I don’t think I can commit to writing about this final week in a normal way. I don’t feel a need to be linear. I think this season has been the worst since I have started watching this show. As some of you have noted, it’s been like pulling teeth to write about any of it. Andi is just slightly too smart to make too much fun of, slightly too put together to put down and so predictable it was like watching a romantic comedy unfold.
I miss Jake Pavelka pretending to like girls and having the occupation “fighter pilot.” I miss Ali making awkward moans and groans and having her extensions constantly look like they were being clawed out of her head. I miss Sean Lowe being a born-again virgin.
Andi is just that girl who went to law school, hasn’t quite figured it out and is dating the same kind of dude over and over. Literally, how many of these people do you know in your life. Some of you may be these people. AND THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT.
Just please don’t go on national television only to take us on a journey around the world so you can find the same failed minor league baseball player from your hometown that you could have found in any bar in Buckhead.
What did we even see? They worked so hard to give us a hook, from the guy who died skydiving to the creepiness of Nick’s scarf game. Blah.
I mean, even Hy, her father, who was great when he told Wapalo to eff off was subdued and kind of basic. I missed Desiree’s brother, I wanted to fly him in just to call Nick a little punk ass and challenge him to a milk chugging and arm wrestling contest and the winner pays for tickets to “dollar vodka red bull night” and “insert inland empire club.”
I enjoyed her sister who I just wanted to get into Bar Method and maybe tell her “I’m sorry you have to deal with this” because I am pretty sure she is the best choice in the family. She just doesn’t have the benefit of constant spray tanning, constant hair and makeup and the inflated sense of importance you can only get from having a coked up Chris Harrison ask you questions about your love life like they are questions about how to resolve the situation in the middle east. In real life, Andi’s sister is the good one.
There was something so serial killer about Nick the whole time, but it slowly got revealed more and more and more and more and MORE AND MORE AND MOAR AND MOAAAARRRR. I mean, honestly the guy looks like a dried up felt tip pen wrapped in the one available leather jacket in Wisconsin. He falls in love with girls in the way only guys who aren’t interested in girls do. He fell in love with the idea of loving a girl. Yes, yes a thousand times yes.
If you asked him his favorite episode of Sex and The City, he’d have an answer. For the rest of us, our favorite episode was the second movie because that meant it was finally, mercifully over. Like this season.
Gut check, can’t you picture Nick abbreviating all his TV shows when he mentions them on Facebook? Like SATC reruns! SYTYCD! I love TV! Then he gets mad at you because TV is “The Voice” to him and he hates you for not getting it. His abbreviations. Abbrevs. Brevs. Evs. Umbrella. Ella. Eh. Eh. O.
I think I just figured out Rihanna.
I feel like Nick Cage in National Treasure, but mainly because Diane Kruger is making eyes at me and Justin Bartha keeps texting me to hang out.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, there’s Crap Leinart. Or There’s Something About Dillon. Like, there’s nothing really wrong with him except he is the male equivalent of a basic bitch. He’s not a bro. He’s just a dude who’s been in so many locker rooms and on so many golf courses that he’s gone taste blind.
His favorite person? His dog. His favorite song? Insert 90s R&B slow jam. His favorite clothing? Shiny golf shirts pre mid life crisis. His favorite meal? STEAK, bro. Just kidding, tacos, but only if it’s Tuesday.
He’s the girl you are so excited is interested in you but then you are like you cannot come home to Mom.
And then when he got engaged he was wearing a suit that was three sizes to small. I didn’t know a man could look slutty in a suit, but he did it. It was so embarrassing. And he was sweating like he was getting kicked out of minor league baseball.
But I guess they are happy, can live in ATL, eat well and fade into a life of being overweight on golf courses. Or divorce. BUT, huge props to Josh for handling Nick’s slut shaming, which shall be the final rant of the season. But first, yes. Josh was a man for not caring. The only anti-dote to slut shaming is saying sleeping with someone doesn’t make you a slut. And it doesn’t. Andi may be a lot of things, but not a slut and we shouldn’t as a society say that about people. Period.
So, Nick was having his crisis and basically outed that they had sex, admittedly in the whiniest way ever. This is crazy because this show NEVER admits it. I mean, Ben Flajnik (who I drank with in Portland this weekend, sweet name drop bro) had his hook up referred to as “swimming in the ocean.”
Nick. I think you have more stuff going on. But in the meantime, note to self. Slut shaming a woman on national television does not increase the likelihood of more women trusting you with intimacy. Or ocean swimming. Sex. I’m talking about sex. Get a strategy. Start from “the opposite of everything you think you should do.”
I’m glad this terrible season is over. I hope Chris the Farmer gets it because I genuinely wanna see how he does. See you next year most likely… But first some housekeeping.
Thank you to my readers on Twitter (who know when I delay a post or cancel one) and just my generally kind readers, but when you don’t write a for a couple weeks, relax. I don’t ask for money, I do this for fun. And it is fun, but when I get “shamed” on my blog, it’s a huge drag. Like when this happens.
I could not agree more. Sure, it’s a bit sad that I’m fired up over a (lack of a) blog about the Bachelorette, but I feel like a fool when I get excited to read Lost’s analysis and then there’s nothing for THREE weeks.
If something’s going on in your life, sure. But another very popular Bachelor blogger, Jen Frase, announced a few weeks ago that due to a family medical situation, she MIGHT not be blogging the rest of the season. And apologized. And thanked people for being great readers. Totally respectful to her readers who looked forward to her column every week.
Whatever, Lost. You’re deleted from my bookmarks. Off to read the other blogs who keep their commitments to entertain us!
How would you know what’s going on in my life? I’m sorry you don’t want to read anymore, but it’s okay. This is a safe place. A happy place.
I’ve always said my readers are my friends. My friends don’t consider the blog my commitment to them. And I don’t think it’s my responsibility to talk about when medical results, business commitments or family obligations kept me from posting about a show I only write about because it is awful. This is for shits and giggles, guys. You can always tweet at me and ask what’s up. Those of you on instagram know everything that’s going on. Sometimes, I am traveling and don’t get to see the show and by the time I do, it’s basically next week. Sometimes, life gets in the way.
I’ve been very consistent for no other reason than I enjoy it. For some six years now. Millions of reads and thousands of readers. It’s just for fun. Let’s let it be that.
So if I keep going, it’s going to be for my thousands of friends who just like reading the crap I write when I have something to say. And to the upset poster I quoted, nothing personal and thank you for reading. I didn’t mean to single you out (and still don’t). It was just a perfect example of the things that make this largely unpaid pursuit so frustrating sometimes.
And by that token, to my USC readers who allowed me so graciously to slip from structured coverage into freeform content last year, that’s why I love you. I’ll be writing this year to be sure, who knows how much or how often, just know that when there’s something to debate, the Bearfighter will be there.
Thanks for another season, hopefully it’s better next year and I want to write. I really enjoy your company.