The Thing Speaks for Whatever

50 Shades of Grey: The Internet is Hard, like Your Dad

In Back Door Book Club B!tches 4: Back in the Saddle, Because fuck you exploiters. Fuck you., Docta K, I Chat Therefore I Am, Katie, We's ravin'!, Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot. on February 6, 2013 at 6:33 pm

Previously on BDBCB4:BS, we almost ate pancakes.  So, I got sick for awhile and forgot that I’d never posted this, what is probably the last of the Fifty Shades posts.  (This is to say nothing of RIEtc.’s long, long absence.  Yeah, yeah, yeah, I suck.)  I say the last because it’s months later and we really don’t care anymore, and besides, we of BDBCB4:BS would like to spend our limited interaction time – now more limited than ever – on something that will not make us quite so, in a word, stabby.  So Book Club is not dead, honest!, but I think Fifty Shades is dead to us, thankfully.  So enjoy this blast from our collective literary past – which totally collapses into a ball of flaming 50 Shade post inside jokes – and take a sec to vote on the future.  No seriously, like, right now (don’t worry, you can pick more than one thing):

Katie: Hi!

Docta K: HI!

Katie: Rooks tried to make a chat, but she failed – she might still be getting a drink? If so, SHE HAS BEEN TAKING A LONG FUCKING TIME, THAT BITCH. But I guess it’s okay, because my iPad just now turned on after being dead. Dead like I want Ana Seal to be.

And you thought I was the diamond-hearted spade.

And you thought I was the diamond-hearted spade.

Docta K: ANA SEAL – such a loser! Maybe Rooks is shunning us because I am ten minutes late, though I would like to say, in my defense, that the Starbucks here in Key Largo does not have the fastest wifi. So I was actually ready, latte in hand, on time. Anyway, guess what I have been doing this week?!


Docta K: ALMOST! I have been scuba diving all week and am now officially a rescue diver!  HOW COOL IS THAT?!

Katie: WOAK! Umm, that’s like “woah,” if your cat is trying to take the pudding out of your hand while you type one-handed. Anyway, that is awesome; you should get yourself the shark sex book to celebrate.  Oooh, maybe we should book club the shark sex book!

Docta K: Oh man, I really want to read the shark sex book – do we know what it is called?

Katie: Demon Fish: Travels through the Hidden World of Sharks, by Juliet Eilperin.

Docta K: I feel like knowledge of shark sex would be a super positive addition to my life.

Katie: “‘Many scientists don’t like to talk about shark sex,’ Juliet Eilperin writes in her entertaining study of sharks and their world. ‘They worry it will only reinforce the popular perception that these creatures are brutish and unrelenting.’ In as far as we understand the subject – only a few species have been observed mating – the business is ‘very rough’. Larger male sharks have to bite or trap the females to keep them around during courtship; marine biologists can tell when a female has been mating because her skin will be raw or bleeding. The process is so violent that, come the mating season, female nurse sharks will stay in shallow water with their reproductive openings pressed firmly to the sea floor. Otherwise they risk falling prey to roaming bands of males who ‘will take turns inserting their claspers in her’ (the clasper is the shark version of a penis, found in a pair behind the pelvic fins). A litter of fifty pups will have anything from two to seven fathers. But the reproductive story gets rougher still. A number of shark species go in for oophagy, or uterine cannibalism. Sand tiger foetuses ‘eat each other in utero, acting out the harshest form of sibling rivalry imaginable’. Only two babies emerge, one from each of the mother shark’s uteruses: the survivors have eaten everything else. ‘A female sand tiger gives birth to a baby that’s already a metre long and an experienced killer,’ explains Demian Chapman, an expert on the subject.”

Rooks: What the hell did I just figuratively walk into?

Katie: What the fuck kind of drink takes 14 minutes, missy?

Rooks: Well, I had to go gather the boozes and I’d never made it before –


Rooks: – and I needed to rinse my shaker, which had been in the dishwasher.

Docta K: You know, after getting called out on the capslock, I am just NOT CARING at all. Plus that’s really how I talk in real life.

Katie: ME TOO.  (Jasper it trying to facetime with bitches from my iPad. Sorry.)

Docta K: So I feel like it adds ridiculousity verisimilitude.

