Category Archives: Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap #2 and #3: Late but Lovely

QUICK UPDATE – This is two weeks in a row so we’re caught up. Enjoy.

Warning. I’m coming off a FULL BLOWN HUSTLE™ at work and then went to see Book of Mormon. The net result was the bourbon gave me two blissful hours of sleep, but then I woke up, watched a personal marathon of Rick Steves Europe (wait, you guys don’t do that?) and never went back to sleep. I guess what I’m saying is prepared for TERRIFIC SPELLING™.

I always enjoy that first shot in the mansion when you see the room and there’s like ten extra NINJA BABES™ who somehow snuck through all the cameras week one and are being primed to exist in a larger capacity going forward. I mean, to manage to get through all those cameras without being seen, even with editing, is just totally like when an art thief has to capoeira dance through a laser field.


Who was the choreographer who came up with that? We all blindly accept laser dancing as the way to steal something valuable. Why is it never just a wall of lasers? Catherine Zeta Jones’ butt gif (see above) is probably the answer to my query but I’m too civilized for that. I’m not going to stop questioning the world just because Gordon Gekko’s wife uses her butt to rob things.

What were we talking about?

So, the world’s least controversial Bachelor who I’m calling Benilla™. Benilla Wafer is too far because those are interesting. They are great. They are the cookie you forget about (unless you are a freakshow banana pudding enthusiast) and then end up going wire to wire on the first whole box you see.

He’s just straight up Vanilla in the form of a man. And not the old world Vanilla is valuable way. Vanilla like the sad bastard cupcakes in the Sprinkles box that even your co-worker MOST LIKELY TO EAT THEIR FEELINGS™ leaves on the table.


By the way. We’re definitely referring to his junk as Benana when the fantasy suites happen. Although I’m sure he’ll just respect them to death and be thinking “boobs are cool.” Whatever. I’ll be drunk.

The group date is at a high school. The first episode was all about how high school was where Benilla’s best memories come from. I was homecoming prince twice. I was president of the high school. I played sports. High school was great, but if I ever refer to those days as in my top ten, please mercy kill me. I ate a piece of bacon with hot sauce on it during an Arsenal match last weekend that probably was better than all of high school blended with a scoop of protein and some almond milk and some overnight oats. I’m married, btw.

So, yeah. Man boy had a group date in high school and the wicked ride Harrison took us on was nothing short of the beginning of every jock/cheerleader porn premise.

They had to make Benilla’s volcano explode in what was the least subtle visual metaphor ever. They bobbed for apples and debated girls with lacking MOUTH SKILLS™ (their words, not mine).

There later is a mandatory race between Amber and the Portland Dentist. She, being of Oregon, home of the best runners on earth, wins. Benilla is pretty excited because because this Dentist has a super power. In some lights, she is attractive. In some lights, her faces appears to be melting. It’s right out of Seinfeld.

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Girl You Wish You Weren’t Talking to at A Party, Lace has some A-grade meltdowns here. She’s in this weird, drunk state where she’s stealing Ben to chew him out about how he needs to get to know her and then delusional in thinking they are about to kiss. She’s good TV. Still, the look on Ben’s face whenever some girl “steals” him away is the same face you make when a meeting you’ve been dreaded is suddenly canceled. And then you go to happy hour. And score a phone number and find a fifty dollar bill on the ground.

The 1:1 is Caila, the girl who got messages from her television about dumped her boyfriend and going for Ben. The Television Whisperer™ who always makes the same faces The Little Mermaid makes when she learns something new about people who live on dry land.


She is going on a date around LA in what is arguably the most depressing cross-promotion we’ve seen so far on this show. Often, we get some kind of loose thematic tie in – like, this Pixar movie is about being Brave and so we’re doing Scottish stuff and being brave. Fine. Kilts are and always will be good television.

But RIDE ALONG 2 is the film and so the date is we’re just going to go on a ride and then make a random stop or two? And worse, we got Kevin Hart and Ice Cube to do this. I love Kevin Hart and Ice Cube, for different reasons. But the last thing I want to see is Kevin Hart trying hard to make this not suck while Ice Cube cringes hoping this shit ends soon.

