The Life Institute AKA Team America

Ah the Life Institute. One of the many anti-choice organisations to come snaking out of 60a Capel Street, along with Youth Defence, the Mother and Child Campaign, prolifeinfo.ie and the Pro-Life Alliance. That building is like a big anti-choice Hydra. I swear if you chopped off one of its lying heads another one would spring into place screaming "LOOK AT THE BABY!"

So when Geoff offered to send me the stats he had collected about their @lifeinstitute Twitter account, I said why yes please kind sir. I'm not one to turn down an opportunity to snark on one of Ireland's infinitely annoying extremist anti-choice groups, especially when they're claiming to represent the views of the majority of people in this country and have taken to harassing TDs by bombarding them with phonecalls.

Here's what I learned about their Twitter fanbase.


Well now, would you look at that? It would appear that Irish accounts aren't all that interested in what the Life Institute have to say, and they themselves aren't particularly pushed about what Irish people have to say, either.

Look what happens when you take the descriptions of their followers and turn them into a Wordle.

Click to enlarge, unless you have bionic eyes.

My. What a diverse and eclectic mix of people with such varying interests.


I'd also like to show you a few of the descriptions themselves:

Born in the USA! The best things in life: Adonai, family, friends, milk chocolate, jet planes and a 9mm semi automatic. 

Constitution lovin, NRA, Conservative, sarcastic, Hillbilly, Redneck, Oath Keeper, Military loving, father, grandfather, dirty ol' man. 

 #Christian #PROLIFE #ISRAEL #NRA #Glock #Texas #USMC 85-95. #Indiana #IARNG 97-01. #Texan by birth #Marine by choice. #infidel. Follow or RT ≠ Endorsement 

Wow. I don't even have to do anything to make fun of them. Pro-life AND pro-gun. 

And just because it's hilarious, here's a recent tweet from one of the accounts followed by the Life Institute:

Peacefully grant the State of North Carolina to withdraw from the United States and create its own NEW government http://t.co/fd81ismG


You guys.

Night of the Running Dead

So the trailer for World War Z has landed and is making its way around the internet at a pace almost as fast as the fucking RUNNING zombies in the forthcoming film.


I love World War Z. I was properly scared while reading it and the Bear had to put up with me whimpering and gasping "oh nooooo!" while I read, as did a train carriage full of people who probably thought I was mental. It's one of my favourite books and when you know that one of your favourite books is being made into a film, you kind of have to lower your expectations and will pretty much always end up being one of those dickheads that moans about the book being better.



I get that a book like World War Z would be impossible to film without making huge changes and that's fine, but my problem is with the fast zombies in the trailer. The book manages to pull off this growing sense of dread as the world starts to get overrun by the undead, and it's that build-up of terror that proper zombies are all about. Zombies are scary because, yes, they're rotting, moving dead people and that alone is horrible enough, but it's the slow, creeping relentlessness that really scares the pants off me.

Fast zombies like the ones in 28 Days Later and the Dawn of the Dead remake aren't really zombies at all. They're rabid people infected with a virus, which is fine (although not for them, I suppose) but it does make them a different class of monster. The whole point of zombies is that they're dead. Simon Pegg pretty much nailed what I'm trying to say in a brilliant Guardian piece from a few years ago that he recently tweeted in response to people asking what he thought of the WWZ trailer:

"The speedy zombie seems implausible to me, even within the fantastic realm it inhabits. A biological agent, I'll buy. Some sort of super-virus? Sure, why not. But death? Death is a disability, not a superpower. It's hard to run with a cold, let alone the most debilitating malady of them all."

HEY ASSHOLES, THIS IS NOT THE ZOMBIE OLYMPICS. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN.

The TV version of The Walking Dead has done a great job of screen zombies, although I did get mad at them in one episode where they seemed to have the dexterity to climb over fences, which was total bullshit. As is the fact that Danny Trejo isn't playing the Governer, but that's besides the point. Aside from the fact that the fast zombie is a pretty big deviation from what the classic zombie is all about, my chances of survival would drop dramatically if I had to outrun the fuckers.

It'll be a shame if the film leaves out the worldwide character plotlines from the book and just shows Brad Pitt running around and saving his family, as that was what made it so enjoyable in the first place. Seeing the ways in which each country dealt with the outbreak, the Battle of Yonkers, Israel's self-quarantine plan, North Korea's population disappearing underground, so we don't know if there's a functioning human city beneath the country or if there's a fuck-ton of shambling Korean zombies down there are all things that added extra layers of delicious detail to the usual people vs. zombies story. Also, seeing as I'm not sold on the film having FAST HOORING ZOMBIES (to quote the lovely Dawn) in the first place, I'm not entirely convinced on the swarming tsunami of CGI zombies climbing up a huge wall and toppling a bus like a wriggly herd of dead bastards either.

