It’s another week and we’re able to discern some critical new data about the rampart group of menstruating
women in the house. I am happy to see this show is getting back to the idiotic, corn syrupy roots that grew it into the fucked up tree it is. I have high hopes that we’ll have some helicopters and extreme dates in no time at all.
Real quick, one of my pasttimes, in the way old men skip rocks on ponds, is to dog contestants on instagram (not ultimate homies Spivey, Swartz and Flajnik of course). Last night, Kacie B. (or Beyan if you read this blog) threw me a fastball and I had to do what you do with fastballs. You go yard.
Please. Stop putting inspirational quotes on instagram. I’ve ranted on here before about it but if I wanted to be inspired I’d go to the ATM, take out all my money and maybe roll around naked on my bed like Demi Moore in Indecent Proposal. No, I haven’t thought about that before or anything. Cough. Next.
Our first date was with (drum roll)… Lady Tom Brady who did his very best “I like girls” impression all night. Just as I was drunkenly screaming this guy looks like Tom Brady if he was, in fact, a lady someone randomly throws him a football into the Bentley and he throws it two handed back… Like a lady would.
Let’s take a quick step back and talk about the blue Bentley. This is like marrying a super model and forcing her to get fat and have shitty plastic surgery. What are we doing here? The only thing that could crap out that car was dipping it in liquid sour belt candy and congrats ABC, you did it.
Heart Sock or Zoolanderella, whichever you prefer drove her ladyfriend on a road trip around SoCal. I was super pissed because, while I live in Portland, I still have a house in California and I don’t want the property value to go down just because Chris Harrison is too lazy to leave Malibu until they trim the dbags off the show. They went to El Matador, one of three beaches you can often find Lost Angeles at eating a sandwich from the Trancas Market and drinking rum. So much for that fucking beach…
Then they went to Neptune’s Net, which has been a classic Ponzi tourist trap (albeit a fun one) for years. I was scared they went to my favorite place and ruined that too, but they did not. No you don’t get to know it or it will not be my favorite anymore. I’ll tell you off line.
Then they went to Ojai. And then downtown. Wait. NO CHANCE this was filmed in sequence. And there was some Hollywood sign in there too. On the Hollywood sign, Lady Tom Brady told Heart Sock a bunch of stuff my buddy’s sister would tell him around a campfire and then he said some shit about how the Hollywood sign represented her fucking dreams or sailboats or something. This dude needs to be more penis forward. I know ABC deemed this the “for the right reasons” episode, but if you believe in evolution, Darwinism and the continuance of the human race, the right reason is to eventually have sex. Lady Tom Brady has that thing where he stands like a virgin. You know what I mean. There’s a certain slouch that comes from knowing you have at one point successfully hunted a deer. This guy is like “do they make gluten free deer snacks I could buy at Whole Foods?” By the way, they do. I can confirm, I live in Portland.
The thing I learned is that Heart Sock wants to get her face on just about anything. Watching her kiss Lady Tom Brady made me think about that night she got hammered and made out with her best girl friend at a local bar and her brother thought it was funny until his buddies got turned on and made some jokes and then he smashed a bottle of Bud and cut some throats *GAME OF THRONES SPOILER.
Later, Lady Tom Brady got super scared driving around downtown LA even approaching a glowing pink bridge with ten TV cameras chasing him. I don’t know if all the PBR bars in the area or art galleries or fine bedding (Matteo) stores around there freaked him out. He should have been at the Grove.
Then they had dinner and he got the rose. It’s just to damn early to cut a nice guy without Heart Sock looking like a dickhead. If you cut the fat early, this show would be Fantasy Suites week three.
At home the group date was announced and it became clear that all these guys (minus Ben) are in love with each other. I mean, normally this show teaches you that a group of women hate each other and a group of dudes are a fraternity. In this season, this group of dudes cuddle. It’s fun to picture Gabagool (the Italian meathead) being like, “yo, bitches, Mean Girls is on, make some fuckin’ popcorn and stop playin’ grab ass, show LiLo some friggin’ respect.”