Want to know how I know Tupac is really dead? Because Ice Cube was on The Bachelor. If he was still alive, he’d have Tweeted a threat. Minimum. MINIMUM. Is minimum a palindrome? No. Damnit. This day just keeps getting worse.

I got a solid laugh when Ben and Ice Cube go into the liquor store because Ice Cube said some pretty funny stuff, but then I just got sad because they didn’t pay any of this off. They just went to a hot tub and waited for Tupac’s hologram to come in and fight all the producers. Straight Outta Whackton.

The next date was with a Love Doctor and suddenly I thought we were on some Bravo show you didn’t know exists and then your relatives from Missouri can’t stop talking about it and you are like WHAT FUCKING PLANET DO I LIVE ON? You drink a lot of wine and don’t care about being judged because they are there raving about Chipotle and Love Doctor on Bravo. You’re safe. Open another Pinot Gris. No one’s counting.

My wife just closed the browser.

They dressed all the girls in futuristic white outfits and started doing a bunch of tests that proved some pretty scientific stuff like “do my eyes go right to Ben’s junk or Sean Lowe’s” – a pointless question. My eyes go to the circuit breaker and the exit route. Eff this date.

Olivia was unbearable here. Despite being I think what’d we’d all agree is traditionally attractive, she has two minor affectations. The first is she is constantly in ACTOR POLISHED MODE™ – for those of you with actors in your extended circle, you know what I mean. It’s like, I asked you how your salad is, why do you sound like you are selling me a George Forman grill in an infomercial. Just talk. This salad is honestly surprisingly impressive. I am not used to salads this good this far east of La Brea. I have been sleeping on this! Oh! How is yours? I’m not normally a fan of kale caesars, but let’s be honest, society can’t be wrong, am I right? Let me pretend to have a bite. 

The second affectation is her terrifying, insane eyes wide mouth expressions. She’s the world’s first person to have a dentist told her “open less wide”.

Mouth closed, mouth smiling, she’s definitely attractive, so not picking on her there. It’s just when she does this:


…She starts to look like the evil mermaids from Harry Potter…


So, yeah. Try sleeping after that.

She wins the date and spares us from Ben smelling a bunch of girls butt’s like the golden retriever he is. I felt bad for the lawyer, who seems like a good person, because he said she smelled sour. On national TV. And then later said she smelled like passion fruit. I guess the new produce came in.

She got sent home anyway along with the Dentist who is standing behind me with a needle of novocaine in my neck demanding I tell you how great she is. She’s the best. XOXO, PDX.


I’m back, and so is the show.

Date one is with the flight attendant who is an Oregon Denier – which is shameful, though she is likeable and uh, in quite good shape.

Ben takes her on an airplane ride, which is great because she lives on airplanes. Like giving a florist flowers, dude. She’s got this. Benilla has a hope bracelet and wears a leather helmet for the ride. He says something about the view of her and the ocean both being great. I mean look, if Ben had the game to be gross, this would be. He just was trying hard so again, this falls into the category of HEY BEN I NEED A RIDE TO THE AIRPORT, GRAB ME AND I’LL BUY THE IN-N-OUT.

Ben says yes in that story, btw. The way Batman reacts to the Bat-Signal. He just goes.

They fly somewhere random that for no reason has a hot tub there.


I mean, I guess when you run out of ideas, put a hot tub on it.

The chemistry here seems genuine, because why on earth wouldn’t it be. I think when two people that look like every happy couple stock photo sit in warm water and make out, an angel gets its wings. This is the bachelor at it’s most bachelor. Sometimes this girl wins, sometimes she doesn’t. She definitely might.

Their night date is a lot of pretty open dialogue and while I love girls that love their dad, she really loves her dad. So why did she run from Oregon? What is buried in his apparently-immaculate front yard. Why is this total fox, kind flight attendant who literally has to feed alcohol to hundreds of eligible businessmen a day single? WHAT HAPPENED IN THE FOREST LAUREN?

Also, every time someone said Lauren B. all I heard was Warren G and I started whistling Regulators in my head – just like you are doing right now – THAT’S PRIMING. I CONTROL YOUR MIND. By Mennen™. BELIEVE IT. I’M PLAYING YOU LIKE A PIANO.

