I can’t promise I’ll write about this season consistently. There’s not a ton of time being a human with a real job and having an infant daughter. Apparently kids require work.
That said, here’s a little kick off to a show I’ll be watching because after listening to six months of a baby talk, I think the level of conversation on this show is a really nice primer before returning full-time to talking to real adults. These contestants are really good intermediate speakers. They are ADULT-LITE™.
So, Arie. GTFO. Why?
If you need to do fifteen minutes of backstory to remind me who the Bachelorette even was that turned him down before even reminding me who he was, you’re really digging at the bottom of the barrel.
If Sean Lowe is the only dude willing to come give advice and they aren’t even friends, it’s a bad call. Since Sean is for sure reading this, because, well what else would fucking Sean have to do but scour social media for himself, congratulations. You have a cute kid and you’ve stayed married.
I’m actually not being sarcastic. I didn’t see that coming. Good work. Being a Dad is hard. Keep up the good work. Keep off ABC, though.
Arie has been like a TOTALLY successful race car driver which sounds believable because no one watches minor league IndyCar racing. North Korea has nukes. I don’t have time for MAJOR LEAGUE IndyCar racing, let alone whatever this dude did that aired on ESPN The Ocho.
Also, he hasn’t raced since 2010. Before he was on the Bachelorette in 2012. So spare me the “I became a realtor to center myself” shit. He needed money. Dad cut him off.
Side note. Is becoming a realtor the new “entrepreneur” designation on this show? I have friends that are actual realtors. It’s 24/7. It’s hard work. It’s a grind. I don’t believe anyone who is “casually going into real estate” because I already had to listen to them tell me about their “start up” in 2008 (2 years before Arie stopped racing in races no one watches).
Let’s just keep it real. His father was a race car driver. In fact, a great one. A real IndyCar driver who looked like this:
Dude should be the mascot for a Dutch beer and give the former Dos Equis spokesman a run for his pesos. This man has probably killed a woman from heartache. Her father probably dropped the charges after being promised a throw blanket made from his luxurious locks of Dutch hair.
Bro, Arie Sr., the REAL Arie IndyCar driver won the Indy 500 THREE TIMES. Bruh. Bruh. Bruh.
That is badass and again, I think racing IndyCars is dumb. I like sports with balls. Literally, like baseball. Or football. Or futbol. Just an actual ball. I’m not making a point about manliness to a man who is holding a trophy bigger than him in a Good Year hat that would cost 1,000 bucks in a vintage boutique in Soho. But like, it’s cool when your teammates aren’t mechanics. They are other people who share the ball and attempt to score.
Of course, Arie Sr. scores plenty. Look at that hat. Look at that trophy!
But wow, Arie Jr. Doesn’t growing up the low-res, power-hairless facsimile of a man this good at something explain Arie and why he’s going on the Bachelor?
The Kardashians were there for his dad. Hell, this is so textbook daddy issue I don’t know what to say. That’s Arie IN THAT PICTURE and he’s rocking his dad’s haircut at maybe 33% of his father’s FOLICULAR POWER™.
I feel bad for the guy. His whole life knowing his father was at the top of a sport he only is involved in because his father was at the top of that sport. How many people get to race million dollar cars until they are in their mid thirties before having to become a realtor? Again, realtors are no fucking joke, but when your dad probably has a room filled with VHS tapes of himself drinking milk out of IndyCar trophies using Dutch models (male and female) as a bed, you’re for real stoked to show people track homes in Scottsdale, Arizona?
No. You aren’t. So you cut your hair, let it gray and then keep being on reality TV hoping that pain goes away one awkward “for the right reason” at a time.
But whatever. Arie is here.
He’s “nice-enough” and “has hair” that is “age-appropriately grey” and “wears 2010’s skinniest tie for no reason.” He talks like a therapist who can’t act interested in what you are saying, even though you pay them to listen and care.
But Arie is our Bachelor and we all have to watch and ask ourselves the big question – what the hell is wrong with him? I mean beyond whatever the effect of being the son of a Dutch lovemaking champion who only feels truly comfortable going 200 mph.
Readers. If you were put on TV in 2010, branded to the world as a good kisser, a race car driver and then painted in a sympathetic light because you got dumped on TV – you’d be meeting lots of people. Arie was sorta famous for almost a decade now and he’s still single with only three noticeable changes: he’s graying, he’s not racing in any form wikipedia mentions and he now sells houses for ReMax.
