized how much of my life had been defined by losing my mother at 14. That's a pretty shitty experience to make the focal point of your entire life and I got really, really irritated about it, which is why I stopped doing the family stuff surrounding it and stopped reading the inevitable emails I get from family members on the "important" days. I get that a lot of people find rituals important and cleansing and that's great for them, but I'm not one of them. And I'm done now pretending to be someone I'm not. For me, the time to remember my mother has nothing to do with when her birthday is or when she died. I think of my mother at Christmas. Christmas was her favorite holiday just like mine, which is probably because she made it something magical when I was a kid and I never managed to outgrow it (or because I am fascinated by shiny things). And it holds much better memories than her birthday (I don't remember a single one of them) or her death day (fucking TERRIBLE).

I don't really know where I was going with this - like I said, I'm really tired. But it's the best I can do by way of apologizing to my family for not getting wrapped up in The Great Mourning twice a year the way I suppose it makes sense that I'm expected to. It's just not for me. You guys can do what you like, but imma stick with the days that had smiles.

Deja Puke

I stayed up very late reading last night and only got one chapter done, but it was enough to make all the rage come rushing back, and I had to call StereoNinja who patiently listened to me scream about how E.L. James has obviously never seen a map. I also shot a video of me reading it, which I plan to edit on Saturday as well as read a couple more chapters, but I am telling you right now - the spoiler of knowing she's going to get pregnant in this book is making me read everything through a whole new filter and the idea that these two fuckwits are going to breed makes me want to cry.

I need a nap. Or a drink.

And So It Begins.

Tonight is the night I start reading Fifty Shades Freed. I haven't even opened it yet and it's already annoying in that its title doesn't lend itself nearly as well to clever wordplay as her first two titles. H-Town has had more than enough, and to date I have found precisely NO ONE willing to help me get through this project which in no way surprises me. So it appears I'll be mostly going back to the original format of me writing reviews that are nearly as long as the stupid book but with much better swearing. I was going to read it at the bar tonight, but in the interest of feeling less alone in this endeavor, I think I am going to wait until I get home and then record myself reading it. Not out loud, just to myself, so that you guys can all watch the rage overtake me and see the kind of tortured monster faces this book forces me to make.

Someone posted in the comments to the last review that they'd heard James is planning both a fourth novel to the series and another series that is the same exact bullshit but from Christian's point of view. As painfully fucking bad as this sounds, if she does do that, I would be interested in how she's going to write in Christian's voice in a way that makes him seem at all like a sympathetic character and not a jealous unstable control freak who can't recognize flaws in any of his behaviors that actually are terrible, but believes an interest in kink is the part that makes him a monster. I'd also like Christian to explain to me how in THE FUCK he finds anything interesting or clever or intelligent about Ana's personality, or why he'd want her for anything other than cum dumpster. My prediction is she won't be able to effectively do either of those things, and that as much as I feel the trilogy we have now are the worst books ever written, the Christian books will be a whole new world of pain. Let's just hope that her work ethic is as fucking terrible as her writing and she never gets around to it.

Maryland, My Maryland

I have not stopped crying all day today.

The Fifty Shades readers are probably familiar with my best friend H-Town, but in case anyone is not, let me tell you about her. H-Town and I have known each other more than 16 years since we started college together at Ohio University. We were pretty much instant friends because we are both ridiculous, and also because once you've met her it is almost impossible to not be friends with her. She is intelligent, hysterically funny, loving, loyal, creative, talented, spontaneous, thoughtful - really everything you could possibly ever want in a friend. These days, H-Town is a journalist living in Maryland. She works for a company that does work she truly believes in, and when she's not doing that, she's usually volunteering or doing stuff with the church she recently helped found, or on stage doing improv and killing audiences with her incredible gift for both general humor and physical comedy. She is a devoted wife and a brilliant mother to her two year old daughter. She is also a lesbian.

