Guess what time it is. That's right. It's time for another 50 Shades of Drinking V-LOG.
Oh my god, it has been so long! I have been very busy with life and stuff. There's really no
excuse, I'm sorry, but we were in the middle of moving. You might notice different background
and unholy mess behind me because I'm still unpacking and putting my show away. So good
news, I got a paperback copy of it, so that means that I can bash it on furniture and set it on fire
when I'm done with it. I have actually gotten organized about doing this. I have like a list
of what my highlights mean, so green highlight means drink, orange highlight means read this part
out loud, and pink highlight means bad writing, and yellow highlight means the book is so gross
I want to bomb it, giving up all pretense of giving this book a fair chance. It's terrible,
I'm sorry. It's chapter five, it hasn't gotten any better, it's not going to get any better,
and I'm sorry if your way of selling this book is, oh it gets so much better by the third book,
that's a terrible way to sell something. It's really crap for the first two thirds, but then
it gets good. Really, hold out for that last bit. Last chapter, we left off with Anna at the club,
I guess, and passing out. Is that what happened? I don't remember. Blah blah blah,
are they're talking to Kate? Blah blah blah. Oh yeah, okay. She passes out in Christian's arms,
and he screams fuck. Okay, so the next chapter starts with Anna waking up because this is an
effective way to do chapter endings and beginnings. Go to sleep, wake up, go to sleep, wake up. She
wakes up in a strange room that she also seizes oddly familiar, so that happens. Her brain has
trouble struggling through her memories. She thinks, holy crap. Oh good, I didn't put too much vodka in
it, sweet. Side note, I am having to cut down my alcohol consumption because I'm now again on my
medication on a regular basis, which means I get drunk super quick, so I'm actually putting less
alcohol in these things, but I'll probably still get just as smashed as I did before. Anyway,
she realizes she's in the hotel that they were doing the photo shoot in, and then she realizes,
oh my god, I must be in Christian Grey's hotel suite, and wonders how she got there. So a huge
red flag's going up for me. I don't know if you guys wake up in a strange dude's suite, and uh,
yeah. So then she remembers what happened, like slowly puts together what happened the night
before, which was, you know, the drunk phone call to Christian while she was pissing, which it just,
and the vomiting, the Jose and Christian standoff. She's all, oh this is terrible, and then she realizes
that she's not wearing anything except a t-shirt and brown panties and no socks and no jeans,
and she thinks, holy shit. Which to be fair, she should be thinking, but I'm still drinking as well.
There's orange juice and headache medication on the table next to her, and she remarks inwardly
that Christian is a control freak. She's miraculously not super hungover and feels better than she
deserves because only immoral nasty people get drunk. Right, guess what, Anna? She then waxes
poetic about how delicious this orange juice is. Like, honestly, her talking about the orange
juice shows more excitement and lust than her talking about Christian throughout this entire
book, but I digress. There's a knock on the door, and then she says he opens the door anyway and
strolls in. Nowhere before saying this does she say who she thinks it might be. She just says he,
this is he. I mean, I'm assuming it's Christian because they're like literally, you know,
other characters in this book except, you know, Kate and Elliot who are just sort of,
they're as foil. I mean, like, you're supposed to believe that the entire world revolves around Anna
and Christian in there. Little bubble of love, and yeah, so I'm assuming that he is Christian,
but this is terrible writing. She thinks holy hell about his pants that hang off in that way,
off his hips and lusts after his sweat. Then she thinks she feels like a two year old
infantilizing Anna. He asks how she's feeling and she mumbles something about she's feeling better
than she deserves. So repeating that and also mumble. He's apparently bought something and he puts
shopping bag on a chair and then he sits down on the edge of the bed and she gets intoxicated by
the scent of his sweat and body wash and him. She thinks that this heady cocktail is so much
better than a margarita. If she's drinking his body wash and sweat, I'm going to have to put
down this book and cry into a pillow. After you passed out, I didn't want to risk the leather
upholstery in my car taking you all the way to your apartment. So I brought you here. He says
phlegmatically. Odd choice of words. Where do I start with that? So many problems. You didn't
want to risk the leather upholstery in your car. So why did you take her in your car anyway? Why
didn't you call a lot of no a cab for her? Which is something that dude who barely knows a chick
who's passed out should maybe do? Or here's a thought. Here's a thought. Now this is crazy.
