Looks like 50 Shades of Grey is a box office hit.
Congrats to E.L. James.
No, I don’t plan to see the movie. Not for the reasons you may think. I just don’t want to spend the money. I did read the book, but I’m not going to bash it here. Ms. James accomplished something most writers like myself only dream of. With so many fans, from housewives to female boardroom executives, I can’t argue with those results.
Whether the book demeans women, promotes abuse, or is an inaccurate portrayal of BDSM is not for me to say. I’m no expert, so I’ll leave that to people more knowledgeable that myself and the book critique to the New York Times.
Love or hate 50 Shades has created quite a buzz.
Like everyone else I have an opinion and it has little to do with BDSM.
Women are tired. Tired of deciding what’s for dinner.
We’d like someone else to step-up to the plate take charge, pay the electric bill (on time) and without
griping about lights on in empty rooms. Tip: check behind the door before you plunge someone into complete darkness. It’s a bitch getting dressed.
In the beginning doing everything is easy. We’re more organized, he’s working long hours, but before long the load becomes heavy.
Working outside the home or not, seems as though planning menus, paying bills, taking kids to scheduled activities and yes, even planning a date night falls onto our shoulders.
Once, just once, we’d like someone else to decide what’s for dinner, and drive through doesn’t count.
So that’s why I think 50 Shades of Grey appeals to so many women. Forget about kinky sex, we want someone to make a damn decision about what’s for dinner.
Am I wrong?
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