Then we go out to a barn where Ben has trouble opening the door to reveal SISTER AMBROISA! Or someone. I have no idea who these people are beyond the fact the lead singer going for the 50 going on 22 look and her backing band was doing that thing I hate where country musicians dress like 90s hair metal rock stars on vacation in Arizona. Just wear a shirt dude. You’re playing the accordion in some country band. You don’t need a leather vest and leather cowboy hat. You just need to play accordion and even that is up for debate.

Caila, the TV Whisperer is at the mansion ALREADY CRYING™ because she can’t believe Ben is going on dates and she’s in love. I guess when you can fall in love via television, you feel things more than the rest of us. I’d really have hated watching the part in Up where they grow old together with her. Like being in the world’s worst Shamu Splash Zone and I’m factoring in whale torture in this assessment. I would rather be covered in abusive whale water than her tears.


There’s a group date at my alma mater of USC to play soccer with two of my favorites, Alex Morgan and Kelley O’Hara, who just won the World Cup and set a great example to women everywhere. They competed for women, they competed for their nation and today, they are helping girls who have never played soccer compete to sit on a couch surrounded by trees aglow with mood lighting.

Dream big.

Kelley O’Hara went to Stanford. She kicks so much ass on the field and then acts cute about it. Violent, Stanford grad with adorable way of dominating foreign nations.


In otherwise, she’s not a contestant on this show. That said, get a new agent because you both are better than this (you heard me Alex).

The game is pretty fun though, especially for Ben who like a moth to a flame or a cat to a lazer pointed, has to run around anytime any sport breaks out going “OHHHHH!” anytime literally anything happens.

Highlights were Alex Morgan laughing at these girls and of course Emily, Twin 1, being a really aggressive goalie. YOU ARE THE GOOD TWIN, EMILY.

Stripes win.

At the night date, it’s a full assault on aggressive Toothy Mermaid. She’s being predictably annoying and self-absorbed, but the rest of the girls 100% go full Lord of the Flies on her. This is the kind of woman-on-woman crime that makes that glass ceiling bulletproof people. Love thy fellow idiot competing for love against you on television. Nevermind. Just fight.

The girls start saying she’s got gross toes and I’m pretty sure something came out about her augmentations. The real part of interest was when she got downstairs and it talking about it, she just asks – is it my cankles?

Fantastic. This was some real awareness for cankles and now the producers will wait at least two weeks before we get a shot of the cankles and the feet. Now I just want to know. I don’t care and I want to know.

Up next, one of the most interesting dates in Bachelor history. Jubilee, one of the most interesting women ever allowed to be on this show. A rough history, military service, zero fucks about being authentic and pretty awkward socially, Jubilee is very real. How will this go? It’s almost painful watching her get excited for the date.

She is nervous day of and gives Ben hell for being late and then since she doesn’t like helicopters, teases if anyone else wants to swap they can.

Oh yeah.



This date is totally interesting. She is spitting out caviar. She is telling him her favorite food is hot dogs. She makes it sexual. And also not. She calls him white boy.

She actually made Ben seem way, way more authentic than he seemed. I mean, I know he’s nice and all, but he kind of was a better, more interesting version of himself with her. And she, a more understandable complex woman. Isn’t that what makes relationships great? Not to be all TOTALLY FUCKING RIGHT™ about relationships, but the good ones are ones that help you understand how you interact with the world. It’s a close friend who loves you when you aren’t at your best and is good at helping you not be your worst.

For a moment, I felt like I was watching a better show. HOW DARE YOU™.

She gets the rose and this whole thing is weird because WHO KNEW?!

Cocktail party starts with Ben admitting he just found out some friends from home died in a plane crash. He’s hoping for a good night. It’s a good opportunity to see how comforting these girls are. And for Toothy Mermaid to talk about her cankles. I feel like she was crying and practicing news lead-ins about cankle awareness in her room listening to Debbie Gibson records on full blast. She scares me.

Jubilee, who the house hates because she is different (read into that as cynically as you want) just sets up a massage table to rub Ben down. Not in a gross way though for the first time in Bach history. She actually is talking about his feelings. I felt like they get each other. The main point is that Ben really needed this it seemed like. I kept waiting for this to get awkward, it just didn’t. She didn’t make it about her at all.