But stay with me. Maybe you could have, you know, like carried Anna back into the club and found Kate
or, oh, probably called Kate because I'm sure you have her number after stalking her. You creepy
fuck. Get a hold of Kate and say, hey, so your friend is passed out from alcohol here and then
Kate would be like, I will take care of my friend. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. No.
Instead of doing this, which is the common sense thing to do and also the not do she not creepy
thing to do, he takes her to his suite at the hotel and strips her and puts her in his bed.
Now, if these people were like longtime friends who had seen each other naked several times and
there wasn't already the overtones of creepy controlling, dominating, rapey Christian mcdouchfuck,
then that would be fine. Like, okay, Anna and Jose are longtime friends, but they've never seen
each other naked and Jose did just sexually assault her. So that's like a completely different
thing. But like if they really were like longtime friends who just, you know, were basically bros
and the story was about them discovering, oh, we're not just bros. We kind of like each other.
Sometimes bros are just bros who have sex with each other. That would be an entirely different
thing. And that would be fine. That would be appropriate. That would be, yeah, I just, you
know, put you to bed. Okay, cool. Thanks, dude. Do you have any pizza? Mm, pizza. This though,
this is like super creepy douchey. And there's an extra level of doucheyness with the whole,
I didn't want to risk the leather post three in my car. Like, do you know how fucking easy leather
is to clean? That's why you get leather. It's easy to clean. It's way easier to clean than
actual upholstery. And that's, you know, you have like fake leather, but you know, you're
billionaire Christian, right? So you probably have like real fucking leather. Actually, even fake
leather, I think is easy to clean. I don't know. But we used to have leather couches. You know why?
Because we had big, shaggy, messy dogs. And also, you know,
didn't like just suck up the dog hair like a fucking fabric couch would. So,
so there are a lot of problems with that. And there's a bunch of unnecessary dialogue and
out of blushes. And he gives a slight rise smile. And during this unnecessary dialogue,
she asks him why he didn't rape her while she was sleeping. And he's like, lol, I'm not into
necrophilia, which is supposed to be funny. And Billy is just kind of gross. And he says
the thing about liking his women sentient and receptive. Yeah, sentient. That's a good one.
She ends up apologizing and feeling like she's the bad guy in this whole thing. Because Christian
is a master of user and good at making her feel that way. She makes some comment about how he
didn't need to track her down with his super stalker stuff. And then makes a comment about how
if he hadn't stalked her, then she probably would have been raped by Jose. And, you know,
he thinks that this is a much better option. This is like a rape culture manifesto. He glares at
her with his eyes blazing and she tries to bite her lip, but apparently fails at biting her lip
because it's a very difficult thing for Anna to undertake. How much I've gone through already.
It's ridiculous. She likens his behavior to medieval times, which is actually way more
appropriate than Anna realizes. No further comment. There's a trace of a smile on his lips,
then he asks if she ate and then says she needs to eat. And then there's more unnecessary dialogue
about her being scolded by getting drunk before getting drunk because we all know women aren't
allowed to have any agency. And then he says, you know, if she belonged to him, then after the
stunt she pulled, she wouldn't be able to sit down for a week.
Gentle reminder, they're not yet in a consensual BDSM relationship and they never will be. So
therefore that kind of comment is completely inappropriate and actually a veiled reference
to abuse because she is not consented to being spanked. And if some dude who were courting me
said that to me, I would probably kick him in the nuts or punch him in the face or screaming him
to get the fuck away from me because he basically just threatened to hit me and talked about owning
me like I'm some object. Gross. So gross. In fact, I should have highlighted it yellow and green,
but that's four drinks. So I'm just gonna take a big one. Vodka. They glare and scowl at each
other because this is apparently courtship to them and it has a lot of thoughts about something.
I don't really know what she's thinking. I don't think she knows what she's thinking.
