Tag Archives: Fifty shades of grey
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
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…”
Thank you, thank you, thank you EL James for bringing Christian Grey into our lives….
I can’t speak for the rest of the nation, but in this sleepy southern town, filled with mini vans and soccer moms, “Fifty Shades” has enabled even some of our most conservative set to think (and act) outside of the proverbial sexual box.
Fortunately, none of OUR libraries have yet to ban the book. In my mind, that’s bordering on heresy. And of course, banning the books is all it takes to wipe away any and all lustful and lascivious thoughts, right? (It is interesting though as a side note, a librarian in one community that objected to the book so profusely, does still have the book, as reported, on her office desk with all the scandalous parts marked. How convenient for her. She gets paid to read this book! I imagine she will continue to publicly object to this book for a good long while if she’s able to keep it close at hand with the “objectionable” parts marked for easy access. Has anyone checked her desk drawer? Bet her supply of batteries is not lacking. And yes, I would imagine she’s experiencing heightened levels of “satisfaction” from her job this spring….)
Why should any good- willed, law-abiding, tax-paying citizen have to endure such depravation and be prohibited the pleasure of reading about those long fingers, those stealthy hips with their perfectly hung pants, that beautiful thick copper hair and those stinging, piercing grey eyes?
Just think what this type of sexual censorship could lead to. The next thing you know, those same folks will be knocking on our doors trying to confiscate our Rabbits for crying out loud and then where will we be????
Banning E L James, really?? We need to be unabashedly thanking her. This book has made America come alive! In fact, mayors across America should be bowing down to her for what her imagination has done for their local economies. Let’s break this down. Book stores can’t keep it on the shelves, Hustler stores are smiling big and gas is being guzzled as moms everywhere are lingering at lights, in parking lots and even in their garages as they revel in thoughts of Christian’s playroom. It’s trickle-down economics at its best!
Not to mention, the production levels of many husbands have probably soared through the roof this spring. They think they’ve died and gone to heaven, willing half their estate to James if she would just write a fourth book. Thoughts of the shackles, the cuffs, the whips….testosterone levels are soaring. Even the secretaries they used to have afternoon quickies with are getting ignored so they can get home to their soccer wives turned sex slaves. Look at the boom this is providing the sanctity of marriage, our nation’s oldest institution. That’s right, I would venture to say you are just plain un-American unless you read these books. Thank you again EL James, smack dab in the middle of an election year, you’ve shown us just what it means to be an American.
I vote Obama should consider hiring this woman. Her “stimulus package” could compete with his any day. After all, there are plenty of women out their who, after reading James’ books, would pay good money to stimulate Christian’s package….