BachCapette Six: Oops.

This is not going to follow any standard format because frankly if the show can decide to run an episode that starts at the previous week’s cocktail party and stops before the third date the following week, THERE ARE NO RULES.

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Full Package just went batshit. I don’t know how in his head the producers got, but it seemed fairly balls deep. He went off on Kaitlyn for being shallow, being classless and not liking him. I mean, did he mention he went to Princeton? That’s a hell of an ad for Princeton, right?

Let’s break this idiot down. He says he is too good for this show, but he’s on the show. He is in no way desperate for women, but he put his life down to go on a dating show. He went to Princeton, but he’s not clever enough to resist the producers prodding him to demand being the next Bachelor. He’s more cerebral than all of us, but he ends his sign off with him needing to get some sex. Exactly what Kaitlyn wasn’t supposed to do.

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Naturally, to be the Bachelorette, you need to be a little more insecure than most of us and so Kaitlyn starts to spin a little bit, but it doesn’t stop her from throwing out so perfectly usable Ahi Kuna and whoever else.

As quickly as they are gone, she’s turnt for DUBLIN, IRELAND. No one more than Nick, who gave me 1.5 hours of television that went a long way to explaining any potential future diagnosis of being sterile. This guy is a virus on society. They need to get him help. We’ll get there in a minute.

Nick is just the most grateful dude to be out of his job again for a moment and on TV again. He needed another 15 minutes of fame. He is, to me, like a friend of a friend’s toddler who gets brought to dinner one night and you are all ready to leave and he’s like 15 minutes more. More. MOAR.

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And it’s not the worst thing in the world. You like kids. I mean, it’d be better if this was your friend’s kid, not your friend of a friend who you didn’t REALLY want to come, but look, being judgy sucks. You can put up with this toddler. You might have a toddler someday and you’d want other people to put up with them. Only then you realize fuck that. I’M READING THE ROOM™. No one cares about my kid. I don’t care about yours. I’m leaving because the parking meter is running out and I’m losing my buzz and frankly, when I have a toddler, I’m putting them in a belltower and turning them into a fairy tale character. I’ll even name them Aesop (the storyteller, not the fantastic skin care line for men and women). My wife just closed the browser.

But Nick’s still here. He’s got 7.6 minutes left. Just ask him.

Here’s the deal with Nick, because that’s all this episode really was. It was a Nicksplosion that made me feel dirty. Before we can understand Nick, understand this. He looks like Peter MacNicol. More than Peter MacNicol does even. Prepare to never look at him the same way again. (you will have to look at him again because I’d bet all the farm land in Iowa that he’s on Paradise).

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Look away. I dare you. Put him in a tight blazer with an unnecessary bepsoke flower lapel he stole from an off-Williamsburg production of the Music Man and it’s MacNicol. All he needs is a creepy painting to worship.

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He stares at the producers the whole time like there are cue cards and he hits on girls in the lowest form there is. There’s all kinds of dudes, but this dude is the kind I hate the most. He’s the standard overbearing dude who cleans up for a hot second because a lot of girls are used to mixed messages. He rolls in, says I AM INTO YOU, YOU MAKE ME LOSE CONTROL and then just kisses you and avoids saying anything else. Anyone read Gone Girl?

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Wow, they even shop at the same library in Nantucket.

Dude, maybe the producers cut every real line out and I recognize how frusterating it must be to be on this show without final cut. But same time, I know Peter MacNicol when I see him.

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So, there was only one way Nick was going to be about this and Kaitlyn is insecure enough to fall for it. It makes me sad because I don’t think she’s a bad person. It makes me sad there’s pretty girls in the world that just want a dude to be clear with them. Nick can come in like the Peter MacNicol version of a romantic comedy, rip off Arie’s wall kiss deal and make it work. We all want to be wanted. But at what cost.

So when the date went, well I don’t know, they made out in front of an old Irish man just trying to drink which to me is more disrespectful than farting in church, because old Irish dudes trying to get drunk at noon in Dublin are the angels of my religious beliefs.

They get back and Nick is like:

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And they have sex.

And here’s where the narrative is going to deviate because what really pisses me off is how many people are going to slut shame Kaitlyn for this.

And they shouldn’t. It’s the worst thing just about that goes on with this show (beyond the fear of diversity).

She had every right to do what she wanted, I respect her for being honest and not hiding from what probably always goes down on the show. There’s nothing “slutty” about having sex on a date. Look in the mirror, Murica.

That said, she ain’t too clever. It’s the choice of who. It’s the falling for a man who brought back a dead warlord in a painting back from the dead by attempting to sacrificing Sigourney Weaver’s baby and causing a river of evil slime to take over New York.

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The fact that disturbed me the most is how in the morning (you bastard bearer of regret!), Kaitlyn is worried Nick is going to tell all the dudes about what she did. She was just saying she trusted him. If you think the dude you are with is going to gossip to a bunch of dudes who hate him about something that will likely make them hate you, YOU DON’T TRUST HIM.

It’s nice to feel wanted. That’s why that geneticist created Labradoodles.

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The next date is at the Guiness plant and Creepin’ Hawke does great and gets a rose. But Gosleech freaks out. And now he’s heading to confront Kaitlyn in what has been a 13 part 6 episode season. I feel like I’m on mushrooms.

Let’s get this moving.

 

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BachCapette Cinco: San Anbronio

We start at the end. Only it’s not like this is Memento or a wonderfully flawed time-travel movie, it just seems like half way thru editing each episode they can’t decide if this is THE MOST™ dramatic episode of the Bachelorette ever or if they should rip a few more tubes and just finished cutting the episode at the last minute. “Bruh, this stuff is sticky and it kind of makes me think we should skip the rose ceremony AGAIN and talk about Kaitlyn and how she looks like an animated starfish.”

The thing is. This is no joke. Chris Harrison did not even show up this episode. I’d like to believe he just took the helicopter from last week and went down Mexico way to mule some horse, but in reality, IS HE TRAPPED IN TIME/SPACE?

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So we kicked off the meat of this episode with a sausage party back at the hotel. Fuzzy Nick was rolling in wearing his fake windbreaker (windfaker™?) and the dudes are sitting around like:

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I mean, is there anything more sad than Nick? He says it in his patented YOUR EX-GIRLFRIEND TRAPPED IN THE BODY OF A MAN™ way. He was bored as hell in Chicago and he was willing to cutesy text with a gullible Canadian for several WHOLE MONTHS™ to get back on TV in the hopes to rid himself of the awful feeling of being the guy who got BEAT UP™ in high school and also PROBABLY NOW™ too.

He is willing to come into a room with a bunch of meatheads glaring at him arranged in some formation that was the direct center between a congressional hearing and the last supper.