And she thinks if I was his, it would be if I were his. Anyway, well, I'm not. And then blah,
blah, blah. And she flushes at the waywardness of her subconscious. Subconscious. Subconscious,
who is not yet split into the other personality of the inner goddess, is doing her happy dance
in a bright red hula skirt at the thought of being Christians. I have a note here.
What the fuck? Really? Bright red hula skirt? Really? Can I just say I really hate how people
who aren't from Hawaii and who know nothing about Hawaii treat everything they know about
Hawaii. It is colonialism at its fucking worst. Okay, just fucking stop. Your goddamn subconscious
is not dancing around in a bright red hula skirt. Why do you just say bright red skirt?
But no, we have to appropriate ceremonial dances from indigenous peoples. Oh wait, I guess that's
racism. She makes a remark about how she would have been fine if Christian had just left her alone
because Kate was there and Jose was there. And Christian kind of reminds her that, you know,
Jose, actually he doesn't say it. And he just says, and the photographer, he snaps. She says, oh, well,
Jose just got out of line in shrugs. So great apologism. He talks about teaching Jose some
manners and Anna calls him a disciplinarian, hisses at him like a snake or a cat. So now
I'm imagining Anna is some weird hybrid of a dog and a cat. Which is weird. And then he makes some
veiled reference to being, you know, all domly-dom. Or she still has not really said, yeah, I'm into
BDSM or anything. So this is kind of doubly creepy in another way because that kind of BDSM flirting
stuff isn't really cool to do with people who haven't yet made it clear that they're into that.
I mean, this is just something to keep in mind for your life. But, you know, if you're making,
if you're flirting with somebody and you make some comment about being a, you know, like,
supposed to be sexy comment about being dominating and stuff, like they're not necessarily going to
take it as sexy unless you know for a goddamn fact that they're into BDSM, which Christian doesn't at
this point. He's just assuming that because he wants Anna, she will do whatever he wants. And
well, that's true because Anna is spineless and easy to manipulate. And also Christian has a lot
of experience manipulating people. So it's not like this is his first rodeo. But don't do that,
okay? I have done BDSM and I have been into it, but I'm still extremely uncomfortable when people
start flirting with me in that way. Mainly because they assume I'm a sub. That's another thing.
People, please stop assuming all women are subs. And please stop treating subs like they're subhuman.
It's fucked up and it needs to stop. This is the thing Christian Grey does. If it's something
Christian Grey does, you don't want to do it. Have that be like your rule for life as a corollary
that word. C-O-R-L-L-A-R-Y. I can spell it. I can't pronounce it. That to Wheaton's law. Don't
be a dick and don't do anything Christian Grey would do. Okay? All right. She thinks wow at his
smile because it's a smile and that he's just been glaring at her. He makes some comment about
showering and Cox's head to one side like a dog. Oh, that was mean to dogs. Anna says,
my heartbeat has picked up and my medulla oblongata has neglected to fire any synapses to make me
breathe. Anna dies. Hooray! Book over. I can burn it. Oh wait, there's more? You mean she's actually
still breathing? And that was just a really fucking terrible metaphor or analogy. I don't even know
what the fuck it was supposed to be. Well, this vodka ain't gonna drink itself. He caresses her
creepily, tells her to breathe so she can again because she's been commanded to do something
because Anna can never do anything unless she's been commanded to and then makes a comment about
how she must be hungry which I guess fits into the you need to eat and goes to shower. One thing I
gotta say is really pissing me off that she is profiting almost every inner thought like that's
actually in italics with a hmm like HMMM earlier. Hmm, young Jose. The fuck is that? Jose's like the
same age as you. Infantilizing of Jose. I'm wondering if that fits into racism. Yeah, I get it. I want
more vodka. Now she's thinking about how she's attracted to Christian and she has all these
hormones and thinking about like needy and achy and thinks, hmm, desire. Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm.