Rooks: Is this because you don’t care how much longer it takes me to reduce the capslock in edit to something that doesn’t make people feel like you’re both yelling at them constantly, you selfish bitches?

Docta K: I don’t! I don’t care! It’s true! That is white privilege for you! Also: I do not have to do the editing SO I AM LAZY – THERE IS SOME MORE WHITE PRIVILEGE FOR YOU.

Rooks: Um, you’re not white.

Docta K: Please do not tell people that; I have been skating along on the assumption that I am white for years.

Rooks: I’m pretty sure you already dropped that knowledge approximately three posts ago.

Docta K: Do you know how many more tickets I would have to pay if they knew I was not white? Although! You should see this tan I have!

Katie: I am white. But I don’t get tickets to pay because as a white person, I am perfect.  That being said, YOU SHOULD SEE MY TAN. And by “tan,” I mean “transparent white skin.”

Docta K: Ooooh, you are such a good white person. You know who else is a good white person? Christian Grey, Ana Seal, and everybody in this book except the rapey friend.

Katie: He is totes conveniently brown.

Docta K: Duh! I mean, do you have rapey friends who aren’t brown? Of course you don’t.

Knapsack Highlights: See if you can spot the criminal!

Invisible Knapsack Highlights: See if you can spot the criminal!

Rooks: Did Docta K just disappear? Do you think someone at Starbucks realized she wasn’t white and made a citizen’s arrest?

Katie: I invited her back – I think she’s here again?

Docta K: I am! Ladies, I am super sorry – this is lame – but I want to emphasize that it is a bad on the part of Starbucks and not me. I am sitting here doing my thing, and their internet is all, “NOPE I REALLY LIKED FIFTY SHADES OF GREY, DISCONNECT.”

Rooks: Well ok, so if we’re gonna do this, we should probably get while there is yet internet to sustain you.  Since we’re trying to zoom through the rest of this book, how’re we gonna do this?

Docta K: I liked Katie’s idea of themes, although I do feel like we should at least attempt to go chronologically?

Rooks: I like themes, but she suggested WTF as a theme.

Katie: Yeah, in retrospect, the entire book is WTF.

Rooks:  Right.  I mean, maybe we should just go by chapters? Is that bad?

Docta K: No, that makes sense.  But maybe let’s do the highlight reel?

Rooks: Good plan.  Katie, how much time do we have before you ditch us to chat with your boyfriend?

Katie: Good question!  He hasn’t talked to me all day, so I’m probably going to have to CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP.

Docta K: No! No crying! You’re still pretty!


Docta K: EVEN THOUGH! Your skin is super white so it’s ok – shiny like marble!

Rooks: Hard like Steele?

Docta K: Hahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Rooks: Yet velvety, like a super-sized Grey penis?

Katie: Exactly. Okay, let’s get on task, bitches; don’t make me get the crop or whatever.

Docta K: Don’t make me get the SEQUEL.

Chapter 10: In which Mommy Dearest meets Ana and is probably not as disappointed in her son’s taste as she should be, and some additional boring shit happens, we think.

Katie: Ooof, it’s been awhile, kittens.

Docta K: Let’s see . . . phone call with rapey José, check.

Rooks: Christian threw a condom in the trash!  Threw it! My sense of physics says ewww!

Don't fuck with gravity.

Don’t fuck with gravity.

Katie: Christian also has hair! It’s so pretty! Guys, if there’s one thing Ana hates, it’s not wearing clean panties. So she’s super naughty and wears his man-panties.

Rooks: It’s like the toothbrush thing.  Also, God forbid she go commando.

Docta K: Car ride! Restaurant! Now that I go back through it, I realize that this chapter does a lot of work that has already been done. Like, literally the only new things that happen are the introduction of mom and some info about Christian’s sexual past – everything else we already knew.

Rooks: Well, in this chapter Ana does apparently realize that being tied down is actually potentially sexy, as opposed to the sign of a freak monster brain malfunction of the soul.

Katie: The thing that I hate most about this chapter, I think, is how her subconscious calls her a ho. Isn’t this the same subconscious that’s all OOOH SEXY, or does just her inner goddess do that?

Docta K: Unclear. Maybe one is sex-positive and one is a slut-shamer? That would be confusing!

Rooks: Well, the goddess is the dancer; we know that at least. I think the subconscious is the shamer. Although I’m torn on the subconscious – occasionally it’s the only rational voice in the room.

