I haven’t checked my blog in a long time. I got tired of writing about college football. Some of it is to do with the documentary I was a part of that chronicles the struggles of players with CTE. I still love watching though. Mainly, though, it’s just that when I started this blog in 2008(?), I was a young, unmarried buck with a screenwriting degree from USC and a job.
Now, some 5 million views later, I’m enjoying Rogaine’s losing battle with the crown of my head and spend a lot of my time on airplanes because I have a career that I love. I feel a deep responsibility to my Bachelor readers though. Every city I go (I see the same hoes), I seem to Kevin Bacon a fan of it. I’ve never taken a job at a new agency where I didn’t meet a few people who read it. It’s a great ice breaker. My job is to understand pop culture and this dumb show is where culture pops.
This may be my last season. I say that a lot, but every year I debate going to live tweeting. I’ll end by saying that all the tweets and comments make it worthwhile, so they are appreciated by my ego. I cry a lot at night.
Real quick. When you log into your blog, you have to delete a lot of spam. The only non spam I got is one of my hottest posts of all time, from an era before you guys read it, where I took on Jack Links beef jerky over a bag of moldy dehydrated cow. Enjoy it here and a picture of me from when I ate non-alcohol related carbs like a coward (ew, gross, fuck you bread). People still get angry about moldy jerky so in 2016, maybe stop being so selfish donating money to Planned Parenthood, cancer research and Autism Speaks and help raise some awareness for moldy beef jerky. To this date, I am the cause’s greatest champion (even if Jack Links is a fine, fine product).
Ben is from Caitlyn’s season and lost because he doesn’t vaguely resemble the byproduct of a horse and Ryan Gosling’s more temperamental brother. He made it to the final three, which he probably describes as “third base” because this man is not a man, he is a man boy, or possibly a teenager with an old soul. Or possibly a ten year old who is wearing his dad’s clothes and shoes and carrying a briefcase of play-doh around the living room adorably.
I love this Ben guy. Why wouldn’t I? I’ve had many friends like Ben and they are some of my favorites. In-N-Out run? Ben, drive dude, you aren’t as drunk as we are. I have to take some shit to Goodwill. Ben, you’re down to come along, right? Your life starts-and-stops when you leave my field of vision, right?
I fucking love those friends. We lose these friends to wives who take over the remote control at some point and you know what? The Bens miss us because when their wives are saying “Ben, want to go to Pottery Barn, there’s a cable knit throw I think would be super cozy” he is remembering when I called him and said “Ben, if you get here in ten minutes, you can drink the remaining wounded soldier bottles of liqueurs we have left over from that party and then go to a questionable strip club where you can get a lap dance like a deer in the headlights and I can psychoanalyze the one in a wig before ultimately puking in the backseat of your car.”
Ben prefers that. Father time does not. Even reading that back, I kind of just want to go to Pottery Barn and get that cable knit throw. Maybe watch some Harry Potter with a hot toddy? Goblet of Fire? I don’t care if Cedric dies, I hate Robert Pattinson. Come on, it’s the perfect mix between light hearted butter beer fun and the beginnings of peril. It’s the apex moment of the series.
MY WIFE JUST CLOSED THE BROWSER.
Ben lives in Warsaw, Indiana which even looks like Warsaw, Poland (on a map)
I mean, minus the famous landmarks of genocide, but likely with a solid amount of anti-semitism. I don’t want to judge. Yes I do. This town is so white it vanishes after a snowfall.
For Ben, “this is America” – because of course it is. For me, it’s where I end up if no less than forty-five consecutive things go NOT ACCORDING TO PLAN™. I mean, I’d rather be in Poland, Warsaw because at least that’s Europe. I could see some paintings and an architecturally significant church or something.
We get to see Ben shooting basketballs on a hoop the producers nailed to a barn some location scout found working on [Insert Nicholas Sparks film].
Holy shit. If Ben had any edge, he’d be a Sparksian hero. Just coined Sparksian™. Take that.
