Remember when I told you I read a Sally Quinn piece in which she describes her mom sending her an orgasm from beyond the grave? She's at it again, claiming 50 Shades of Grey is really 50 Shades of God.
Maybe she's even right. Recall the Chestertonian aphorism: "Every man who knocks on the door of a brothel is looking for God."
But I wish all the spokesmen for "women" wanted more for us and for themselves than an old age spent in self-abuse.
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