Katie: Do you think that the subconscious ever calls the goddess a slutty ho-bag?

Me: Probably? That’s the one who’s always telling Ana what a waste of carbon she is, so I can only imagine the kind of expletive-laden diatribes that would be prompted by being cooped up in the same brain as the inner goddess.  Hey, did we also learn the fact that Christian has tiny legs – how are his boxer briefs “tight” on her if she’s all petite and shit?

Docta K: Speaking as a lady who wears boxer briefs, that is a legit concern. I have thews of steel or whatever and men’s boxer briefs are tight on me. I will tell you this – boxer briefs are hella comfortable, hence why I wear them to bed.  Now that I’m thinking about it though, I wear a men’s small.

Rooks: Right.  Like I also have been known to enjoy the occasional foray into boxer briefs, and I am, in the parlance of my people, thick.

Docta K: And, from the descriptions, you’d think Christian Grey is probably, what, at least a medium? So they would have to be huge on purportedly tiny Ana Seal. She’s supposed to be thin, right?

Rooks: Yeah, Ana is desperately out of shape or something, but generally described as small, if I recall correctly.

Docta K: Right – small, but can’t go up a flight of stairs without gasping or something.

Katie: Yeah, she’s supposed to be all tiny.  That’s how we know she’s actually pretty, even though she says she’s ugly.

Rooks: So I ask again, and not in a body policing way, but does Christian have birdlegs, or is this author just a maroon?

Do I even have to ask?

Do I even have to ask?

Docta K: Maybe both!

Katie: Probably!

Docta K: Maybe his package just looks huge in comparison to his twig like legs.

Katie: You guys. We know that he’s sensitive because he plays the music of the night and he ships stuff to Darfur.

Docta K: Unless it’s North Korean arms. I bet Christian Grey is actually an arms dealer.

Katie: I hope he is.

Docta K: That would explain the helicopter and a lot of the tactical shit. It would actually make him a lot more interesting.


Docta K: OH MAN I WOULD READ THAT.  The Seal Ultimatum. The Grey Agenda.

Rooks: :::snort:::

Katie: Ladiez, I think it is time for us to write 50 Shades of Gray anti-fan fiction.

Docta K: Hahahaha – In a world gone mad…

Rooks: That is an amazing idea.

Docta K: Meet Christian Grey, an international arms dealer who deals with the harshest warlords and the deadliest armies in the world. But is he ready to confront the biggest danger…his own heart?

Rooks: [BUZZER NOISE] I’m sorry, that’s insufficiently anti.

Docta K: Not done! Meet Ana Seal, the only woman to ever come out of the Navy’s elite special forces program.

Katie: (With a degree in Shit-Lit.)

Docta K: Her mission: to hunt down Christian Grey and bring him to justice.

Rooks: I wanna do one!  Umm . . . Christan Grey is overlord of a death arena that makes Mad Max look candy ass, while Ana Seal has been sent to end his stranglehold on the region’s pancake supply. After soldiering her way through sharks, mothers, and other lethal fighting machines, she faces the man himself in a duel to the death. Two go in, but only one comes . . . and comes out.

Docta K: That’s pretty good.  What about this? Ana Seal is a highly trained shark with only one thing on her mind: eating the crunchy, crunchy froglegs of captain of industry Christian Grey.

Rooks: Oooooh.

Katie: How about this: CHRISTIAN GREY is an Arctic explorer out to collect seal pelts for his fancy mansion. LITTLE DOES HE KNOW that an evil witch has turned his beloved, Ana Seal, into A REAL SEAL. He clubs her to death, but right after he strikes the killing blow recognizes something in her eyes and realizes he’s murdered his one true love (though he can’t for the life of her remember why he loved her). Then, a fucking polar bear comes along and eats his face off, but spits out his disgusting coppery hair, where it glints in the snow, blinding pilots carrying supplies to war-torn regions. The planes crash, and the polar bears have ALL THE GUNS THAT WERE SECRETLY BEING SMUGGLED and they take over the world. The end.

Rooks: Docta K, that is amazing.

Docta K: I like that a lot! Christian Grey is Nanook of the North. Ana Seal is a seal.  No, no, no – the polar bear apocalypse one is Katie’s, not mine!