And then she thinks about how he was the only man who has ever turned her on and I'm sitting here
going, Anna, you're like 21. When I was 21, I was still in my very first relationship. I'd met
plenty of people who made me get the flutteries and monotony bits. I just find it hard to believe
that she's never gotten any sort of flutteries for somebody before. I mean, like even like a
celebrity in a mag or something, you know, even if it's not necessarily sexual flutteries, just
flutteries. The flutteries that you get when you're like, I'm attracted to that person or whatever,
like, you know, not necessarily sexual, but maybe. Unless they're trying to portray her,
I guess, as demisexual, but I don't want to give James that much credit. I'm sorry. I can't give
James that much credit. So she thinks about how he's complicated and says, one minute he rebuffs
me, the next he sends me $14,000 books, then he tracks me like a stalker. And for all that,
I have spent the night in his hotel suite and I feel safe, protected. The web of manipulation
and gaslighting and abuse has been spun. Watch the fly struggle in its trap. Then she says that he
cares to rescue her from mistakenly perceived danger. Rape Apology compares him to a classic
romantic hero. So she gets out of bed and looks for jeans. Just as Christian comes out of the
shower wrapped in a towel and she thinks about how she's all awkward and bare legs and blah,
blah, blah. And he says that he sent her jeans to the laundry because they were spattered with
her vomit. And he glares at her and she flushes and wonders why he always catches her off balance.
Well, Anna, it's because he's used to, you know, I've just like, I'm a broken record at this point.
He's a manipulator. This is not his first rodeo. This is why this is not romance. This is him
manipulating you and spinning you in his web. You know, I'm aligning spiders for this. Poor
spiders. They eat bugs. At least they're productive and have a purpose in this world. I mean,
I may hate them because they're too many legs, but I'd rather date a spider than Christian Gray.
I'm just saying. He mentions the bag on the chair that he brought in earlier is clean clothes for her
and she thinks clean clothes. Like, yeah, that's what he just fucking said, Anna. Clean clothes.
A door. A wall. She mutters that she'll have a shower, goes to the bathroom with the bag of clothing
and thinks that naked Christian is more handsome than Michelangelo's David. Well, you can see naked.
Christian isn't actually naked. He's just wearing a towel that likely hangs from his hips in that
way. So she gets in the shower and thinks about how much she wants Christian to fuck her, but,
you know, not using that word because Anna's too ladylike to refer to sex as what it is,
realize that he's probably not celibate because he said he likes his women sentient.
And then notes that Christian hasn't made a pass at her unlike Paul or Jose. More
rape apologism. There's a lot of that in this chapter. Then she gets all emo about whether or
not he wants her or not. Then her subconscious has reared her ugly snide head when earlier
she was doing a happy dance in a red hula skirt and makes some comment about how obviously he
couldn't want Anna because, you know, he didn't rape her when she was sleeping in his bed. That's
a sign that a guy doesn't like you, that he doesn't rape you yet. Side note, there is rape in this
book. Christian does rape Anna. It happens later. I'm just warning you up front. You're gonna continue
watching me get drunk while I read this book and cry into my vodka. There is rape. It does happen.
So there's really no way you can be like, well, comparatively, I guess Christian isn't that bad
because well, Jose did actually assault Anna. At least Christian rescued her and then and didn't do
anything. No, he just waits until they're in a relationship to do it. Okay, because then, you
know, she's his and he can do whatever he wants to his property. So then Anna is still in still in
the shower, by the way, longer shower ever. And thanks again about how she could stay in this
bathroom forever and uses his body wash and then like rubs it all over herself and fantasizes about
him rubbing her and thinks, oh my. Oh my. Basically, he is just about to really get into the masturbation
and then he knocks on the door and tells her breakfast is there and she's yanked cruelly out
of her erotic daydream. Your problems are so big, Anna. Why couldn't she just go,
give me a minute, I'm jerking it. Is there a shower head in there? God, I hope there is. And
then she tries to ignore the pleasurable feel of towels rubbing on her over sensitized skin.
I have legit never been that horny, but okay. So she inspects the bag of clothing to discover
that not only has Christian bought her new clothing, he's bought her new underwear. She thinks, oh my.
And then she describes the underwear and then thinks, wow, I am in awe and slightly daunted by
this underwear. From today's files of Anna wanders through the world, getting confused by furniture
and views and clothing. I cannot breathe for the underwear. It's just so fine and blue and lacy.