Ben says his biggest fear is being unlovable, which is pretty fun for a guy who is cast in a show where girls go buckwild for the right to love him. In fairness, Ben’s previous biggest fear was not knowing the difference between Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris.
He shows us his high school and a bunch of other shit that made me depressed. He shows us his parents who live on a lake and clearly live to wipe his ass (I actually like this about them). His mother is straight up Catherine O’Hara from Home Alone. I kept yelling “KEVIN!” at the TV.
If nice guys finish last, I get the sense Ben is one of the “nice guys finish first” kinds of guys. I mean that sexually.
There’s a quick brainstorming session with Sean Lowe, Ben Old Balls and Chris from last season. Chris stayed mainly in shape and confirmed he was not here for the right reasons. Old Balls was fine but why are you here? There must be little league or something. I can’t wait to have little league to be at.
And Sean Lowe, please just stop being on television. What the hell is up with your hair? It’s like Grown Sexy is using him for some kind of weird Scandinavian Boy Band cosplay. She was going for One Direction but ended up with Wrong Direction.
I’m going to breeze through the women just because this first week is a total cluster and it’s a marathon not a sprint (it’s hard to sprint through the television equivalent of a river of manure, though I guess it’s hard to distance run through it too).
The Pacific Northwest was being attacked, likely because people in LA are tired of hearing how great Portland is. Well, it is. I won’t live here forever I’m sure, but Portland is pretty great and just because you found a Dental Hyena to wear a big rose on her head and have a face that looks like it is melting under studio lights doesn’t mean PDX is all like that. Just because you found a woman from Seattle who is a chicken enthusiast doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy Mary’s Chicken with flash fried maple glazed Brussels and rainbow carrots with a tall Rainer and a short whiskey up in the PNW. Just because there’s a flight attendant who is claiming to be from California because she won’t claim to be from Portland doesn’t mean we want her back. I have dual citizenship. #RCTID
There’s a mother of two girls who is from Laguna, got a big time settlement (or invented Tinder or something) and seems pretty nice. She probably isn’t.
Caila is pretty ridiculous. She literally dumped her boyfriend when she saw Ben. On TV. Ben, run dude. If the world allowed her on the show, thus confirming that these things happen to people due to the Kahneman and Tversky concept of WYSIATI (what you see is all there is), she is VERY likely to leave you for fucking Batman one day. She’ll run right out of the theatre. Like that behavioral economics reference? I am very smart. I also spelled theatre like a British person. You’d probably enjoy being my friend IRL.
And TWIIIIIIINS. Miller Lite 90s chauvinistic advertising reference™.
They are from Vegas, which is like Phoenix if it got puked on twice as much – which is saying something because I’ve partied at ASU.
They are so, so, so empty-headed but I kind of love them. They finish each other’s sandwiches. Hey, that’s what I was gonna say! Jinx. Jinx, again!
Searching for that pic, I found this card. If you receive it, report the sender to child services or something.
The best was the villain. Some in the room were calling her a drunk Sarah Silverman. But for me, she was Cecily Strong’s Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started A Conversation With At A Party.
Scuze me, Ben. You weren’t looking at me and that’s bad cuz guess what? Eyes are the window to the soul. Soul. Soulmates. Exactly. You’re welcome. And also, get your priority straight. Priori-me, Ben. Whoa. Right?
She definitely was not a choice of Ben’s, but the producers said SHE’S GOLD. Credit to her, she was wasted upon arriving, but kept it at PREMIUM FUNKY™ for a ceremony that ended in the light of day.
I appreciated the girl who hiked Ben a football, but for a brief moment as she bent over and hiked up her prom dress you thought Is this finally the moment someone defecates on television to find a spouse?
Lastly, the Ronda Burgundy, the Austin newscaster. Ben, she’s going to destroy you. She looks like Cameron Diaz in the day but I’m promising you two things. She’s going to be an UGLY CRIER™.
She’s also “quitting her job” to interview at every news station in the country all at once and her acting like you broke her heart is only helping.
See you next week.