50 shades of BLEAH.

Hi Stephen,

What the hell is the deal with this book "Fifty Shades of Grey?" I mean, I have so far slogged my way through the most hellaciously BAD writing of this author, to chapter seven, and we are just NOW getting a first look at the inside of his dungeon.  REALLY??  SEVEN CHAPTERS it took, to get to this point??  Good Lord.

On page 53, this woman wrote, "I magic a smile on my face."  I cringed and moaned audibly when I read that.  I MAGIC A SMILE?!  WHAT THE HELL?!  This woman is getting paid MILLIONS of dollars a WEEK, for THIS?!  Magic a smile, indeed.  It killed the English major inside of me, just shredded my whole college degree with that one stupid sentence.

Everybody's all "ooooh, ahhhh, this book is so NAUGHTY," and I'm like, YAWN, this took me SEVEN CHAPTERS to get to even SEEING his dungeon?  And she describes it as going back through time to the Spanish Inquisition?  Wow.  Just wow.  I just shake my head in disbelief at the audacity this woman has, thinking that we're going to just devour and swoon over this horrible writing to get to the sexy stuff....which, I still haven't seen ANY of yet.  YAWN.

There is NOTHING, I repeat, NOTHING even REMOTELY SEXY going on so far, and I'm at chapter SEVEN.  I am just plain bored to death with this book so far.

And oooooh, ahhhh, it's BDSM....!! OH MY GAWD, it's so NAUGHTY....great googa mooga.  I haven't seen a DAMNED THING yet that has any kind of BDSM to it.  They had a passionate kiss in an elevator---and oh BOY, he held her wrists above her head, woooooooooo...gimme a friggin' break.  Lemmetellya somethin' fellas, I could write so many awesome things, wayyyy better than this book. And based on MY EXPERIENCE, in REAL LIFE, not just made up BS in some vanilla chick's head.

I guess if you've never experienced real BDSM stuff in your entire life, and know little to nothing about it, maybe it's a book you can't put down and you're all hormonally enraged at the idea of it.  I don't know.  I guess, sadly, that whole "new" experience is long gone in my life, and I just don't get it because it's something I went through in my 30's.

Maybe I'm just weird, that pretty much sums up most of my life on this planet, sure, I'll admit that.  But come ON fellas, SURELY you've read better PORN on the internet, in a Hustler magazine, in a Penthouse, than THIS??  SURELY you've all had at least ONE passionate kiss in an elevator, with your arms held high above your head so you can't move?  Isn't this kinda lame stuff just a cliche??

Hey, I'm not the best writer in the universe, by any stretch of the imagination.  But I "magic a smile" just kills me to the point of wanting to kick this chick right to the curb and write my OWN book, that will blow this one to shreds.

Two minutes of your life, spent on looking at www.fuckmachines.com, will give you WAY more hormonal enragement than SEVEN CHAPTERS of this stupid book.  Seriously.  If you haven't bought it yet, SKIP IT.  I'll tell you even better stories than this vanilla chick could ever imagine, I promise.

Ah well, I guess it's written for the desperate housewife type, and that's just not me.  Sure, I may be a stay-at-home-wife-person (sort of), with a major lack of domesticity.....but I'm anything BUT desperate.  I can go give ANY MAN I WANT TO a blow job, and my HUSBAND is 100% FINE with that.  Eliminates the whole "desperate" thing, ya know?  He's even said to me before that if I ever see PETER again, my EX, I could do that for him too.  (However, I do know that he's gambling that I'll never see Peter again).  But, if I ever DO, he's gonna eat those words, trust me on that.

Well, anyway, just had to get out my 2 cents on the matter, for what it's worth.

Bye for now.

Love, Rebecca