I'll still go to see it when it comes out and I'm looking forward to seeing how they tackle the story, but basically what I'm getting at is that fast zombies can go fuck themselves.

Sweet Valley High Revisited - Dangerous Love

I've finally returned to the series of genuine Eighties-tastic delight that is Sweet Valley. And it's time for book six.  

Sweet Valley High #6: Dangerous Love


It's another gorgeous day in Sweet Valley (is it ever any other kind of day? I don't think it's rained in a single book so far) but Elizabeth Wakefield is on edge. You see, her super perfect boyfriend Todd has bought a motorbike but her parents have forbidden the twins from ever getting on one after their ridiculously-named cousin Rexy died in a motorbike crash. I vaguely remember Rexy being mentioned in other books that I would have read back when I was twelve or whatever, but I always assumed that cousin was a girl. It seems even more ridiculous now that it turns out that Rexy was a dude all this time. I mean, Rexy? Seriously? What would that even be short for?

Anyway, instead of just telling Todd why she can't go with him on his bike, Elizabeth is avoiding him and making up excuses so she can drive to school instead, as she's worried that he'll choose his bike over her. For once in her life, Jessica puts aside her psychotic tendencies and is actually the reasonable one, convincing Liz to just explain what's going on to Todd. So she does and Todd understands. Athough I'm not sure how much he actually understands, as at one point he says:

"The Elizabeth Wakefield I know is cautious, practical, and methodical, but she’s not a worrier."

For fuck's sake Todd, have you ever actually met Elizabeth before? In Power Play alone there were fourteen references to her being worried. After their conversation, Elizabeth watches Todd hurry off to work on a class project and thinks to herself that "everything was going to work out fine." Which is really the equivalent of her being the girl in the horror film who wanders off in her nightie, saying she'll be right back.

Todd and Elizabeth have agreed to meet at the Dairi Burger after school for the diner's big re-opening so Liz can fill her pointless Eyes and Ears column with gossip while kidding herself that she's a serious writer. Also, the Dairi Burger has undergone something of a makeover, which won't date badly at ALL.

"The most visible improvement was the replacement of the dingy, white tiled exterior with natural wood planking. The neon sign atop the roof, which used to read D RI URGE was gone too, and in its place was a brown plastic sign with the words spelled out in yellow script letters."

Nothing says class like yellow letters on brown plastic. Also, DRI URGE? Kate William, you're killing me. Anyway, Todd shows up at the diner with some bird from his class on the back of his bike, so Elizabeth acts like this automatically means they've been fucking and gets crazy jealous. A few days later he gives Enid a spin on the bike, leaving Liz on her own at the bus stop and giving her the opportunity to be all tragic on the way to school. "Blinking back tears, she found a seat on the bus and rode to school alone." Aww.

Later that day, Liz goes to the school newspaper office and ends up telling sexy Mr. Collins all about how upset she is over everything. He tells her to cop on and talk to Todd, in so many words, which she resolves to do. "It was funny, Elizabeth thought. Mr. Collins was always around when she needed him." Looks like those night vision goggles are paying off, Mr. Collins.

Liz and Todd are meeting at the Dairi Burger after school again, because it appears that no one is getting fed at home in this book. Instead of taking the bus, Liz accepts a lift from Guy Chesney, keyboard player for The Droids, who then proceeds to creep all over her in the car on the way there, while asking her about her boyfriend. It's pretty weird. When they get to the diner and Todd sees Liz getting out of Guy's car, he gets all jealous, the great big hypocrite, so they talk it out and laugh about how silly they're both being, with Todd deciding that he won't bring any other young wans for a spin on his bike anymore.

Meanwhile, Jessica has the big steely balls to ask Elizabeth if she'll convince Enid to set her up with Enid's sexy cousin Brian. According to Jessica's logic, that time she tried to screw Enid over she was actually doing her a favour and reckons that Enid "owes her one". Oh Jess. Never change, you total looper. At first, Enid tells Elizabeth that Jessica can go and shite (again, in so many words) but later on in the book she changes her mind and decides that Brian would have such a good time with Jessica that it was spiteful of her to refuse. Eh YES Enid, it's ok to be spiteful here because Jessica is a CRAZY BITCH WHO TRIED TO RUIN YOUR LIFE. Jesus, these kids suck at holding a grudge.