The underwear fits perfectly, which makes me hate Anna a little bit more because, you know,
some security guy for this dude who's stalking her can go out and buy her perfectly fitting
underwear just by guessing her size. And it takes me like a week in a store to find underwear that
fits me or I have to order it online. Fashion industry, I'm looking at you. Make more fat
bitch stuff. Come on. So then she thinks about Taylor. She thinks about him buying laundry for her
and flushes. Like it just says, I flush to think of buzz cut. So she could literally be
flushing the toilet in order to jog her mind to think about it because she is in the bathroom. So
or more likely she's just blushing and his user flush again because why use a word that makes sense
when you can use a word from the Tsarist, right? She gets dressed and bitches about her hair and
goes out to face Mr. Confusing. It's literally what she calls him. She goes through the bedroom,
which is MTE, searches for her purse, doesn't find it, goes out to the living room of the suite,
notices that it's furnished with a lot of crap, including a latest generation iMac. Anna, the
girl who doesn't own a computer, can recognize the latest generation iMac. I call bullshit. Christian
is a dining table and yeah, okay. It says that he's sitting at a dining table on the other side
of the room reading a newspaper. And then it says, it's the size of a tennis court or something,
not that I play tennis, though I have watched Kate a few times and then immediately he remembers,
oh my god, I had a friend who's probably fucking worried about me. But the thing is,
is that it's actually referring to the newspaper. So Christian is apparently reading a newspaper
the size of a tennis court. That's a feat. I'm actually impressed by that. Hats off to you,
Christian, for being able to hold a newspaper that big. Also a tennis court or something,
not that I play tennis. Wow, writing. She says crap, Kate, and Christian says that, you know,
he already let Kate know while he texted Elliot, who was with Kate. So no need to tell the actual
info, just make sure the men can control them. And she thinks, oh no, and does a bit of slut
shaming about Elliot, slut shaming about Kate dancing with Elliot. So that's nice. Christian
commands her to sit at a table that is leading with food because he says, you know, I ordered a
selection from the breakfast menu and gives her a crooked apologetic smile. So that's like four
drinks, right? No, like five drinks, five, five drinks, because she sluts Shane's Kate a bunch.
So I have eight more pages to go. This book, man, this fucking book, she then says, I can't
actually even pronounce this word. She says, it's very profligate, profligate, profligate of you,
profligate. I don't even know what that word means. This book is such an interesting contradiction
because most of the writing is below substandard. It's just terrible. But then there are like these
$5 words just shook in like salt and pepper liberally. And you've got these these terribly
structured sentences and a complete lack of plot or any characterization and just in general,
just really bad writing. And then you have these like $5 words, you have to look up in order to
understand the fuck the character just said because she used a word that what he uses, especially
like not college age Americans. I'm not even the English majors. I'm sorry. Actually, I'm going
to look that up because I don't know what it means and it's driving me nuts. Okay, so apparently
profligate, profligate means carelessly and foolishly wasting money, materials, etc. Very
wasteful. So she basically just insulted him for ordering her breakfast. That's super classy, Anna.
Seriously, was she raised with like no manners at all? I would honestly, okay, no, I would be this
rude to Christian because he's a creepy mcdouchfuck. But to somebody who was actually being nice to me,
I would not be this rude. And I am a rude person. So she murmurs this. Did I drink already? I don't
know if I did. And, you know, is bewildered by the fact that he got her a bunch of food. But,
you know, then it bits while she is hungry. So you just insulted the dude, you got you a bunch of
food and you're hungry. And then he like acts guilty about it. Like, like he's guilty about
ordering her a bunch of food, but not about being creepy and soggy. Right. She gets a bunch of
food and he gives her tea and remembers how she likes it. And she thinks, geez,
he scolds her for having damp hair because Christian doesn't know how showers work.
Or that having longer hair means, yeah, it's gonna stay damp for a little bit longer.
You have the fuck brain? Then she mutters that she couldn't find the hairdryer and she's embarrassed
about this. So then Christian gets all pissy about this and his mouth presses into a hard line. I can't
even, like, why are you pissed that she didn't find a hairdryer? What? This guy gets angry about
the weirdest things. And hello, another fucking red flag of abuse. Feeling like you have to walk
on eggshells because you never know what's gonna set him off. Literally, couldn't find a hairdryer.
