Mark and I sometimes have some fairly surreal conversations and this morning over coffee the abysmal ‘Novel’ 50 Shades of Gray came up. Now just so you know, I haven’t read the whole thing but I have read enough of it to give me an idea of just how bad it really is. I forget how many chapters I trudged through trying alternately to avoid spluttered laughter and splattering vomit (neither is particularly welcome in the library) but it was, shall we say, more than one and less than ten. By the way, I loved Charlie Brooker’s review of the film on his ‘Weekly Wipe’ where he referred to Christian Gray as ‘a sort of Lego Colin Firth’. This sums him up beautifully.
And here, should you choose to subject yourself to is, is the trailer:
Where was I? Oh, yes – having coffee with Mark. Well, after the usual half-hour rant on how crap everything is, he make the joke that actually reading 50 Shades is in itself a masochistic act. Whereupon I mimed turning the pages and making noises as Sally does in that famous cafe scene…
‘I’ll read what she’s reading,’ he quipped. Oh, how we laughed.
Now, on the subject of days having a theme, I went to Pingk last night for the first time in ages and was presented with a beautiful book of poems of the ‘Earthworm-Blackbird’ genre. This included one of mine entitled ‘When Harry Ate Sally’.