Please do not leave comments telling me to read Fifty Shades of Grey. I have. It was terrible. That is all. Thank you.
P.S. If you haven’t read Fifty Shades of Grey, please be advised that it’s not that dirty and they don’t do anal. Sorry about that.
This is it. This is finally it. The last chapter of Fifty Shades of Grey. Twenty-six is a strangely appropriate number, because this monster of a book often feels like a marathon; it hurts like hell, you think it will never end and it may very well make you throw up in public.
The chapter begins with Ana waking up, and I don’t even care because I don’t have to read any more of this crap once this chapter is over.
Posted in big steaming heaps of it, books, Fifty Shades of Abuse, Fifty Shades of Shit, reviews, wtf
Tagged crap, fifty shades annotated, fifty shades of abuse, fifty shades of grey, new depths of boredom, truly awful books
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
Here we are again, and it’s another horrible chapter, I’m afraid. If you are disturbed by graphic depictions of violence and sexual assault then you might want to skip this one. Continue reading
This recap is not going to be all fun and games. I’ll warn you now. These next couple of chapters are some of the most stomach-churning in the entire book, although not for any funny reasons to do with tampons or unpleasantries involving other people’s toothbrushes.
I’ve just finished with writing a chapter that reminded me why, on some level, I kind of love these terrible books. They might be gross, regressive, deeply stupid and devoid of any literary merit whatsoever, but I’ve had a great time tearing them to pieces. It’s not often you get to type lines like;
I start to cry as she marches me towards a police car. “I should never have listened to those gay mice from Narnia!”
…and have them actually mean something in context. Hanna Squeal and her poorly written penthouse apartment have given me so many dumb laughs that it kind of makes up for having to read E.L. James’ whole lousy trilogy. Sometimes the subtext – and often the actual text, let’s face it – of the Fifty Shades of Grey novels is so disturbing and infuriating that I can’t find anything funny to say about it, which is partly why I decided to write Fifty Shades of Neigh in the first place. I always felt that laughing at crap was one of the best ways to deal with it.
Sadly we’re rapidly running out of funny in Fifty Shades of Grey – from hereon in the book just keeps getting more and fucked-up.
We last left our mutton-headed heroine staring at a computer screen full of BSDM porn and wondering why she was feeling all twitchy in the bathing-suit area. Continue reading