And then the BRAINDEAD HITMAN Amber comes in to kill the game. Ben’s not happy, but he’s not a rager so he just gets up and deals with it.

Twenty minutes later, Jubilee is dropping truth bombs like “this ain’t cute” and she tries to not get sucked in. Amber won’t let it go. Ben, who likes her, decides he’s gonna comfort her. Amber attacks again. WTF. Bad look. When former contestants don’t get that this is like driving your car into an brick wall, it drives me insane. It’s like playing baseball and not understanding you run to first after you hit the ball. It’s worse. It’s batting without a bat.

Out of nowhere, Lace sends herself home. I know people love her, I’m bored. Sad she’s not happy with herself. Hope she fixes it. She already fixed the show by leaving though. There’s real drama this year. Whatever happens with Jubilee will blow my mind. She’s the most interesting person to be on this show in years. I’m rooting for a good outcome for her whatever that may be.


And welcome to all the new friends on Instagram and Twitter. Appreciate it. Spread the link like a virus.









Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap: May We All Be So Unlovable

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).


Hiiiiiii Ben.

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.



Ben lives in Warsaw, Indiana which even looks like Warsaw, Poland (on a map)

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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.

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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.







Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

Final BachCapette: The Season That Wasn’t

Even in great seasons of this show, it’s human nature to complain about how it could have been better. Never before have I not been able to use the level of hyperbole needed to explain what a total systematic failure of bad television this season was.

This was like waking up early to go to brunch, waiting five hours for a table, being served a plate of rats and then when you complain about it, the waiter farts in your face and says something racist.


That’s this season.

This season was like going to a car wash and instead of water and soap cascading across your car, the jets just spray pig’s blood and then when you get out to complain sorority girls cover you in honey and feathers and circle your body parts that aren’t eating-disordery enough.

If you guys can’t deliver a season that even vaguely resembles this show, I am not delivering a final post that resembles my blog. It’s been a struggle for years now to continue to do the BachCaps because it’s hard to get up for it. I do it because I like my readers and I enjoy making you guys laugh. I’m like a magic web pixie that is fed by coffee being spit on coffee monitors.


But I am really, really debating walking away because this wasn’t the Bachelor. It wasn’t theatre. It wasn’t bad theatre. It was a chef pretending he didn’t burn your steak beyond recognition and thinking we’re too dumb to notice. YOU SAID WELL DONE. I did Bachelor people. I did.

So, questions.

What really happened? Can the creators of UnReal jump in and shed some light for me because like a kid with superheroes, I want to believe.

We have fantasy suites before hometowns. The hometowns don’t involve the actual hometowns. They involve Utah. One fucking helicopter. Pretending the final episode is somewhere tropical but it’s really fifteen minutes from the mansion. The final episode being at the mansion. No extreme dates. Perpetual Ireland. Nick making it to the final.

I like to think Harrison just went out of control and lost it and the net result was a lack of planning. I read somewhere that an Argentina trip fell through. Argentina harbored Nazis after WWII and even they wouldn’t let this awful season through the border. My wife just closed the browser.



There’s a reason you only get fifteen minutes of fame. That reason is people like Nick whose effing mother came to the damn After the Final Rose. My mom stopped coming to see my band play after high school and didn’t start again just because we got a couple songs on TV or were on the radio. There’s just an age where you have to to Pepsi LIVE FOR NOW.

This poor guy. He’s trying so hard to be whatever the hell he is trying to be. And the worst part is by the end I think he was actually the more interesting choice.

This season created a love triangle between:

  1. A Canadian who is afraid of birds but has two bird tattoos.
  2. A man who looks like Alf and has a 65 IQ.
  3. A two time runner up who came back on the show because it’s better than crying while researching bespoke lapel carnations online and pretending to like “guy stuff”.


Not done.


I mean, this season made True Detective Season Two look like Shawshank. Give me one good reason to watch this next season. Just one. I swear, I may make like Avicii and fade into darkness right about now.


