Christian, did you have something to do with this?

It's so f--king easy to judge other people, isn't it? Especially when it comes to, well, f--king. Like whatever you do behind closed doors is your business, sure, but let someone find out about it? It's open f--king season.

Maybe you like to role play in the bedroom, perhaps? Say some real vile shit to one another. Maybe you've got some toys or something, right? The ol' nine iron and ice cubes approach. Or, Hell, maybe you simply liked to be tied up (or down) and spanked like you stole something.

Whatever floats your boat (or tickles your pickle) is fine by me. Honestly. Personally, I'm not really into any of that stuff. I try to keep it simple, you know?  I jump through enough hoops to get to the f--king bedroom, so you can save that circus shit for another time. But,between you and me, occasionally, like, every once in a while...

...I like to get f--ked. Hard.

In a room full of strangers.

Yep, once again, in an auditorium filled with people I hope to never see again, my wife and I squirmed our way through E.L. James' second cinematic anal bead, Fifty Shades Darker. While not quite as foul-smelling and oddly crusty as the first flick [review], the latest chapter of Intermittently Sad Girl and her Giant Wooden Dildo still falls woefully short of anything other than unintentional comedic masterpiece. I'm assuming this isn't the intent of the alleged worldwide phenomenon, but clearly, as evidenced by how I spend my free time, what the f--k do I know?

After the events of the first one, all of which I couldn't give an angry f--k about, Fifty Shades Darker picks up with a more independent, more confident version of Anastasia Steele. Apparently, after being um, erotically paddled into sexual liberation (she was a virgin, right? Ah f--k it...who cares), Anastasia has blossomed into quite the confident young woman. She has a job now, and even a desk to sit at. Occasionally, she gets to stand up and talk to people. About books. It's all very fancy (though I will award 9,000 bonus points for Darker not having the workplace be super-quirky, which it easily could have been) and so...mature.

Anyway, Anastasia seems to be doing fine, despite her boss looking like the default template every sketch artist uses when penciling out a previously unseen date rapist. One night, ol' Ana heads to an art gallery to see her friend's show, and two things happen: 1) half of the show is giant pictures of her doe-eyed face, seemingly pondering whether or not to fart, and 2) Christian Grey shows up, looking like a constipated shark that feeds exclusively on vaginal meat. Even though Anastasia has like, so moved on, she reluctantly decides to have dinner with him. In Hell. 

It seems that the man who has everything, is missing the one thing that he doesn't have (yeah, f--k it): his old girlfriend. And while Anastasia might put up a fight, for say, two or three...sentences, she'll quickly fall back in love with Grey, a sophisticated sex robot, sent back in time to change the future for one lucky lady. Oh, wait. That was the Sherminator.

That moment when you realize that you still have to be in another Fifty Shades movie.

Honestly, the plot is so completely ridiculous, it really doesn't matter. They're going to go on fancy dates in exotic locations (all set to music by music's hottest STARS!), they're going to compare pouty-faces when times get tough, and of course, they're going to do it like f--king animals. While there are a few moments that actually surprised the wife and I, it's all so f--king delightfully stupid it's best to set your sites just about as low as you can. Yes, it may be better than the first one, but that's like saying the last time you pissed yourself was way more enjoyable than the last time you shit your pants. Either way, you're a terrible person.

Speaking of awful people (my wife and I included), I'm assuming the theater was full of individuals looking for an erotic thriller, and even in that regard Darker is a bit of a mess. Oh, they do some weird shit (at least, weird for a mainstream movie, I suppose), but none of it ever enters the realm of sexy. It's cold, sterile and utterly f--king ridiculous, as each sex scene takes place moments after some potentially relationship-ending disagreement. Brows are furrowed, eyes are rolled...faces are...pouted (?)...and then moments later they're tying each other up and inserting things into holes.

I once farted in a crowded elevator, too.

Maybe this is all sounding very immature and pathetic, but as the youngest person in the theater that day (I shit you not), I wanted to crack up at just about everything that was happening onscreen. The older woman behind me? She was making sounds, too...but I don't think it was laughter.

While we're on the subject of inappropriate and pointless judging, here are the Yays and Boos. Actually, in a film as insanely cheesy as Fifty Shades Darker, the cheering and jeering are basically one and the same. Instead, let's go with the F--k Yeahs and the F--k Offs. Somehow, like a round object shoved up one's ass, this name change...well, it just feels right.