Rooks: Oh, fuck.


Rooks: One of y’all needs a new damn name.

Katie: Maybe you’re the one who needs a new damn name.

Rooks: What, like Katie?

Docta K: Precisely.

Rooks: Whatevsies, I’m Veronica.  Deal with it. Also, you guys! There’s official confirmation that Ana just somehow forgot that he’s conferring her degree at graduation!

Katie: Ana Seal is fucking stupid.

Rooks: Also, um, y’all? Chapter 10 does actually do something else.

Docta K: What?

Rooks: It confirms that Ana doesn’t know how to use the internet.

This, Jen, is the Internet.

“This, Jen, is the Internet.” (Click the image to watch the whole scene, which is amazing.)

Docta K: Which, if she is living with K. Lois Lane, is weird.

Rooks: “’This is the contract. Read it, and we’ll discuss it next weekend. May I suggest you do some research, so you know what’s involved.’ [ . . . ] ‘Research?’ ‘You’ll be amazed what you can find on the internet,’ he murmurs. Internet! I don’t have access to a computer, only Kate’s laptop, and I couldn’t use Clayton’s [ed. note: Her workplace is a hardware store called Clayton’s] not for this sort of ‘research’ surely?”

Docta K: Okay, so I work with this girl who’s incredibly stupid – like, Ana Seal levels of stupid – and the other day, I was explaining to her how she needed to run some numbers to figure out a certain thing we needed to know about why a thing was happening. She was like, well, I just KNOW it’s this. And I was like, no, (work) Ana Seal, you have to ask the same set of questions for all the evidence, or your results aren’t valid. So then she was like, huff, I KNOW. Literally ten minutes later, she was explaining the results to a coworker (who had heard this whole conversation), and the coworker was all, “Well, how do you know?” And (work) Ana Seal goes, “Well, I did the research,” which in this case clearly means, I thought the thoughts I already was thinking and called it research. So now, at work, everybody is calling it ’research’ when you think of something and declare it true. I feel like (book) Ana Seal is in this boat.

Katie: Hahaha- that’s amazing.

Rooks: It is.

Katie: Oh, also in Chapter 10 he also totally disregards her desire for caffeine and pushes wine on her.

Docta K: He does.

Rooks: He’s still a feeder, as well.


Rooks: And his introduction to Biblical Knowledge was so sordid! Geek out alert: Given his age, in most states, he was statutorily raped, unless the rape laws were, at the time, gender specific or his state of origin was a particularly late adopter, since most states went gender neutral in like, the Seventies.  I don’t know if anyone was that late of an adopter, especially if he’s only 27 when this book was published in 2011 – that means he was born in, what, ’84/‘85? He would be 16 at roughly the turn of the millennium so . . . yeah.  My copies of Jailbait and Harmful to Minors are in storage, but I just managed to look it up in the former, and it turns out that Washington’s age of consent was 18 in 1920 and 16 by 1999 so . . . no, just no.  (Probably.)

Docta K: Gender specific rape laws are colossally idiotic.

Katie: Guys, I really don’t understand why Christian would be shocked that she put on his boxer briefs. I mean, I guess since he’s so super controlling it would be weird, but I don’t know that it’s something to make her “sashay into the house, part of [her] wanting to jump and punch the air. YES! [Her] inner goddess is thrilled.”

Rooks: Her inner goddess is on uppers.  Case closed. So in summation, Chapter 10 . . .

Katie: Ana meets mom, talks to Jose, drives to Portland, gets force fed alcohol and venison, blahblahblah, “Do I really want to know the extent of Christian’s depravity?” HER HEART WANTS TO KNOW. END SCENE.

Rooks: Am I going to get yelled at if I make another drink?  I dunno about the person who gave me this recipe, but I made a double and it was tiny.  It’s like in The Thin Man where Nick ‘n’ Nora have like twelve martinis per sitting in what appear to be somewhat miniaturized coupe glasses.  A double of this recipe (forthcoming, forthcoming, I swear, I swear! It finally has a name!) might fit in one of those.

Docta K: Go make a drink, because ugh, Chapter 11.  This is stupid.

Rooks: Should that be my heading?

