50 Shades of Wha?

Last night, I finished reading 50 Shades of Grey.

I feel like such a pervert, so filthy, so very unladylike… mostly because of how I felt the majority of the time I was reading it, which was mostly:
“That’s it?”

What the heck, man? From all I’d heard, this “mommy porn” was supposed to be dirty and embarrassing to read in public and prone to make you blush while reading it on airplanes because you think the guy sitting next to you just knows the kind of smut you’re reading… but maybe those so smutty pages were torn out of my book. Or, even worse — maybe they weren’t. Oh my goodness, maybe they weren’t and I’m so much more of a pervert than I think I am! Actually, now that I think about it, that’s pretty likely. But where are all the make-me-blush sex parts of the book? What’s with all the back story? What is this, Bliss (a sexy, late night, for-the-ladies, tv show from the early 2000s with all kinds of feelings and emotions and also some sexy time, but only the romantic, candlelit, blurry-camera-lens type of sexy time… that I only know about because somebody told me about it one time…)?

I hope I’m not the only one who thought this book didn’t cross the line nearly as much as I thought (hoped?) it would. Anyway, I guess I’m back to reading late-night Cinemax movie transcriptions in my off-time.

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