So, Enid is having a party for her sixteenth birthday and despite the fact that all the cool kids seem to have no time for her whatsoever, absolutely EVERYONE in the school is going. Also, her boyfriend George is in college and Enid is FIFTEEN. And that doesn't seem to strike anyone as a bit weird. The college boys in Sweet Valley like 'em young. It's creepy. Oh and the chapter right before the party ends with: "Enid's party was going to be great, Elizabeth thought. She could hardly wait." At this point she's practically running around shouting "What could POSSIBLY go wrong?!" Boy, I sure hope nothing TERRIBLE happens.

We get to the party, and the Sweet Valley Country Club is all decked out in blue and yellow carnations and sounds like a Leap Day party from 30 Rock.


Oh, and Mr. Collins is there as a chaperone. At a party that has fucking nothing to do with the school. GET A GODDAMN HOBBY, DUDE. Seriously.

Anyway, Elizabeth spends the entire party waiting around for Todd to show up, instead of just joining her friends and having the craic. She knows everyone at the party and yet she waits outside for most of it, like an idiot. Todd eventually shows up when everyone else has left, as the party has moved on to a club. It turns out that he was so late because he was sorting out selling his motorbike to Crunch McAllister, the local high school dropout and construction worker who drives a purple van. (No, really.) Elizabeth decides she wants Todd to drive her to the club on the bike, as it's her last chance to have a go on it.

ERMAHGERD! MERTERBERK!

Todd says no way, as he promised her parents that he'd never let her on it, but she wears him down, so they go for a spin and everything's great. EXCEPT IT'S NOT BECAUSE THEY CRASH. And they crash because they meet Crunch on the road, drink driving in his Mystery Machine and Elizabeth ends up in a coma. NOOOO!

Everyone is super sad at the hospital and all the Wakefields are mad at Todd. Mr. Collins shows up, because it appears that he has nothing else to be doing, and consoles Todd.

"You look like you need a friend" Mr. Collins said. When Todd didn't respond, he grabbed the boy around his waist.

STEP AWAY FROM THE STUDENT, COLLINS. What the actual fuck.

The book ends with Liz still in the coma and Jessica promising to be a better sister from now on. Ha! Let's not hold our breath on that count. But will Liz come out of the coma? With only 146 books in the series to go, it's anyone's guess. THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME.

Notable outfit:
"After much searching, her twin had finally found an outfit that did her justice, a black-and-white satin jumpsuit held in place by two tiny spaghetti straps. With her hair piled atop her head and long black-and-white earrings dangling from her lobes, Jessica looked stunning."

YOU GO JESSICA WAKEFIELD.

Things I counted:
Number of pages: 118
References to the twins' blue-green eyes: 2 (Boo.)
References to the fact that the twins are blonde: 4
Eye colour mentions in general: 6

A Long Overdue Paris Post

A few weeks ago, myself and the Bear, along with Billy and The Incredible Mulq went off to Paris for a few days and I'm only getting around to posting about it now because, well, I'm easily distracted. Also, I recently fractured my ankle, which isn't really an excuse seeing as I've been confined to the couch since then, but still. Anyway, Paris was all kinds of fun and there were many many Taken jokes. "Where's my scarf?" *Liam Neeson voice* "It's been TAKEN."

The Friday was spent in Disneyland, where I kept breaking into a run without really meaning to, because I was so excited and just love it there so goddamn much.


There was quite a lot of running around to get a go (and a second go) on all the rollercoasters, in fact at one point the Bear and I were told to stop running by one of the Indiana Jones rollercoaster staff, like we were bold children. It's the park's 20th birthday this year, so there waas a big parade halfway through the day, which we didn't think we'd have any interest in as we were busy making our way to Space Mountain and Star Tours at the time. That was until The Incredible Mulq and I saw the floats coming down the street with Ariel and Rapunzel waving at the crowds and found ourselves drawn in and taking about a million photos.


However, the real birthday celebration spectacle was right before the park closed for the night, where a light show was projected onto the castle, alongside the big songs from Disney films over the years. It was genuinely one of the best things I've ever seen. At one point the castle had red brick chimneys and dancing chimney sweeps projected onto it for Step In Time from Mary Poppins. I involuntarily started dancing at that point, it's physically impossible to stay still during that song. My review of it at the time was something along the lines of "The parades can go fuck themselves, THAT was amazing." It's pretty hard to describe what the whole thing was like and almost impossible to get a decent photo to do it justice, but here's one anyway from when it went all steampunky and I nearly passed out from excitement. 


