50 Shades of WTF

It has been OVER a week, and still no post-marathon entry?! How dare I keep you all on the edge of your seats like this. I am such a jerk. No fair.

WHY have I not posted? Well, my reason is pretty pathetic, actually.

I have gone to the dark side.

I am reading 50 Shades of Grey.

I KNOW!

This book is a complete smack in the face of all literature. An atrocity. A blow to the intelligence of any reader. A miserable piece of art, not worthy of publication or notice. Complete smut. Filth. Shakespeare is rolling over in his grave. Emerson and Thoreau are sobbing. Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein are wondering how the women that read their stories as children have grown to dabble in crap like this. C. S. Lewis is covering his ears with his hands and rocking back and forth. Lewis Carroll has come out of his drug-induced euphoria to just say "WTF?!" Hemingway is giving me the finger.

BUT DUDE, IT'S A COMPLETE PAGE-TURNER! I can't put it down. I am ashamed. I am less of a human being. I can't even look myself in the eye.

So at night and on the weekends, when I should be blogging, I have my nose stuck in this book learning more about Ana and Christian and their sexual escapades. I have 50 pages left, and will probably finish it tonight. Then I will have my life back, and will remember that running is more important than despicable porn books.