How’s This For Fifty Shades

Sweet mother of all humanity, is everyone reading that book?

You know the one. Fifty Shades of Grey.

Apparently it’s about a dominant/submissive relationship between a 22-year-old virgin and some dude who wears a tie all the time. Or something. I don’t know. I haven’t read it, but I’ve had several excerpts sent to me. Thanks for that, by the way.

They’re calling it “mommy porn.” (Seriously. Google “mommy porn.” See?) But I gotta say, what I’ve seen so far isn’t doing it for me.

(To be clear, I don’t give a smack how anybody gets their jollies. Carry a cattle prod and wear a Batman mask for all I care. Whatever. But for lord’s sake, don’t make me read stuff like this:

“Confident, sexy, eyes blazing, and my heart begins to pound. My blood’s pumping around my body. Desire, thick and hot, pools in my belly. He stands in front of me, staring down into my eyes. He’s so freaking hot.”

OK, first off – that first thing is not a sentence. Second, the sensation of something thick pooling in my belly – that is exactly what I feel like right before I throw up. And third, if we’re going to say, “so freaking hot,” I feel like we need an “OMG” before it, don’t you?)

So anyway. I don’t think I’ll be buying the book. However, if anyone’s really looking for porn for moms, I’m on it. I’ve got 500 pages written as of this morning, and it’s H-O-T. Here are a few excerpts:

Chapter One: The Bedroom

He stands in the doorway, a godlike silhouette bathed in gleaming arrows of morning light. [Ed. note: It seems mixed metaphors are all the rage in porn, the mixier the better, used as often as possible. I totally have the hang of this.] The air is thick with the scent of the shaving cream he bought all by himself and used this morning, quietly, before wiping the sink clean of stubble and toothpaste blobs.

“I know how you like it,” he says.

“How do I like it?” she asks.

“With skim milk and an eighth of a teaspoon of raw sugar,” he answers, as he hands her the steaming mug of coffee.

She sits up against her pillow, fully rested, hair untangled, as always. “What time is it?” she asks.

“Oh, you know what time it is…” he says, eyes smoldering like oceans of coal.

He continues: “…time for you to turn on The Today Show, because I already got the kids up, fed, and out of the house for school. And now I’m going to straighten up downstairs before I leave for work.”

Chapter Six: The Meeting

As slide 42 of the PowerPoint presentation on the importance of proper school attire lights up the screen, he reaches a breaking point.

He stands to address the PTA president: “We get it! Knee socks are an important part of the uniform code. But it’s 10 p.m. – three hours is enough.”

Before he strides confidently out of the room like a proud snake, he turns back to point at a woman seated at the table: “And Jennifer, my wife knows damn well what the sugar policy is, so cool it with the ‘friendly reminder’ emails. She’d tell you herself, but she’s out having a margarita with her fun gay friends – by whom I am not the least bit intimidated – because I gave her the night off.”

Chapter Ten: The Trip

She’s almost to the door of the airplane lavatory when he taps her on the shoulder, his fingers drumming lightly on her skin like thunderous flames. He has followed her. She turns around.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says. “I know you like to pack your own things a certain way, which I find positively adorable. But since I packed everything for you in order to surprise you with this trip to Antigua, I wasn’t sure what you’d need. So I took the liberty of assembling this little bag of travel-size products by Bobbi Brown. Blue Raspberry is your favorite lipstick, right?”

Chapter Fourteen: The Vintage Cocktail Making Class

“You’re right,” he says. “This is a fun and enjoyable way to spend some couple time. I love your ideas.”

“I know you do,” she says, as she eyes the communal bowl of ice set out on the table for all participants to use in their drinks.

He picks up an ice cube. “You know what I’d like to do with this?”

“What?” she asks breathlessly, her voice soft like a spring rain in October.

“I’d like to get fucking rid of it.” He hurls the ice to the floor, where it smashes like a thousand diamond sparks exploding from a surging rainbow of lightning, and turns to the bartender. “My wife deserves her OWN bowl of clean ice, and SHE SHALL HAVE IT.”

