50 Shades of Shit

Bit of an easy title really. Not particularly happy about it. I initially thought "50 Shits of Shit" so feel free to name this piece with either of the titles given. You know, whichever sums up your feelings about this book. Can't go a day this past month or so without hearing a female talk about this, or more specifically the main guy Christian Grey (who, for the purposes of this collection of words will be known as Christian Shit). I would like to point out that I have only read 8 pages of the first book and will not be reading any further. However I have heard much of the story being told in my office, and detailed descriptions of the sex people and their sex acts. It is quite obvious that although it is written from the perspective of a woman it has very little to do with her, rather the sexual charms of her counterpart. Mr Shit.

The 8 pages I have read are laughable, and I mean laughable as in the sheer disbelief that something could be so poorly written. It's like a 5 year old being asked to imagine sex with an older sibling and then ordered to write about it. I've heard from the sorry sods who have read all 3 books that this doesn't get any better and the novelty of sauciness is soon replaced by the boredom of repeated sexual encounters described in the repeated unimaginative ways. But rather than berate someone who has sold millions of something, no matter how poor, I'm more concerned with the female reaction to Mr Shit.

He is unfathomably handsome, rich and a narcissist. Oh, and he is also a dominant sexual being. So dominant the females in his life should be nothing more than sex slaves bending, both figuratively and literally, to his wants and needs. I'm sure there's plenty of females wondering what my point is, and some males too who would like their women to be submissive and plain. But how far would you really be willing to go if this was happening in your real life? Of the many faults I can only imagine Mr Shit has there are two which I actually know about, and they are enough to make someone's toes curl to the point the actually dislocate and reach your knees.

1. "Hold tight, baby". When I asked to read some of the book in question I specifically asked for a part with sex in. The scene was in a lift, Mr Shit gets buckled into Miss Bland ripping her underwear and hitching her skirt up, the manly bastard. Just before he penetrates her with the fleshy nozzle of his man-fork he says those words. "Hold tight, baby". I laughed until I stopped. This is obviously an example of the poor, unskilled writing I mentioned earlier but women reading are supposed to be daydreaming about being in this situation and I have to ask you, seriously, what would you do if your partner/boss/brother gets you all hot and ready for a cockslam and says those words. Those exact words. Your ladyparts would shut quicker than Joseph Fritzl's cellar door when he hears his wife coming down the stairs. And rightly so. No-one of sane mind would want to hear that, and any man who feels comfortable saying that should be physically removed from the area, and then from life itself.

It does say a lot about the character but it says even more about the women that read the book and find Mr Shit to be an attractive suitor. The man is so confident in his ability to fuck that he has lost control of his brain. I am of the opinion that even if he was the God of Fuck and he had a massive cock capable of latching onto your g-spot it couldn't be enjoyable as those words would still be haunting your head. Honestly, what a fucking dick, thinking he can get away with saying whatever he wants to a bird. The writer and the character certainly don't understand the epic amounts of effort and luck it takes a man to get into that fortunate position in the first place and I'm sure that there isn't a man reading that would waste all his hard graft by saying something so fucking ridiculous. Ladies, I don't have you pegged as a shallow lot. Honestly some of you are actually intelligent people with valued opinions. If you would be willing to ignore these words for a shot at money and sex then tie this rope around your leg and throw yourself from this moving train, allowing your face and tattered vaj to be dragged for 20 miles over hot sharp gravel.

2. The Sex Contract. Apparently Mr Shit is not content with getting his legover and being grateful for the opportunity like us mere mortals. He draws up a sex contract, a list of things he not just wants, but actually expects from Miss Bland when they take part in horizontal jogging. 1% of me understands why this would be necessary. Sex games are dangerous, just ask Michael Hutchence, who you can't ask because he's dead from a sex game. Drawing up limits and boundaries seems like a safe way to take part in this book about a woman being dominated by a man and his sexual requirements. Forgive me if I'm wrong but sometimes the best part about sex, apart from actually getting to have sex, is the spontaneity. The simple fact that you don't know what is going to happen next is what makes it fun and desirable, and you're certainly not going to get that if you have to stop just before you kiss someone to give them a list of demands. "As much as I would like to continue with this exchange of fluids I just have to ask you to read, understand, and accept this list of sexual expectations. By signing you are agreeing to take part in whatever I deem necessary, will most likely include some, if not all of the aforementioned list". The mood would turn quicker that that time I turned up at a child's funeral wearing my clown outfit.

The whole idea is preposterous and reeks of a person that is not interested in the person he is having sex with but rather what he can actually get her to do. One of the things sticks out more than the rest, for me anyway. A part of the contract states that, should he want to, he will fist the girl in her arse. Just so we're not under any confusion here I mean he wants to take his actual fist and insert it into the place in which she shits from. That is simply one of the worst things I've ever heard in my entire life, and I once sat through a whole episode of "King of Queens". I am of medium build and height and my clenched fist measure 5 inches across. I'm certain that there will be some liberal minded females who have took a cock up the arse before, and I'm pretty certain that even the larger of cocks could only be a couple of inches wide. Not talking about mine, of course. Unfortunately I fell out of the penis tree, misunderstood the whole process, and purposely avoided contact with every branch on the way down. I've had a few memorable shits in my lifetime which have been colossal in size, felt like they were coming out sideways and certainly enough to make me weep. They could only have been a couple of inches wide. All of the above points to the fact that something registering 5 inches in width should not be inserted into anyone's arse.

Apart from it being unnatural in the physical sense it is also the idea of someone who's brain just wasn't wired up the correct way. I can understand that mental stimulation is a very important part of the whole disgusting act of sex. Different smells and sounds and feelings can provoke numerous different responses of arousal. The strangest one for me was the time I was about to have sex out the back of a fish shop and I jizzed in my pants due to the smell of the fat fryer. The expectation is also a fun part of the process, knowing that from when you kiss a certain person there's a probability that at some point you will get the chance to spunk in her face and run away laughing your head off. What sort of person gets turned on at the thought of arse fisting, seriously? Regardless of whether you're the fister or the fistee it can't be pleasurable. The excitement of expectation would be replaced by fear of having your arsehole turned from small opening to mouth of a yawning dog in a matter of minutes. Am I the only person thinking this is just fucking weird?

I think we can all agree we have covered something pretty disturbing here. Perhaps the most disturbing thing is that women still find this man attractive to the point where they have scornful thoughts and actions towards their respective partners for not being exactly like this cretin. I'm sure that females will defend themselves by telling us he has many other great and desirable qualities, that in the book Miss Blandy McBlandpants actually opposes the act of arse fisting and has it removed from the sex contract. But that isn't the point. The point is he actually thought about performing this act and suggested it, and you still fantasize about him.

And that makes you fucked up.