Fifty Shades of Bullshit…

I read the Fifty Shades of Gray books.  All three of them.  They passed the time.

Mommies are busy and tired.  Why not spice things up?

I have one mediocre friend who claims she read the Fifty Shades books on maternity leave because she just had to know how the story ended.  Really, mommy?  The plot kept you reading?  Did I ever mention that Hubby had a subscription to Playboy when we were dating because “the articles were just so interesting”?

Mommies went to see the movie. Mommies went to the theater with girlfriends, and mommies will see the movie on DVD.  Whatever floats your boat, girl!  Get after it!

l will be honest.  I sat in the front row to see Magic Mike with my mediocre girlfriends.  And, yes, indeed, I will see the second one, probably all alone.  Because I really want to be in my own bed with naked Channing Tatum across the room.  Don’t judge!

But, back to Fifty Shades.  I don’t think I will see this movie.

I read that the Christian Gray actor visited sex shops and sex clubs to prepare for his role.  He said that he needed to shower before he could touch his wife and newborn baby.  He just felt so dirty.

Dude, what exactly were you doing in the name of “research”?  And what publicist told you to say that?

Here’s the deal.  Once upon a time, I tried just about anything in the bedroom.  (Okay, fine, it was last week, but whatever!) To see if I might like it, or to be able to say that, yes, indeed, I had “been there and done that.”  So what if I didn’t hate having my ass smacked while doing it in the front seat of my new car?  Who are you, Hollywood Pretty Boy, to judge how anybody gets their fun?  Who are you to say that my definition of pleasure is “dirty”?

Besides the lead actor being a Puritanical prick, I have problems with the entire premise of the story.

Here is a simplistic recap of the story line…..

Young, vulnerable, naïve female reporter gets a dream assignment to interview a wealthy, spoiled, narcissistic, bachelor business mogul.  He is damaged and sadistic.  She is horny and innocent.  They enter a consensual slave and master sexual relationship.  They have crazy kinky sex, but she sees a softer side to him as well.  They develop feelings for each other.  By the end of the book series, her love and innocence have allowed him to recover from his damaged past.  He finds sexual satisfaction in her love alone, and she finds her happily-ever-after.

Get the idea?

First of all, how many of us mommies feel young and innocent anymore?  I can’t speak for all of us, but I’m mostly just grown and cynical.  I have had enough experience to know that wealthy may be nice, but egotistical and spoiled are probably not going to change.

Horny is horny, and kinky sex is pretty fantastic.  But let’s not confuse it with love.  Sex brings all kinds of fabulous emotions, but true love is scraping the vomit out of your lover’s hair when they have the flu.  Yay!  Happily ever after.

Love is not necessarily healing.  More often, it means finding someone who will accept you as damaged and still choose to love you.

Now…you want me to do what??  Hey, right, that sounds like a great idea.  I have had your spawn sucking on my tits all day, and I couldn’t wait for you to get home, shove a plug in my ass, and remind me who is the boss.

On second thought, I have an even better idea.  How about you go load the dishwasher and get the screaming toddler out of time-out?  How about we try Fifty Shades of Housework?  Or Fifty Shades of Leave-Me-the-Fuck-Alone?

Let me tell you something, Christian Gray.  There is absolutely no leather riding crop that can turn me on like the scent of lemon Pine-Sol.

If you are willing to slog through the piles of laundry and help me load the dishwasher, I may be willing to try that blindfold in 5 years or so.  Or at least something a little more inspired than the lazy handjobs you’ve been getting lately.

How about Fifty Shades of Real Life?

 

 

 

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