Then, he is forced to answer questions so specific, you’d think they all were bloggers themselves. I mean, hell. I have to read another recap while writing this to even remember what happened that wasn’t a helicopter. They were all like “in episode eight of Andi’s year when you were looking out the window with your hair looking like a troll doll with a new job interview hair cut, why’d you say Prague was a romantic city, huh brah?”

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Wow. I mean, I pay (some) attention (attentionesque™) to this show for PURE ADULATION™ from you people. I know I need constant praise or I will die. I’m like Superman (or Wall-E) to the sun with my ego. I admit that.

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Nick just needs to be back on TV because life doesn’t matter if you aren’t on TV. That is sad. This play to be the next Bachelor or to just get a ride on Bachelor in Paradise. Sigh. It makes me feel awful. Nick? He’s like:

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Nick’s responses were the basic bitch kind. She’s a cool chick. Oh yeah? Does she like dope music? Is this club going up? Is it Tuesday?

Hey Nick. Go home and put on some clothes.

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So, in assbackwardsland™ we head to the rose ceremony and Chris Harrison hides from space and time. This ceremony is at Citi Field, home of the NY Mets, who I grew up a fan of before I moved to LA and found the Dodgers like Scientologists find thetans.

I don’t know why they are there. I do know that Gosleech is pissed that he’s not the only Gosleech for her. I know Longbottom carried her around the bases, which will probably be one of the last happy memories he has before the producers let him go home. In the end, without Clint, he’s lost.

Death Cab for Douchie got sent home and some other people I forget. All I know is it looked really, really cold. So cold this became an indoor date. I can’t imagine the “luxury suite in Queens” date was the intention.

Nick looked so sad when they told him the “warm” date was San Antonio. He was hoping for something tropical. DUDE. YOU WENT TO VENICE AND THEY ALL SAW YOUR LEATHER JACKET LAST YEAR. Let it go.

The date is a two step dance contest and Leave It To Beaver is the date. He’s kind of boring. He’s nice. He’s good looking. He’s going to end up losing for being a good guy. Him and Dan Captain America should start a start up of dudes you go to once you are done getting kicked around by confusing, sexually ambiguous guys like Nick.

He blew her expectations out of the water. What that means, I don’t know. Her expectations are amphibious.

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The next date was a mariachi date. The kid who comes out in the beginning was the man. The rest of the show was an exercise in patented BACHELORACISM™.

It’s not so much that exploiting mariachi singers is racist, it’s the way dudes from places like Kuna handle this. It always ends up a bad Speedy Gonzalez impression. I’m from LA. This stuff isn’t exotic. It’s home.  AND WHEN YOU SING LIKE THAT IT RUINS MY CULTURAL MEMORIES LIKE THIS GUY DID TO THE PEOPLE ON PANDORA:

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Fuck that guy.

Princeton Guy got a little intense in his studying and then flopped like a Spanish soccer player. Nick won by being Nick, and going up with Canada to a balcony to sing and dance for the cameras and Katilyn happened to be there too.

It got weird that night when Ahi Kuna decided by way of grain alcohol and sadistic producers to let Kaitlyn shave half of his head. Sweet. He then decided to throw Nick under the bus which led to another GUYS I WANT YOU ALL TO LIKE NICK LIKE I DO speech and I tried to commit bloggercide by chewing on the batteries in my tv remote. Didn’t work.

The dudes all said whatever bro, go home, you’re drunk. Poor Ahi Kuna. He kept it real but didn’t realize you DON’T DO THIS…

Unless you are a Gosleech, who did the same thing and got a 1:1 date.

The Gosleech date was fine. They kayaked and he told her he was in a crazy car accident that missed all his Gosling features. He seems alright. He said he’s falling in love with her and she reciprocated. Appreciate the honesty.

But to keep score.

You can’t talk shit about Nick. Unless you vaguely look like Ryan Gosling. In which case, I love you.

In the tradition of no rose ceremonies, we were treated to some genuine weirdness with Princeton, who is the TOTAL PACKAGE™ – or just a total tool. I liked this guy, but somehow he went rogue and just listed off that he’s perfect, went to Princeton, girls love him, he should be the Bachelor.

At this point, unless he and Nick start hooking up, I’m bored. But he decides to call Kaitlyn a floozy and she doesn’t like it because he doesn’t vaguely look like Ryan Gosling. Or isn’t Nick.

Maybe Chris Harrison can return from space and sort it out.

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BachCapette 4: Nick’s Fuzzy Haired Return

For a show that has no problem having random “most dramatic two night co-premiere in Bachelor history” events, they somehow cannot fit a rose ceremony into an episode. Is there some wild insights team mandating every episode end like a chapter from a tween novel?

Clint told her that he loved her, but he had a secret she didn’t know. He didn’t love anything. All he cared about was his horrible, horrible secret…

Hey, take it easy Twilight Toes. STOP. Or STAHP.

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So, Kaitlyn picks up where she left off, blindly listening to a bunch of strangers she’s made out with. She takes Bill MAAHAHRHRR to task for something, probably being a liar and all of that. He seems confident he won’t get burned alive like a sick child on Game of Thrones (too soon?)

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The beginning of Kaitlyn’s killing off of Clint was no big shock, the sentiment the Clint was sad to leave Neville Longbottom was obvious, but the details of Clint’s exit? NEWSFLASH™.

Possibly realizing he could get caught sleeping with the enemy, Longbottom decides he’s GOING ROGUE™. He decides that guess what – Clint needs to apologize for wasting everyone’s time. I mean, who involved with this show doesn’t. But specifically, his best friend ever on earth, his Bronies Bro, needs to apologize. Clint was in shock. He’d expect this from a girl he was tryna date. But from his one true someone?

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Clint and Longbottom have a very odd, very “are-they-gonna-makeout” argument that covers a lot of things including fashion – specifically – the super masculine “your tie and shirt don’t match” argument – which I agreed with. When Longbottom tried to get his ex-husband back, Clint peaced out leaving his former friend to cry REAL TEARS™ without so much as a chance to say goodbye.

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No rose ceremony. Just a trip to New York City, home of salsas not made by Pace.

The first date was a rap battle with Doug E. Fresh who we were all stoked to see was still alive. There was nothing worse than watching these guys not be able to come anywhere near riding a flow. The good news is that if we needed further confirmation that Bojack Horseman is not even close to Gosling, he was the worst rapper ever and hid behind “I like Jason Aldean” as an excuse. Jason Aldean probably can freestyle. Garth Brooks and the guy Garth Brooks pretended to be for a while can freestyle. I mean, it’s a conversation about rhythm. Fucking elementary school teachers who write dope rhyming posterboards for their classrooms probably have some flow.

Don’t fucking hide behind Jason Aldean.