Chapters 11 & 12: This is stupid, or, Ana reads The Contract, is distressed, and yet still flirts with Christian Grey over AOL, after which she goes for a run and is somehow surprised when he turns up on her doorstep like the stalker he is, gets sexed up, and then they email some more. In short, in which we still don’t care.

Katie: Oh hey, then Kate tells Ana about how she was sexually assaulted, but you know, whatever. “He was rough. I wasn’t ready. We were both drunk.” I can’t even.  Also, yellow and red are stupid safewords.

Rooks: I mean, they’re fine, but they’ve always struck me as party safewords.  Like you’re at an event, let’s just have some generic language that everyone can recognize in any given scene. Zero personality safewords.

Katie: Oh look, a free MacBook Pro – that’s a sweet perk for the stalking.  Okay. Okay you guys. “I have an email address?” YOU ARE IN COLLEGE. IF NOTHING ELSE, YOUR COLLEGE GAVE YOU EMAIL.

Docta K: See, this is how we know Ana Seal is a great student! She never uses the internet and she never checks email, therefore she is in the library reading Thomas Hardy all the time. She has never had to research a paper on the internet instead of doing it properly, ergo she does not know how. She is like a time traveler, rather unlike Kate “internet porn crashed my last six laptops” Lois Lane.

Katie: Ana also doesn’t know about Wikipedia, it would seem. “I sit staring at the screen, and part of me, a very moist and integral part of me — that I’ve only become acquainted with very recently, is seriously turned on.” 1. That sentence is a hot mess of punctuation. 2. Moist? Really?

Docta K: Her pancreas? It is both moist and integral –

Rooks: Definitely.  :::abandons cheap math jokes for ongoing drink mixing:::

Katie: Christian Grey is such a pancreas-fucker.

Docta K: – and it is turned on because it is producing insulin. Good job, pancreas! Way to help maintain normal metabolic processes!

I’m bringing insulin (Yeah!), them other organs don’t know where it’s been (Yeah!).

Katie: Why are her never-used sneakers nasty? If she never uses them…

Docta K: Yes, it makes no sense.

Katie: Also, she has an iPod, but is confused by computers, email addresses, and Wikipedia.

Docta K: And punctuation. And where to stick it. And Her Place. Ana Seal is confused by a lot of stuff.

Katie: Oh, she also feels inadequate because Kate’s prettier than her, but at least she acknowledges that Kate doesn’t do it on purpose.

Docta K: Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Does he put ICE in his white wine? How fucking trashy can a multimillionaire Captain of Industry be?

Katie: Mmmmhm. He surely does.

Docta K: Jesus. Come ON, Christian Grey.

Katie: Also, her little “I never want to see you again” joke is not funny.

Docta K: I know it.

Katie: But also, he’s a total creeper for just showing up after she says she never wants to see him again.

Rooks: Y’all’re missing the big picture, here. Most importantly, who still uses AOL to chat, exclusively, and is under the age of 40?  (Also, I know someone who sometimes puts ice in her white wine, and I make faces, but she’s generally a classy sort.)

Docta K: Ha – I was just joking. They don’t use AOL.

Rooks: Oh man, I was looking forward to that, after a fashion!

Docta K: They are emailing back and forth, but Ana Seal seems like she would be on AOL, for sure. Actually, in L.A., it’s very hip to have an AOL email address. You know, sort of retro and I don’t care – all the cool kids have one. Honest.

Rooks: Wait, so we’re noticing her non-existent AOL addy ironically?  (Also, I figured out what takes to long in the drink making – I’m hand squeezing multiple ounces of lime juice. But I made this one 6x the normal recipe, and it worked out fine.)

Katie: “Rooks, do you have an alcohol problem?” I asked ironically.  Also, you should get one of these! They are very efficient!

Rooks: It’s not a problem because I don’t have a problem with it?  I have an alcohol affection!  Affectation!  Affliction?

Katie: Two questions: 1. Why is Christian so into linen shirts? and 2. Why does he walk around with his tie in his pocket?

Docta K: He’s a dork. He’s such a dork. Like, that’s the best you can do? Whatever, dummy.

Rooks: Um, Katie? You’re a real lawyer. For the kids at home, would this contract actually be binding?

Katie: It would not be, no. Contracts for sex are usually void as against public policy. But! I once saw Judge Judy enforce one, basically! I was like…WTF, JUDGE JUDY.

