Unless you’ve recently crawled under a rock, or have been hiding out on a Pacific island with the Japanese soldier who didn’t know WW II had ended, you must be aware that the much- anticipated film version of “Fifty Shades of Grey” was released this weekend, with the biggest advanced ticket sales of any movie.
When we last left Anna Steelman and Judah Gold (nee Goldberg), she had just been introduced to his Florida Room of Pain (aka the Pink Playground), and was being ravished atop the ornate four-poster bed by a turned-on Mr. G. He succeeded in awakening stirrings within her that she had not experienced since discontinuing hormone
Two significant events occurred this week. 1) I had another birthday, and 2) I finally read “Fifty Shades of Grey.” What is the link between these two seemingly unrelated happenings, you might ask? Even if you don’t (ask, that is) you know I’m about to tell you. My birthday, of course, forced me to confront