That sets him off. She thanks him for the clothes and he says that that color suits her and she
blushes. How the fuck did she get through her first 21 years? I do not know. He castigates her
and says, you know, she needs to learn how to take a compliment. I'm out of vodka. Actually,
it's iced tea in vodka. So it's sort of like a Long Island iced tea, except I don't actually
know what's in that, except that there's iced tea and alcohol. So I could be totally wrong. Oh,
I think I added too much. Ha! No such thing as too much. She says the thing about needing to have,
should probably pay him back for the clothing and he glares at her. There's some unnecessary
dialogue where she asks why he would buy clothing for her and he says because he can and then his
eyes flash with a wicked gleam. Then she suddenly realizes that he's talking about sex because
they're always talking about sex. That's all they fucking do and asks why he sent her the $14,000
books. He's trying to say he loves you. He puts on his coffee and she notices that his eyes are like
full of some emotion and so her mouth dried. Well, when you were nearly run over by the
cyclist and I was holding you and you were looking up at me all, kiss me, kiss me Christian. He pauses
in shrugs. I felt I owed you an apology and a warning. My note beside this is just what? All
in capitals. Because if you recall, she thinks kiss me, but she doesn't actually say it. So
either Christian really is able to hear her thoughts or he just assumes that any woman who
comes into contact with him is like, kiss me, take me. Oh my god, Christian, you're so amazing,
which, you know, because he's likely a narcissistic sociopath, abusive douchefuck, probably does.
But I mean, she never actually said that. He's just assuming and she doesn't deny it at all,
which like Machiavelli 101. He does this whole spiel about how she should stay away and she's
all upset and there's fucking unnecessary dialogue and she breathes words instead of saying them.
He says he's not celibate and she flushes. And there's a bunch more unnecessary dialogue about
what she's doing today, which is working for midday. Oh man, that is so fucking exciting,
you guys, you have no idea. And then oh, and she and Kate are packing because they're moving to
Seattle and that's also really super exciting. He asks what she's going to do for work in Seattle
and she says she's applied for some internships and he asks that she's applied to his company and
she flushes and he asks what's wrong with his company and she makes him quit about his company
or his company because that's fucking, she's, she's, she's, at their finest and smirks,
which is bad writing. It's incorrect. And he asks if she's smirking at him and she flushes. He
whispers darkly, which is a lot like Edward Cullen chuckling darkly, that he'd like to
bite her lip, which is creepy and weird. And she gasps and realizes that she's chewing her bottom
lip. He thinks that it has to be the sexiest thing anybody has ever said to her, which makes
me just really feel really sad for Hannah. And thanks G's. Oh, and there's more boring flirting
and he says he's not going to touch her until he has her written consent note though,
once he has that written consent. That means that's consent for forever and she can never revoke it
in his mind. So then he says he needs to tell her something tonight after they go out for dinner
or whatever. And she's like, why don't you just fucking tell me now? And he's like, well, because
it's going to ruin breakfast tonight, you'll never want to see me again. So dark and twisty, dark,
dark ass. She wonders, does he white slave small children to some God forsaken part of the planet?
Hello, racism. It's not white slave. It's just fucking slavery. Okay, it's slavery no matter who
it happens to. It's not like slavery is default people of color. And then there's like a special
category of slavery for white people. If you're selling children to some God forsaken part of
the planet, i.e. anywhere not England, I mean America. This is totally set in America guys.
It's totally set in America. And very obviously American. She flushes while she's thinking about
all the possibilities. And then her subconscious yells at her. There's more smirking. Jesus.
She listens to him have a one sided phone conversation, which let me tell you, never gets old.
And thinks thoughts with exclamation points after everything that Christian says like,
Taylor, I'm going to need Charlie Tango. Charlie Tango? Who's he? From Portland at say 2030. No,
stand by it, escalate all night. All night? Yes, on call tomorrow morning. I'll pilot from Portland
to Seattle. Pilot? She notices that when he hangs up the phone, he doesn't say please or thank you
and has no manners. Ironic. Coming from the rudest person on the planet and a stage of
Rome's steel. God, that name is the worst erection pun. And she asks him if people always do what
he tells him to do. And he says, usually if they want to keep their jobs, Christian being a controlling
dickwad. She asks, what about people who don't work for you? And he says he can be very persuasive.