The group date was one of the worst in Bachelorette history. We got to see the death of Soulja Boy who at one point actually had a record people listened to, but not can be bought for 10k to do a song called “For The Right Reasons” on ABC (hit the fucking nail on the head some more, guys).
Heart Sock came out dressed as Alexander the Grape, the purple Otter Pop at the Malibu Winery which also doubled for the house robbed in Hangover Part III. This is in Kanan Canyon and five minutes from the Bach Mansion showing again that it’s only the finest for Des. They’ll do it if it’s cheap and within ten miles.
The dudes all had zero timing, rhythm or street cred and whoever wrote the rap, which was so inside it was outside, needs to drink drain-o. In the direct sunlight, the naked guy from week one finally earned a nickname. I dub him Secretly Fifty because in direct sunlight you can tell he’s old as balls.
This dude has all the baby fat loss that actors experience, possibly fake teeth, but definitely whitened. He came off less douchey, but that must have been because he was stoked AARP accepted him for life insurance.
Everything about this sucked. I’m done. If you want someone to talk more about white dudes who can’t rap, read one of the other Bach blogs out there. But you won’t. Yes, I’ll accept this rose.
The night date was comedy because Ben (who I am calling Sunstroke in reference to his son) was ready to talk about his kid some more. I think child services needs to step in. It’s funny in movies when dudes use their kids to fish for women. When you see it in real(ish) life, it makes you feel like an old guy is watching you shower. Not that I know what that’s like…
We also saw no one could master the tie clip, which depressed me. If you can’t use one, you don’t need one. It’s like the new sorbet flavored vodka. If you need your booze to taste like sorbet, maybe you should go right to pills. Just a tip.
Sunstroke stole Heart Sock away from a guy who doesn’t like girls deep in a story about having Diabetes. When did this become a competition of ailments? Such a bad strategy to lead with that. It’s not opening up. It’s saying “don’t send me home week one”. Being that this dude is probably not into girls, he is a genius because he was trying to ensure he got to make the travel team and go to wherever Chris Harrison is meeting his drug mule, somewhere in the Antilles or South America, usually. I’m retiring when they go to Medellin.
Anyway, Sunstroke pulls what is a normal group date move and Diabutthurt gets Gabagool to lead a Juicehead Rebellion. After Sunstoke does some weird “IMMA LEAN RIGHT IN AND KISS YOU” shit and then talks about his son, Gabagool corners him.
Sunstroke talks his way out of it by comparing shoes and making friends, confirming again this is the least straight set of suitors ever to grace the mansion, a fact I am super stoked about. Diabutthurt called out Sunstroke for wanting to “guard and protect the heart” of his son, so I kind of love him.
Wait, this took place at the final cocktail party. I’m out of order. DON’T FUCKING CARE.
Final date is with Zero Dork Thirty, who says like no words at all. Wait, was THIS the road trip date? I am so confused. Oh yeah, maybe because all they did this episode is fucking drive places and have awkward dinners while the dudes at the house tried not to paint each others’ nails.
The gist of this date was that Zero Dork Thirty brought graphic images of a terrible car wreck to dinner, which is fine cuz no one eats at these things, and after Game of Thrones, we’ve seen enough violence for the week. The guy is nice, boring, possibly a 95 IQ and potentially a killing machine.
Des tries really hard to make out with him and eventually just does it herself. I’d compliment his slow roll, but I think he’s just like, slow-slow.
Rose Ceremony, she sends home the sign guy, she sends home a dude I didn’t know was there, and then Bikram Yoga who was so fucking hammered he got blinded by his green shirt and almost walked into the bushes.
Promises of drama next week and no sign of helicopters, but I think this season is working out. I didn’t even have to get the people lined up with their dates correctly. Bless you Chris Harrison.
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