Fifty Shades of Grey: A Blow-by-Blow (Parts 1-5)

Guys, I had to take a year-long break from this shit because I could feel a tumor growing in my brain from over-reading this garbage. But I’m back. So let’s get this over with.

Chapter Twenty-One

– There’s that word again. “Endeavor”, right in the first sentence.

– She creeps into the living room and encounters a well-dressed blonde woman. The first thing that comes out of Ana’s mouth is “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.” The woman, Christian’s housekeeper, refers to her as Ma’am. Guess what Ana’s reaction is…. I’ll tell you: Ma’am!

– I feel like he walks around with foil packets tucked into every corner of his car, his clothes, his office.

“You want it, you got it, baby,” he mutters, producing a foil packet from his pants pocket while he unzips his pants. Oh Mr. Boy Scout.

– These two are broken records.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” he breathes as he nuzzles my neck. “You completely beguile me, Ana. You weave some powerful magic.”

He releases my wrists, and I run my fingers through his hair, coming down from my high. I tighten my legs around him.

“I’m the one beguiled,” I whisper.

He looks up, gazing at me, his expression is disconcerted, alarmed even. Placing his hands on either side of my face, he holds my head in place.

“You. Are. Mine,” he says, each word a staccato. “Do you understand?”

– Oh, look. An answer to my musing:

I glance down at the foil packet beside me.

“Always prepared,” I murmur.

He looks at me confused as he redoes his fly. I hold up the empty packet.

“A man can hope, Anastasia, dream even, and sometimes his dreams come true.”

Cue “When You Wish Upon A Star”.

– There is an underlying sexism (blonde-ism) that Ana is into. She has learned to dislike beautiful blonde women because of Christian’s penchant for them. And this following passage, during her interview at SIP, helped that along:

The receptionist is a young African-American woman with large silver earrings and long straightened hair. She has a bohemian look about her, the sort of woman I could be friendly with. The thought is comforting.

Very catty. She also notes another woman with Pre-Raphaelite hair, which I had to look up, and it’s pretty much the hair you get when you braid it after a shower and sleep with it overnight. Then it’s all crimped and frizzy the next day.

Ana's favorite shirt that she doesn't wear in public, but lounges in at home.
Ana’s favorite shirt that she doesn’t wear in public, but lounges in at home.

– Ana is once again wearing Kate’s clothes. Someone set up a GoFundMe for this clothes-less bitch.

– Her go-to reply whenever meeting someone new seems to be “How do you do?” No one ever gives her a reply because it is a generic and insincere question.

– Jack Hyde, SIP’s commissioning editor, asks her what extra-curricular activities she indulged in at WSU. Ana things indulge is “an odd choice of word.” She needs to look back at her dubious conversations with Mr. Grey and reevaluate indulge.

– Kate can see that Ana’s complicated relationship with Fifty Shades is taking a toll on her. She promises not to rile Christian up again, and also offers her ear for whenever Ana wants to talk about. Here I thought Ana will finally let Kate know of the abuse she goes through, instead:

“Oh, Kate.” I hug her. “I think I’ve really fallen for him.”

“Ana, anyone can see that. And he’s fallen for you. He’s mad about you. Won’t take his eyes off you.”

The same can be said for a stalker.

– Ana emails Christian about her interviews in not so many words. He replies, “Everything you do interests me, you are the most fascinating woman I know.” Makes me wonder how dry the other women in Christian’s life are.

– Also, gotta hand it to Mr. Long Fingers for telling Ana: “‘Weirding’ is not a verb and should not be used by anyone who wants to go into publishing.” Tell ‘er!

– Every time he alludes to Ana being intelligent, bright, smart, intriguing, or interesting, I am just picturing the planks of wood with vaginas that he has interacted with his whole life.

Chapter Twenty-Two

– Ana is flying to Jacksonville Georgia to see her mom, and she’s been upgraded to first class. She opens up her Mac to “test the theory that it works anywhere on the planet.” Of course, it fucking will as long as it has enough charge. The question is, do you have the WiFi password? Or did Christian and his team over at the Apple Genius Bar somehow program this laptop to automatically connect to open networks….or hack into protected ones? I feel like the creepy clinger did it.

– He signs his emails “Two Palms Twitching CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.”. Her reaction is Two palms!