During the last minute flurry of not needing anything but wanting to buy everything in the shops on our way out, I noticed a pair of knickers with a face on them. Not just any face though, the face of Marie from The Aristocats. A kitten with a child's voice. Pretty weird.

Ladies and gentlemen, a Disney pussy joke.

It rained for the rest of the weekend, so Saturday was spent at a covered flea market, almost having lunch in the cafe from Amelie, until we got there and found that it was jammed with people and overpriced to boot and making our way to Sacre Coeur, where it stopped raining long enough for us to see the view and amble to the nearest pub.

A necklace I bought at the flea market.

On Sunday, the Bear and I attempted to do a photos with landmarks day, but the unrelenting rain was making it a lot less fun that it should have been. We got as far as Notre Dame and saw a ferret though, so that was cool. I think I'd quite like a ferret now.


While taking shelter from the rain in the swanky shopping mall under the Louvre, we used the free wifi to try to find something to do indoors and discovered that the Decorative Arts museum nearby was running an exhibition of Star Wars toys. I was trying to find out more on my phone when the Bear just looked at me said "What are you still reading for!? There are TOYS there and they might let me PLAY WITH THEM."

Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to play with anything, but it was still awesome. We actually did it backwards by accident, as we ended up in the room with the toys from the recent films first and zipped through that pretty quick because really, who gives a fuck about those toys. The area for the original films was properly deadly though. There was original poster art, promotional shop signs from the seventies, moulds for action figures, concept art and printers proofs for packaging.


We totally win at being in Paris.

Every Sperm Is Sacred

Earlier this year, my lovely friend Sam met some American nuns in a chipper during the Eucharistic Congress. He took their picture because I think we could all agree that a photo of nuns in proper old school habits waiting for a batter burger in a chip shop would be deadly. It was. He subsequently emailed it to them, but then ended up on a mailing list and was sent an anti contraception video by the order. In the meantime, the video has done the rounds online, appearing on Jezebel and The Huffington Post and it is genuinely the MOST INSANE thirteen and a half minutes you will ever experience IN YOUR LIFE.


Now I'd be the first person to say balls to that on seeing that a YouTube clip was running anything over three minutes and doesn't even feature a cat doing something cute, but SERIOUSLY, stick with it because you will not regret watching this entire thing. Although you might get a pain in your face from laughing and pulling faces of disbelief. I know I did.



So let's have a little look at these alleged truth bombs being dropped all up on us by the good sisters, shall we?

According to the video, women who take contraceptives don't give off sexy fertility pheromones any more, so the menfolk are all confused.

"What is a man to do when the majority of women are contracepting and he no longer finds them desirable?"

Aha! So THIS is why no-one fancies anyone anymore and everyone in the world has stopped having sex, right? Finally, the truth! However, contracepting is not a word.

"Contracepting women degrade themselves through immodest dress and action in an attempt to attract men who are confused from a lack of fertile women." (Seriously, not an actual word.)


Those WHORES. With their slutty wine and their slutty make-up, painting their GODLESS FACES. And you'd think that if they're going to degrade themselves they could at least do it in a decent pair of shoes.

Now, before you laugh off the video's claims like the feckless tramp you undoubtedly are, they're about to drop some SCIENCE on you. In the seventies, a researcher injected some lady monkeys with a contraceptive, which caused the alpha male to stop being attracted to them. Then ALL the lady monkeys were injected and as a result, the alpha male started having GAY MONKEY SEX because he lost interest in all the females. So if your boyfriend is a chimpanzee and you're taking the Pill, then congratulations you hussy, you've just turned your monkey boyfriend GAY. I hope you're proud of yourself.

Also, your pill will KILL YOU.

If you're trying to be serious, maybe fluorescent pink isn't the best choice.

"It is impossible to calculate the number of deaths due to contraception because mortality is often attributed to another cause."

Like, say, oh I don't know... the ACTUAL cause?

But nevermind all that, because just taking the pill in the morning means that you're KILLING BABIES. Don't you see that preventing an egg from becoming fertilised is THE EXACT SAME as trampling over newborns every day and stabbing them in the heart with the heels of your whore shoes? WELL IT IS. BECAUSE SCIENCE.

"It's impossible to calculate how many millions of babies have died [from women using contraceptives]."

But wait! There's more! Those fiendish contraceptabots are peeing oestrogen into the water supply and making everyone infertile! Surely a fate worse than neon pink DEATH!