There is not a ton more to say. In the end, something got broken this season and we never got to find out why. Kaitlyn seemed so fun, but somehow she was the least fun person ever. She had some goofy dudes and a solid villain or two, but it never happened. We didn’t get all the things we have come to love about this unloveable show. It wasn’t escapist TV. It was an escape act, the producers trying to make it seem like the ship wasn’t capsizing and dragging out the world’s most miserable season.

I had high hopes after the Farmer’s season because it had all the elements of the show that we appreciate, but also had a great twist. Living in a small town that doesn’t have a Starbucks. That was taking the game forward. Yeah, turns out he’s a right wing farmland slumlord who was doing this for publicity. I don’t care. I assume they all will fail at this. But I expect a good ride.

In a helicopter.

Instead, I feel comforted only by the Timbers and the fact I get to drink, jump and swear and dance in smoky stadiums like a hooligan.

MLS Sounders Timbers Soccer


There’s the playoff race for the Dodgers. USC starts soon. Arsenal takes on the premier league. You can almost hear the air coming out of Brady’s deflated balls. So much to embrace.

The problem is, I normally leave feeling like the Bachelor returning in the new year is something to look forward to. Now, I’m skeptical.







Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette


Before I start, how stoked are you that Pumpkin Spice lattés are back at Starbucks? Sure, it’s the kind of blazing hot summer that makes you positive global warming isn’t a strong enough term (GLOBAL BURNPOCALYPSE™), but Starbucks brought it back early. We’re all ready for it, who cares if it’s normally a fall thing. If we did everything correctly in an order that made sense, I’d probably still cook my chicken before I ate it. Finally our coffee flavorings have jumped the season like that guy in your high school who is really excited about his new leather jacket even though it’s still August. That guy was totally Nick, by the way.


Look, I’m making a point. There’s a reason we like hometown dates before fantasy suites. There’s a reason we like extreme dates and exotic locales. And helicopters, god, the helicopters. Remember them?

We’ve been stuck in Ireland for what feels like two months at this point. Let’s be clear. This show has managed to get to the final two with a travel itinerary that was limited to Texas and Ireland. God, that’s like the bottom of the barrel right there. I mean, her travel plans are literally the licorice flavored Jujyfruits. They are there to only get eaten when there’s no other option. It’s like every other location banned the show. Remember going to places like Panama City? Africa? copy 8

Crap, I think they went to NYC too, which I love (as you know from my Instagram), but that was probably because Chris Harrison had a book tour stop and had to bring his garbage with him.

Back in ENDLESS IRELAND™, Leave It To Beaver goes on a half-assed horse riding date in a sweater he bought off-camera. He’s a nice guy, but he’s going to get sent home and you knew it because Kaitlyn does not want someone to care for her, she wants a bully or a poodle.


I don’t even want to comment on this date because it was a waste of time. Nothing Beav said was gonna make a difference. I just hope he got a little fun in because otherwise he may literally have to go home, learn to be an asshole and continue the vicious cycle of women wanting a nice guy, rejecting nice guys, falling in love with assholes and then being older and single because eventually the nice guys marry younger girls who will settle for “older” instead of “total prick” – My wife just closed the browser.

The next date was with Gosleech and it was golf themed. Anything to not have to leave the property, guys. I just hope they paid the parking meters. Cheap asses.

Gosleech dressed in a hot pink and electric blue ensemble that was SOOOOO EMBARRASSING save the fact that it’s how every asshole on the PGA Tour dresses already.

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I’m sure at some point someone Googled this and that’s why they convinced Gosleech to get naked for no reason at all and run around holding his junk. I just enjoyed that he wears Pro Combat tights as underwear in case a game of football breaks out randomly. I get it. You are a trainer. I’m an advertising executive. I don’t dress like this under my normal clothes:


Gosleech drank more beer again and then Kaitlyn, who is very turned on by the idea a bully and a high school girl are fighting over her, decided to ask about why he doesn’t like Nick. We had to hear more about Eskimo brothers, which is the dumbest term I ever heard.

One love. We’re all eskimo brothers in some way. And sisters. Especially if you are a creationist.

In the morning, Nick was waiting to Glenn Close Gosleech outside the room and despite “not wanting to talk”, they go inside together and say more nothing at all.