When H-Town and her (also amazing) wife A-Town got married ten years ago, the government was not in the business of high-fiving gay people on their life choices (a line I've stolen from another awesome lesbian I know). They only got to do it legally a few years ago when it became possible in DC. They did it just before their daughter was born and got to have both their names on her birth certificate. Today they could do it in the state where they live.

It's a subject that is hard for me to discuss with people. It's important to be a good advocate for what is right, but every time someone tries to explain to me why my best friend and one of the best people I've ever known should be treated as a second class citizen in this country using "facts", the first thing that pops into my head to say is "Are you high? What the fuck is wrong with you?" which is neither helpful nor a cogent argument. But I really and truly can't wrap my head around the idea that this is a political issue or even that it should be open for discussion. To me it's very simple: does Citizen A have exactly the same rights and protections under the law as Citizen B? No? THEN FIX IT BECAUSE THAT IS BULLSHIT. Either that or go back and cross out that part where it says "All men are created equal" because clearly you don't actually mean it and it's not particularly funny when it's being used as a punchline.

Don't get me wrong, I advocate when I can. But I feel like I start way too many sentences "Well, my best friend is a lesbian" and it would be great if I didn't need to step in and try to change people's minds every time I mention her to strangers and I got to say "My best friend is a journalist" or "My best friend is a mom" just as often because I don't have to keep explaining to people what "civil rights" means. We're getting there.

Yesterday, the people of Maryland got it right.
The people of Maine got it right.
The people of Washington State got it right.

I have never been happier or more proud. Look how happy they have made my best friend:

Please Don't Hit Me.

I am ready for Christmas now.

And yes, I know that Halloween was less than a week ago, and that all of my American readers are telling me to get off it because it isn't even Thanksgiving yet, but it's my blog and I LIKE GLITTER and I'm ready for Christmas so shut up.

There's lots of reasons why I am entirely prepared for Christmas fully nine days before the 40 Days of Christmas even starts. For one thing, the bartender was foolish enough a few weeks ago to mention that when he was a kid they always had a white Christmas tree with all red ornaments on it and that's his favorite. Since I (currently) have eight Christmas trees, but none of them are white OR decorated all in red, this is CLEARLY a veiled request for me to BUY ANOTHER TREE. I would be a terrible, terrible roommate to let his Christmas memories die by filling the apartment with trees that are all the wrong kind.

I have also been online looking at the new houses they have this year for my Christmas village. It's almost like they knew I wasn't a fan of any of the houses that came out last year, because new this year there is a dance studio AND a music store AND a library AND an accessory set of some kids playing hockey! (I miss you, Blackhawks.) ARE THEY READING MY MIND? And the timing is perfect, because I just bought a new upright freezer (since there's never room in the normal freezer because the bartender is CONSTANTLY making soup) and it didn't fit under the table in my kitchen as I had expected it to, so now it's in my room next to my two dressers (one of which I may or may not have bought specifically to have room for more houses in my Christmas village), so obviously I should buy all three of those houses so the freezer doesn't feel left out.

Also, now that I have a freezer, it means I can make SO MANY MORE Christmas cookies than I have in recent years, which is also perfect timing because last year after Christmas my dad gave me his old cookie press since he doesn't make those particular cookies anymore, so now I can make as many delicious little bows and wreaths and trees as I want. So even if you think all my other brilliant reasons are complete bullshit (which they're NOT), you have to concede that it is not unreasonable for me to be yammering on about Christmas this early because COOKIES YOU GUYS.

Cara Reads Fifty Shades Of Grey

I was going through my stats this morning looking at who is linking to me like the screaming narcissist I am, and one of the links I came across had another link to a girl called Cara and some Youtube videos of her reading Fifty Shades of Grey. She's only read the first four chapters so far, but I was absolutely in tears from laughing so hard. When I showed StereoNinja earlier, he asked if she'd read my blog since many of her observations were so similar to mine. I don't know if she has, but she appears to be smart and know how to read, so it seems logical that she would reach some of the same conclusions about just how fucking bad this book actually is as I did when I read it because if you are smart and literate, it's pretty hard to miss.