I'm not sure what's more offensive, every claim made by this video, or the fact that they had the audacity to use the Jurassic Park typeface.

By the way, that scrolling Star Wars list reads: adultery, divorce, abortion, homosexuality, sexually transmitted diseases, promiscuity, adultery, divorce, abortion, homosexuality, sexually transmitted disease, promiscuity, adultery, divorce, abortion, homosexuality, sexually transmitted disease and promiscuity. So good they listed everything thrice. In case you missed any of them the first time around.

Something else this video taught me is that placing the word FACT in front of any old bullshit automatically MAKES IT TRUE.

Exhibit A:


According to the video everyone in the WORLD could live in Texas quite comfortably. WHAT A GOSH DARN RELIEF, GUYS. I'm off to get my cowboy hat and see if JR Ewing will put me up in Southfork.

There's also a great part where they bring up different birth rates for countries. Apparently Japanese people are in danger of becoming extinct. Then there's the statistics for each country and the USA one is particularly great.


Because ewww brown babies don't count, obviously.

So, there's not enough babies in the world and selfish trampy women deciding that they want to get the ride and not be knocked up are ruining everything. However, if you DO want a baby but have to use IVF, well God is STILL mad at you.You seriously cannot win with these nuns.

"This creation of life comes with a price. For every single child born, thirty are created. The other twenty nine are either killed or frozen."

IVF IS KILLING SPARE BABIES. Except they're not actually babies at all, but let's not allow logic or facts to get in the way here.

Oh and because of this "birth control mentality" (i.e. doing what you like and not being constantly pregnant), some guy in California fucks his dogs and it's our fault for some reason.

Wait a second, they weren't talking about doggy style at all! They want to have sex with tigers and bonobo monkeys! Those crafty BASTARDS!

One of the most jaw-dropping quotes from the video (and there are SO FUCKING MANY of those) is the following:

"If you had a valuable racehorse, because of its worth, you'd want it to have as many offspring as possible. But the value of a horse is nothing compared to the infinite value of each and every person."


Oh and this one is pretty good too: "We're not stray cats that need to be neutered. We should want to procreate."

Ladies! You're more important than racehorses and you're not cats and as such you must be pregnant AT ALL TIMES or God will smite you right in the vagina. And then you'll be sorry.

Also, this:


Yeah, let that sink in, sluts. Welcome to Deathtown, population: YOU.

I have to say, I sure hope the voiceover lady was seconds away from going into labour while recording for this video, or at the very least she should have been heavily pregnant while breastfeeding one of her eight small children. Otherwise, she's no better than us contraceptive-using, non-pregnant floozies, right? Right!

Quelque Chose #18

In 1932, at the age of 22, an Irish girl called Margaret Kelly was a showgirl and choreographer at the Folies Bergère in Paris. She was nicknamed "Miss Bluebell", because of her striking blue eyes and created her own dance group, called the Bluebell Girls. She employed the tallest girls she could find, often recruiting classical dancers who has grown too tall to become professional ballerinas. In 1948, she moved the Bluebell Girls to the Lido and was notoriously protective of them, as rich men quite liked the idea of having a Bluebell Girl for a wife. She often repeated the line "My girls are my girls." To this day, the Bluebell Girls still dance at the Lido, an apparently unmatched record of longevity in show business.

From Hell

Towards the end of next week the Bear and I, along with Billy and The Incredible Mulq, are skipping off to Paris for a few days and I am SO GODDAMN EXCITED. It's been three years since my last trip there and I'm having serious Disneyland withdrawals. Anyway, quite by coincidence, I came across this totally fucking bonkers and amazing Parisian restaurant online a few days ago. The downside? It closed somewhere around 1950. Boo.

Café de l'Enfer was a Hell-themed restaurant and opened in the late nineteenth century in Pigalle. It was possibly one of the first ever themed restaurants and doesn't it look like it was about a bajillion times more fun than Planet Hollywood or the Hard Rock Cafe?

Just look at this fucking awesome door! It might just be one of the best things I've ever seen. Raaawwr! THANK YOU INTERNET.

The interior was described by National Geographic as having "plaster lost souls writhing on its walls", the doorman wore a Satan suit and greeted customers by saying "Enter and be damned!" and the waiters were dressed as devils. Also:

An order for three black coffees spiked with cognac was shrieked back to the kitchen as: "Three seething bumpers of molten sins, with a dash of brimstone intensifier!"


Ok, to be honest, all the screaming and the lost souls eyeballing you while you eat your dinner might have made for a somewhat stressful dining experience, but Jaysus it would have been tremendous craic too.


