Warning: This Post is 50 Shades of Nasty.

Five-hundred pages of torturous inner dialogue from a needy heroine?
Treacly, cliched prose and poor sentence structure?
Forty million copies sold world-wide? Mostly bought by sexually-frustrated middle-aged women?

IS this “Twilight?”

No. But E.L. James’ erotic novel “50 Shades of Grey” DID start out as “Twilight” fan-fiction.

I am just one ball of sexual, tense, need. He stares down at me for a moment, measuring my need, then he grabs me suddenly and flips me over. It takes me by surprise, and because my hands are tied, I have to support myself on my elbows. He pushes both my knees up the bed so my behind is in the air, and he slaps me hard. Before I can react, he plunges inside me. I cry out – from the slap and from his sudden assault, and I come instantly again and again, falling apart beneath him as he continues to slam deliciously into me. He doesn’t stop. I’m spent. I can’t take this… and he pounds on and on and on… then I’m building again… surely not… no… “Come on, Anastasia, again,” he growls through clenched teeth, and unbelievably, my body responds, convulsing around him as I climax anew, calling out his name. I shatter again into tiny fragments, and Christian stills, finally letting go, silently finding his release. He collapses on top of me, breathing hard. “How nice was that?” he asks through his gritted teeth. Oh my.

I wonder if the heroine ever takes a break from being “deliciously slammed” to think about the effect that her sexual endeavors are having on her readers. The open consumption and discussion of this graphicly sexual novel is being hailed by many smart people as a feminist success.

Right, because BDSM (especially in this case where the female is the submissive) is all about equality and fairness between the sexes.

You’d never guess that this man is actually a staunch feminist.

Hipster Jew Impresario Chicky sent me this link to the “50 Shades of Grey” smut-generator. The site takes a plethora of filthy, outlandish, often animal-related, sometimes scatological, erotic-ish words and strings them together with this bi-line:

Fledgling authors! Spice up your otherwise lacklustre novel with graphic sex scenes guaranteed to get your readers hot under the collar, and slightly sick in their mouths. If you end up winning a big literary award, we’ll split the prize money 50/50, yeah? Wire transfer is fine.

Here are a few examples (brace yourself, prudes)

“The seemingly never-ending streams of love mayonnaise emanating from his bald avenger soon had me coated like a plasterer’s radio.

“Wetter than an otter’s pocket”

“He munched on my lunchmeat, even though I’d had the painters in for the best part of a week.”

“…With my sugared almond now much like a badly wrapped kebab, he thought it was time to start stuffing my balloon knot.”

I really just can’t go on.

Zach Galifianakis and Will Ferrell read it as it should be read.