Rooks: As such, and given that she is clearly not the brightest crayon in the box, don’t you think the “research” should maybe include the “law”?

Katie: She learns that it’s not enforceable, don’t you worry.

Rooks: Like the only thing I could think was, wait, is there sufficient consideration?  Is her cooch supposed to be a gift promise?  Contracts was a long time ago!

Katie: Haha – I don’t remember that shit. I do important things like doc review now.

Docta K: Hahaha – I’ve got you both beat. I WORK AT A DANCE STUDIO.

Rooks: I’m just saying, this contract appears to be terribly written.


Katie: It is terribly written – I kind of read a little bit and then skipped it because it made me upset. If his lawyer makes him have an NDA, you’d think he’d help him write an actually good contract maybe? I don’t know.

In which we entirely give up all pretense of caring.

Docta K: Oh SNAP. Christian Grey does capslock at Ana Seal! Are you going to yell at HIM, Rooks?

Rooks: Ha!  You’ve just proved my point!  You know that he’s yelling at her because that’s accepted font of rage practice!  All caps = YELLING.

Katie: Why are you such a tool of the Man? THE FONT MAN.

Rooks: Fuck you, you filthy motherfucking slutbags. [/subconscious]



Docta K: SO THERE.

Rooks: Where “exactly,” equals “not even a li’l.”

Katie: Um. Rooks. What. Did. You. Just. Say.

Rooks: I called you slutbags?  Would you have preferred twatwaffles?

Katie: You denied FAS. That’s not allowed.

Rooks: Oh, yeah, I did that too.  FAS is a slutbag as well.  Yeah I said it.

Katie: FAS does get around.

Docta K: Can I pause for a quick beauty product review?


Docta K: Sally Hansen Color Quick Fast Dry Nail Color Pen! I got it at the CVS because I needed to deal with my nails after the saltwater ate my gel manicure, but I didn’t want to buy nail polish remover. I thought, well, this will probably be crap – I got it in black – and the first coat WAS crap, all watery and shit. It totally looked like balls. But I did three coats, and now! My nails are shiny; the polish is super dark and opaque. FANTASTIC. It’s really easy to use, even for a dumbass like me, and not messy at all. Like, I was doing them while I was sitting here at a Starbucks talking to you bitches.

Katie: Is the tip going to get all nasty with dried polish?

Docta K: Unclear. It comes with this brush thing, and I would imagine that if you keep the cap on tightly it will be fine? Definitely would buy again! Although, I don’t know if it would look good in a lighter color, because you can just layer up the black until it looks right, but with like pink or something it might look ass.

Katie: Maybe I will try it on my toes.

Docta K: But for dark colors, at least, go for it! 8.5/10

The nail polish is black, and she’s not white – this is why you can never trust your eyes.

Rooks: It looks kinda purple in the pic.

Katie: I thought it looked navy?

Docta K: Well, you know, Starbucks lighting.  I swear, it’s a pretty black in real life.

Katie: Like Rooks!

Rooks: :::snort:::

Katie: I bet your nails are going to go out and commit some crimes later.

Docta K: I should watch my purse. Sneaky nails!

Rooks: I apparently do not always look sufficiently black in real life.  Ethnicity, it’s hard!  (Mostly for white people, but still!)

Katie: Whatever, my life is hard because you people get rap and stuff and I don’t get any cultural identity. IT’S NOT FAIR.

Rooks: I think what narrow-minded people call “culture” is your de facto cultural identity. Also, Ikeas.

Docta K: It’s true, you get: NPR, opera, Whole Foods, etc. Plus Ikea!

Katie: Their hot dogs are so good.

Docta K: Svartbürgs up the ass.

Rooks: Don’t worry, Docta K gets ululations and veils and terrorism.

Docta K: allllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!


Docta K: You really do – they are super fun. Also unleavened bread and many chickpea related products.

Rooks: You’re right, it is hard to type an ululation!

Docta K: It is!

Katie: I’m into hummus, but generally don’t like chickpeas.

Docta K: Racist.

Katie: Was that meant to be an ululation or praising Allah? OR BOTH?

Docta K: Both.

Katie: Fucking multitasking.

Docta K: Suck on that.

Rooks: Except for the part where she’s a Christian Scientist. (Or was?)