I'm pretty sure that's a sleepmask with eyeholes cut out of it.

F--kkkkkkkkkk Yeahhhhhhhhh!

• Wrong lips? In one of the early sex scenes, Ana tells Christian, very passionately, kiss me. He kinda understands. But I think she meant on her face.
• Never been the hugest fan of lingerie, as uh, I much prefer full-on nudity, but Ms. Johnson looks pretty good in that little black number.
• Okay, I kind of have to cheer for the sheer absurdity of the whole bead situation. I swear only one went in her mouth (to moisten, I suppose?), but she put two in her...fun factory. I've never been good at math, though (and my wife begrudgingly disagreed when I mentioned this over smoothies after the movie), so take all of this with a grain of salt.
• Ana mentions kinky f--kery and the lady behind me let out an emphatic, MMM-HMM!
• Don't stray from the lines. Right. Unless it's the script you're straying from....then, by all means, feel free. (I think this was in reference to his lipstick boundary....more on that later)
• That was quite a romantic boat ride, wasn't it? I mean, not quite Jack and Rose, or Pam and Tommy...but top three ain't so bad.
• Those are nipple clamps. We're an hour into the second film, and Anastasia doesn't know what a nipple clamp is yet? That's like discovering masturbation after high school.
• I had a real love-hate relationship with Grey's housekeeper, Mrs. Jones. Yes, she keeps his house looking as warm and inviting as the reception area in a doctor's office, which I'm sure is in her job description. But uh, if you're dusting the red room, you might want to add constant accessory to sexual assault to your LinkedIn profile, you know?
• All kidding aside, your boss attempting to rape you at the office is no laughing matter. Unless it's handled with the careful tenderness of a spin kick to the groin. Holy shit, this scene is f--king hilarious. Seriously, Jack. You might want to dial it back a little bit, playa. I don't think she's all that into you.
• Also horrifically incredible is the publishing house's HR Lady. She's essentially a malfunctioning robot covered in human flesh. If only someone could switch her off of unnecessarily panicked. If only.
• The take off your panties scene was awkwardly titillating, right? I asked my wife to do the same later at Tropical Smoothie, but she just punched me in the face instead.
• Spoiler Alert: Ana gets her jerkfaced boss's old job. And his other assistant, Hannah. First, Ana and Hannah? Really? A simple name change could have avoided this sounding like the tamest lesbian road-trip movie Lifetime ever produced. But second, and most important, is the moment Ana sits down Hannah and attempts to make her feel better about her sudden promotion. Hannah, I don't expect you to get me coffee...unless you're getting yourself some. That's some f--king Jedi mind shit right there.
• Taylor, the guy who looks like Lance Armstrong on steroids, tries to get an upset Ana into the car. She blows by him and goes for a walk. Through every season North America has ever seen. Seriously, I think the trek to Mordor was shorter and encompassed less diverse terrain.
• The helicopter scene should be EVERYONE'S OSCAR CLIP ever. It's that f--king brilliant. 
• Oh God, then it's followed by the best local newscast ever. We're receiving word that Mr. Grey is missing in the woods. We're now receiving word that Mr. Grey has been found. [Grey immediately storms into the room, suggesting that while he can't pilot a copter, he actually has the gift of flight and or teleportation]
• One of the later sex scenes has Ana dressed up in a red mask that made me think she's a huge Ninja Turtle fan (who isn't?). Apparently, Raphael didn't pay for that order from Domino's as he's being handcuffed and...oh GOOD GOD! He's gonna crack her shell!
• I actually clapped my hands together when she hit that bitch in the face with a drink. Yeah, I was that far gone, this gesture meant everything to my life.
• My proposal was pretty terrible (shocking no one), but holy f--king shit, Grey. Really? He opens with Be mine. Next drops, Share my life with me. Then caps it with Marry me. Uh...my Giant Asshole Sense is tingling....Why not just hit her over the head with your dick and stuff her in a sleeping bag? 
• And finally, the ending. It's so f--king stupid, it essentially guaranteeing that I have to see the last one. Why is he out there? Did he know there would be fireworks? Or was he just standing in the dark, having a smoke? This makes absolutely no sense. And I love everything about it.

Keeping with the trend of poorly-written unwanted sequels....I've decided to split this post into two parts. I'll be back tomorrow to finish it. With the really, really bad stuff from this Fifty Shades Darker. 

And on that note...

F--k off!