– Who the heck does this no panty wearing virgin think she is?

However, I like traveling first class, it’s so much more civilized than coach.

– She lands in Georgia and her mom immediately wants to talk about Ana’s love life.

“So Ana… tell me about this man who has you in such a spin.”


I still have no idea why she reacts like this.

– I skimmed past Christian’s email. It was way too Drake for my taste. But Ana thought in the end: “Holy crap. He’s written an essay like we’re back at school – and most of it good.

He doesn’t want to lose me.

He’s said that twice! He wants to make this work too. Oh Christian, so do I! He’s going to try and stay away! Does this mean he might fail to stay away? Suddenly, I hope so. I want to see him. We’ve been apart less than twenty-four hours, and knowing that I can’t see him for four days, I realize how much I miss him. How much I love him.

Control your shit, Ana!
Control your shit, Ana!

– Fucking called it:

“You look lovely, dear.”

“Oh, this is Kate’s dress. You like it?” Her frown deepens.

“Why are you wearing Kate’s dress?”

Oh… no.

“Well I like this one and she doesn’t,” I improvise quickly.

She regards me shrewdly while Bob oozes impatience with his hangdog, hungry look.

“I’ll take you shopping tomorrow,” she says.

“Oh, Mom, you don’t need to do that. I have plenty of clothes.”


– They are still corresponding by emails. Text is probably more efficient, also less data used. But anyway, Christian says, “I thought I had a more concupiscent effect on you.” To which Ana replies, “Have you been playing with the thesaurus again?” I guess EL James is aware of her own faults. I wish she had stopped writing the book at this stage.

– The whole point of Ana even going to Georgia is to have mother-daughter bonding time and get away from Christian. Instead, she has spent nearly every minute either on her unicorn MacBook or her BlackBerry emailing this stalker overlord. Now that she’s having drinks with her mom, she’s gone and given herself an anxiety attack when she pressed Christian into admitting he had dinner with an “OLD Dinner companion”, Mrs. Robinson. Rude. If I flew to the other side of the country for a few days, I would relish those days by not being glued to my phone the entire time. Christian knows why she’s there. So why in the fucking fuck does he decide to fly over there after her???

Chapter Twenty-Three

– This is so not chill. If I go on a vacation to give my relationship (no matter how complicated) some space, I would assume that the guy would respect that and leave me be. But I’m not dumb Ana, and I don’t date sociopaths like Christian. If I went on an all-girl trip to Hawaii and I my boyfriend/nanny suddenly shows up, I would be mortified.

– Her mom excuses herself to the powder room again, and the two lovebirds take this short alone time to discuss Mrs. Robinson, fifteen-year-old Christian’s former Dom and current business partner. More exciting tidbit: the stopped the sexuals when her husband found out. Such drama!

– The fanfiction writer is showing:

“Well strike me down with a feather, Ana. He’s a catch. I don’t know what’s going on between you two though. I think you need to talk to each other. Phew – the UST in here, it’s unbearable.” She fans herself theatrically.

Honestly, the one people I know who would use or even know what UST is are fanfic writers. I was one of them. UST means unresolved sexual tension, which is my favorite kind of thing in majority of the books I read. This book has none of that.

“Go talk to him.”

“I can’t. I came here to see you.”

Fuck you mean you can’t? You’ve been emailing this fool even before you boarded the plane to Georgia.

– I am so damn tired of everyone assuring Ana that Christian is in love with her. They can see it because it’s clear as day, but Ana can’t. This is so unreal. Her mom just met Christian. Probably stuck around in his presence for less than five minutes. And already this dumb bitch is certain that this creep is head over heels for her daughter and is encouraging her to go talk to him? Fuck that. Something shady is going on. No one just flies 3,000 miles to follow a chick.

“Darling, don’t feel you have to come back with me. I want you happy – and right now I think the key to your happiness is upstairs in room 612. If you need to come home later, the key is under the Yucca plant on the front porch. If you stay – well… you’re a big girl now. Just be safe.”

We have some Kris Jenner-level type of shit going on here.

– You know…

He reaches between my legs and pulls on the blue string… what! And… a gently pulls my tampon out and tosses it into the nearby toilet. Holy fuck. Sweet mother of all… Jeez.

