Guys, today I want to make a public service announcement. Forget the covers for a minute.
I love to rip into Fifty Shades of Grey. Or Gray. Who cares?! Fifty Shades of What the Everloving Hell am I Reading. Now, much as I love to do that, I am not a critic. My contempt can only be extended so far in literary form before I get bored and go find some erotica to read. But my contempt still simmers for this god awful train wreck of a book, such that I return to it again and again to poke it with pitchforks. It’s like picking at a scab, or something. I can’t help it. I can’t be alone in this respect.
So, my friends, if you’re anything like me and you love to hate on Fifty Shades, you’ll enjoy the following: the best of the worst reviews of E.L. James’ crappy Twilight knock off, according to my oddball liking for particular kinds of snark.
Ah, what a way to start the week… Leave more in the comments if you’ve got them.