More controlling dickwadishness. He then mentions that they're going to fly to Seattle. And she
blinks at him rapidly. Like she forgot how to blink properly, which knowing Anna, she probably did.
And then he tells her that he has a helicopter and she gapes at him and thinks, wow. My liver is
screaming. She asks him why they're using helicopter to go to Seattle. And he's just like, because I
can. Controlling and dickish. And he also grins wickedly and says finish your breakfast. So
more drinks for ketchup. And then he tells her to eat again more sharply. So controlling a dickish,
telling her to eat. Oh God, please don't there be no more. She gapes at the food. He's controlling
a dickish some more about what's on the plate and shames her for not eating properly the day before.
Dude, big fat dickface Christian is being a dickface and commanding her to eat a whole bunch.
Because this book is eating disorder trigger city. I'm too excited to eat Christian. Don't you
understand? My subconscious explains. She can't say this out loud because that would require
using her mouth. She's too much of a coward thinks he looks selling like a small boy. So
how many drinks is that three? Three. She eats her pancake and he calls her a good girl because
she's his pet or object or this are too much vodka's. So then there's this really terrible part.
He tells her to go dry her hair because can't have her getting ill because you know, an ill woman
worthless woman. I learned that lesson early on. And then she asks him where he slept last night.
He says in his bed, which means not only did he take her back to his suite and strip her when she
was drunk, passed out unconscious. He then slept next to her. There is no situation in which this
is okay. You know, unless there's like prior verbal consent to you sharing the bed with somebody.
I have issues about sharing beds with people and I would flip the fuck out. But Anna's just like,
oh, and we didn't have sex. And she's so impressed that she said the word because she probably shouldn't
be having it yet. And she blushes. Then he says that this is a new thing for him sleeping with
people and she's all confused because that that means he's a virgin. And this is why I really
hate euphemisms for having sex. Okay, you have sex, you have sex, you fucked, you boned, you made
love, whatever. But sleeping with people just means sleeping with people. I sleep with my hubs
every night. It does not mean we have sex every night because they're two different things. Blarg,
blarg, blarg. She dries her hair, which is incredibly boring. And then she decides to brush her teeth,
Christian's toothbrush, because it would be like having him in my mouth. Pro tip, Anna. He doesn't
use the toothbrush on his penis. Or if he does, this is a book I just don't want to read anymore.
That would just be painful. I mean, those bristles are sharp. Penis is sensitive. But yeah, that's
also highlighted yellow. And she says, I feel so naughty. It's such a thrill. Seriously disgusting.
Don't use somebody else's toothbrush unless you share fucking DNA with them, okay? If I were camping
and I'd forgotten my toothbrush, somebody was like, here, use mine. I would be like, no thanks. And I
would brush my teeth with a pine cone or like a branch or something leaves. There's something in
nature that would work. But like, yeah, no, I'm enough of a germaphobe to find this indescribably
gross. She gets all dressed up, but she goes out and Christian is on his blackberry and there's
another one-sided phone conversation, which oh my god, these things, they happen so often.
And then they leave or something or no, they go to leave and he murmurs something,
calls her misteal. And she thinks more questions about why me, you know,
he's interesting and I want to fuck him. And she peeks up at him through his lashes. You can't
do that. Like, you physically can't like... They go into the elevator. She bites her lip. He says,
oh fuck the paperwork, which is just confusing at this point. And then presses her up against the
wall of the elevator and kisses her. And she thinks holy shit and says things like he takes full
advantage. And I have never been kissed like this. And it's like, you've never been kissed, Anna,
or you've been kissed like once or something. She can feel his erection against her belly,
but later she can't say the word vagina. Let that sink in. And she thinks, oh my, and oh my god,
he wants me, he's a Greek god and he wants me. Oh, Greek god, is that anything like,
oh, what were they always calling Edward Cullen? Oh right, Donis, I wonder if there's any relation.
You are so sweet, he murmurs, each word is staccato.