Period sex really isn’t all that bad. I just thought I’d bring this up anyway, since hella people were complaining why the movie omitted this scene.

– So basically Christian is telling Ana that if it weren’t for the pedophile Mrs. Robinson and her acceptable way of loving him, he would have gone the way of his crack whore mother. Less of two evils, I guess.

Chapter Twenty-Four

– If a guy kept insisted on making me eat, I will probably snap and shove a handful of strawberries down his throat. I am not a dog or Napoleon Dynamite’s llama.

– Christian lets Ana choose a song to play from his iPod. She finds Britney Spears’ “Toxic”. She is elated for some reason. That is until Christian says he didn’t put that song in there.

What? He knows what he’s doing, the bastard. Who did? And I have to listen to Britney going on and on. Who… who?

The song ends and the iPod shuffles to Damien Rice being mournful. Who? Who? I stare out of the window, my stomach churning. Who?

owl who

Turns out it was Leila, one of his exes.

– Mrs. Robinson’s name is Elena.

– This fool seriously hijacked her family visit to take her gliding. I can’t find anyone more selfish than that. Give the stupid girl a break!

– They went gliding, blah blah blah. That part was boring as fuck so I skimmed that. They had breakfast at IHOP and Mr. Beautiful disarms the server. Same shit.

– Overall this was a boring chapter. Ana is offered the job at SIP and she accepts, then she and Christian email back and forth like teenagers.

Chapter Twenty-Five

– Thank god I’m almost done with this book. Everything has gone quite redundant. Ana is still going whoa! and jeez! at every turn. Still swooning over Mr. Megabucks. And he’s still talking like he has a stick up his ass.

– They’re just having sex this entire chapter. Nothing special, really. Not even arousing. The fact that she orgasms when a feather brushes her clit for a millisecond kinda kills the mood. She is too easy. She is not fun to read, and neither is he.

Even Pharrell isn't amused.
Even Pharrell isn’t amused.

Chapter Twenty-Six

– He’s channeling Edward Cullen again and is found playing Chopin on a piano in the dark. Aww poor tortured soul!

– They’re reviewing the contract for some reason. I don’t care to reread the part I missed. But he’s crossed some shit out.

– They’re now talking in metaphors. Some stuff about catching and falling or some bullshit. I’m glancing at the page numbers and I’m ten pages away from being done. I can’t wait. And I can’t concentrate. But I’m sure whatever I’m not absorbing is irrelevant.

– He is now spanking her and making her count. She finally realizes that she hates him. About damn time.

I hear him drop the belt behind me, and he’s pulling me into his arms, all breathless and compassionate… and I want none of him.

“Let go… no… ” And I find myself struggling out his grasp, pushing him away. Fighting him.

“Don’t touch me!” I hiss. I straighten and stare at him, and he’s watching me as if I might bolt, gray eyes wide, bemused. I dash the tears angrily out of my eyes with the backs of my hands, glaring at him.

“This is what you really like? Me, like this?” I use the sleeve of the bathrobe to wipe my nose.

He gazes at me warily.

“Well, you are one fucked-up son of a bitch.”

“Ana,” he pleads, shocked.

“Don’t you dare, Ana me! You need to sort your shit out, Grey!” And with that, I turn stiffly, and I walk out of the playroom, closing the door quietly behind me.

Bitch finally got her shit sorted.
Bitch finally got her shit sorted.

– I will hold her to her word:

I don’t want him to hit me like that again, ever.

– He apologizes and gives her Advil and some cream for ass probably. She says she doesn’t want to leave him and confesses that she loves him. But he’s like NOOOOOOO. So she decides to actually leave because what’s the point? She makes a whole show of returning all his gifts–the MacBook, the BlackBerry, the car keys. And asks for the money Taylor got from selling her Beetle. Of course, Christian’s like nah bro keep the shit I got you.

– I really wish she finally grew a spine, but we have two books to go, which means this bitch is talking out of her ass.

“I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs, his voice full of longing.

“I can’t stay. I know what I want and you can’t give it to me, and I can’t give you what you need.”

– She keeps referring to him as Fifty Shades, and it’s really jarring.

– This is some weird shit that virgins say:

Shit – I’ve left him. The only man I’ve ever loved. The only man I’ve ever slept with.

– I’m going to need to take another year-long break before I dive into the second book. This was some booshit.