50 Shades of Grey…and my mama

Ya’ll, I have to tell you about my mother and the church. There’s no real point to this post, except to share my tipsy ramblings about my out of control mother. And the church. And her wild ass book selection. Read along with me now….

Everybody knows that most churches have a ministry for every damn thing you can think of under the sun. Children’s Ministry. Women’s Ministry. Reformed Hoe’s Ministry. Prison Ministry. Military Ministry. Love that Chicken from Popeyes Ministry. You name it, they got it.

So my parents, being the good Southern Baptist people that they are, are members of the Couples’ Ministry. (Hell, they’re almost the leaders of said ministry since they’ve been together forever and ever, Amen.) As a part of one of their bi-monthly couples outings, they decided to host a dinner and book discussion on love and relationships at their house. Cool, right? Ask me what book they chose to read. Go ahead. Ask me. Fifty Shades of Grey.

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I promise you, I can’t make this shit up. The Couples Ministry of my black ass Southern Baptist Church decided to read Fifty Shades of Grey by E L James. Why Lord?! When I asked my mom why she chose that book, she told me that she suggested it. She then proceeded to deliver the final KO by telling me that she was leading the discussion. Pause. Whet?! I asked my dad if he was planning on reading this book, and this is the most accurate description of his response.

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Before we even talk about my church group’s penchant for dirty books, let’s talk about the piece of work itself. I’m going to keep it 100, and just call a spade a spade.  It was horrible. I say this as a person that does not like to drag books because I understand how difficult it is to share your innermost thoughts with the world, but this is an exception. The book was trash!!! The concept was trash, the writing was basura, and we’re not even going to discuss how she completely fucked up some of the basic principles of BDSM. Bottomline = Trash! It was 350 pages of my life that I could never get back.

But back to my out of control mother and this asinine book selection, I’m still trying to figure out what these old ass folks hoped to gain from reading this book. I imagine that there was some sort of discussion about Adam and Eve, submissiveness to your husband, and all of the other basic ‘how do you spice up your relationship after 25 years’ questions that you could expect from a group of super Christian black folks in the deep South. However, I absolutely REFUSE to believe that they talked about safe words, hemp vs jute rope, and the art of caning. Of course, I told this to my mother and her exact response was, “What? It’s okay to get a spanking every now and then.”

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Of course I have to re-evaluate how I look at her now. I mean, who says that to their daughter?! Now, she’s got me turning full blown Oran Juice Jones stalker and checking out the books in the library of her Kindle. Her books selections are filthier than mine! And that’s saying something! I don’t know how to feel about it ya’ll, and if one of you says ‘like mother, like daughter’, I’m cussing you out off GP.


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