Some smart arse went on to open a cafe next door called Heaven. It looks lovely and all, but I know which one I'd rather go to. I'll see your starry celestial entrance and raise you a FUCKING GIANT DEMON MOUTH.


Apparently a Monoprix supermarket stands on the site these days. It's a goddamn crime that a building facade as awesome as that was ever torn down. Fuck you, Paris.*

*Not really, I love you Paris, please don't rain all over us when we are in you.

Images yoinked from Retronaut.

Brief Exchange - Wait, Put Your Pants Back On!

I recently took part in an exhibition organised by my brilliant friend Noeleen, called Brief Exchange. Rest assured there was no knicker swapping involved, as the idea here was for a group of 23 designers/illustrators/whatever you're having yourself-ers to each write a brief for a poster design. The briefs were then mixed up and distributed to the group, so everyone had a new brief to work on. It was a huge amount of fun and the resulting exhibition enjoyed a great run in both Cork and Dublin. So now that the posters are coming down this evening, I decided to post my design here.

The brief I was given was to redesign one of the Top 10 Worst Album Covers Of All Time, which included delights such as Prince's wistful, elfin (oh, and NAKED) form reclining on some flowers on the cover of Lovesexy and Millie Jackson straining with her knickers around her ankles (with one shoe in her hand for some unknown reason) while sitting on the jacks for the charmingly titled Back to the Shit.

Also on the list however, was Michael Jackson's HIStory. It was an obvious choice for me, seeing as I love Michael Jackson. When we were younger, my brother and I used to call each other for dinner by singing it in the air of Thriller. i.e. "DINNERRRR! Diiinnerrrtime!" And neither of us are quite over the fact that Mam told us she was going to a Civil Defence meeting in 1992 when she was actually going to the Dublin date of the Dangerous World Tour without us. BETRAYAL. We were only small at the time, but still. BETRAYAL.

Anyway, here's my poster:


I ran with the slightly Soviet feel that the big statue on the old cover gave off, along with making it a sort of gallery of his most iconic looks from over the years. I was really happy with the end result, even though I ended up in a bit of a panic, as we had two months to get it done, so I was all "Oh, there LOADS of time sure, I don't need to start yet...OHJESUSTHERE'SAWEEKLEFT."

I think I'm particularly happy with the Smooth Criminal and Bad era Michaels. I like the Smooth Criminal one because it's so simple and I actually like the Bad one for the opposite reason, because it was so bloody complicated, what with the four million belts and buckles he was wearing.


So that was my poster for the project. The brief that I wrote for it was to design a public information poster dealing with zombie attacks, which went to Alan B, an absolutely brilliant illustrator. He took it in a great direction and designed a poster to publicise a book for children about dealing with the post-apocalyptic issue of zombie relatives, called Uncle Fred Undead! He knocked it out of the fucking park and I think you'll agree:


Super deadly, am I right? If you want to have a look at all 23 posters from the exhibition, there's an album on Facebook here.

Fifty Shades of Tedious Fuckery (Vol. 12)

Well now, would you look at that! I've actually, finally made it to the end of the bucket of shite that is Fifty Shades of Grey. Thanks a million to everyone for all the brilliant comments, tweets and emails, you've been deadly. So here we go, the home straight, Volume 12.

Catch up: Volumes 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 and 11.


Now then. Where was I? Ah yes, Christian has just informed Ana that he can't make it to dinner at her mother's house, as he has to go back to Seattle because he has a "situation" to deal with.

The last ‘situation’ he had was my virginity. Jeez, I hope it’s nothing like that.

JEEZ and HOLY FUCK Ana, me too. One ridiculous virgin bitch is quite enough to be dealing with. There is only so much hatred I can handle, after all. The word "situation" gets used so much here that I start to wonder if he's got a meeting with this guy:

They could start a company together. Douchebag & Cuntface Inc. Their business plan is too piss off EVERYONE IN THE WORLD.

That afternoon, Ana is relaxing by the pool and we're met by another sentence that enraged me the exact amount as that awful "I take a moment to admire the pretty" one back in Volume 6 did.

"As I lie in the sun, endeavoring to lose the pale, I think about yesterday evening and breakfast today."

Endeavouring to lose the pale. THE PALE. Well fuck me Anastasia, you're looking well for a wan who ruled 15th century Dublin and wished to relinquish that control by constantly sunbathing, because that is THE ONLY WAY ANY PART OF THAT SENTENCE MAKES ANY FUCKING SENSE.