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Don’t hide behind his dad body. Don’t hide behind his hideous mix of motorcycle couture and puka shell necklaces. Don’t hide behind his pirate hoop earring, bro. You can’t even hide behind his straw cowboy hats OR his leather ones. YOU CAN SETTLE FOR A ONE NIGHT RODEO, Bojack.

This blog. It just made me learn about Jason Aldean. STOP READING PLEASE SO MY EGO LET’S ME WALK AWAY.

In other news, a reader pointed out that it’s not Bojack Horsemen that this Gosling Leech (Gosleech? GOSLEECHING™?) . It might be Alf:

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At the “battle” that was won by no one, not even the viewers, Nick from Andi’s season was planted in the crowd. Apparently he’s been moonlighting as SEXT OFFENDER™ with Kaitlyn. I can only imagine the endless string of “I wish I wuz on ur season” and “shud we do bach in paradise 2gether?” texts this PONZI™ sent her. And guess what? It works on Canadians. Hide your circular bacon.

Anyway, Nick tries to worm his way onto the show and Kaitlyn is freakishly into him. His hair looks like that weird cashmere sweater your 2nd favorite grandma work. As Michael Cera said in blog favorite “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist” – “I asked for the Ellen Degeneres cut” – which isn’t even accurate now because Ellen’s hair game is on fleek now. Nick has 1997 Ellen hair.

I don’t think Nick actually likes this girl. I think he realized life was more fun being talked about in the public eye than ridiculed in private life, which is what I am sure happens to the kind of guy that calls a girl out for sleeping with him on TV after being dumped, stalks her, and says the words “make love” in 2015 in public.

But he’s here, the dudes are ANGRY and Kaitlyn doesn’t care because he has really, really tight windbreaker jackets that break no wind because he unbuttons them basically all the way. The only wind this dude breaks are lonely farts.

Even LONELY FARTS™ don’t stop Kaitlyn from making out with him and giving him the kind of look that clearly explains “I’m not listening, I’m just accepting that you love me and we’re perfect” or in other words – GIRL DATING LOGIC™.

The dudes are all kind of dejected. Alf is thinking about eating a cat. It’s not going well. A rose gets handed out and even the dudes know it’s BS.

There was a one:one date with Creepin’ Hawke who combed his hair, but failed to fully stop the hair virus from spreading across his “beard-like area” – either way, compared to Nick, this guy is the coolest. They go to Met. Kaitlyn is amazed she could like anyone that isn’t Nick, proving again why she’s still single. In ultimate GIRL FASHION™, Kaitlyn asks Creepin’ Hawke about what he thinks about Nick. Kudos to him for being like I DON’T YO.

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Then… They went outside… And…

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HELICOPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And you KNOW they made out because they were in a magical air robot that makes dreams come true. Obviously.

HELICOPTER GETS THE ROSE.

The other group date was a Disney cross promo for Aladdin the musical which is still too soon for me with Robin Williams, but whatever, it’s a whole new world. See what I did there? My wife just closed the browser.

They had to audition to just walk through the background of some shot because despite being a singer and rapper, Kaitlyn is Canadian. Ottawa’s Broadway isn’t NYC’s. Fiddler on the Moose didn’t win the Tonys people expected it to. Or Molson of the Opera.

Ivy Leaguer proved the show’s racism in a way LL Tool J never could. He came out, sang incredibly well in a shockingly humble way. Did he win? Nope. Johnny Depp’s Willy Wonka won, but that was the producer’s wishes to see him in costume coming true. The did is so, so scary. If you are his dental patient, how do you feel about things now? Tooth not hurting as much anymore, is it?

We got to see MESA VERDE™ do a little hairstyling and dish out some advice. This was just so we’re turnt for Bach in Paradise. I am. Why not. At least that show is honest. We aren’t looking for “winners” – we want everyone to lose.

Again, we got no rose ceremony, just the arrival of Nick, who we’re all going to continue to hate because he is the worst kind of bachelor contestant. The kind that won’t let go.

 

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BachCapette THREE: Sumo Booty Blurs

Big week for Caitlyn, amirite?

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You never expect the Muppets.

I digress. BachCap?

So, maybe it’s the bourbon talking. No it’s not. Bourbon can’t talk or I’d have another best friend.

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But enough about me. This episode jumped the shark. Not saying in a bad way. But, there was this shark and the episode definitely jumped way the hell over it.

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I want to underscore the fact it’s now been a whole season without us having a damn rose ceremony during the same episode as the dates. Everything is to be continued, except this series unless they respect format. For a show that GOES CLEAR™ making you TRUST THE PROCESS™, they sure are doing everything in their power to not FOLLOW PROTOCOL™ or show me HELICOPTERS™.

That said, I enjoyed the hell out of this episode. Like David Letterman said when he saw Future Islands, “I’ll take all of that you got!”

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Kupah left. We covered it last week. He wanted to stay. He took his drink with him. Adios.

The first date was that perfect blend of barely veiled racism and cultural exploitation as the “heaviest Japanese person ever” and a champion sumo wrestler showed up to teach the dudes at the house how to fight in the ancient style of half-naked shoving.

In fairness, plenty of these dudes were in frats and speaking honestly, half-naked shoving is not just for sumo. Roll in at 3am on a Thursday to a frat when there’s one box of pizza bagels left in the industrial freezer and five dudes with midterms the next day.

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While I legit belive Knoxville had a ball hanging out the entire time, can we just admit the special effects team went a little slap happy with the blurs? I mean, unless everyone on the show was an adult performer, we’re good with a wide angle.

In the end, this date was about Bill MARHAHRHHRHR proving he was a high school wrestler and just flipping dudes and it was also about Going Clear having a brief moment of rage followed by twelve full hours of hating himself for “showing aggression.”

I hated him for doing this so much:

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Ug. I didn’t even like posting that gif. It was a long segment.

He said some pretty amazing stuff about going to the zoo and that he had a child’s mind, a warrior’s heart and the soul of a gypsy. Who doesn’t bro. Stop being basic. We all have a warrior’s heart. We live in ‘Murica. Land of the Warrior Heart. Don’t front like you’re special. I don’t even order in restaurants. I walk in an pierce the server with my ice blue eyes and they innately know I have a warrior’s heart and in turn, they give me the finest meats and cheeses because they know I got the soul of a gypsy. I got an iPad and a cell phone too.

Meanwhile, someone actually went to Universal CityWalk and we got to see those exact people who are there midday and willing to stand in an outdoor mall watching non-celebs sumo fight. I did enjoy seeing Oh Canada fight and get twirled around.

After that I had no fucks to spare and ignored the rest of this date, especially the out of work actor who acted as the ring announcer who probably went home and told all his friends he “booked a pilot with ABC” – after 17 years living in LA, that stuff makes me cry. Like My Girl. MACUALAY WHY!?!?

My wife just closed the browser.