Anyway, go watch her videos and laugh. I will start reading the third book on Thursday night and plan to have reviews up by the weekend.

50 Fucks Thiser

H-Town and amberance read Fifty Shades Darker so you don't have to.

me: ok let's finish this like mortal kombat - by ripping out it's spine and leaving it to die

H-Town: FINISH HIM
you ready?

me: to be done reading this?
i was born ready

Chapter 20 starts with a bizarre mixture of overly effusive surprise that Ana has said she'll marry him with a bone dry, technical description of the exact model of helicopter Christian flies. As per her custom, this conversation as written by E.L. James makes absolutely no sense and is nothing but a poorly designed vehicle to allow her to foreshadow again that the helicopter was sabotaged. EUROCOPTER EC135S ARE PERFECT HELICOPTERS YOU GUYS. THEY NEVER EVER CRASH. EVER. And then to celebrate their engagement, they take a cold shower with all their clothes on.

me: yay we're getting married, let's take a shower in our clothes
take your pants off i want to wash your boner!

H-Town: Ana Steele's Amazing Boner Wash!
Strong Enough for a Man! But Made for a Woman!

me: the one thing i wrote down from this scene was when she said she "detonated" (actually I also wrote down, "How does the sex keep getting worse?" but the specific line there was "I will spend the rest of my life loving this man, and with that awe-inspiring thought, I detonate around him - a healing, cathartic orgasm, crying out his name as tears flow down my cheeks.")

H-Town: I think I missed that because once again, I was skimming the shit outta this section

me: i wish it were true. i wish she had detonated

H-Town: I would watch that fireworks show with glee

me: so then they wake up the next day and now everything between Jose and Christian is fine because of fishing (Christian and Jose have an amiable conversation about their shared love of fishing, which isn't detailed because Ana says "I zone out. This I do not need to know." In my notes I translated this to "All your interests bore me." This marriage is off to a great start.)

H-Town: fishing is the great equalizer
and Christian walks out in just his special hip pants and no shirt
I had hoped he and Jose would then start making out

me: yes
he should fire his tailor, NONE of his pants fit properly

H-Town: and Ana would say something like, "Men can...kiss?"
because she is dumb

me: "but christian, you don't have a tan!"

H-Town: "You don't have an accent!"
HOW CAN YOU BE GAY?

me: oh, there's something in this chapter about how she's jealous when she finds out charlie tango is a woman
all fucking boats, planes, helicopters etc. are women
and that's basically the whole chapter
the next chapter was birthday sex

(Chapter 20 ends with Christian opening his birthday presents from Ana, including a box containing a bunch of things he already owns that she'd just gone around the apartment collecting and put in a box - the key to the playroom, some nipple clamps, a butt plug, the stupid fucking tie, etc. They take all of these things into the playroom to start Chapter 21 and then end up using almost none of them since she has massively overestimated her own capabilities.)

H-Town: and this line "Can one lust after one's husband like this?"
No, Ana, that's not possible
Marriage ends all feelings.

me: I KNOW
I wrote ONE WOULD FUCKING HOPE SO

H-Town:  also best part
OMG IT'S VIBRATING...DOWN THERE!! (It's a little metal bullet vibrator. It's what they fucking do.)

me: oh god

H-Town: and then Christian magically waves his hand/wang and special slow music turns on when they lay down on the bed

me: and she's all where is he going to put that.
HOLY SHIT I DIDN'T KNOW YOU COULD PUT FINGERS IN YOUR BUTT
at some point in all the action i wrote "Can you stab sex? i want to stab it so hard"

H-Town: hahaha
BUTT IS EXIT ONLY

me: she makes like this is the dirtiest sex that has ever happened afterwards

H-Town: Anything besides missionary is friggin porn to her

me: i call that "tuesday"
this line: "And I'm aware we don't know each other well, and we have a mountain of issues to overcome..." DO
NOT
GET
 MARRIED

