Sitting down to write this, I have the feeling I have seen described by lots of mommy/fashion/yoga/food/whatever bloggers on Twitter. I feel like I am about to eat a box of unnecessary pastries that I don’t even want that will probably make me sick but I’m doing it anyway because the praise I get on the internet makes it okay.
That’s where we’re at. Happy 2015.
Before I get started, I’m giving a few caveats for the season. I may not post every week, but I plan to try. Fact is, I’m not a scrappy young producer at an ad agency anymore. I’m reaching in-barrel maturation and lots of people need this bourbon. I have a Super Bowl ad campaign to help land. I have to go to Spain and eat all the jamón. Basically, I’m on planes. A lot. And I won’t always write.
I will always tell you. On Twitter. So follow me. HERE. I’ll tell you everything.
OK. Let’s do this damn thing. But promise me one thing…
YOU BETTER WORK BETCHES.
I’m not going to spend a lot of time covering the “live” element of this premiere, because it was so up-its-own-ass that I felt like I was watching a colonoscopy. I guess it was nice to see a ton of pseudo celebrities still have enough time to get on airplanes, fly to the world’s fakest red carpet, dress really poorly and search for meaning amongst people who still have enough time to wait in line to see pseudo celebrities you could easily see by going to [insert worst bar ever] in [insert city].
Andi’s basic bro fiance is definitely not ready to commit to planning a wedding because life is hard when you are NOT A DISTRICT ATTORNEY™, but he is ready to try the cake and food because “you know he can eat” – even though he cannot wear a tie. America, if you are built like a brick, don’t wear a skinny tie. I know James McAvoy wore it well on the cover of GQ and you are basic, but he is 5’4″ and 123 pounds. When this meat bucket wears it, it looks like a half-drained river running through the vast tundra.
Breakup in less than 6 months.
Grown Sexy wore the world’s most ridiculous shawl, it looked like those awful clear umbrellas and the most depressing part was she loved it so much she wouldn’t take it off. Actually, the worst part was that she said her and Sean are “practicing” having kids. No. The worst part was his goatee, comb-over haircut combo. No. The worst is that these people still exist and that people still care. Tim Tebow is the only fake born-again virgin I can deal with, only because the sports media tears him apart. Why am I the only person wishing Sean and Grown Sexy would just go away. Forever.
The red carpet was totally just a big step-and-repeat in a parking lot in Burbank. They weren’t going into an award show. There was no paparazzi. This was a glorified cocktail party at 3pm in the valley on a weekday. That people got dressed up for so they could be on TV again and stand in front of the most desperate form of fan, those that would commit time and resources to attending a red carpet of former Bachelor contestants.
Chris Harrison was wildly snarky, because he is finally blooming out of his cocoon. Soon, the blood bath will begin and Grown Sexy and Sean will wish they weren’t so eager to show up anytime anyone from the show calls them. It’s our fault. We allow them to give relationship advice despite one of them saying “grown sexy” and wearing an outdoor clothing item inside because she thinks it looks good (it doesn’t) and the other who can say with a straight face he was a BORN-AGAIN VIRGIN™. What is the ceremony that makes you such a thing? I just ate too much and wish I didn’t. BORN AGAIN DINNER™. Who wants froyo?
Time is a Fat Circle (Fat McConnaughy) returns and despite getting the worst ratings of any Bachelor premier (maybe it was that whack ass red carpet wax museum), I love this guy. Driving around his town, you actually understand for the first time why a human being actually would be on this show. In a town of like 400 people, how many of them are actually options to date? If you literally know zero women and live on a massive farm in a landlocked midwestern state, you have two options.
The first is this:
The second is a deal with the devil:
Chris needs this show and I think he’s actually serious about finding the right woman. He can dress well (he has good tie to suit to shirt ratio) and he’s rich. Make no mistake, this is not a humble farmer. He owns 6000 acres of Iowa. Chris Soules owns LAND™. Land like Tom Cruise almost died to get in Far and Away. That kind of land. Like, he owns a towns-worth of land and it has zero women on it that he isn’t related to, or judging by the live audience members from his hometown, aren’t obese.
He is here FOR THE RIGHT REASONS™. And he trained for it with CodyCode SeanBro fresh off his WORLD’S MOST PREDICTABLE BREAKUP™ with Michelle Money, who at least got a morning news anchor gig out of going on Bachelor in Paradise, which seems like more than anyone else got (beyond an invite to that whack red carpet in a parking lot).
So, he’s doing his montage of outdoor showering in the newly redecorated Bachelor house (not the mansion). Someone got inspired by Morocco it would seem. Nothing screams corn and soy farmer like a Moroccan tea house.
We got to meet some of the girls and as you know, nicknames not coming out right away. Half these people aren’t people I will ever see again.
There’s Britt who looks like a Bratz doll. She’s also a “waitress” from LA, which means she auditioned for a guest spot on Modern Family and they were like “take it easy, Topanga, are you single?” and sent her on this show.
Jillian Michaels was pretty intense with her cross fit regime and monster traps. Loved her in Rocky IV though. DRAGOOO!
There was the adorable widow who lives in ATX and told us that her husband just died out of nowhere. I had a hard time drinking the rest of my whiskey in fear my own heart would stop, but don’t worry. I just switched to rum (Ron Zacapa, if you must know).
There was one girl who named her son Kale, so we know the world’s ending. That’s good.
There’s a cute flight attendant, but if the Bachelor can film on a plane, why can’t Don REPORT THE NEWS™ on Newsroom?
Bratzny definitely hit it off with Chris from the get-go and her act was pretty worthy of her getting the part. She totally rehearsed, but acted naturally. A real Misener kind of gal. No surprise she got the FIRST ROSE™ and sealed her fate of not ever winning this show ever.
I enjoyed Pam Poovey From Archer, who came out of the car in cowboy gear and then snuck back in the limo in a dress, then proceeded to crush a ton of Jameson, almost pass out standing up and then get the rose anyway.
She didn’t even take the taco for craziest this episode. That went to the Onion Hunter, who, well. Hunted onions. And then found a pomegranate instead. But wow. That’s a special kind of drunk where you can be terrifying without being threatening. Like, to date that girl is to know that there is a part of her brain that only vodka can reach that is incapable of functioning as a human. She’s picking flowers and being amazed by psychedelic fake onions. She will kill you in your sleep.
There was a WWE Diva in Training, which just means surgically enhanced female wrestler. She had the gnarliest pink eye ever. But she seemed nice for a woman who fights for a living.
Kaitlyn was kind of fun with her awesome contrast of skin color to eye color, her extra dirty pick up line and then great ensuing recovery (WHO IS SHE™). But she loses points for having matching bird tattoos on her triceps, something shunned even here in Portland, a city that is famous for putting birds on shit (and coffee and the might Portland Timbers).
The secret admirer was very scary, both in her outfit and the fact she opened her eyes so much I thought they might swallow something. She also lives at home with mom and dances ballet. The look in mom’s eyes was that of PLEASE DON’T WEAR YOUR PRINCESS JASMINE COSTUME SO YOU CAN WIFE UP AND MOVE OUT.
Let’s just cut to the ending.
It was light out. It was FULLY DAYTIME™.
When I lived near the mansion in California, I ran into a friend at Brent’s Deli who works on the show. He was coming from a rose ceremony that had gone all night. I know they go late. I’ve seen random LED clocks reading 3:30am. But this was extreme. Usually the limo and walk of shame is in the dark. This was a daytime dismissal.
There was a long ass crying montage. And then I blacked out. See you next week. Click the links below for updates on when I’ll post.