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In the end Bojack Horseman won by showing BARE MINIMUM COURTESY™ to Oh Canada when Bill MARHAHREHHR decided just to go rogue and not give a shit. Actually, let’s jump ahead to him and Neville Dongbottom’s bromance.

Look, I love how much Clint embraced being an asshole and the bromance metaphor. So much of that was clown shoes faker, but it was well crafted. With the right amount of whiskey and a bright colored pair of Chubbies, two really close guy friends aren’t much different than a really good couple.

Neville and MARHREHE made it hilarious for all of us at home, but not so much for Caitlyn I’m sure. Clint is becoming the WWE Champion of this show, and it’s not a surprise, he’s a wrestler.

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The next date is is a 1:1 with Captain America, who may be a little boring, but I am positive is the only dude I’d roll with. He’d make sure you got in a cab if you blacked out at a bar. He’d get the stage five clinger away from you if you were under attack. Ben is a homie and if Caitlin doesn’t marry him she’s risking getting kicked in the face by Bojack.

Their date is in some creepy warehouse that’s basically the film Saw. Ben says he wonders “what Chris Harrison is capable of” and the answer is ANYTHING™. Honestly, this date was the first time I think we got to see what the show would be like if he had free reign.

Let’s just be clear, this is a pretty fucked up extreme date by any standard. I’d like to think I have WHAT IT TAKES™ but I doubt I’d be super stoked to grab a clue in a puke-filled toilet wrapped with live snakes.

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They eventually get out of Jigsaw Harrison’s fever dream, make out a little and she calls him a MAN SODA™ to which I asked my wife if I was one of those. RESULTS INCONCLUSIVE™.

If anything, I’m more like Chris Harrison. Especially with my A+ suit game. Also I’m so tall. My wife disagrees citing I’m average height. I’m like:

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Captain America gets the rose. In a hot tub. But I don’t think there is sparks. He’s gonna be gutted in a fantasy suite. Just have that feeling.

Final date was teaching sex ed to elementary school kids. In the spirit of the constant shark jumping in this episode, let’s get real. These kids were actors. Some of them were probably like 24. They were the kids Chris Hanson used to catfish bad peeps on To Catch A Predator. I mean, they are at Pinecrest Elementary in the valley, which is where child actors come from. It’s also in a part of town that looks like a man leaping to his death to avoid watching this fake ass date:

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I mean, let’s pretend this is real for half a second. Can you imagine the PTA note? We want a bunch of dudes that are trying to get laid to explain sex with visual aids to your kids. NOPE. Also, how weird is it that words like intercourse and ejaculate get bleeped out? I am lost.

Anyway, Leave It To Beaver (for so many reasons now) wins by being pretty good at explaining sex to young actors and being generally likeable.

Of course, we don’t get a rose ceremony because Clint has to go all super-enemy again and the house turns on him. We end with Caitlyn prepping to confront him.

Whatever. We need a rose ceremony and a helicopter already. But I did have fun. THANKS.

Travelling on bidness next week to NYC so might be a day late on the post. Maybe not. Check twitter. Links below.

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BachCapette Week Deux: Underwater Brotography

Hope you had a great Memorial Day weekend. I spent mine in Bend, Oregon – the place I think Reese Witherspoon had sex with the guitar dude in Wild, but then again you can drink beer in theaters in Oregon so maybe I was projecting. In any event, I sure drank some beer in Bend. Get out there sometime. It’s a fun place to freak out in the forest and just like when I played Oregon Trail in elementary school – didn’t get dysentery. Big win.

Chris Harrison sat down with Canada and her TWIN BIRD™ technology on some nice patio and asked some questions about how Bratzny was doing, but like all of us, she didn’t actually care. What I cared about were two things. The first was the shot of Chris Harrison drinking a giant mason jar of clear liquid with lemons. Sparking water? Maybe. If you know him like I wish he’d let me (Vegas, Chris? I’ll leave my job to be your CMO of whatever you do, bro), you know that was Everclear with lemons in it. Let’s be clear. Harrison was planning to make limoncello for a wicked end of summer party at his crib that is like EDC and Coachella mixed into one and chilled into a jello shot sprinkled with cocaine, but he just couldn’t wait. He drank half-baked limoncello, which for those of you non-amateur mixologists, is just extremely high proof grain alcohol with some lemon peels in it.

In other news, while Kaitlin is adorable and one of the first Bachelorettes on this show that is worth competing for, when she gets excited all her features seem to move in adorably opposite directions like some kind of animated chameleon.

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Speaking of Bratzny, they put her up at the Hyatt in Westlake Village (don’t spring for the Four Seasons a block away or anything) where I enjoyed many a bar mitzvah back in the day. The dude who clearly moved to Nashville to hide from the fact his hometown remembers him as the dude who won Most Likely To Say “Don’t Cry, Girl” To A Girl Who Put Him In The Friendzone in high school showed up to save Bratzny from crying about “coming home” to her mom. She’s an actress from LA. She’s in Westlake Village. Coming home is probably a 40 minute car ride to Venice.

Anyway, this creeper just reminds me of the animated protagonist of Paranoid Android by radiohead:

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Never seen a man so committed to wearing his dad’s pajamas in public. He’s still wearing the beanie they put on him when he was born. His top is down to his knees and you could shoot a basketball through the neck hole. His sweatpants look like he took a dump in them. They are perfect together. Can you imagine a couple that would make you feel better about your life than them when they are next to you at brunch and you aren’t sure if they rolled out of bed or got ready to roll back into it. Please make this segment end.

The dudes are getting ready to go on a date which involves boxing. If I remember anything about Thailand, someone is going to get waxed like a record.

They train in some abandoned infomercial set that some poor bastards from the valley had to lug punching bags up to. Oh Canada looked cute in her boxing gear and thank Harrison they didn’t make her box or act like she’s some secret fight club member. She just watched.

Captain America, the former football player, looked proficient and Creepin’ Hawke’s facial hair (and chest hair) seem to grow in different directions every time they cut to him.

Laila Ali rolled in and in addition to being great looking and the daughter of the greatest boxer of all time, she also was the most badass lady boxer of all time. She would maul any of these dudes and if this show cared about me at all (or listened to Chris Harrison), she’d have fought them all and taught the world a thing or two about equal pay across gender lines because those boys would be writing checks that their asses can’t cash.

Ung. Boxing is awesome.

LL Tool J was super into boxing, but moreso, get got mad thirsty looking at Laila Ali.

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Oh Canada noticed and basically he was cut from the team.

The boxing began and Captain America and surprisingly, Creepin’ Hawke were straight cold cocking dudes. It was all set up for an epic showdown where Cap told Creep “don’t go easy on me” – which was code for I’m going to hit you so hard your beard starts growing in normal.