Docta K: Was. Was was was was. Ex. Definitely ex. That was a weird thing that happened.

Katie: So you couldn’t be Christian’s sub! NO DOCTORS.  (Right?  Or is that Scientology?)

Rooks: I though it was Scientology, but turns out, it’s totally Christian Science.  Katie, you’re just as out of the running for Robber Baron von Fondue on sheer antipathy if we’re counting the fact that he mandates doctor visits. (Also, I’m wondering if they’re going to mandate health in the contract and this is purportedly monogamous, why not just mandate testing before the commencement of the contract?)

Katie: They’d have to be smart to do that? I do really fucking hate going to the doctor. (You guys, he uses sex as a weapon.) Although Ms. I-Had-a-Fever-for-Two-Weeks-But-Didn’t-Go-to-the-Doctor doesn’t have much room to cast stones in her glass house, or whatever.

Rooks: Dude, I don’t want Robber Baron Von Fondue. So, wait, Docta K, to clarify, do you bat for Katie’s team now?

Docta K: What is her team?

Katie: The “whatever, I don’t give a fuck” team.

Rooks: Aka Agnostics.

Docta K: Oh, no. If I had to categorize I would put myself in the Catholic, sort of camp. Like someone who likes watching baseball occasionally but doesn’t really want to go play.

Katie: More prostration than baseball?

Docta K: Depends how you play, I guess.

Rooks: That’s what someone from this book said.

Docta K: Better art for sure, though. I sort of picked it up, being a historian. It’s like herpes; you can’t really avoid it. If you have that much unprotected contact with relics it eventually shows up.

Rooks: Or you converted just ’cause it’s shiny . . .

Docta K: Probably! Plus I like the saints! I made St. Anne the patron saint of my dissertation, and she was pretty down.

Katie: Um, I like The Borgias, on Showtime?

Rooks: The Borgias is good, yo.  [ed. note: It starts up again in April!  That’s soon!]

Katie: SO GOOD. Tits everywhere, etc.

Docta K: I have not yet seen it! Should I be watching this?  Also, since we’re basically done with chapter 12 anyway and have given up all pretense of caring about this book, have you guys seen The League? It reminds me of book club, and is also awesome.


Docta K: Dude, check it out – you will watch the first episode and probably hate it but give it a day or two then watch the second episode and you will be IN LOVE with The League.

Rooks: I can barely get Katie to care about regular football.

Docta K: You don’t have to care about fantasy football to like it; I don’t care about fantasy football and I fucking LOVE it.

Rooks: Fair.

Katie: Ok, I have to go, but really, ok, three chapters!

Docta K: Better than one!

Screw this book; we are so damn done.

Rooks: And we don’t have our next book picked out anyway. Maybe we should just stick with bestsellers?

Katie: I feel like we should read the shark sex book, though. You know, some day.

Rooks: I think that would be a one post-er, but I’m down.

Katie: Yes, agree.

Rooks: Provided I get a shark week post sometime before that, like, um, ever.  . . . You know which Katie I’m looking at . . .

Docta K: Shhh, hush now.

Katie: Yessss not me.

Rooks: You’re in ice cream post trouble, so I wouldn’t gloat. Closing thoughts?

Katie: Christian is a creep and Ana Seal has the emotional maturity of my janky little toenail.

Rooks: Your little toenail is extremely janky. Wait, that’s not my thought.  Ummm, somehow, Ana’s first world problems match no one else’s first world problems in the history of ever.

Docta K: Don’t put ice in your white wine. It’s lame.

Don’t forget to vote, folks!  Until next time . . .

  1. Hooray, you came back! I must admit to having both sex-positive and slut-shaming bits in my head, so I can sympathize with Ana there.

    I think I’d enjoy seeing you read Twilight. Not very well written, but I found it mildly addictive.

    • I can tell you right now that that’s not going to happen. I can’t speak for the Katies – especially Katie (non-Docta), since she will totally watch those movies – but I already read that crap once for the sake of cultural literacy in re: the college kids I was then teaching, and NEVER AGAIN. NEVER, HEATHER. :D

      • I was ok with the movies until the 4th (Breaking Dawn, Part I). That movie was so bad that it turned me off to seeing movies in the theater. I seriously haven’t returned to a movie theater since then (except for an Avengers date).

Whatever, yo.

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