Goddammit EL James, what the fuck did the English language ever do to you to deserve this?

Anyway, Ana starts to wonder why Christian is suddenly so willing to try "more" (gag) with her and what could have changed his mind about it. Then she remembers that he had dinner with Elena and goes into an utterly inexplicable rage because HOW VERY DARE SHE help Ana get exactly what she has wanted this whole time. THAT DEVIOUS WENCH. There's another three pages of emails where she asks him to tell her what it was that she said in her sleep, he says no, blah blah blah, she gets all annoyed and thinks how he's "Fifty shades of exasperating". Fifty Shades of DIE IN A FUCKING FIRE.

Appearances of the phrase "fifty shades": 14


Ana gets dropped off at the airport by her mother and Bob. She sits down on the plane and starts thinking about how her mother reckons Christian is in love with her but she doesn't think Christian is properly capable of love. She uses the phrase "my mother’s words waft like a zephyr through my mind" and the existence of this book wafts like a fart through my life.

According to her, being into BDSM and a spot of bondage means you hate yourself and feel like you don't deserve to be loved, which seems like an outrageously insulting thing to say about people who partake in such sexual endeavours. Ana emails Christian to update him on the fact that she's sitting down, so they go back and forth for seven emails about fuck all, where the only thing we learn is that "the situation could be better".

Appearances of the word "situation": 22 (That's just excessive.)

Ana realises that the only empty seat in first class is the one beside her, which was also the case when she was flying out to Georgia.

"I shake my head as the thought crosses my mind that Christian might have purchased the adjacent seat so that I couldn’t talk to anyone. I dismiss the idea as ridiculous – no one could be that controlling, that jealous, surely."

Hey, maybe she's just been sleepwalking her way through the entire relationship up to this point, because I can't begin to imagine that anyone could actually be that fucking stupid.


Ana eventually gets to Christian's place and he immediately demands that they take a shower together, but they end up fucking against the wall. Right before this though, he does the following:

"He steps out of his shoes and reaches down to take each of his socks off, never taking his eyes off me."

This line makes me burst out laughing every time I read it, because someone staring at you while they take their socks off is fucking hilarious to me and I honestly have no idea why. Possibly because I keep thinking of how they would end up hopping forward on one foot and trying not to faceplant into the floor during the process. Afterwards, they get into the shower and Ana ruins the sexy moment by bringing up José The Potential Rapist's photography exhibition and asks Christian if he'd like to come with her to it. He grudgingly agrees to go and Ana mentions how he seems to be "on the jealous side" when it comes to José.  

“Yes, I am,” he says darkly. “And you’d do well to remember that."

FUCK YOU RIGHT IN THE EAR, GREY.

After they've eaten dinner, Christian tells Ana that he wants her to be ready and waiting in his playroom in fifteen minutes. While she's waiting for him to come in, she gets nervous about what he's going to do with her.

"After the last few days… after all he’s done, I have to man up and take whatever he decides he wants, whatever he thinks he needs."

NO YOU FUCKING DON'T. YOU DIDN'T ASK HIM TO UPGRADE YOU TO FIRST CLASS OR FUCKING FLY TO GEORGIA AFTER YOU LIKE A TOTAL PSYCHO SO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GROW A GODDAMN SPINE.

Holy fuckballs, it's like feminism never happened.

He goes over the safewords that they have agreed on if she wants him to stop at any point. Once that's all sorted, he ties her to the bed, puts a blindfold and headphones on her, so she can't see or hear what he's doing and while he explains to her that he'll be able to hear what she's listening to on the headphones, he holds up "a small, flat device that looks like a very hip calculator".

ALSO KNOWN AS A FUCKING REMOTE CONTROL. CHRIST.

There's a bit of light flogging and Ana comes like a motherfucker, as she is wont to do. Later on, she wakes up alone in Christian's bed at five in the morning and finds Christian playing sad music on his piano. She tries to get him to talk about his childhood, he decides he wants to fuck on the piano, she decides she wants to talk about their relationship and the contract. He says the contract is moot at this point and he just wants her to follow the rules section of it. She asks what will happen if she breaks one of the rules. He says she'll be punished but that he'll need her permission to punish her.

She asks "What if I say no?" and he replies “If you say no, you’ll say no. I’ll have to find a way to persuade you.”

OR HEY, HOW ABOUT THIS: YOU BACK THE FUCK OFF AND RESPECT HER WISHES FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, YOU UTTER TURD OF A HUMAN.