And basically the fight went like this:

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Creepin’ Hawke caught a rabbit punch and went OUT like a contestant sneaking time with the Bachelorette. Knuckle Sandwiches. OMNOMNOMNOM.

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BELIEVE IT. Actually, homeboy is my favorite so far. He had a tough life without his mom, used that fuel to play football and seems like a pretty gentle dude other than the fact he can kill things with his fists.

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The night date is going well except for the dude in a seersucker blazer and white pants who apparently has a furniture and design company. Yeah. SeerYouSucker more like it. Dude, go back to the carnival and hand me my giant stuffed monkey when I throw a ring on a bottle cap. KNOW YOUR ROLE™.

Somehow on this date, Oh Canada made out with everyone and we found out Creepin’ Hawke was still alive. Win-win.

The 1:1 date was with Bill MMAHAAAARRRRHHHHR. I had forgotten his portrait of Chris Harrison riding a triceratops and while he stole that from my condo, I forgive him because it is art the world needed to see.

They head to a very swanky Hollywood Hills pad based on the stellar view of downtown. Then the world’s oddest eastern European entrepreneur rolled out in a wetsuit with a full photography unit and said the hottest trend in Los Angeles is underwater couples photography.

THANK YOU BACHELOR.

While there’s been no helicopters or repelling off cliffs, I can get down with a weird-ass Los Angeles trend I didn’t know existed. Imagine the terrifying parties that go on there? Coked-up couples showing up at all hours diving in full Gatsby regalia into a swimming pool filled with a Bond villain woman and her team of out-of-work scuba actors with nothing better to do than take pics like this:

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What room in your house do you post these in? I mean they clearly replaced shots like this:beachfamily0003(pp_w916_h609)

 

That’s good, I think? But imagine going into someone’s office and their underwater ballgown spread is framed up on the desk. I’m getting uncomfortable. I’m running.

By the end of this weird fever dream, they were making out and Bill Maarahrahrahr got a rose. Next. And let’s not go back there, kay?

Final date was with Amy Schumer who was hilarious, punking the hell out of everyone as they tried to write jokes. I don’t have a ton to offer because she nailed every joke I was thinking of, not the least of which was the toothpaste colored shirt Johnny Depp’s Willy Wonka had going on. I did legit think Amy and Kaitlyn would be friends as they said on the show, and it speaks well of both of them.

Comedians pretty much wrote the sets and none where that painful, except the one that was like passing kidney stones through both of my eyes in front of the entire women’s locker room at my high school. My wife just closed the browser.

Going Clear, who made no sense at all with all the entire episode, just went on stage and talked about how grateful he was for the opportunity and… Dude, I don’t know. I’m starting to think his mysterious black eye came from tripping on some of his own bullshit. One glass of wine in, he’s Cecily Strong on Weekend Update:

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Neville Dongbottom rolled up and just dogged Going Clear so hard he started eating off a bowl on the floor. He parlayed this later into a solid talk with Oh Canada that landed him the rose…

And turned him into a villain?

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And while the other guys didn’t like Dongbottom for PREMATURE PEACOCKING™ after one stupid rose before a single helicopter has debuted, LL Tool J took the taco with one of the more complicated whiskey-fueled rants I’ve seen.

He gets his one on one time with Katilyn and basically says something a lot of us have discussed, the lack of diversity on the show. He’s saying he’s there to fill a quota, and maybe he’s got a valid point, but he’s putting this on Kaitlyn, who can’t be on that. She’s Canadian. Their bacon is circular. They are color blind. I mean, look at how goofy their flag is? I want to crack it open and dump it on my pancakes.

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So, while I welcome a debate about why we haven’t had a more diverse set of challengers, or hell, a multicultural bachelor or something, I doubt Kaitlyn is that way. Plus, LL Tool J was drunk.

The minute she said it wasn’t working out, he was basically an Usher song about stripping. Not one reason to stay but she was hot. And then, when he had his goodbye testimonial – he tripped enough balls that we didn’t get a rose ceremony.

This season is going to be great. I hate the beginning, it’s too much getting to know everyone. I know that comedians are a good thing on this show. I know the race issue is an issue but maybe not in this case (or the producers did a good job faking the story), and Dongbottom is so pissed he was in Gryffindor he’s trying to be in Slytherin.

Let’s not TBC next week. I feel like I’m jetlagged. Also, fuck. Helicopter.

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BachCapette 1: Short, Late, but Probably Great

Dusted off the blog from my brief slumber in my executive waterbed. Deleted a bunch of comments. Cleaned house. And then had travel to LA and NYC for work. While none of this is your problem, my life in 2015 is a lot different than in 2008 when this blog started. I’m a lot taller now and well, I work a lot harder (sorry 2008 employer).

I tried to watch the episode tucked away at the Sunset Marquis, but turns out I wanted to be in Los Angeles more. I tried to watch it in the East Village, but turns out I had too much work.

This one won’t be my longest post, but I want to get it started so we’re on track for a great season. I love the Bachelorette. It’s what got me started on this existential journey that proves I hate myself.

I got home to PDX and over two nights conquered the awkwardly sliced up two-part episode. To put it clearly, you can’t just cut a show just anyway you feel like it. Would you cut a sandwich like this?

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No. You wouldn’t. Bachelor, if you were a sandwich, we all know what you’d be. You’d be this sandwich. Claro que si.

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So, from the beginning I hate Bratzney still. Not on a personal level, I just hate when actresses get on this show. When you are used to playing a part, you figure it out and try to make it normal. I need you to be the opposite. A regular human being who is being thrown into the end of an Indiana Jones film where you walk down a tunnel and this happens:

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I got the cold sweats when Chris Harrison popped out in a three piece suit. I know the 90s are back right meow but now I realize if he’s doing this, well, I need to. If he told us that it’s hip to be square, I’d be at Barney’s being like “MAKE ME LIKE THIS”:

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So we met some of the dudes. I remember a guy who is an impressive welder and a terrible dresser who like everyone from a small town, is obsessed with saying the name of his town. In this case, Kuna. Wherever that is, it looks like a fat dude’s speedo:

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Idaho? No. YOU DA HO, Kuna. I’m calling this guy who dresses weird, but welds like a champion Ahi Kuna. Not because he eats that, but I know most of my readers do. Sup girls, pinot noir rose? Of course we are. And some semi-soft raw milk cheese that doesn’t even get  you fat at all. We’re so in sync. Take an uber over. My wife just closed the browser.

Then there was Detroit guy with the cute kid who looks like John Legend if he was always asking a question. I give you All Of Me?

There’s the former Princeton track star who got severely injured and has had to rebuild his body and now has a good job, a cool scar and a thing for Kaitlyn. I’m calling him Nicholas Sparks because when Nicholas Sparks sets out to write a novel, he tries to find stories like the ex-Ivy League athlete who was nearly killed and now just needs the love of a goofy Canadian who is so approachable and beautiful, but maybe doesn’t know it yet. So fuck THIS WHOLE THING™.