H-Town: hahaha I know
are we to the part where she reveals she saw his photos?
and he admits he's not good at safe combinations? (While Ana was crawling around the house looking for sex toys she has no fucking idea how to use, she came across a pile of naked photos of Christian's former subs tied up in the playroom. She is as usual spectacularly jealous, but when she finally reveals her discovery to Christian, it turns out it isn't what she thinks. But because it's E.L. James writing, what Ana finds comforting is actually so much worse. The naked photos weren't just lying around, they HAD been locked in a safe, but Christian is an absolute goddamn moron and wrote the combination for the safe down pretty much RIGHT FUCKING NEXT TO IT. Naturally, Leila had gotten into it and put the photos where she knew Ana would find them. Sadly, this isn't the "worse" part.)

H-Town: Captain Computer Security can't handle locking a goddamn safe?

me: yeah, that was the dumbest
i can't remember my safe combination.
i had to write it down
well what's the point of having one then?
why not just leave it wide open?

H-Town: with some lighted arrows pointing at it?

me: isn't he some kind of trazillionaire?
is there some reason he doesn't have a safe with fingerprint access?

H-Town: more likely it'd be one that would require him to stick his wang in for ID
Robot voice: "Please fuck me to open safe."

me: "Insert boner in identification vag" (THIS is the worse part ---->)
his blackmail photos make no sense by the way
he's afraid his subs are going to tell people he likes beatings with his sex
and to stop them from saying that he...takes pictures of exactly that?

H-Town: did not think that one through

me: for an enterprise that revolves completely around trust, this is pretty much the opposite of that
BDSM fail (Again, and I can't stress this enough - blackmailing people in this situation is not only ALL KINDS OF WRONG, but if you have a reputation for that kind of behavior NO ONE WILL PLAY WITH YOU. RESEARCH, JAMES. FUCK.)
oh fuck this line too, when Taylor calls her ma'am again
"It makes me feel old, at least thirty."
EAT A PILE OF 80 YEAR OLD DICKS

H-Town: hahahahahaha
I'm 34 and gay, so that means I must resemble dust and have a great tan

me: i'm going cane shopping after work, I'm so old oh my god
thirty is also exactly 2 years older than her boyfriend is right now

H-Town: you're nowhere near as successful, Amber.
Better kill yourself now.
I mean, if old age doesn't kill you first

me: shit right, no doubt. i could just drop dead any second at my age

Later on, Ana calls her mother to tell her the big news and is super irritated when her mother 1) asks if Ana's getting married at age 21 to a man she's known less than two months because she's pregnant and 2) has the nerve to mention Ana's dead biological father when discussing one of the major events in a person's life that a normal human being would want to have their parents present for.

Me: when she called her mom i wanted to stab everything
she's all pissed that her mom asks if she's pregnant
um, you are 21 and you have known this person for a month and a half. that is an entirely reasonable question

H-Town: no shit
"oh my god, did you die crossing the street? You're so dumb, Ana."
"Mom, I can't get this bottle of OJ to work. It says to shake well before opening, but I shake myself and the bottle doesn't open?" HELP ME

me: and then her mom is crying because she wishes ana's real dad had lived
also perfectly reasonable, my dad did the same thing when i got engaged
and ana's all "oh great now i have to hear all about my mythical father again"
he's not "mythical", he's dead

H-Town: Maybe her dad was a unicorn, Amber
YOU DON'T KNOW.

me: oh my god or zeus. MAYBE HE WAS ZEUS

Heather: Zeus' kid could never be this stupid
also, we all know anyone related to a god in this story has to be Christian.
OBVIOUSLY.

me: oh right, my bad

H-Town: The God of Hip Pants
brother to the God of Body Wash

me: his bio dad probably was Zeus. Zeus liked to fuck around, right?