Gosleech is so dumb it hurts and Nick, well, Nick is a little girl minus the part about being cute and fun to listen to talk. I blacked out in the middle of Gosleech repeating sentences that were vaguely like, “I came over and came clean and made it right and said I think you aren’t here and people know why you are or aren’t and I don’t have time for you bro I’d rather be anywhere than right here with you because you aren’t even anything you fancy slick smooth talker”.

Smooth talker?


Nick talks like he’s eating cotton balls, looks around like a little girl shy in front of a firefighter and speaks in the kind of instagram quotes you expect from people who will eventually resort to manual labor.

Maybe it’s because his instagram feed has these:

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We’re talking about a bully in Gosleech who can’t speak poorly arguing with this guy in a Tequila Mockingbird shirt he is super proud of:

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Nick is the worst endorsement for Chicago since the 1903 fire.


Anyway, at the rose ceremony, Kaitlyn freaks out presumably because she is dressed like a stripper fighting her way out of a tangerine. Also, every time she dresses skimpier, we find eight more tattoos. I’m terrified her whole butt is a map of the mountain ranges of Canada.

Well, not terrified.

She cuts Ben down and he’s a gentleman about it. He’s back to wherever to do well at work, respect women, wear slightly too big oxfords and probably enjoy drinking IPA (whiskey is a little crazy for him).

There’s a weird bro down with Nick and his technicolor DREAM SUIT™ and Gosleech, who still can’t tie a fucking tie. HERE:


Off to magical… Utah?

Wait. Hometown dates are all at one hotel in Utah during the offseason? For no reason they will tell us? We’re just not going to people’s homes? Are Peppermint Mochas back already? COME ON ALREADY.

Nick’s family is just as Twilight as the last time we met them. His mother, who FUCKING LOVES™ Robin Wright in House of Cards just starts crying immediately, further proving the insane emotional damage Nick received the last time on this show. That said, she sure doesn’t have a problem with him pathologically being on the show.

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This whole family (minus Bella who I am leaving alone minus that she was totes named after Twilight) clearly went to a Magnificent Mile style advisor or something. Everyone was dressed as the sitcom version of an archetype. I particularly loved 80s Keyboard Player brother and the brother whose clothing didn’t really fit but Nick told him he couldn’t be seen DEAD in the West Loop without wearing all-over print with piping down the front.

Everyone seems to like Kaitlyn. Maybe because her eyes and mouth move in multiple directions when she gets exciting. That’s exciting I guess.


Nick says he loves her in the worst way ever. I’m sterile now. My line ends. It’s so Game of Thrones. Starks no longer can rule the north because Nick made me sterile. He was like I love you like this:


And Kaitlyn was so basic being like:


Then Nick was like:


Because inside, he’s like this:


I just sat there like my homie Bill:


Gosleech brought his family out and it was so boring I figured it might be why they brought the show to Utah. He told her he loved her. Great.

1 Helicopter. 0 Asian markets. 59 Nick outfit changes. 0 extreme dates.



See you in two weeks for the finale. Thank god football is back soon.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCapette 8: Nightmare Suites

This entire season feels like the scene in Interstellar when McConnaughy is just floating in 4D dusty bookshelf land trying to make contact with the real world through a rip in time and space and against the will of his audience, his daughter, because he’s been an unreliable father.



And you didn’t even bring this thing along.


I love you, bud. Your suit and tie game is second to none. I’ve said on many occasions we’d likely be buds. I’ll get hopped up and be your wingman on an epic cougar hunt at Padri in Agoura Hills right near the mansion. Mothers love me. Just ask my high school friends.


But you gotta do me a solid, bud. You gotta get this trainwreck back on course. Stop putting lipstick on a pig and butcher some new swine.

You could have made this whole season one episode. You could have spent the entire budget that was wasted putting whatever girl is in whatever Carl’s Jr ad that comes out next in near-space like they did to that other girl that was in a Carl’s Jr ad.



Let’s be clear. This season’s travel itinerary looks like it was done by mistake by a drunk sorority girl planning a semester abroad. How high were the production team members when they concepted AGOURA HILLS -> SAN ANTONIO -> IRELAND.