There’s that one dude who looks like Johnny Knoxville failed a Jackass stunt and took a cannonball to the forehead. Cannonball Knoxville, why not. It’s early in the season.

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Ok. Let’s address the Gosling in the room. It’s the guy you all think looks like Gosling. The first thing you need to know is you aren’t going to date the real Ryan Gosling, anyone who looks like the real Gosling knows this because someone has told him that and he’s gone and went for the haircut, probably spent a month perfecting it. He’s watching Drive and the Notebook to get the shit together. He’s learning the Dirty Dancing move. He’s doing a lot of things preventing him from the things that would actually make you really like him. Say, working hard at a career to provide valuable resource, earning the trust of other men, developing a personality and sense of humor instead of a vague resemblance to Ryan Gosling. Look, I like Gosling fine. I’m sure we’d get along better than a dude trying hard to milk looking like him. Have you ever thought about how Gosling probably thinks dudes who try to look like him are huge, huge tools? Gosling just closed the browser.

So, no. I’m not giving this guy, who is totally going to ruin Kaitlin at some point, any Gosling credit. Not even a bit. Instead I’m gonna make a different point. This is Gosling:

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This is the dude you all think looks like him:

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And this is fictitious animated horse Bojack Horseman:

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If you like Gosling, stop giving people working hard to grift off him credit. It’s not that this guy doesn’t look like Gosling, but he also doesn’t not look like an animated horse too. So, I’m repping my bro Gosling and ending the trend of the world letting men milk their vague Gosling game. This dude is called Bojack Horseman.

Let’s see. Rapid fire.

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Johnny Depp’s Version of Willy Wonka.

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If Bill Maher took steroids he’d be this guy, Bill MAAAAARRRRRHHHRRRR.

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Death Cab for Douchie.

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If Jim Carrey dressed up as Neville Longbottom for a movie. Longbottom Ventura, Chick Detective.

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Ethan Hawke if he collected his toenail clippings. Creepin’ Hawke. Hoping he’s gone Before Sunrise. See what I did there. SYNERGY™.

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LL Tool J. I did love how this dude just gave play by play the whole night as if there was anything hard about what was going on.

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Going Clear. I mean, just because. Take it easy, Miscavige.

Look, clearly Kaitlyn was going on. Clearly this season is going to be great, she actually talks about having sex on the show not in Bachelor code Latin and there were more dudes crying than at the end of Terminator 2.

It’s a long weekend. We’re caught up. I missed some stuff like the drunk dude who just kept quoting Swingers and some other stuff. There’s more to cover. And we will. Just not now. I need to drive to Bend, Oregon and drink all of their beer and eat all their woodland creatures. Like America wanted me to.

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Follow me at the links below because you’re gonna wanna know when I don’t post, have business, partied too hard. Plus, it’s so nice to be friends. Let’s remember the social part of social media. High five with patented FRIENDSHIP™ technology.

Good to see you again. Drink your caffeine. Gonna be a long season.

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BachCap Finale: Nothing Corn Can Stay

It’s hard to write about this traditionally at all. This episode was not funny. It was not a bad episode either. Bear with me. Bachelorette will be easy to pick apart, like a Whole Foods rotisserie chicken once it’s cooled. This one, not as much. Think of it as a see you later. Not a goodbye.

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The battlefield was set. We had a woman on a mission to find a man and a family. And a woman who was a on a mission to barely be able to move her facial muscles.

Fertility Nurse has developed into the most deserving human ever to compete on this show. The only thing that would make your root for her was if she saved a puppy from a burning building after stepping off a plane from serving in Iraq.

She rolled into Iowa in a flannel dress that said conservative on top, party on the bottom. It was the mullet of farmland couture.

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This couldn’t have gone any better. She was on a mission. She could have been a White House press secretary. She was on point. I need parents. I’m crying at dinner. YOU ARE CRYING AT DINNER. The kids started crying and they didn’t even know why yet. The eight zombies in downtown Arlington started crying blood. It rained. Someone found an image of Jesus’s face in a loaf of bread and started a museum and got on Good Morning America.

That’s how on point she was. America was like:

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You get to a point where you need her to win. If she doesn’t win, this is a woman with no parents going back to Chicago to help other people start families after being dumped on national television in a barn.

Like, that shit is colder than an Iowa summer. She is from the land of bourbon and baseball bats by way of one of America’s best cities.

His family is totes mutual. They basically feel that if the other girl isn’t the offspring of Ronald Reagan and Princess Di, she’s a bad decision.

His brothers make a rational case. His sisters do. And they are rational people who live in Chicago FOR SURE. Still, Chris is like:

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He has a thing for Becca Botox and he can’t shake it. He can’t shake it because he is being “dickhead guy’d” and as a man, he is not used to it. Ladies out there, this is what it looks like in reverse when a guy is “super down to hang” and knows “you have a great thing” but is not ready to do “anything normal people in love do” because he “doesn’t know what love is”.

Yeah.

If you think about it, every time Becca and he talk, it’s like this:

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I’m not calling it a ponzi, but I’m being serious when I say that she’s in San Diego enjoying her veneers and inability to wrinkle or show emotion due to bacterial face injections and not figuring out how to be in love. She is in a town of marines. I KNOW THIS GIRL BECAUSE I KNOW THIS GUY.

Actually, most of the girls I have come across that were like this are still single and getting older. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Marriage isn’t a right of passage or a thing to do. It’s about what you want from your life. If you don’t want those things, that’s totally cool. But unless you want-want them, it will always be easier to be like NAH. There’s never a convenient time to split your life down the middle and violently compromise forever. It’s awesome, but it ain’t for everyone.

IT IS FOR EVERY BACHELOR CONTESTANT THOUGH. So there’s THAT™.

Becca is just sort of vaguely floating along like the amoeba she puts in her face with needles. I’m serious, why doesn’t her face move?

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To be fair, Becca is nice and great looking. I just think she doesn’t move her face a lot. Not a requirement to be kind or beautiful. This sentence brought to you by Dove. My wife just closed the browser.

Becca did great with the family, but the real star is Chris’ mom. She’s a peach. She’s as real as the corn in their fields.

Chris goes to her hotel to beg her to love him and she won’t budge an inch. Chris wakes up and knows what he must do. He gets rid of Becca and proposes to the world’s most freaked out Fertility Mouse in a barn that is decorated like Morocco, like everything else on this show. MOROCCAN BARN CHIC™, NOT coming to a West Elm near you.

Let’s just cut to the big thing because it doesn’t matter. They are a great pair. Once Chris is eliminated from Dancing With The Stars in week one, he will go back to buying farms for a leading GOP land buyer. Yeah, he’s a farmer. But he’s really a land baron. Whitney and him will be happy. This was a great season in it’s own way.