Chapter Twenty: The Volleyball Game 

She watches them pounding the ball back and forth over the net from where she sits on her beach chair. She looks totally hot in her bikini, although no one can see it, because she’s wearing that ankle-length, UPF-50 wrap that keeps her skin looking like she’s 21. Everyone asks where she got it.

As he reaches his muscled arm toward the sky to prepare to spike the ball like an iron tsunami of masculine power, he freezes suddenly. He sets the ball gently down, causing absolutely no sand whatsoever to fly up into the wind and blow into her face.

“Was that the buzzer on the dryer I just heard?”

The others nod. They’re sure they heard it too. They want to help fold. All of them.

(And so on.)


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  1. I read all three of the “Fifty” books before they became the media craze that they are today. Sorry if you don’t feel it is quite up to your snuffy standards. They are very enjoyable. Also, sorry you feel that you can make fun of and put them down without even reading them.

    I love it when people feel the need to ridicule that which they don’t even try to understand. Found your blog through the goddess that is the blogess. Good luck to you and your narrowmindedness.

    • Becky — perhaps you should invest in more batteries instead of your internet bill —

      This blog is hysterical — and 50 shades is nothing short of what someone who is desperate would read and find “satisfaction” in.

      What is to understand? It’s a May-December “romance”, spun off of fan fiction for the Twilight series — the only difference is, instead of vampire hunting, they are orgasm hunting.

      If you took out all the times she climaxes, like OMG, you would be down to 50 pages.

      • it’s not even May-December. He’s supposed to be 27. They have a 5 year age difference. Now, I have known many 27 yo’s, most of them not in the biblical sense, or course but enough to surmise that most of them have no idea what the heck they’re doing and are hoping for the best. They certainly are not any kind of sexual gurus able to manipulate female organs like that guy does. 27? please.

    • Becky…. I love candy corn and The Sisters of Mercy and I used to watch You Can’t Do That on Television and I favor men’s socks with capries and I think it is kind of sexy when you can see my grey roots. I do not, however, expect the world to condone any of these expressions of my sometimes bad taste.

      Fifty shades of grey is just…bad. Really, really bad writing. If you can get enjoyment out of it, then more power to you and thumb your nose at me and know that you’ve gotten the best of the deal. I’ll eat my candy corn and shrug. But they are both still, empirically, bad.

  2. Oh, wow. I was going to comment on how funny I thought your “mommy porn” was. But then that comment above caught my attention. I also found you through the Bloggess, and this is the first time I’ve read your blog. I find you funny, and not narrowminded regarding the book. Not everything appeals to everyone. Don’t we all judge books on excerpts and back covers and then decide if it seems like something we would be interested in reading? That last commenter really took your opinions on a book very personally. People are sooo sensitive. sheesh.

  3. Haha! Very funny. I love your ‘mommy porn’. I clicked over from The Bloggess because I am looking for real women’s opinions on Fifty Shades. I was an obsessed Twilight Mom for a while and now I’ve gone the opposite direction. Since Fifty Shades originated as Twilight fanfic, of which I’ve read and written my fair share, I’m intrigued but wary. Your comment about ‘He’s so freaking hot’ should be prefaced with OMG hits the nail on the head for me. I read a lot of erotica so I’m all in for the porn aspect but that sentence right there makes me cringe. Props to the author for getting published and for people going crazy over her books. Just not sure I’ll be one of them. By the way, I love your mixed metaphors. They are quite delicious. And I’m one of this shallow narrow minded people who passes books up based on the synopsis on the back cover. Or does that actually mean I know what I like and don’t want to waste my time with something I won’t like? Hence the erotica.😉

  4. The first person who commented needs to take a pill. No, I won’t be reading the book, and not because I don’t really like erotica. It’s because it’s BADLY, HORRIBLY written! Incomplete sentences, jumbled thoughts, I won’t go on from there.
    She makes Stephanie Meyer look like Shakespeare. Seriously, to each their own, and it’s a totally free country. I’m sure that EL James isn’t shedding any tears.
    Where’s Anais Nin when we need her most?

      • Amen! I read the first book and perused the other two, and all I was thinking was : Anais Nin must be turning in her grave. This is supposed to be kinky? Seriously? And please stop with the “holy cows” and find another adjective to describe him than “hot”.

      • oh, oh, I so agree. To think that for years I hid my Anais Nin books inside other books so I could read them on the train. I am so ashamed of myself now! Nigh on a hundred years later people can display the appallingly written, (though admittedly hilarious) 50 Shades Trilogy on their book shelves with pride. I am equal parts appalled and disappointed.

        I loved your review btw. Mommy porn indeed. Also could add: “Honey. How about I take the kids out all day long, and you lie here in bed reading books, blogs and chuckling to yourself?”

  5. Interesting to see the reaction I got from you…

    Snuff on🙂

    (Sorry I was so “offensive” on my first post. PMS is a bitch, and so am I when I am suffering from it)

    PS – I like celery.

  6. You are brilliant. This is great. My wife got sucked into these books, which is fine by me, because it has pleasant side effects, but this is a hilarious and much more realistic foil to the 50 Shades stuff!

  7. Found this blog because someone posted this link on the Huffington Post article where Ellen reads Fifty Shades – this post is hysterical, especially the communal ice bowl – I about died laughing. I did read the books and they were indeed poorly written, but still fun. I see no probem with your “parodying” of them – after all, that’s what EL James did by writing fanfiction of Twilight!

  8. ML: OMG that was so freaking hot. The world needs more voices like yours, and fewer like “Becky’s”…alas, there’s no accounting for taste.

  9. Loved the book & the blog! I emailed this link to my husband to let him know that this is my kind of porn!

  10. See, this has me all hot and bothered and I’m not even a mommy! It definitely crosses borders and when this is a trilogy, I will read it and I will totally love it and talk about it to all my friends. Over mimosas. While our husbands are at home. It’s going to be AWE-SOME!

  11. Well isn’t the internet funny? Found my way here from a comment on nytimes artsbeat. Definitely worthwhile to read this. A former coworker (female) says her husband got the trilogy for her and now he has to use a chair and whip (maybe not in that order). Although she could be spinning a yarn. Ah who knows, it’s all impermanent.

  12. Yes. Yes! YES!!! Like, OMG, your mommy porn is totally awesome and the HOTTEST.
    OK, I am going to step down from the teen text talk now… very carefully, in case in fracture a hip or drop my false teeth.
    “He strides confidently from the room like a proud snake.” Hell, yes! Deploy those needless adverbs, woman! Create similes that would make a Mills and Boon author gag! You’re obviously at the top of your game here.
    Have to say, my fave was definitely the volleyball game.

    “he freezes suddenly. He sets the ball gently down, causing absolutely no sand whatsoever to fly up into the wind and blow into her face.

    “Was that the buzzer on the dryer I just heard?”

    The others nod. They’re sure they heard it too. They want to help fold. All of them.”

    Ooh la la. *fans self* It’s almost more than womanly flesh can take! Be still, my beating pacemaker!
    Oh, and I loved your hypothetical conversation with EL James, the saucy wench. Hilarious!

  13. I am so glad I happened upon your blog this morning! I can’t remember the last time I laughed out loud so many times, but your mixed metaphors (in particular) were wonderful. I will be checking out your other posts as well…thanks!

  14. “iron tsunami of masculine power”

    This brings back my fantasies of two men at once–one vacuuming and one dusting. I’m all hot and bothered just thinking about it. Oh, wait, never mind, just another hot flash.

  15. Came by from Fadra’s blog (congrats!!) and am crying with laughter! This is just straight up awesome in every way.

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