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Real quick. Bryce Dallas Howard or Jessica Chastain?

Guys, I could hang with the obscure format if the payoff was actually worth it. God, I’ve defended this show through thick and thin. I watched the time you had BRAD FUCKING WOMACK do a second season. You recycled compost and used it as compost.

But as we said in film school… Whatever, I didn’t pay attention. The point is you have ten minutes of content, a gullible Canadian leading lady who is more boring than we thought, and you are stretching this thing out to the point we can see through it like prosciutto from a very, very good butcher.

Unless Gosleech and The Other Guy get in helicopters and battle to the death with missiles and emo-tears, this season is lost.


I don’t think I can remember a season where anything other than the classic, and now much missed, STROLL THROUGH ASIAN MARKET™ have outnumbered helicopter dates.

This season is so messed up, there’s a half-living fetus of a season that exists only in the credits where Britt and a dude we knew for seven minutes of airtime dressed like he’s going to some honky tonk nineties rock ashram are dating and now going long distance.

Dude. SO LONG DISTANCE™. We’re done.

So, since I should try to discuss this episode, Leave it to Beaver did great. He’s a really nice guy who will probably lose, be the next Bachelor and be so damn boring. Look, in real life, date him. Be his friend. Make him drink one too many beers (prolly, what, 4?) and watch him take his shirt off and sing songs from his fraternity bus rides to invites. Great. Can’t wait for New Year’s and a new season. I’d try to OD on something right now just to get out of thinking about it, but all I have is some Whole Foods Cape Cod Trail Mix. Fuck today.

Nick continued being the grossest dude on the planet. I can’t even watch him. He just giggles, whispers, says nothing and plans how he can make dolls out of your hair.


He’s Cool Ethan from Slackers.

Attention is fun girls. So are Oreos until you eat enough of them and you literally can’t even look at the package anymore and then avoid the cookie aisle all together, start seeing a juice cleanse, posting it to Instagram to piss off Oreos and always wonder when Oreos is going to come back and cut your face off and wear it as a hat.

That’s Nick. Know how I know? He told a girl on national television she “made love to him” and then cried and then CAME BACK ON THE SHOW.

I’m pissed at Gosleech too. They wind this dude up on Guinness (because we never leave Ireland ever, it’s like we’re all fucking leprechauns and it’s just NOT ALLOWED™), finally tell him about the gross NickLoveMaking™ and what does he do? Come over in the middle of the day and get into a verbal pillow fight. Nick definitely called his homely best friend girl out there and was like “I totes took him down, so whatever” –

And then the show was like TO BE CONTINUED. I was like I HUNG UP AN HOUR AGO.

I felt bad when Creepin’ Hawke went home. Make him shave and let him be the new Bach. Homeboy was a class act and his only crime was not being the kind of clinger that vaguely looks like Alf and Gosling’s child or the kind that looks like Peter MacNicol.

Or, you know, just find a civilian girlfriend.

[fart noise]






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCapette 7: Endless Fever Dream

I tend to defend the chaos of this show just because in the end, we go to the toilet to see a shit show. My wife just closed the browser. Early. World record.


The thing is, this year, we’ve lost the format so much, we’ve forgone so much world travel, so much hijinx… The show just kind of sucks. And I think they know it.


They know it because they are blending episodes into episodes, giving up on traditions that have made this the Saturday Night Live of ruining your personal life.

Instead, we’re now on WEEK EFFING THREE™ of NICKGATE™. And look, it was interesting she slept with him and seemed to be honest about it, but they go and ruin that by dragging it out for three damn weeks. It’s like watching a football game where they play eight games of checkers before going to overtime. I’m wondering what the point is. I used to have fun hangovers from this show from drinking because I was laughing and holding court. Now I just sort of drink SILENTLY & VIOLENTLY™ in the corner and then skulk to bed to let unconsciousness suck me into the underworld.

Let’s get the dates out of the way before we talk about the Gosleech/PeterMacNicol situation, which is really all that happened.

