Rant: fifty shades of rage

I am embarrassed to admit it, but I have read the entire Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy, by E.L. James.

It wasn't just the pages of orgasmic writhing that made me squirm, it was also the quality of the writing. The errors were as numerous as the protagonist's orgasms: no, a 38-footer is not a super yacht; bougainvillea will not provide a heady scent on the Mediterranean because it has no fragrance; and only in mullet land could black jeans be considered sartorially elegant.

And I thought my head would explode after I read "inner goddess" for the 987th time and got sucked into a print-version vortex of bad daytime television.

Where were the sub-editors?