What I need to know about now is the two Bachelorettes.

Instead of belaboring the point, I’ll instead say thanks for reading, sorry this one was short and not funny, blame ABC (but thank them as well) and when spring has sprung, I’ll see you on your Tuesday mornings and do my best to make you SPIT COFFEE ON YOUR KEYBOARD™ and make my lovely wife CLOSE THE BROWSER™.

It’s been the best. Have a good break until Bachelorette. I had the most fun in years this season. That’s all you guys. We’ll have some more fun soon. Thanks for always spreading this around.

Love, Z

I give you all my Seal of Approval™.

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I’m Posting On Wednesday

Sorry folks, I have to watch on Tuesday, so I’ll put a cap on this Wednesday. Until then, stare at this:

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BachCap 8: The Curse of Monkey Island

Hey Girl.

I know you know what time it is. Let’s not kid ourselves. We know what’s in that little envelope and you didn’t need a key. You just need to knock, girl. I know you’re coming. I got a bathtub x hot tub collaboration project in a private patio filled with tropical flowers. I have candles scented with the same scents that exist in the local flora. Girl, I’ve thought of everything. I even have a totally see through curtain we can close so the giant camera crew outside thinks we’re just wrestling. But we’re not wrestling, girl.

We’re in that fantasy suite. Thanks Chris Harrison. I’ll think about you, not golf, when I test drive one of three of the people that may be my wife.

And I really hope it’s you girl.

XOXO GOSSIP ZACK™

OK, that was fun. Hope you are sufficiently preheated. I know I am. Shwee BachCap? Cool.

We’re off for the FAHN TAH SEE SWEETS date in (well, on) Bali, which isn’t just a place Instagram models go, it’s actually a province and island just off Indonesia that also looks like a fish carrying a tiny briefcase and swimming over a pineapple:

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The first date was with O Canada and despite the required island date nuclear fallout spray tan, she was looking good. I mean, blue eyes really pop on orange colored humans:

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This was your standard issue be offensive to locals date except for the one killer add they had, having a farmer play with monkeys. Monkeys are the best. They are the helicopters of animals. They are not very far from humans and so I know these monkeys get the situation. They have opposable thumbs. They have little furry human faces.

What’s the point? They are jumping on Gigglepuss, they are pissing on his, they are doing some messed up shit to warn him. They have an opinion on who he marries and they are gonna let him know. A MONKEY WARNING™ is serious. It’s more serious than when your drunk friend takes you outside at a bar to have a meaningful conversation and it turns out it’s really an extended CIGARETTE BREAK™ and you are their LONELINESS SHIELD™.

O Canada doesn’t like monkeys and if that’s true HOW CAN SHE LIKE ARLINGTON. That was the gist of this episode. Arlington, to me, is like Hades. It’s the afterworld. Poor Gigglepuss is pretty insecure about his farm life. He needs answers.

Caitlin is worried about opening up (her heart, not her clothes, she’s ready for that part). She decides to go for it despite the humidity of Bali wreaking havoc on her Canadian highlighted hair. Everyone is sweating, even the monkeys who are so human, they’re just like “we know better than to wear clothes, just be in Bali, don’t be uptight.”

She’s falling in love. He’s falling in love. INTO THE FANTASY SUITE for CONTRACTUAL FORNICATION™. Seems like it all goes according to plan, save the fact it’s sweaty and they both probably smell horrible.

Fertility Mouse gets the second date and my main takeaway, besides her spray tan literally being a color MAC would describe as BRUISED PEACH™, is that she probably attends bar method. I mean it looks good. That said, I was personally turned off imagining how many bikinis she had to try on to get the meticulous look she wanted. I can hear her losing her cool at some Chicago clerk all “I make babies in test tubes, surely you can find something that makes it pop up there but doesn’t scream ‘I’m easy’.”

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Chris doesn’t seem as into her on the boat, but I’m realizing it’s again because he is scared of the winter cage he is asking these women to live in. He’s literally like – if you want a coffee, you gotta drive – if you want humans, you gotta drive – sometimes, even to drive – YOU GOTTA DRIVE.

Her concerns are the opposite. Did her sister kill her chances? Chris, being a reasonable smart dude, knows this is of no concern because if they got married, the forecast for Whitney’s sister visiting Arlington is cloudy with a chance of no-fucking-way.

Finally, the rubber meets the road (is that a fantasy suite pun? discuss in the comments) (also I’m talking about condoms. condoms) and Whitney says what every man thinks they want to hear which is “I will quit my job for the sole purpose of having and raising your children” – yeesh.

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I’m sure after that, the fantasy suite went well. Would be shocked if she didn’t “win” – depending on how you define victory.

Final date is Secret Virgin. They get along great, but let’s just cut to the chase. She’s just mad awkward. She’s not waiting until marriage. She’s waiting until middle school. She’s worried about telling him.

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I get that. Chris has had sex with over twenty kinds of farm animals and two other human women (with monkeys watching) and she’s got no idea what that means.

Eventually she comes clean and it’s totally fine, but internally she’s thinking tonight maybe is the night. I got pretty excited something good was going to happen, only it was a total bait-and-switch.

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We cut to the morning and she’s walking the beach, he’s longfully staring. Basically, she must have told him she isn’t totally in love, she isn’t sure about marriage and his child bride scenario is in jeopardy. He has no idea what to make of things and well, neither do we. It must have been really long and boring because it seems like a gaping plot hole (stop giggling) and yet they found a way to not turn it into a whole long thing worthy of a three night most dramatic special event episode of the Bachelor ever.

Real quick. ONE YACHT? NO HELICOPTERS? Come on. Also, that yacht looked in ill repair.

Anyway, rose ceremony happens and he takes Secret Virgin out and she says what she needs to say to get the rose. Now, Canada lost like the Maple Leafs.

She’s gonna be the new Bachelorette. Kinda feeling that way.

And why shouldn’t she be. She’s cute. She’s funny. She’s a pretty crier – minus the QUICK FROWNS™ that make it seem like an instantaneous bout of constipation.

We love you Caitlin. Good luck.

BACK TO IOWA FOR THE MOMENT OF TRUTH.

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BachCap 7: These Things Are Multiplying

So, my wife went out of town and since she’s basically the glue that keeps this thing together, I naturally took most of the week trying to watch this show in bits. This was in between working (on ads), finishing my half empty bourbon bottles (spring cleaning), and dropping Oxford commas (see what I did there).

The point is, much like the Bible, your US History textbook, and the screenplay for Braveheart, I’m writing about these events a long time after viewing them.

Hang in there. Don’t tell me “you forgot about the part where” because – YES™- I did forget it. So should you. It’s friday, start with a cocktail.