He’s single because he’s either broken, broken, broken, not into girls, broken, boring, broken or an asshole. Or just unlucky. How turned on are you, ladies?
Homie is bad news (even if he doesn’t mean to be).
He dated Courtney (Swimsuit Issues) after friend of the blog and world class lazer tag champ Ben Flajnik did. That’s one way to prove to dad you can finish first.
“Oh. That didn’t make you love me Dad? Fine. I’ll date another brunette. AN EVEN BETTER BRUNETTE.”
“SHE’S A SPORTS REPORTER DAD! SHE REPORTS ON SPORTS! NO? NOT FAST ENOUGH FOR YOU DAD?”
“THIS GIRL IS A MODEL! A MODEL AND WE’RE ON A STEP AND REPEAT FOR A RESTAURANT IN LAS VEGAS THAT HAS FIVE COCKTAIL CHOICES AND THREE HAVE FLAVORED SPIRITS AND ONE IS LITERALLY A “BUILD YOUR OWN” OPTION.”
(I just puked in my mouth a little. How bad was a photo op at this place. Did he have to go inside after and share “A Groupie” with his model date? FxxING help.)
BACK TO BUSINESS…
“Wait. The first girl was a model. Sorry Dad, BRB.”
This girl was more about making Emily Maynard jealous than impressing his Dutch father, which is probably impossible. “Wait. I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU DAD!”
“SHE IS RELIGIOUS AND SAID SHE WON’T EVEN KISS A GUY UNLESS HE’S HER ONE AND ONLY AND I AM THAT, DAD!”
“Lol, JK, Dad. This was who she chose. FR FR. I’m not feeling good about myself. What should I do?”
Oh. What everyone who went on the Bachelor and didn’t find happiness does. Go back on the show and try and fail at fake love for a career.
See. You aren’t alone, Arie Jr. In fairness, Nick’s dad seems a lot more low key than your dragon-riding, lion-maned, probably has whatever Zodiac sign is the best at sex and has the most erogenous zones father.
Arie. When you close your eyes at the strip club, do you see him?
OK. Back to the show!
For Arie’s sake, stop trying to make Kissing Bandit happen. Stop trying to make the fact he “kissed a woman against a wall in 2010” something pop culture relevant in 2018. This wasn’t the second coming of the Spiderman kiss. This wasn’t winning the Indy 500 with the hair of Hercules, a Breck girl and an Icelandic pony all at once (Arie’s dad is rad).
This was a kiss from a man who almost always puts his hands around the woman’s neck when he kisses her like he’s the weakest strangler on earth or a pediatrician feeling a sick child’s lymph nodes. Either of those turn you on, ladies?
If no, read further.
If yes, OMFG you live in a rural area and your husband needs to get checked for diabetes right now. Like, go. If this baby-handed, salt and pepper shaker’s neck squeezes do it for you, your current man, possibly the father of your children, is in need of medical attention because he must look like a close up of Steve Bannon’s skin.
Arie is low-energy, pale from years of being in his dad’s shadow. His eyes are dead from all the flashbulbs going off in his face as his father, a man who once parallel parked a Land Rover in a bike rack without a scratch, takes photos and checkered flags.
Arie creepily stares at the sea of 23 year olds walking into the house like he’s an old person and they are prime rib buffets in Vegas. It’s bad. He’s 36 and drinks vodka sodas in front of women he’s trying to impress. It’s only week one. It’s only week one and I feel like it’s the scenes in the beginning of a horror film where I’m being dummied into liking Arie before finding out I’m not only going to dislike him, I will have to at some point run from him, probably in the dark, probably right as I’m about to hook up with a cute girl (who he also kills). And then run from him again when we think he’s dead.
Wait, I’m supposed to say what happened this episode. Fine.
Lauren shows up in a racecar. Then one Lauren who lifts weights a lot and donates food to the homeless shows up where she meets Lauren, who is a social media marketing manager. Two Lauren realtors arrive and neither discusses real estate with Arie or each other or Lauren, who doesn’t like them already. Lauren is impressed when Arie catches a ball she throws him. Lauren has a hand tattoo. So does Lauren. A Lauren wears a mask for a few minutes. I know, so lit FR. Lauren steals time from Lauren. Lauren is angry. So are Lauren and Lauren. One Lauren is from a town called Weiner. She gives Arie a toy weiner and he gets uncomfy when asked if he already has a small wiener. No Laurens drank too much.
See you next week for more IndyAmateur Jones.