So then the elevator stops at another floor and he like pushes away from her and some businessmen
get in and they smirk at them because they know what they were doing. Because you know, when you
walk into an elevator and there are two people standing there, you just assume they've been
fucking or kissing or whatever, right? Isn't everybody this like normal? No? Okay, she thinks
her heart rate is through the roof and she feels like she's run an uphill race. She wants to lean
over and grasp her knees, but she doesn't say she wants to do that to breathe better. So it
could also be taken sexually. Anyway, that's too obvious. If your heart is beating that fast
ever a kiss, you might want to see a doctor. She notices that he looks super cool and calm. Then
she notices that he gently blows out a deep breath and so, oh, he must be actually affected. And
my very small inner goddess sways in a gentle, victorious samba. First appearance of the inner
goddess, more booze for Katcha, actually same amount of booze for Katcha because now we just
have the same amount of it. Actually, no, there's more inner goddess. More booze for Katcha.
After the businessman exit the elevator on a different floor, they keep traveling.
He notices that she's brushed her teeth and she tells him that she uses toothbrush at which point
if I were Christian, I'd be like, instead he just says, what am I going to do with you?
And then he pulls her out of the elevator and mutter and then I'm just going to read you the
last paragraph of the chapter. What is it about elevators he mutters more to himself than to
me as he strides across the lobby? I struggled to keep up with him because my wits have been
thoroughly and royally scattered all over the floor and walls of elevator three in the Heathman
Hotel. If only to her brains that had been thoroughly and royally scattered all over the
floor and walls of elevator three in the Heathman Hotel. So that's chapter five. It's terrible.
Basically, like, just more nothing happens. I tried to drink from others. Last drink.
So much vodka. I don't know if you guys have heard about Patreon. It's this sort of like
ongoing crowdfunding for ongoing creative projects. Basically, you can give money to me.
You can give money to creators if you like what they create. Seems to work really well for like
webcomic artists, people who create serial things, right? I was thinking about using it for my writing,
but I don't really do serial writing things. I could ask people to fund me on a monthly basis
that they like my writing because it would give me more time to write, obviously. But so in the
meantime, I just decided to use my page for 50 Shades of Drinking for however long this runs.
So if you really like this series and you want to help me offset the costs of alcohol and trips
to the hospital for alcohol poisoning, I'm joking about that last part mostly, then you can go to
my Patreon page and you can pledge to give like a dollar per episode. Let's see. There are 26
chapters in this book. Actually, I don't know if I'm gonna be doing the next two books. I want to,
but it also depends on how defeated and demoralized and serotic I am at the end of this book. So
we'll see how it goes, but you might only end up spending 26 bucks if you've pledged one dollar per
episode. Actually, at this point, it'll be way less because I've already done chapters one through
five. So I will give you perks for things, but I haven't really figured out what to give. So if
you have ideas for things you'd like that are feasible for me, as in they don't require like
physical objects being mailed to you and shipping and handling because that's just really not
feasible for me, then you can let me know by like email or comments, I guess, or Google Plus or
Twitter or Patreon. I don't know if there's a messaging thing on Patreon there might be. So
if you like this and you have the money and you know, like there's no pressure to do this,
just sort of think of it as like an online tip jar, like you're tipping me to keep me doing this.
If I do get a certain amount of money per finished episode, then I will start posting them more often
because then I'll actually be making enough money from them to justify spending that much time away
from my job to do it and also drinking through my husband's alcohol stash. We never drink, so we just
have like a huge alcohol stash because people give us booze or we buy it for events and we drink like
a little bit of it and then like we just have this bottle just sitting around. So though when my
wisdom teeth were coming and I did go through a lot of whiskey, not because I wanted to be drunk,
but because whiskey was actually numbing the pain better than any painkillers, so that happened.
But generally speaking, we just don't drink, like this is the most drinking I do. So if you want
me to drink more and be mildly funny but mostly depressed about this wonderful series, you can
pledge at Patreon and I'd really appreciate it and you will be in my heart forever or at least
as long as I forget, which is like a month. So that's huge. So hopefully chapter six will be
sometime soonish and maybe it'll even be cleaner back here when it happens. I doubt it. I hope you
enjoyed this episode and I will see you again soon. Bye!