Anyway, I have my velour jumpsuit on. Just did a bunch of push-ups. Wanna BachCap with me? Of course you do, you saucy minx (Love Actually, 2002).

For no reason at all, probably something dreamed up on a vision quest on peyote in Joshua Tree, Chris Harrison instigated a Chris Tells All. Let’s be fair. Is Gigglepuss capable of not telling all? He has patented FARM HONESTY™ and pretty much just says what he thinks. He has dismissed not one, but two potential serial killers (Mail Chimp) and been pretty calm about it. I guess dumping MESA VERDE™ isn’t any worse than putting a horse with a broken leg out of it’s misery in a deserted town in Iowa.

Holy shit, is MESA VERDE™ actually Arlington? Is that what she was saying?

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To paraphrase, Kelsey is still nuts and to use the parlance of her times, she’s gonna get “crucified” at the Women Tell All. Hey invited Moms and Single Ladies. Don’t sit in the front three rows if you don’t want blood on your pantsuits and statement piece necklaces. Like Sea World.

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Also, Andi cried to make me care and I didn’t. I said she was going after a meat popsicle. She said she shouldn’t go after a meat popsicle. And when he ended up a meat popsicle, she cries with heartbreak. This patented SORORITY LOGIC™ is usually the most important class ladies take at college. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Didn’t fool me and still did it anyway? This is like putting your junk in an electrical socket. Even if you find a way to do it, you know you’re into 50 Volts of Electricity.

In other words, don’t feel bad for Andi. If she wanted to get over it, she’d stop giving interviews about it. Mend like the rest of us: binge drinking and making bad decisions. Also, Häagen-Dazs™.

We live in a world where Uptown Funk is popular. Trumpets are cool again. Andi, figure it the fuck out. Sorry. Can’t wait til you launch a lifestyle yoga pants line on Instagram. [FACESMACK]

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Basically, this is the Come to Jesus episode but by Jesus I mean Arlington, Iowa. We’re going to truly see what a brutal existence it is to live in a small town. The thing is, the town isn’t small. It’s barely a town. I mean, I’ve travelled all over this country for work and stayed in some pretty random tiny towns, but they usually have a gas station or Quiznos or BUSINESS THAT IS ACTUALLY OPEN™. This town doesn’t. No one can hear you scream in Arlington.

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This is the town. There’s the church. Gigglepuss HAS to be a Methodist because he has no other options beyond HOME SCHOOL CHURCH™, which if it exists is more depressing than dating your sister, which is also an option for him in this town.

I mean, the town literally looks like a bird trying to fly the hell out of Iowa.

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So, while Des Moines seems like every city, complete with bridges, riverfront areas and restaurants with wine racks. But I blame none of these girls for tripping out when they saw that there isn’t a Starbucks in this town.

Think about that.

Look. Arlington, Oregon has less than 500 people to and despite looking like a ferret drinking water from a water fountain.

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Despite all of this, it still has an AIRPORT and GOLF COURSE, even if the golf course is located in said ferret’s ass. Hopefully it doesn’t have 18 holes.  My wife just closed the browser.

Anyway, Jade knows she needs to let Gigglepuss know she got naked for money because at some point he may Google her. In fact, best line of the season came from Cruise Ship Singer who said, “Hey Mom! Don’t Google my wife!” – REALTALK™.

The thing is, despite being really good-looking (dare I say good looking enough to get paid to get naked), Jade is super embarrassed because the way her Dad found out she posed was when his co-workers told him. I guess dudes in Nebraska are pretty open. How’d that talk go?

“Uh, hey Jim. Last night I was perusing some of the amateur teen-focused pornography I like to please myself to and I noticed something strange. Thing is, your daughter was posing nude. I mean real nude. Don’t get me wrong, she looked beautiful in an I-sit-on-top-of-motorcycles-in-boot-ads way but I just thought you should know. Also, Jim. I didn’t enjoy it. I swear.”

So, yeah. I’d have a complex about that too. Also, good job Los Angeles. Another one bites the dust.

Jade’s one-on-one is really just ruin porn in Arlington followed by a depressing high school football game in the fog where both teams wore the same colors because there are two big requirements to living in Iowa: Always share colors with University of Iowa because there’s nothing else to get stoked about and being uncomfortable with change.

The next date was Fertility Mouse who got to go to some museum that led to a photo shoot of them kissing in post apocalyptic daytime Des Moines (good band name). They should just get married, I’m bored even talking about them. She’s the exact human who could live on a farm and just be glad to have family. I know next week we’re gonna pretend she needs her career, but like:

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They come out and there’s some street art of them making out which is great except the girl doesn’t even look like her. Then again, if you are willing to move to a town without a Starbucks that looks like a bird for love, you are used to putting yourself second.

Meanwhile the other girls are driving to scout out Arlington and yep. It still sucks.

Bratzny is super hardcore about hating it and then makes up a bad script (she’s used to them from being a bad actress) about sunset and like, birds and magic about how she can see herself there. Which makes the other girls, especially Cruise Ship Singer flip the eff out.

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Long story short. They go play hockey. Carly calls out Bratzny. Chris takes the bait. Bratzny wigs out. Carly goes Highway to the Friend Zone.

Carly and Bratzny pay the ultimate price for their interaction. You never survive being fake on this show. You also never survive being the one who calls out the faker. It’s eye for an eye. It’s Shakespeare, only the version written in crayon and using small words.

I enjoyed watching Bratzny cry, not because I hated her, but just because I like thinking about how she thinks it will lead to acting gigs. It won’t. The only time we’ll see you is when they trot out former “stars” on the red carpet in a parking lot in Burbank. Dream big.

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Becca’s hometown is pretty basic. She’s a virgin. It pisses her sister off big time for some reason. Next.

O Canada’s date was boring. They rapped. Sort of. She’s cute. Next.

Moment of truth for Jade. Her whole family is calling her a wild mustang. Chris is confused. He keeps saying she’s a hot mustang. I get he’s turning a phrase, but he’s a farmer and it sounds like he wants to bang a horse. Sorry.

Her brothers are very foreboding. Finally, it’s time.

Chris, I got naked in Playboy (amateur). Chris is fine even though the light left his eyes and she immediately became dead to him.

It’s just how weird the next part was. Much like other producers convinced her to pose for Playboy, these producers convinced her to make Chris look at her photo shoot. AND A VIDEO.

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He acts cool, but she’s already dead.

Last date is Fertility Mouse and they do the ole pretend-to-make-you-masturbate-to-donate-sperm routine. Classic.

Then they go home and the main takeaway is that her sister is overprotective, even more of a human mouse and hell bent on throwing shade on the farmer’s crops. But I get it. And at least later their dog humps a toy and then drags it around. Who doesn’t like that.

Rose ceremony. Jade’s gone. ONTO THE TROPICS (and my weekend).

Luego.

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