Designers first thought Fifty Shades of Grey was a bestseller about the brilliance of the people at Pantone. Then we all found out what it was really about: a creepy rich guy treating a college student like a watermelon, or, depending on your viewpoint, a college student exploring her new naïve passions with a perceptive penetrating rich dude who has a jetpack. Or, maybe about two people we are all glad are off the street with each other not us taking part in games their author heard about third-hand at the mall (real bondage fans and others decry the book and say it celebrates abuse, versus consensual controlled fun). But hey, the author’s rich now in her British kitchen, and housewives from North Dakota to Jersey are said to love it like they love what a big extending Swiffer does for them, even if others seem to feel this chunk of Twilight fan fiction sounds like it was written by a Magic 8-Ball found in a Reno trailer wrapped in strangers’ Dollar Store panties.
As we all know, they’re making a movie of this damp handbag. Charlie Hunnam dropped out of the lead male role of Mr. Grey and has been replaced by another man willing to end his career for $125K, a model named Jamie Dornan. The daughter of Working Girl star Melanie Griffiths and Miami Vice sockless wonder Don Johnson, Dakota Johnson, is apparently still determined to play the girl who got into college without having a brain.
There are parodies and E cards and the product licensing rights for Fifty have an agent too. You just know Victoria’s Secret is having A Meeting.
But wait there’s more! Like this awful discovery: an audio reading of the book allegedly by Cookie Monster. Maybe it was made for fans sitting at the dentist office having a root canal, or sliding through the long dark carwash alone?
Our question: Is someone ever going to use the safe word for "enough"?