From novel to film, either way you look at it, Fifty Shades of Grey is a literary phenomenon. This poorly written, mommy porn, one-star-out-of-five story somehow made its way to the top. Hollywood hated it, celebrities mocked it and still it slithered from the pages to a full-length film. I still can’t wrap my brain around women falling for the novel’s main character, Christian Grey.
Sure he’s handsome and yes he’s successful, however, his love of inflicting pain for pleasure has me scratching my black-woman head.
Anywho, I thought if this book had been written with me as his love interest the dialogue may have gone like this:
CG: “Just lay back and relax while I place these handcuffs on you.”
ME: “Excuse me! The only way those cuffs are going on me is if you have a warrant and I’m under arrest! And from what I can see you ain’t the Po-Po!”
CG: “I want to grab you by your lovely locks until you scream, then make love to you!”
ME: “Wait, uh what?? I just had these extensions put in and it costs $450 for the good stuff like Beyoncé has! Ain’t nobody toughin’ or grabbin’ nothin’ without losing their fingers!”
CG: “I want keep you tied up overnight so that can whip you into passionate frenzy in the morning.”
ME: “???. . . Okay, I’m ret’ to go, I said I’M RET’ TO GO! So back off or you’ll be fifty shades of black and blue! With that being said Mister Grey I have only two words left to say, so listen up . . . Bye Felicia!”