Chapter twenty-five starts with Ana’s mom burping out yet another string of self-help platitudes as she bids goodbye to her hellspawned daughter.
“Follow your heart, darling, and please, please – try not to overthink things. Relax and enjoy yourself. You are so young, sweetheart. You have so much of life to experience yet, just let it happen. You deserve the best of everything.” Her heartfelt words are comforting whispered in my ear.
Just in case that Hallmark pink moment above wasn’t Disney enough for you, ditz-princess Renee Carla reminds Ana that ‘you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.’ Then she promises to visit, although she probably won’t, since she couldn’t be bothered to stir herself to come to Ana’s graduation. Ana wanders aboard her flight thinking on the subject of ‘unconditional love’, and promptly pulls out her BlackBerry in order to ‘stare at it despondently’.
I know it looks like nothing is happening at this point in the book, but trust me – it’s all about to hinge on this moment. Ana is about to have one of her moments of slack-jawed revelation and we’re all about to die a little more inside. Continue reading
Chapter twenty-three opens with Ana sitting in a bar in Georgia and realising that her demented boyfriend has stalked her all the way from Seattle. Continue reading
Posted in big steaming heaps of it, books, Fifty Shades of Shit, wtf
Tagged crap, drunks, fifty shades annotated, fifty shades of grey, jiggly bits, sordid gropings, there is no anal sex in fifty shades of grey, truly awful books
In case you didn’t notice, I have a new book to plug, so consider Fifty Shades Later well and truly plugged. It’s a chunky little number, half novel, half sweary literary criticism, and uses the words ‘sasquatch’ and ‘gangbang’ quite often and almost always in the same sentence. Stuff that in your search engines, you weirdos.
Anyway – on to the crap. Continue reading
Brace yourself for the final excursion into the dysfunctional life of Hanna Neigh (née Squeal) and her brooding, bondage-freak husband, Mr. Neigh.
It’s not easy being the skinny, rich and beautiful wife of a billionaire, especially when you’re in the South of France and the hotel where you wanted to stay has been besmirched by the presence of the trashy romance writer responsible for the infamous ‘Sasquatch Gangbang’ novels. To add further complications to her meaningless existence, Hanna can’t find a decent martini on the entire Cote d’Azur and someone keeps sending her threatening e-mails. Worse, her Inner Goddess keeps reminding her about the part of Book Two where her husband died in a helicopter crash, although that’s kind of her own fault for anthropomorphising aspects of her creaking mental processes in such an incredibly annoying way.
Who is driving the mysterious black van labelled INEPT KIDNAPPERS INC? What really happened to felonious Brony-billionaire Crispian Neigh on the night of the Kleptocrats Only Masqued Ball? Have the ponies stopped screaming yet? And is this the one where they finally do anal? (No)
Confused? You will be.
Incompetent editors, angry birds, sweary children, transvestite workaholics, myopic libertarians and horrible things that happen to My Little Pony all collide in the final part of the anarchic Fifty Shades of Neigh trilogy.
You get a two-fer of crap today, since chapter eighteen is mostly one horrible, drawn out sex scene and I have absolutely no intention of recapping it. Continue reading
I’m so close to being done with Fifty Shades Later that I thought it might be an enjoyable little retrospective to watch that Bronies documentary on Netflix. After all, I’ve spent close on a year finding out more about bronies than I ever needed or wanted to know – it felt like an interesting way to say goodbye.
We lasted about forty-five minutes. Holy Christ, this thing is dull. It’s like an endless, one-note puff piece in which a collection of tiresome young men and boys talk about how much they like ponies. And that they’re not gay. But they like ponies. And they’re persecuted for liking ponies. And not gay. Even though they like a cartoon for little girls.
Writing the Fifty Shades of Neigh series has been a weird experience in a lot of ways. The strangest one is that – in attempting to create a faithful parody of Fifty Shades of Grey – I’ve had to try and stifle my own instincts as a writer. For example, the characters in the original are so static they may as well be cryogenically frozen. They rarely grow or change in any significant way throughout the books. In writing the parody I wanted to carry that across, but it felt totally self-defeating, like trying to swim against a current. It was like I had all these panicked little instinctive voices in my head, all of them freaking out because I was going against something that everyone from Stephen King down had told me was a fundamental truth of good fiction – characters need to change and develop.
Eventually I gave up. I couldn’t keep it up. I listened to my gut – change was too vital a thing to toss aside. Even if – in Hanna’s case – she just got a mani-pedi and a new weave, there was still a joke in there in that she thought a pedicure constituted growing as a person. The one character who’s remained totally static is Crispian Neigh, which goes right to the heart of why I hate him and hate writing him. He’s boring. He’s a one-note joke. He’s a grown man who likes My Little Pony and isn’t that whacky and weird?
It’s the reason why I spent most of the Fifty Shades of Neigh series trying to avoid writing about Crispian – if the books were just one long brony joke they’d almost be as boring as the originals. Almost. You could practise for a lifetime at boring the tits off people and still not approach the depths of boredom we’re about to plumb in chapter eleven of Fifty Shades of Grey.
Yes, it’s time to read the Sex Contract. Clause by clause, paragraph by paragraph, epoch by geological epoch. Soul-crushing boredom is the new Sexy. Continue reading
Posted in big steaming heaps of it, Fifty Shades of Neigh, Fifty Shades of Shit, Things you need to buy right now, writing, wtf
Tagged bronies, bullshit, Christian Thundercat Grey, crap, drunks, fifty shades annotated, fifty shades of abuse, i don't want to be nice, it's awful i hate it, new depths of boredom, sordid gropings
Last time on Fifty Shades of Grey, after seven stultifying chapters of teabags, cable ties, amateur neurosurgery and some of the worst commentary on Tess of the D’Urbervilles since Marie Corelli kicked it, Ana and Christian finally had sex.
It was actually rather dull. Continue reading
Posted in big steaming heaps of it, books, Fifty Shades of Neigh, Fifty Shades of Shit, Things you need to buy right now, wtf
Tagged crap, drunks, fifty shades annotated, fifty shades of abuse, i don't want to be nice, it's awful i hate it, jiggly bits, new depths of boredom, sordid gropings