H-Town: and daughter to the God of Shut the Fuck Up

me: and all this "there will never be anyone else for me"
I wrote down YOU ARE 21 YEARS OLD three separate times
hey you know what they haven't done in a while? had a fight

H-Town: FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!

me: if you insist

After speaking to her mother, Ana decides to go down to the store to get the materials needed to bake Christian a birthday cake. She is wearing a blue sundress - a blue sundress that had been purchased for her by Christian's own personal shopper, which seems like it would imply that it met with his approval, but nothing Ana has ever worn or done or said or eaten or breathed on meets with Christian's approval, ever, therefore, it is once again time to have a fight.

me: "hey i'm going to the store"
"NOT IN THAT WHORE DRESS YOU'RE NOT"
you mean the one you bought her?

H-Town: ONLY FOR INSIDE TIME

me: or the beach
IT'S ALL ABOUT CONTEXT WHETHER YOUR DRESS IS SLUTTY OR NOT (Christian concedes he would not be upset with her going out in public in her prostitute's uniform if only she were standing on a beach and not in line at a grocery store. Come the fuck on James, you're not even PRETENDING to try anymore.) 
i feel bad now. let's bone and make up

H-Town: make me a cake and put it on my peener
I SAID CHOCOLATE CAKE, BITCH
FIGHT
sex

me: I WANT TO EAT IT WITH A BIGGER FORK
FIGHT
sex
YOU SNEEZED WHILE I WAS ON THE PHONE
FIGHT
sex

 H-Town: YOU LOOKED AT THE PHOTOS OF YOU!
FIGHT
sex

me: but enough about ana and christian fighting each other. how about instead they go to his birthday party and get in fights with everyone?

H-Town: oh my god, Jerry Springer
fight
CONTRACT!
fight ELENA MEOW!
fight

Picture, if you will, the most uncomfortable party you have ever been to in your life. Now multiply the discomfort level you felt at that party by the total number of atoms that make up the universe to the power of infinity. I once attended a birthday party where the brother of the girl having a birthday broke up with his wife during the party after an alleged friend announced to everyone, including all parties concerned AND all of their parents, that said wife had been fucking her husband's cousin for a year and half. Incidentally, the cousin was himself engaged to the cheating wife's lifelong best friend, who was supposed to be the matron of honor at their wedding. True story. I would attend that same party every day for the rest of my life if the alternative was having to witness the complete fucking shitshow that went down at Christian's birthday party.

Before they'd even managed to get through the door, they were met by an enraged Kate, waving around the email discussing the contract that had never actually been signed and demanding answers from Ana about how she could allow this to happen and from Christian about why he was such a sick, disgusting, rapey fuck. Not long afterward, Christian announces to all the guests that he and Ana are engaged. Naturally, this causes a very drunk Elena to pull Ana aside (I'm not sure why, since she was shouting for all to hear anyway) and tell her that she could NEVER make Christian happy EVER because she is TOO FUCKING VANILLA. Ana responds with poise and maturity by throwing her cocktail in Elena's face. Christian comes to her aid and himself has a shouting match with Elena that is loud enough to draw his mother into the fray, where she finds out to her complete and utter despair that her best friend used to fuck her son and that it was super filthy. In between all this fighting, we are given a series of scenes including but not limited to: a (gasp!) lesbian couple, the world's most socially inept therapist, and some thinly veiled racism. THE ARISTOCRATS!

me: The whole Kate part I was yelling out loud at the book
THIS IS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS

H-Town: I hate how EL James tries to insert drama
it only ever lasts for maybe a page or two
COPTER CRASH!
two pages later BFF CONTRACT FIGHT!
one page then everything gets resolved
she tries to work every possible drama-rama into one book, so she just makes them last two pages
and MEEEEEOW, the Elena fight

me: yeah, the elena fight
mother of god
YOU WILL NEVER MAKE HIM HAPPY
i mean, she's sort of right, they are clearly not happy together for longer than five minutes at a stretch

H-Town: Until they have sex, that is
but then yeah, let's fight about mac n cheese and dresses
oh man, before the elena fight, when they're surveying the big party of guests
and Ana points out a black guy
it's almost like a "HEY LOOK Y'ALL, IT'S A BLACK GUY! IN OREGON! WOW!"
sigh
and then HA HA Ros is a lesbian

me: she must have been out of her mind at that party, a black guy AND lesbians?

H-Town: a lesbian that wears heels on a helicopter and then still wears them once it crashes?
Not likely

me: THANK YOU THAT'S WHAT I SAID
*confirmed by actual lesbian*

H-Town: anyway
ELENA SMASH
and then a drink gets thrown
I wish it would've been a fistfight and then the whole party comes in, someone accidentally dumps jello or mud, and then it's a wrestling match
*how this lesbian writes* 
*while not wearing heels*

me: and then they'd be all dirty after so WET TSHIRT CONTEST
this party would have been so much more awesome if we were in charge of it
oh there was also that conversation with Dr. Flynn and his wife

H-Town: his younger wife
oh mah god

me: his wife says "life would be dull and penurious without you"
and then he makes a cricket reference that nobody gets because teehee oh he's so British
i can't relate to you Americans and your fancy baseball sports

H-Town: crikey bowlers sticky wickets chimney sweep carry on carry on car park crisps

me: No one talks like that

H-Town: That's how the English talk, I know.
Come on, Amber, we know everyone in England sounds like Eliza Doolittle in "My Fair Lady" before she gets trained
aaaaeeeeeiiiiooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
then the fight, Christian's mom comes in, and I wish she would've piled-drive someone

me: yeah the mom, wow  

H-Town: so, christian and his mom talk it out and Ana runs away to his room and then the worst ending ever

me: oh that epilogue was atrocious

The book ends with Ana's former boss/attempted rapist hiding in the bushes outside Christian's parents' house. He is upset that his sabotaging of the helicopter failed to kill Christian, which is a totally reasoned and proportionate response to getting fired for your own blatant misconduct. For some reason, James feels the need to point out that he grew up poor in Detroit, as if this somehow explains why a mid level publishing executive at a small unknown company would become a savage murderer over losing his job.

H-Town: OH BOY, I WONDER WHO IT IS SITTING OUTSIDE THE HOUSE PLOTTING?

me: you mean the helicopter WAS sabotaged?
HUGE PLOT TWIST!

H-Town: I hope in the next book there's a baby Grey and it emerges from Ana like an Alien, punches Christian in the dick, and then runs over Jack L Hyde in an Audi, all while carrying a helicopter with Elena and the crazy ex in it.

me: that would be epic

H-Town: Did you see one of your commenters mention an upcoming baby?

me: yes, that apparently digs "the sexing"
WTF

H-Town: w t f
if that's true I don't even...

me: i just can't...
so, what is your final recommendation to people considering reading this book?

H-Town: Are you fucking stupid?
that's my initial reaction
and then a more measured, "Do you want to have a reason to gouge out your eyes and almost give up on fiction forever?"
and then a crazier, "I could just shit in this box right here and it'd be better written and edited than this book."

me: i CAN'T BELIEVE I have to read ANOTHER volume of this fucktarded abortion of a book

H-Town: reminds me of this quote from Tommy Boy:
"If you want me to take a dump in a box and mark it guaranteed, I will. I got spare time."

me: i miss chris farley
i want him to play christian grey in the movie

H-Town: oh my god YES

me: it would be the greatest movie of all time

I have so many questions about the third book:

• Will Elena team up with Jack Hyde and try to kill everyone?
• Will Leila cut her wrists when she finds out that Christian is going to marry someone?
• Does this baby have the slightest fucking chance of turning out to be a stable, healthy, happy human being?
• Will both of my eyeballs still be intact and attached to my face when I'm done reading?

I've put it off as long as I could. Let's get this thing over with, shall we?