Ana rolls her eyes at this, which gives Christian a raging horn because according to his logic, now he gets to spank her. She has already told him that she really REALLY doesn't like to be spanked, so she runs around the room with him chasing her, acting all coy and teasing him even though she's genuinely trying to get away from him and not just playing along. I honestly have no idea why she does this. Although, nothing else in this book makes sense so there's hardly any point complaining about it this late in the game.

She tells him that she feels about spanking the way he fells about her touching him. This upsets him greatly, so she backtracks a bit and tries to explain that she's worried that he'll hurt her if he's punishing her. He says he wants and needs to hurt her, but not beyond anything she can take and he won't tell her why this is because he's afraid she'll leave him. Oh and apparently Ana begged him not to leave her in her sleep. That's what has been building up for the last few chapters, a big pile of nothing. And for fuck's sake, what kind of idiot bases their relationship on something the other person said IN THEIR SLEEP? YOU'RE A FUCKING TOOL CHRISTIAN.

So Ana decides that she wants him to punish her and to show her how bad it can get, because she's labouring under the delusion that if she does this for him then she'll be able to CHANGE him or SAVE him or some such bollocks. He's - understandably - completely confused by this and repeatedly asks her if she's sure, she repeatedly says yes, EVEN THOUGH SHE'S NOT and he tells her he's going to hit her on the arse six times with a belt. So he does it and it sounds horrible and she's screaming and crying from the second blow onwards, instead of using the safewords he had drilled into her just a few hours ago.

When he's finished, he tries to comfort her and she freaks the fuck out, because she's furious with him, even though she ASKED HIM TO DO THIS. For once, this is actually not completely Christian's fault. She calls him a fucked up son of a bitch and stiffly storms off to her room and bawls her eyes out crying. She's all distraught and reckons she needs to leave him but doesn't want to and thinks stuff like "Oh, this is a dark morning of the soul for me" because she's the worst female character ever written in anything, ever.

He eventually follows her into the room all sad and tells her she should leave him, she says she doesn't want to and that she loves him, he's "horrified" (because he doesn't deserve love, I guess?) and says he can't make her happy, she says he DOES make her happy (which flies in the face of THE ENTIRE BOOK SO FAR seeing as all she's done is cry and be confused about everything) but she eventually makes up her mind and packs up her shit.

She gives Christian back the laptop, Blackberry and car keys, which also horrifies him. Then he tells her that Taylor will drive her home, she refuses and with "barely-contained fury" he says "Are you going to defy me at every turn?" At which point I think to myself, GO FUCKING FUCK YOURSELF, GREY. It's bad enough that he controlled her every move while they were together, but thinking that he can keep doing it when they're breaking up is just taking the piss. Who the fuck does he think he is?

The remaining few paragraphs of the book contain possibly the most hilariously melodramatic writing of all time. When she's getting into the lift to leave the apartment, it doesn't just go down to the basement, oh no. 

"It whisks me down to the bowels of the basement and to my own personal hell." 

Reading this book has been MY own personal hell.

"Embarrassment and shame washes over me. I’m a complete failure."

YES. YOU ARE. AT EVERYTHING. INCLUDING BEING A RELATABLE, LIKEABLE CHARACTER THAT I COULD GIVE A TWIRLY FUCK ABOUT.

"I had hoped to drag my Fifty Shades into the light, but it’s proved a task beyond my meager abilities."

So is understanding the concept of a remote control.

"The enormity of what I’ve done slowly washes over me. Shit – I’ve left him. The only man I’ve ever loved."

She met him ONE MONTH AGO.

"I fall onto my bed, shoes and all, and howl. The pain is indescribable… physical, mental… metaphysical… it is everywhere, seeping into the marrow of my bones."

METAPHYSICAL PAIN, YOU GUYS. She's so incredibly sad that she's completely given up on making any fucking sense AT ALL.

And that's it. The book ends with her throwing herself on her bed, clutching a deflated helicopter shaped balloon and crying her fucking face off. THE END.

References to Christian's eyes being grey: 102
References to Christian's pants hanging from his hips: 7

Appearances of the word "blush": 34
Appearances of the word "flush": 94

Amount of times I had to put this book down and say "Oh for FUCK'S SAKE" in an exasperated manner: 4,583 (Probably.)

So there you have it. A terrible story with a terrible message, terrible characters and a terrible ending. It was originally supposed to be called Master of the Universe. Sound familiar? Well it should, because Masters of the Universe is basically He-Man. You know what would have made a better story with a better message and better characters?

ANY STORY ABOUT HE-MAN.