JJ and The Man With The Dented Forehead went on a 2:1 elimination date. They went to a cliff. They drank some whiskey. JJ tried the move that worked ALL THE TIME™ in high school. It’s a tried and true method involving coming off like you are this arrogant prick high on the confidence that can only come from have a huge gap in your teeth and the ability to tuck your shirt in before buttoning it (did you see that?). Phase two of this method is telling a girl that you don’t know that well that you cheated on your ex and ruined your life because that’s pretty HAWT™. Just ask any girl.

She’s not your therapist, pal. She’s also not going to be your wife. Auf Wiedersehen.


For some odd reason, Canada makes Oh Forehead, How Dent Thou stick around. He’s pretty cool I guess. He comes from where bourbon and baseball bats come from. And he’s going home next week, so whatever. Or maybe in a month. Not sure when they are planning to do another rose ceremony.

The other solo date was with Creepin’ Hawke, who by virtue of this shitshow is turning candidate simply because even his WANDERING FACIAL HAIR™ can’t hide the fact he’s a lot more interesting than one half of the dudes, and far less clinger than at least two of the other ones.

They go on a road trip. They kiss the blarney stone. They make out. ROSÉ ALL DAY.

Now let’s get to the point. Peter MacNicol wants to tell the world about his sex with Kaitlyn, only she doesn’t want him to, because truly, it’s embarrassing to sleep with a guy like him. I’m not slut shaming (we’ll get there). I’m all for sex. Just not with the under-villain in Ghostbusters II.

Gosleech is stone cold buggin’ and being fed a lot of beer. He goes to confront Kaitlyn about what the promos led us to believe is the SECRET COITUS™, but in reality, it’s about some dumb off-camera interaction where she told him “he’s the one” –



Anyway, Kaitlyn is so relieved that all this interrogation is just in regards to the offscreen chat and NOT the fact she slept with the cross between a ferret and a pipe cleaner that she tries to reassure him by basking him in her relief. Only, then she goes high and mighty with him. We call this GETTING CAUGHT IN A LIE™.

So for the rest of the episode, it’s a million tantric close, but nope, moments including a weird talk with Nick where he starts crying after talking about sex. The dude honeydicks people. See The Interview. Straight honeydicking. All day. But then afterwards, he’s crying, he’s asking why you made love, he is a time bomb made up of tears, windbreakers, fluffy hair and lifetime movies. RUN.

So let’s fast forward to the resolution. Chris Harrison comes in (in a radical tie) and just kind of tells Kaitlyn the fact she slept with Nick is throwing the show off. She needs OFF CAMERA TIME™ with EVERYONE™ before the hometowns. What?

Is the show slut shaming her now? Are they 100% sure she will sleep with everyone? Was she freaking out so much that maybe if it comes out after fantasy suites, it will be okay? Are they all so dumb as to forget they will see the show and know about this? What the hell is going on? They would NEVER do this with a dude. Period. I have to hope it’s Kaitlyn wanting this in some messed up GIRL LOGIC™ or I just feel gross. Like eating sushi that’s been out too long in the sun (I go to a lot of yacht-based events, it’s a real life hazard for me, you couldn’t wear my topsiders, my life is hell).

So now, we’re dragging this out another week. We’re still not leaving Ireland. I am not even going to talk about Cupcake’s ridiculous helicopter therapy session date where he thought for one second about tossing his mint green toothpasted carcas off the cliffs.

The mariachi date feels long removed, doesn’t it. My gut is she is a hot mess backstage and somehow we’re going to need to speed up or I’m losing patience.

Adios to Captain America. Probably the last dude on the show that I’d let drink whiskey with me. If you are reading this, beers?






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

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.


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.


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.


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).


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.


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?



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.



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:


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.



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.


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.







Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

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?


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:


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?”



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.


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:


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.



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.


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:


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.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

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.


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?)


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?


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.


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.


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:


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.


Then… They went outside… And…

giphy helicopter-fail x33jgrpvll5rdmvt96qc Gif-Human-Helicopter robot chopper grannycopterxx deb6f9871971370f681d75a7a65cff6f


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


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.







Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCapette THREE: Sumo Booty Blurs

Big week for Caitlyn, amirite?

Screen Shot 2015-06-02 at 11.12.27 AM

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.


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.


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!”


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.


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:


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.


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.


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.


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:


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.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette