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Death by Orgasm: The Painful Aftermath…

For some women, as I so incredulously witnessed on Memorial Day embracing their inner-Ana’s has enabled them to break through every level of social boundary. Not surprisingly, my country club has had to amend their 150-year old by-laws to discourage future orgasms in the pool area. They also passed a unanimous decision made at an emergency board of directors meeting, to reduce the level of pressure on the water jets in the baby pool. This issue was debated at length as the chairman was concerned the levels could get dangerously low. However, when the pool manager pointed out that it took only one middle-aged reader, propelled by her pulsating vaginal need to prostrate herself to the baby pool jet, to cause a total orgasmic uproar on an important family holiday, the chairman acquiesced that perhaps the club had no choice but to acknowledge the titillating power of this book and amend their policies accordingly. As the manager pointed out, while this certainly wasn’t a healthy influence on the babies present, the real problems ensued when all the other salivating women on the premise became lip-bitingly jealous of this woman’s depth of pleasure. All motherly instincts were abandoned as they started flinging babies right and left to clear a path to that jet. Floaties were burst and rubber duckies smashed. There were cuts, bruises, even a concussion caused by these Christian-hungry vaginas. Babies were screaming, pacifiers were flying and the life guards were madly blowing their whistles, but to no avail.
Amended country club by-laws:
1. The club recognizes that banning “Fifty Shades of Grey” from the property entirely would result in obliterating half the membership, hence in order to protect the club’s financial interest, the club will not ban the book.
2. In dire effort, however, to regain the family-friendly pre-Memorial Day flavor of the club, it will be required from this point forward that all books entering the pool area must be covered, preferably with a pink and green cover, but at a minimum, something equally tasteful; ereaders are preferred.
3. In full disclosure of the power of this book, the club recognizes that if allowed on the premise, orgasms are inevitable. Hence, each female member above the age of 18 is allowed one orgasm per day but ONLY if she capable of staying in her seat, rear end firmly rooted to her chair, feet on the ground. No moaning, howling or grunting allowed. Clenching chair arms is permitted.
4. For over one orgasm a day, you will be asked to leave the pool area for the day.
5.  For over two orgasms a day, you will not be allowed back in the pool area for the season (we had to draw the line somewhere).
6. No male life guards or babies may be harmed or traumatized in any way.
The Board of Directors
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Posted by on May 31, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey


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“Death by Orgasm” on Memorial Day?

I’ve come to the conclusion that there are as many shades of 50 Shades’ readers as there are shades of Christian himself. Nowhere was this more evident than at my country club’s Memorial Day festivities this year.
Let me preface by establishing the fact that this club is the quintessential, old line, pain-in-the-neck, Lily Pulizer-wearing, bastion of conservatism that you see parodied in sit coms. Yes folks, there are still places where young men are proud to carry on their family’s nauseating legacy of plaid madras shorts and penny loafers–no socks–as they sport their military-like, sheared hair cuts and Kennedyesque bleached dental work. “Christian Alert” people, we’ve moved out of the 1950’s.  Please burn those ear-shatteringly loud kelly green pants for heaven’s sake. Christian’s crisp, white linen shirts and faded jeans are doing more to grease your ladies’ groins than your old dusty threads. No offense Ralph, but your iconic pony has  been deflowered by the likes of Christian Grey.
Needless to say, despite the perineal plethora of LL Bean monogrammed swim totes, there was a slightly different tilt to the pool scene this year. Yes, they may look like they’re needle pointing a belt for their husbands (with images of birds they can’t wait to blast into smithereens when hunting season hits) when in fact, they’re discussing how entry from behind leads to much deeper penetration. It is a very smooth and sophisticated group you see, with the exterior image of a model nuclear family, honed to a tee–everyone smiling, physician husband, beautiful tennis wife, handsome intellectual son and fairy-tale looking daughter.  There’s one caveat here….that beautiful wife has sweated profusely all afternoon, not from the heat, but from the “sex on legs” she’s spent the afternoon fantasizing about.  Who knew the 1%er’s were so sexually frustrated. Perhaps if we’d known this from the start, we could have avoided a lot of havoc on Wall Street. One hour with Christian in the shower and I would bet far fewer women would be protesting tax increases.
In the spirit of the holiday, there were those brave few, and I mean FEW,  who chose to read the book, cover exposed. Now depending on your point of view this is either courageous or mind-splinteringly stupid. It’s one thing for everyone at the pool to know you’re reading some sexually charged literature and quite another for them to unequivocally deduce that you’ve become so turned on that between your book and the lemon martini’s you’ve been ordering for the past two hours, you’re now requesting handcuffs from the 20-something server instead of your usual chicken Caesar.
Other’s decided to read electronically so they could deny affiliation with the book and further claim at Sunday school next week how fundamentally offended they are by this smut. There are in fact those that assert that while everyone else has succumbed to Christian’s “kinky f**kery”, they’ve opted instead to walk in Jesus’s path. All I can say to this is, you’re going to have to do more than just throw on your Tory  Burch ensemble to cover up your desire for nipple clamps. The brand names can only do so much ladies.
In fact, as the afternoon wore on, had there been a shred of doubt in anyone’s mind what the majority of women seated around the pool were reading, with each martini consumed, the picture became clearer and clearer.
Let’s just suffice it to say Fifty Shades, martini’s, and country club decorum don’t all blend together seamlessly. Poor Lily Pullitizer would have turned fifty shades of hot pink if she could have seen what these inhabiters of her Palm Beach prints were doing. Yes, their D.A.R. memberships may have had professional genealogical research to back them up, but by God, to hell with the Revolution, when the urge for “death by orgasm” calls, a woman must respond, Memorial Day or not.
And respond these women did.  It was a tad sobering when one woman,  having just completed book one and realizing her family was nowhere near ready to depart for the day, decided to take a dip in the pool. Unfortunately for the toddlers, the strongest jet she could find was in the baby pool. Legs splayed and head thrown back, she found her release. The poor babies, however, thought a groaning sea monster had invaded their waters.
This was nothing, however, compared to the 50-year old grandmother who, only half way through book two, decided she had to have a schlong, sooner rather than later, proceeded to climb the life guard chair, peel her knee-length skirted one-piece to the side and gleefully attempt to mount the only male life guard on the premise. “Hail to the Chief!”
Other readers I know, however, have had an array of 50 Shades mishaps shall we say and were not able to make it to the pool at all to celebrate our troops. My friend whose poor husband wasted away from the hour plus Hustler store tutorial, has now injured herself from a combination of the compulsory angle in which she has held her neck for the last three days, trying to get through book two and further complicated by the big-rabbit vibrator she bought, (hoping to “detonate” as Ana did),  which apparently had such powerful capability, she experienced a “healing cathartic orgasm”,  (and unfortunately, one that left her in a neck brace). Rumor has it though, another of our friends wound up in the ER on Memorial Eve, unable to retrieve the butt plugs she forced her husband to insert despite his protests.  I’m thinking that fine line between pleasure and pain became too much for her to bare….
All in all, it was a Memorial Day to remember.  Though it may not have appeared as if the root of the holiday was at the forefront of everyone’s mind, I think we could argue they did their best. “Onward Christian Soldiers…”
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Posted by on May 30, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey


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Do you have Anastasia-Envy?

The modern woman in each of us would likely assert that our gravitation to “Fifty Shades” has nothing to do with any kind of buried envy of the protagonist. She is young, naive, and many would argue, distastefully codependent.  After all, who even contemplates signing a sex contract, having your food, your clothes, your alcohol, your sleep, your car, your dating schedule, heck even your masterbation schedule dictated? This is something Michelle, Hillary or for crying out loud, even Barbara Bush wouldn’t advocate.  The women’s movement of the 70’s fought for our rights to express, contradict, go braless and play with ourselves as we wish. Somehow I’m not thinking Gloria Steinem would have desired  Christian’s twitchy palms…..or would she??
Many of us assume roles in the bedroom outside our public personas, granted most don’t involve giving up their God-given, civil liberties, but never the less, it’s not uncommon.  But this book invites us to ask the question, “how far would you go?”
Despite our modernness, many are not only finding that question intoxicating but life altering. Unfortunately, for a certain sect of women (all my friends, I might add) their needs have become much greater than society and more importantly, their husbands, can endure. Perhaps Christian’s insistence on nutrition and personal trainers isn’t so far off after all, but who would have thought these middle aged, mini-van driving zealots would have tapped into this level of physical exertion. It’s nothing short of “Anathasia Envy” run amuck.
Granted these very  women have been in the most viscous cycle of potty training, playdate, homework hell you can imagine for the last 10 years, but their
“Envy” is over the top. They’ve lost all perspective. While their  poor husbands donned a heaven-like smile when their wives started the book, those very same men, trying their best to love, cherish and obey, have been “Fifty Shades of f****ed” to the point they are having to seek psychological therapy and physical safety.
One husband I know, peers around the bedroom door before entering to see if his wife is reading. He envisions the good ole days when the bedroom was for sleeping. His groin, so overused it’s chapped and peeling, is begging for a break.
Another poor fellow was forced to endure hour and a half personalized tutoring sessions at the Hustler Store, at the end of which his wife had maxed out her credit card and was panting and  foaming at the mouth to get him home only to find her Christian had passed out in the whip section. Despite his less than firm state, after having received her B12 shot that day, she drove his listless body home at 90 miles an hour, planning their next tryst. This poor fellow–she forced him to tie her hands to the bedpost recollecting with envy the “slam” that Anstasia received and praying hers would be as brutal (threatening to whip him with her new Williams-Sonoma sauté pan for failure to comply) and then waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Overwhelmed by the pressure and out of refills of Viagra, he gave up, hopelessly crumbling onto the floor, knocked out cold by the thought of more Christian.
I’d say this constitutes envy all right. If we don’t find a way to tone these women down soon, these husbands are going to be mere shells of their prior selves. These fanatics have answered the question, “how far would you go?” and then some. Perhaps EL James is helping us to redefine the modern woman. With Christian in our lives, we definitely will not need hormone replacement therapy. We may not be as sexually independent as Steinem had hoped,  but clearly many a reader has proved herself more than happy to trade her feminist side for some twitchy palms any day of the week….
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Posted by on May 28, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey


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Poorly Written and Plotless?” Fifty Shades is anything but…..

For those of you who have read reviews of your latest obsession, you are probably aware they are not glowing. “Poorly written” and “plotless” are two common criticisms. I beg to differ.
I mean come on here, let’s be honest. Not one of us cracked the cover with the expectation of finding Shakespearean literature within. But let’s be realistic on another point too. Who needs to even ask herself  “Romeo, Romeo, where art thou Romeo”?  Once you’ve read James’s delicious description of the way Christian’s pants hang off his come hither hips, not to mention the hypnotic and sculptural quality she gives his….., you’re about as concerned with Romeo’s whereabouts as you are your 5th-grade math teacher’s.
I mean anyone who can make giving a BJ sound like visiting a confectionary shop has my respect. Heck, I’m halfway expecting to walk into my local juicery and find the “CG Special”, a creamy-colored, frothy treat, sold out no less.

And hence, back to my original point, poorly  written and plotless? This woman has captivated us. I don’t know one reader who hasn’t put their life on hold, delaying household chores, errands, friends, and yes, even their children’s needs as they lap up this book.  Dinners, homework, sports events, teacher conferences–all of it has been scheduled around the when, the where and the how of Anathasia’s latest orgasm. Wives everywhere are feeling the electric shocks of “the Christian Effect”, calling their husbands home from the office to hump like bunnies. Many of us may soon be growing long ears and a tail… And for those without easy access to their hubbies, I would venture to guess there has been quite a bit of self pleasure had. A word of advice, I would not approach a mother parked alone in a school parking lot without giving her due warning…wouldn’t want to ruin the moment.

It may not be long before we see the emergence of a “Fifty Shades” 12-step program….”yes, I am a “Fifty Shades addict”, “yes, my life has become unmanageable”, and “yes, I’m looking to my higher power to release me from the shackles (in this case, literally) of Christian Grey’s grip”. The pull of this book IS drug-like. Perhaps these critics need to hope the “CG Special” comes to their local juicery, after all, you aren’t really qualified to review a book without partaking in its “full flavor”….
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Posted by on May 25, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey


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Caution at the ball field!

Women all over the country are Greyzed and Confused by this summer’s must read series “Fifty shades of Grey”.The sale of Ben Wa balls have sky rocketed .How could something be perverted if everyone is reading it?

So it is indeed true that there may be more than just baseballs being played with at the ballpark this season….

If you have noticed an unusually brilliant glow on many moms’ faces, smiles incongruous with the nose-pickin whiners in their back seats, along with a noticeable calm not seen since pre-children days, it may be a result of more than just little Johnny’s latest homerun. Fifty Shades has reminded numerous mini van owners around the country of the portable thrill Ben wa balls can provide.  Yes, Anastasia enjoyed them, but her thrill level couldn’t possibly begin to compare with the world it has opened to us moms as we load the dishes, fold the laundry and unstop the clogged toilet.  I mean, what a wonderful concept to be able to carpool while you climax!  If you haven’t yet experimented, it is highly recommend that you do.  Join us as we pay homage to Christian, thoughts of those long fingers could light your mini van on fire.

One note of caution…..if you do decide to sport these shiny balls at the ball park, it might be prudent to pay a modicum of attention to the game as it would not be particularly advisable to be shouting YES!, YES!, YES! as little Johnny strikes out…..

There have been a number of parodies of the book.This is one of the best!



Posted by on May 23, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey


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