Katistasia: Our slogan should be “Reading crap so you don’t have to since 2015.”
Oh, friends. We did something SO STUPID. We decided to read EL James’ Grey. It seemed like an excellent opportunity for snark. Evidently I’ve subjected us to 450 pages of lip biting.
Pattistasia: I read the acknowledgements and already hate you.
Katistasia: Not nearly as much as I hate myself. I NEED TO GOUGE MY EYES OUT.
Seriously though, how can you claim to have written this especially for the fans as a thank you then charge them for it? It’s not like she needs the money at this point.
Pattistasia: I hate you.
Katistasia: Also, with that many extreme skin color changes while just having a conversation, girlfriend obviously needs to get herself to the ER. She’s either having a heart attack or extreme fever. This is not the time to be attempting to cause similar color changes yourself with a riding crop. I mean, the girl has skin like Hypercolor t-shirts, so stop being judgmental about her clothing choices. Gosh, what. An. Ass.
Pattistasia: So much hate.
Katistasia: Because this book is so terrible, and I don’t have the heart or time to do it myself since Uproxx already has, here’s a link to the fifty worst quotes from the book:
May God have mercy on your soul if you decide to click through.
Pattistasia: Did I tell you they interviewed ELJ on the radio this morning? I listened to it on the way to a doctor’s appt. She is absolutely and completely convinced that a) People’s lives have been made better because of her books b) She writes words good and c) This is a romance. She is the Rachel Dolezal of romance writers: either certifiably insane or pathologically arrogant.
Katistasia: Seriously, though, the whole thing is filled with crap like this: “I’m watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest and I’m breathing in sync with her. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. For seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know, I watch her. And while she sleeps I survey every beautiful inch of her lovely face. Her dark lashes fluttering while she sleeps, her lips slightly parted so I glimpse her even white teeth. She mutters something unintelligible and her tongue darts out and licks her lips. It’s arousing, very arousing. Finally I fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.”
Or this: “An image of her shackled to my bench , peeled gingerroot inserted in her ass so she can’t clench her buttocks, comes to mind , followed by judicious use of a belt or strap. Yeah…That would teach her not to be so irresponsible. The thought is hugely appealing.”
Pattistasia: WHAT THE FUCK? This? EL James thinks this, protruding from someone’s asshole, is sexy?
Katistasia: I just don’t get why people are so fascinated with this shit.
Obviously since it’s recycled from Fifty Shades, just told from Christian’s perspective, much of the dialogue is the same. We’re just allowed to see his inner thoughts, so to speak. I am… not impressed. He wonders constantly about what his former mistress, Elena, would think, or about doing various things of a sexual nature to Anastasia. That’s it. He’s quite possibly the dullest, most predictable male protagonist it has ever been my misfortune to read. And I’m only on page 100.
PATTISTASIA. I DON’T KNOW THAT I CAN TAKE ANY MORE.
Pattistasia: Dude. This is madness.
Katistasia: agreed, Pattistasia. For the first time, I find myself giving up on a book. It’s THAT BAD. I mean, I read the entire first volume of Shark Shifters and way more Kristen Ashley than anyone should. This is still the worst.
Pattistasia: Alright, here’s the deal people: if you enjoyed FSoG, you’re gonna be all
If you didn’t, you won’t bother but know it’s
I quit. Fuck this.
Katistasia: And with that, dear friends, we take our leave. EL James has broken us.