BachCap Chad Ochocinco

I am fucking tired of this format. I am tired of eight night premieres, no helicopters, virtually no Chris Harrison, unintelligible dialogue and the same “Iseeeee” or “ay jai jai” or “Iliiiiikeeeeet” every time. In what started out potentially being the best season, we have fallen so far that I literally am doubting if I want to cover the show anymore. And I mean actually, not in that I have to get drunk to make love to this show kind of way. In that, I’m tired of watching videos of abused animals to Sarah McLachlan songs way.

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Maybe next season there will be a reason, but no helicopters and a homophobic, misogynistic and faker bachelor who repeats the same thing over and over is leading me just to one conclusion: This show kind of sucks now.

Not in the fun way it used to suck. Just in the way the House of Lies sucks now. Or in the way that getting a prostate exam sucks. Like, I can’t even enjoy the tropical locations or the highlighter colored outfits. I need something redeeming because I want to attack my television every time it is on.

I hold out a little hope. Besitos.

But I do love you, my passionate following, because you are the reason for me. So, let’s just do the damn thing and don’t get pissed at me if I literally go to a subscription model next year because I literally need to get paid to do this if there’s no helicopters.

Seriously, share this, yell at producers, motivate me. This season jumped the shark which is crazy because this is a show about jumping sharks. I need follows, likes, shares, compliments (fished or farmed). Consider me an insecure 15 year old girl. That’s how this show has made me feel.


Off to KANSAS CITY (Kansas or Mizzou?) to see the true location of Dawson’s Creek with Joey Dawson Love Child. Her skin was looking way better so I know for certain she went to the dermo and said “give me the nuclear option, I know the risks and I’ll sign a waiver.”


They went and ate some barbecue, which is a good call in KC, and then went to ride a mechanical bull together. Just to be clear to Wapalo, who is the worst dude ever, that dual riding of a mechanical bull is actually a worse image for Camila than underwater ocean sex. Want to know why? When she grows up, if she condones and adopts the actions of this show, which she will because her daddy did these things, you’d rather her be with the kind of guy who can afford to take her to a private beach than the dude whose idea of foreplay is Jim Beam shots with a beer back followed by a moonlight dual mechanical bull ride in the south in front of a bunch of drunk Chiefs fans.

Which he’d know if he really had a job working with athletes.

Let’s see. Her mom was good looking minus the mom cut and her dad was basically Ray Liotta. He gave a great answer to the “will you give me your blessing” question. He’s like, if she’s in, I’m in. Basically, I love my daughter, I think you are a ponzi.

I mean the big theme this week was “Dad knows the guy sucks just like America does.” No amount of crying and tear wiping will change that, Wapalo. I’m ready for you to be as depressing as Jake Pavelka is to us now. Fire up some Avicii, need you to FADE INTO DARKNESS, bro. Your show is canceled.


The DA’s hometown in ATL was immediately great because her nickname is Pookie. That’s all.

They go shoot guns and the producers tried to make it seem like Wapalo couldn’t hit a target ten feet away. They invented the gun so killing someone at ten feet was almost idiot proof. Stop fronting. There’s nothing cute about him, this or a gun shooting date. I’m not anti gun shooting, but WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE HELICOPTERS? IS THERE A HELICOPTER UNION STRIKE I HAVEN’T HEAR ABOUT?

Beyond his name being Hy, which I’m pretty sure came from a nickname related to taking the V cards of a lot of girls, this dude was doing the “Imma kill you sweats” from the get go. I would not want to hang at that dinner table, but I made a point in life of only eating dinner at the houses of women I respected or never slept with. Wapalo and the answers he gives to everything are the kind that would set any dad off. If I was like that to my father in law, I would have lost respect for him if he DIDN’T punch me through the face and yank out my brainstem.

Daughters, don’t bring dudes home that aren’t the one. That’s messed up. Like no helicopters messed up.

Hy’s answer to Wapalo was the best ever. Basically, you have a daughter dating a guy who has 3 girls. Don’t fucking ask me for permission until you kill the other girls and we’re talking in a helicopter. Stop wasting my time. I want to kill you. Soccer sucks.


Gonna gloss over Maniston’s hometown because I love her, her kid, her parents and her silent but lovely brother as well. Her son throws a baseball great which means either she taught him or she is kind to her ex or her dad and bro are taking care of it. I just wish they didn’t introduce the kid to Wapalo. It’s so clear she is better than him. I don’t want this kid anywhere near her. I have a wife and we both agreed we’d help her raise this kid. He was like the dude from Ratatouille. Who didn’t like that guy?

I hope America can deal with her being smart and sporty (not an Emily Maynard), because I think she could be Bachelorette and she’d make great decisions and actually find a great dude who’d love to step into a nice family and a loving wife. Somewhere out there, that’s the point. And helicopters, of which there are none.

Crickets date is in some roseless rose garden, which explains Sacramento to anyone that hasn’t gotten my references. Crickets’ house is like a brothel. It’s just a billion women of different genetic combinations, Claire being the best combo. Well, other than her mom who seems like the best one. Like at any moment if a helicopter was available, she’d have jumped on it and GTFO.

I don’t know what her one sister was doing with the ultimate cockblock, but considering how much Wapalo sucks and how brainwashed Crickets is, she was probably doing him a favor. Besitos.


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He sends home Maniston (thank god for her) and she turns out to be a pretty crier. If she wants to contact me, I am happy to set her up with a fucking winner who would take her in a helicopter and everything.


Off to helicopterless St. Lucia to the dope ass Viceroy Sugar Beach (my nickname in high school) (also, my wife just closed the browser).

The Crickets date has solidified that Swimming In The Ocean is the new “we had sex.” Like, if you go on a nice date you should ask your partner if they feel like swimming in the ocean or if they are too tired from work to tread water or too bloated and need to wait thirty minutes before swimming. I mean, not to be disgusting but there is some “attracting sharks” excuse for, well, you know for when.

Thanks Bachelor!

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Claire does the thing where she acts like she has a backbone and then just gets naked and hooks up. Here’s the thing. She is who I want to win. She is the only one who just doesn’t care about anything a normal person would (like helicopters) and just pretty much wants Wapalo. And in any marriage it is more important what goes on between the involved parties than how we see it. She’s all in. She’s his best chance for love, even though I have one fuck to spare for his aventura.

Andi had a waterfall date. Yawn.

What was amazing though was a Bachelor first (for me at least in my 6 or so seasons) in that she basically woke up and said what we were all thinking. He’s selfish, boring, misogynistic, name-dropping and totally not into helicopters. She was just like “I’m out” and that did it for me. Hy, her father, literally high fived his buddies because he “dadded” the shit out of his daughter. It’s like the boxer you train knocking a dude out. I hope I have that feeling one day when I train my daughter to hate you future children boys of millenials.

Nikki dresses in “cowboy hooker” attire. She’s mastered the tight top at the perfect latitude for optimal cleavage. They ride some horses. She tells him she loves him. Whatever.

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No helicopters later, Andi decides she’s going to let Wapalo have it, and she does… Until she goes typical girl and basically begs him to convince her otherwise, that she WAS special. I was so into her gumption until then. She got it back in the car and I guess breaking up is hard to do. I can’t say I was any better, we all want validation. Here’s hoping she does what other smart people do, find a better model that likes you more and post tons of pics to social media about how happy you are. Andi, just go put some perps in jail, keep being you and you will be great. Fuck him and his lack of helicopters.

Side note, he is GOOD at breaking up with girls. It was like trying to catch smoke. That’s a warning sign, FYI. A dude who expects the Muppets has been to a lot of puppet shows, bro. Yafeel me?

Rose ceremony was only funny because Nikki was like I NEED AN ANSWER NYOW and then she was like “whatever, abs.”


But I will be there for you at the 13 part finale. And hopefully that’s the end of this.

And I saw the helicopter in the preview but I’m not convinced until I see it and I get the triumphant bachelor theme music. This has been a Batman film without a Batmobile like object.






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BachCap Siete

Ay jai jai! We are going to Miami this week in what is becoming a Wapalo hate fest. This week, the producers worked hard to throw us off the scent that Wapalo brings a swaggy misogynistic perve (wrong word, I’m sorry, my language isn’t so good) to every interaction he has with women.

Seriously, sometimes it makes the life of being chained to a Viking range cooking in weird lingerie and reciting from the bible that Catherine Giuuguiguidici is being doped into via Sean Lowe seem like a cake walk. Wapalo will get his face next to yours, whisper to you not to cry or have feelings and then mind rape you into loving him.

Side note. Catherine actually posted this. I guess the problem with PR for a show like this is it takes a special breed in most cases to want to be on it…


I mean, it should make for good TV, only…

The intro had a DISTINCT feel of “we shot this the minute Wapalo got in trouble for saying bad things about gay people.” That’s because his first defense was “I have a gay cousin” and apologies if my radar is off, but pretty sure the only reason he randomly had a cousin over in the completely pointless intro montage was to show he hugs his cousin and loves his cousin.


Dude. The best way to not be a homophobe is to not be a homophobe. You don’t need to prove you love your cousin. Just don’t say shit that is homophobic. When someone asks if you think there could be a gay Bachelor. You just be like “Fuck yeah, why not” and go back to hooking up with 27 women.

If that cousin he showed for no reason wasn’t his gay cousin… Well then cool braces big guy! Looking forward to the final product and thanks for showing up. I don’t care either way.

But seriously, if that wasn’t his gay cousin, the PR engine sure made it seem this way. Frankly, we don’t we care less.

The first date was complete fucking garbage. It was a garbage salad sandwich. It was Opera Singer doing VO about how Wapalo is basically a moron, but she just wants to hook up with him because [insert male equivalent of boobs].


All he does is press his face into these girls, bite their lips, make out with them, tell them not to cry, then when they do elaborately wipe their tears in a way that makes me think it’s a fetish. There is a bunch of “you look goood, I liiiiike that” and then rinse, repeat, try not to kill yourself.

That is all this date was and literally having to watch her Gag Kiss him on a boat. There was no talking whatsoever and then they cut to her VO and she repeats over and over that he is basically just a piece of meat. But then she’s like “I’ll give up my career for you” and then back to “no fucking way.”

Bottom line, people debate making bad decisions for brief lusty encounters. FIGHT THE URGES (except in college) and then date for love. It lasts longer.

At some weird non-linear point of the evening the producers had Maniston be the crying shoulder for the 11th time this season. I mean, just play this the minute she comes on screen.

The next date is with Joey & Dawson’s Infinite Lovechild (Nikki) and it’s mainly about torturing his ex-wife, which makes sense because when not slut-shaming, repeating the same pick-up lines or looking fascinated by boats, Wapalo loves putting women in their place (according to him, please don’t close the browser wife).

Seriously though, JDIL is going to go to Camila’s dance recital, meet his parents and his ex-wife, who looks like she wants to take a razor to her cheeks and make face bacon. I am dying to know what Venezuelan telenovela dramatic closet skeletons Wapalo has on his ex to make her subject herself to this. Also, nothing screams “Camila is the most important” like bringing one of six potential new moms to a dance recital. Totally won’t manifest in her personality later. She’ll probably totally make good relationship decisions.

But the real star of this date was the wardrobe designer. I mean, they know she’d be meeting an ex wife, a child and two parents and they put her in a front-less tank top thing. I mean, we all got to know her better. I don’t want to be the guy who is angry about boobs, but let’s be honest. Wapalo is a slut-shamer and nothing screams “gonna get shamed” like showing a child, the grandparents and the last woman your breasts at a children’s dance recital.

Pretty sure at one point she turned it around for the interviews. Still, I think she did pretty great, didn’t back down, knew how to talk to and about Camila. I don’t fault her for hating the other girls in the house, or rather, not paying attention to them. I mean, I can barely.

That night, Nikki decided to wear even less and go to Wapalo’s “office,” or rather Marlins Park, where he once translated a letter to a player’s side piece girlfriend one time. STOP FRONTING YOU HAVE A JOB WAPALO. The field was empty, which would have been more special if Marlins Park wasn’t always empty. I mean, nobody watches them play and that makes it an even better front for Wapalo’s fake job. Who would even notice if he was ever there or not. This is what it’s like on gameday:

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Nikki should endorse boob tape because she dressed like Leeloo Dallas Multipass to play baseball and we didn’t see much at all. Good for her and for the innovators at 3M.

Later that night, common sense wins the war and Opera Singer goes to dump Wapalo who basically just wipes her tears and they whisper in voices that made me want to puke. I mean they were all lip-smackey and gross and made me feel like a drunk girl was chewing gum in my ear.

Whatever, she left the show and is probably better off.

Group date was with a fucking plane boat or something that’s still not a helicopter so fuck you everyone. I don’t care. Let’s go sit on a fucking beach again and do nothing. Wapalo says “niiiiiiice, I liiiiike eeeeet” thirty times, District Attorney gets all insecure and then gets a rose. I mean, I have not two fucks to give for this date.

The only fun part was Crickets losing her Sacramento mind because she didn’t get a rose. I just can’t wait to see her reality show where she coaches a team of stressed out junior high cheerleaders into eating disorders. She is going to have a hilarious mouth in middle age.


That night at the house, Cricketts decides she is going to pick a fight with JDIL. If you could follow what on earth they were even talking about, handcuff yourself and start screaming help. Literally, at one point they argued if the room Nikki was sleeping in was “her” room because she doesn’t own the hotel. That happened. In fact, this conversation was the greatest argument for vasectomy ever.

The cocktail party had a really long manufactured pause between these two, but it was better than listening to Wapalo kiss a woman, so whatever. Crickets takes such long pauses between words, for all I know she was talking the whole time, we just saw the middle of her sentence.

Chelsie gets sent home and I learned for the first time that they let you drink on the ride to the airport. How humane.

Fuck this. Hometowns.





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BachCap Seis on Seis on Seis

I have to admit, I’m sort of captivated this season. Wapalo is so reasonably likable on the surface, but then just drops incredible, potentially-language-barrier-based bombs that shake the already flimsy foundations of these reality television tributes from their respective districts.

And it’s getting down to it. Every year I want to quit writing this thing, but once they start traveling and unravelling, I get sucked back in.

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And what better place to get sucked back in than Middle Earth. New Zealand, as it was called before Lord of the Rings, became the the backdrop for this week’s bloody, misogynistic beat down. Wet Mess (Scottsdale) tried to tell me how some resort was the most exclusive resort in the world or something, but I’m really not prepared to discuss “exclusive” resorts from a Phoenix area NBA dancer who pays for bottle service at nightclubs in strip malls. I’m sorry. I’m not hating on her (other than calling her Wet Mess, I mean you know dating her means finding extensions, Q-tips, make up pads and fake eyelashes stuck to pretty much everything in your place), I’m just not ready to believe this place is exclusive and also I’m not Googling it because… Well, I just don’t care.

Neither did Chris Harrison, who has been MIA forever now. He could have gotten really pinched in Vietnam and you just feel like he gave up on visiting Middle Earth and smuggled some shit to Hong Kong. Godspeed, you ageless man.

The DA gets the first date and as she smiles with her tiny razor teeth, Crickets goes from upbeat to complete meltdown mode. When she gets upset, you’d think she got a lower score than she expected in figure skating.


Truthfully, that was a metaphor. By ice skating, I meant ocean sex and by lower score I mean being slut shamed on national television.

So, yeah. Crickets is not impressed. For now.

Vertical Natalie Portman (prettiest crier in years) and Maniston have a little heart to heart in which you realize they should just Big Love that shit and be sister wives. It’s actually a pretty good option for some illegal polygamist out there. I mean, all they need is the weird one, but they can find her near the compound. I’m about efficiency and if they both married Wapalo, they’d assure fathers and siblings for their communal kids. And they’d have 3/5 of a basketball team, which is good because Vertical Nat has connections, I’m told.


DA’s date is on some whacky speed boat, whatever WHERE ARE THE FUCKING HELICOPTERS THIS SEASON IS KILLING ME. The fun part is next time you want to go to an 80s party, just ride in a speed boat. Wapalo came off with 1987 cocaine dealer hair.

They go through some rock tunnel to go lick each other’s faces in a waterfall and DA is super impressed that he’s so chivalrous for helping her through the rock maze. If your standard of chivalry is “man not letting you die while being filmed,” you need to see a fucking therapist stat. Set a higher bar. It’s the Olympics after all.

Good news for criminals in her home town. No one is going to take her seriously in court. If she’s bringing heat on them, they’ll be like “man you are grinding me like I was a Venezuelan under a waterfall.” Which is also a new thing you should all say.

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At dinner, a geyser goes off providing 3 full minutes of “that’s what she said” jokes. I’m sure you did it already. She gets a rose. The criminal defense system gets an F. F minus.

Crickets gets the Juan on Juan, which means he wanted more sex, more slut shaming or setting her up for a private kill shot.

Group date looked like everything I ever wanted in high school. Action sports in a self contained water slide packed full of NBA dancers. So basically, this scene should have been in the Hobbit. And other media. All the media.

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After all of that 14 year old wet dream is over, they literally go to 14 year old super-heaven by literally going to get drunk at The Shire. Not some place like The Shire. They full on Hobbit Party.

Wapalo tells Maniston she is one of his “special ones” which is what every girl dreams of. Being one of many special people. Dawson Joey Lovechild plays tonsil hockey. Gross kissing ensues. Who is the kissing instructor for this show?

Then there’s the issue of the Opera Singer. She plays hard to get. She invites a kiss. She looks like she is gagging when he kisses her. Like her body language when being kissed is like when they put eyes drops in at the ophthalmologist. Whatever, it seems to be working.

It’s Vertical Natalie Portman’s birthday (potentially her Sweet 16) and Wapalo tries to stay awake when she says generic nice single mom things to him.

Rose goes to Opera and her gag reflex.

Then he takes Vertical Natalie aside to tell her she is ALSO one of his “special ones” and that she’s getting dumped on her b-day.

I was glad she lost this show. Because she is the tallest, prettiest, best crier, most NBA dancerist person on the show and also getting child support from a millionaire. Now the world knows you exist and you are ready for love (and to take your driver’s test). It’ll work out for you. Now move out of Michigan. Just a thought.


Crickets gets her Juan on Juan, and they even dressed alike. This ends up being a conversation where he manages to convince her he apologized for making her feel bad for “swimming in the ocean with her” when he actually didn’t. You hear what you want to hear, especially when you are from Sacramento. She is literally proof of California’s public school system being 2nd worst in the nation (AND I AM A PRODUCT OF IT SO I’M SUPER ANGRY).

I mean, all he said was that he “felt bad saying no to her” so he had sex with her out of pity and that “she should only cry when she’s happy.”

Uf. Que lastima. He rewards her with a rose because she bought it and, well, fantasy suites. Which Camila will totally understand. FACESMACK.

Side note, when he puts Crickets in his harem pants or whatever they are called, I realized he has multiple pairs of these. One is too many. Sorry, if you want your dating life to improve, don’t date anyone with those pants. You don’t need to know why. I know why. Don’t do it. It’s a bullet train to velour jumpsuits in 30 years. Trust me.

Harrison sneaks up super creepy for a brief interview in which I had no idea what Wapalo said beyond he aventura and mundo and fuck this guy.

In last ditch efforts to become arbitrary special ones, Wet Mess and Chelsie decide to go for it. They know they are on the fence and at this point their options are pretty much ocean swim, steal a rose, kill the competition or hide in someone’s luggage and continue the aventura.

Wet Mess goes for the sob story, which made me sad, but it’s also the second most likely way to not win this show. The first is shit talking another girl. But this is a close second.

Chelsie spoke at supersonic speeds and covered a lot of shit that, well, I’m not gonna cover.

Wet Mess gets the boot, but what was weird was whatever was going on with Opera Singer. They were BFF or something. A world-traveling opera singer and an NBA dancer. It’s like a Disney film.

With slut-shaming.

See you next week when Harrison cuts the production budget and takes us back to America, but to Miami where he can put the production budget he saved directly into cocaine.






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BachCap Cinco de Wapalo

Is there anything more apropos than Chris Harrison leading Wapalo and his traveling ring-seeking circus to Vietnam? I mean, it’s really not hard to picture an elderly Harrison in a slim-fit suit leading future people throwing their pride away on television on dates in war-torn parts of the middle east. If there was any reason for this it was so that I could say in later BachCaps that “back in Nam things got heavy” all Apocalypse Now and Full Metal Jacket-y. If you are one of my readers that hasn’t seen these films, see them. Then write a five-paragraph essay comparing and contrasting them to this episode…


Because there was definitely underwater guerrilla warfare going on in the oceans back in Nam. But we’ll get there.

ABC MANDATORY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT THAT WHAT BETTER PLACE TO FIND LOVE THAN THE MANDARIN ORIENTAL BILTMORE HILTON VIETNAM DANANG.  But really. What’s with this being a total mixtape hotel. That’s three hotel chains in one. Given, they are nice chains, but this is the KenTacoHut of hotels. KenTacoHut is when Kentucky Fried Chicken, Taco Bell and Pizza Hut share one store.

So I’m anti-mashups. Chris Harrison, not so much. You drink a few drinks, you pop a lude, you blow a line, YOU GET IT TOGETHER AND HAND OUT SOME ROSES. Champagne, sedative, molly, dance party, sleep, wake up in another city and piece the clues together.

Memento 1

Maniston gets the first date and continues to refuse to put on make up or anything beyond a tanktop. I mean, she is 1 of the 2.5 wife-worthy humans on this show (I mean, you don’t actually want a needy D.A. for a wife, she gets a half status for being a terrible combination of personal issue and career choice. Terrifying.)

Can this show just change it’s name to “Browsing Asian Markets?” EVERY SEASON it’s like we’re going to browse an Asian market as if in America we didn’t have these. We buy a local outfit, we sweat way too much (who is putting Wapalo in yellow the whole time, he sweats like a dickhead toddler is chasing him with a squirt gun) and occasionally we eat a bug. We can cover this in Little Osaka off Sawtelle in West LA.


The date is fine, but Wapalo is half ass about it and perhaps in Venezuela the only crime worse than having a fake job and being a failed soccer player is kissing a woman with a child. I can’t keep track of Wapalo’s rules and this gets really crazy later. It started with his feelings that gay people are perverted compared to straight people (or whatever he meant, I can’t figure out what he is saying at any point and it’s not because he has an accent, it’s because he is shitfaced the whole time and can barely keep his eyes open – QUE SLEEPY!) and now continues with his not kissing of a woman with a child unless that woman danced in the NBA and stares blankly into the cosmos (Vertical Natalie Portman).


Look, while she is putting a candle in a box wishing for a kiss, Wapalo is worried her kid is going to not respect him (or maybe Desperado style murder him vendetta style later in life when he wears jumpsuits and is overweight). Whatever. Fuck this date.

On the group date, they are going to do “traditional Vietnamese stuff” which could range from the pleasurable eating of authentic pho to hiding in the jungle and prolonging a military engagement through the use of guerrilla warfare. It was wide open.

They instead ride around in basket boats, Wapalo takes Crickets on a staged crash landing and licks her tonsils for a few minutes because she is for some reason the moron American he’s been dying to jilt. FORESHADOW.

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Really, it’s just proof that Wapalo is having the direct opposite reaction to her mouth that America is.

I kept seeing Chelsie pop up and immediately I’m like there’s a 16 year old in the water! And she may need headgear! But really, I kind of like her. Not for me, but like, for society. She seems fun. Like she’d go to junior prom with you.

The D.A. needs a bunch of reassuring and men everywhere remembered why they broke up with their ex girlfriends and women everywhere thought of the girl on the couch next to them they just want to stop talking about the guy who isn’t calling because he isn’t, this isn’t National Treasure with Nick Cage, there’s no clues or codes, if he wanted a pizza, he’d fucking order one.

Hopefully all of the aforementioned read that out loud together and are on the road to honesty. I mean, we’re all friends here. Let’s make week six a happy place. Unless you are Crickets. FORESHADOW. THUNDERCLAP. LIGHTNING. POWER GOES OUT.

At dinner, Wapalo grabs Crickets and takes her aside to make out or construct sentences with 20 second pauses in the middle. Instead, she ponzi’s him into his suite where she is bathing suit ready in full straddle mode and then says “no more kissing” so that Wapalo’s crotch guidance system is triggered. Target acquired. Her behavior totally dominated on K Street in Sacramento, which if you haven’t visited, I highly recommend you keep it that way.

They end up going in the ocean and whatever… Until we realize this isn’t going in the ocean. This is sex and the show has to be vague about that fact. But it’s sex. In the ocean. Likely unprotected. Crickets is trying to explain what happened in voiceover without being able to call it sex and that is like asking a child to do calculus. She is talking about her feelings, warm bath water, all kinds of things. But really, this was the nuclear option. So confident in her sexual ability, she pulls the trigger like Swimsuit Issues did to Lost Angeles Super Friend Ben Flajnik and hopes that will carry her to the finale.


Somewhere, Maniston’s kid is glad he didn’t kiss his mother and respects him far more for having ocean sex with a soon to be jilted girl from Sacramento.

She gets the rose. And possibly a nasty rash from the saltwater.

The next one on one goes to Nikki, who finally I realized looks like what Dawson and Joey’s kid would have looked like if they had one. Now, it’s all I can see. It’s like an alternate universe where Joey sings “On My Own” and then they get pregnant, raise a child poorly and now she’s rappelling into a giant hole (METAPHOR) with Wapalo.


Dawson’s Love Child is mad panicky, but Wapalo’s magic Venezuelan kisses fix her. If this show was based on reality, I’d never do any adventure sport without an attractive man to kiss me when it got difficult. Like, the army would issue handsome men to make out with marines before storming the shore. Imagine if in Private Ryan when Tom Hanks is on the beach seeing dudes dying and looking for body parts, world’s grosses kisser Arie Niereurerywedyk shows up and makes out with him and he has the courage to continue.

[Smacks forehead. Sorry Tom Hanks. And veterans. It’s Nam. It’s always Nam.]

JP is so regretting having sex with Crickets last night that he is blackout drunk and so happy just to listen to Dawson’s Love Child talk about being a nurse because basically, it’s not making the mistake of having ocean sex with a potential stage five clinger.

Man, the bar got set low.

We get to the rose ceremony and it hits me that the kissing rules are different in Venezuela than anywhere else. He’s kissing this one and the he tries to respect Maniston, but they finally kiss even though that seems like her swan song on this show. And good. She deserves a nice man in the civilian world. Frankly, hit me up, I’ll set you up with a friend Maniston.

Then the show goes to a bad place. In Nam. That’s a real thing that happened in a bad place. It went FUBAR. FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL RECOGNITION.

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For no clear reason, Wapalo pulls Crickets aside and full on slut-shames her, which really pisses me off. It’s probably the same language barrier that caused him to call all gay people perverts, but for some reason he had to tell a girl he had ocean sex with that he regrets it. On national television. He sort of acts like it was not mutual, but we all saw it wasn’t rape. He basically calls her a bad influence on her daughter. She already has a rose sooooo…


What just happened here? A nightmare?

Crickets had been confident, saying in a toast that she was cheers-ing to finding love and making love. The show is being super coy about what obviously happened and after she gets kicked to the damn curb via Wapalo’s ass backwards logic, she’s back crying, pretending it’s allergies and setting up Wapalo as the biggest idiot in the history of this show.

Because if you know women, you know what’s next. She tells someone because she is on an island of slut-shame she doesn’t deserve (Wapalo was pretty damn willing, even if she was aggressive) and that someone will tell the rest of the girls and they will form a wolfpack that is actually pissed at her, but rather than accepting Wapalo is more sexually attracted to her than them, they will bond together against him because high school.

It was bad form all around. Things went nuts in Nam. They always do. WHY! WHY DAMMIT!

I have to be honest, while this blog is a total joke, I don’t think it’s okay what happened this week. You don’t create a show about “opening up” and then slut-shame a woman for having sex before the fantasy suites when the dude says it’s time. It’s 2014. Sure, she made a tactical error. Sure, I wouldn’t date her. But she doesn’t deserve to be shamed, that is total BS and the show should make a statement. Mainly because it’d be hilarious, but also because let’s just keep it real. We want the people on the show to get with each other.

They didn’t promote much during the year that Sean Lowe was a born again virgin. They are now glossing over what happened here. I just want some transparency. It would be a good lesson to girls out there…

Fuck it. Hunger Games. I don’t care.

It was Nam. A lot of crazy shit happened.

Damn, now I need to watch Apocalypse Now again. Nam, man. Nam.







Filed under Uncategorized

BachCap: Cuatro (de baño)

Before we get started, I just have to exclaim how awful the Sean Lowe/Catherine Giuiuiuiuidiuici wedding was, even at the breakneck speeds my wife and I were fast-forwarding at.

Beyond the ridiculous contractual obligation to have Trista and the ghost of Ryan at your wedding, you also have to have a bunch of people you made out with there for no reason. And Andy Dick. For no reason. And Neil Lane gets to be there, botox and mid-life English Laundry dress shirt and all, snapping pictures like he has one fuck to spare.


Beyond the ridiculousness of Sean Lowe claiming to be a virgin, or rather “born-again” virgin, the fact we had a honeymoon suite live cam the whole episode made me want to be a born-again person who has never watched this show.  But here’s the thing. You can’t be a born again virgin. That’s not a thing. After birth, can your wife have a born-again C Section? Does the scar go away because Jesus?

Guys, this isn’t a religious attack. It’s saying let’s be accurate. You can’t just say you are born-again “insert thing you already did.” I am a born-again murderer. I used to kill folks, but now I didn’t do that. It doesn’t work in the legal system, I’m not accepting it here.

Sean, you are a dude who for whatever reason (that is probably FAR more interesting than watching you go to La Perla and buy lingerie reserved for pros that know that was the Rodeo location and to enter from the side courtyard you fucking tourist) that had sex in college and whatever happened decided SEX IS NOT FOR ME UNTIL MARRIAGE.

Also, don’t call your fiancee “chesty.” Is this a saloon? Is Val Kilmer there with dysentery starting fights? Is Wyatt Earp around. If you don’t know her size, don’t be in the store. Or don’t insult us that you had anything to do with any of this from La Perla to pretending to pay for it. You are a former fitness model.

And conversely, America got dumber with Catherine tried to explain to Mindy Weiss, queen of weddings on earth, her theme. “Grown sexy.” HOLY SHIT. I get sexy (but not when the wedding ends up being another nude bridesmaids dress with a shit ton of garden lanterns like everyone for 3 years now), but “grown…”??! How about “adult” or “refined” or “elegant.” Grown sexy just sounds like a dumb fucking Chris Brown lyric.

I’ll end it like this. Fuck this wedding. Fuck you. I’m the Grinch as far as you are concerned. Let us know how it is getting to know each other, you guys clearly didn’t write your own vows and probably have never peed with the door open around each other. THAT’S FIRST DATE MANDATORY WITH ME.

My wife just closed the browser and please born-again-sex-god may Sean and Grown Sexy get it annulled before they waste their lives or before I have to see them at Des and Chris’ wedding, which while they are annoying on Instagram, at least seem like they enjoy each other and possibly hang out, share a bed and aren’t pretending to not have had sex ever. YOU BOTH HAVE HAD SEX,  YOU ARE’NT VIRGINS.

Wow. I was angry. Time to slow roll into some Latin jams.

Chris Harrison showed up in a shirt he totally stared at in the mirror for hours after a long night of listening to EDM remixes and eating Molly like Mike n Ikes (Tuesdays on CBS). He told the girls they were going to South Korea (ug, why not North). Crickets (Sacramento) immediately says “I don’t even have a kimono” and that’s okay because no one in Korea does because they are Japanese. I’d say that was racist, but she legit still to this day thinks geography is the one where you measure triangles and geometry is the one where you study rocks and geometry is the one where you name the continents.

So, yeah. She dumb.

Literally, Wapalo’s date cards have gone down from three words to one. Now it’s like “POP” and next week it will just be like “Z*@#@” and these girls will still go “awwwwww” and I will still drink Robotussin to get thru the first segment.



We’re in Korea and what better place to K-mundo a K-Aventura than in Korea. I already know this trip is going to be racist as hell. They are going to sing K Pop, eat K bugs and probably do K-araoke, which is also Japanese. But why not.

They go to some dance studio where they are going to dance with K Pop “legends” 2NE1 or something, which to me just looks like an address. Either way, I don’t trust ABC that anyone knows 2NE1 because no one knows anyone they bring on this show. Either way, the lead singer speaks far more intelligible English than any contestant on the show.

Scottsdale and her overly-bronzed surgical enhancements start fronting hard that she is an epic dancer, and I am sure the weekly roided dude she brings home from Scottsdale one-word nightclubs tell her that, but I think being tactically aware is a desirable trait and you should stop trying to outdance Vertical Natalie Portman who actually is a professional dancer who was so good she got to baby mama a future NBA player (depending on if you think that’s a good thing, either way, she probably can move).


I actually fell a little in love with Vertical Natalie because she kind of just shut up, gave it a respectful 60% effort and let Scottsdale just look like the first person to get killed in a horror movie some more.

By the way, her nickname is now Wet Mess. Girls are either clean, dry mess or wet mess. Dry mess is like papers are everywhere. Dry mess girls are always 20 minutes of organizing from being clean. Wet mess means your parents and you didn’t get along or they flat out quit because your room has a glass of OJ that now looks like a brillo pad from mold, you have extensions and false eyelashes stuck to your headboard, mirror, possibly your nails, the toes separators used for painting toenails are everywhere the way clean girls distribute candles and unless you are ten minutes from going to a bar, your hair looks wet.

Scottsdale is 100% wet mess, in the next week one of her buds will email me to tell me. That’s how this show works with this blog.

So they go to a K Mall to K Perform and Nikki (who is pretty damn funny and cannot be blamed for being annoyed by Crickets) doesn’t want to do K Dancing but she K Sacks Up and K Does it anyway. Wet Mess goes with her own choreography and manages to reveal side, top and under boob all at once.


At the K Cocktail party, Wet Mess and her chest bronze are all 50 Shades of Boobs as she tells Wapalo about her parents divorce (explains Wet Mess tendencies) and how she needs to be independent so when she meets an alcoholic like her dad to marry, she will have skills (not just dancing and being a wet mess) to pay the bills.

Miss Piggy commits the cardinal sin of Bachelor. I mean, she literally proves she has never watched the show or the K Chardonnay is too strong to control. She talks to Wapalo about other girls in the house, “for the wrong reasons,” blah-blah-blah. Start K-packing.

Nikki gets the rose, much to the K rage of the other contestants and Wapalo gives her a total Sean Lowe kiss. The producers wanted to make sure he learned to kiss in a way that is interesting to America, in the same way shark week is.

Opera Singer goes on a Juan on Juan and I realized that every girl this week had a matching undergrounder zit going on in the same location on their cheek. Harrison is smuggling heroin in these girls’ faces. He’s hilarious.


Opera is working a massive slow roll, she eats some weirdo food, whatever. Hey, we’re in a K market, that’s crazy. I could be watching Downton. Suddenly, she is singing and Wapalo and her are gross making out. I will say this, he actually talks to her and sincerely it made me feel bad for him being new to America and speaking no English. It was weird, they are vibing each other. Can’t believe she’s a contender.


Second group date is more K adventures where we are getting K marketed to by the K tourism board. When I saw they were going to Dr. FishZone, I wondered if this was some form of pregnancy clinic and the English translation was just super off, but no, this is a place where fish eat the crap off your feet.

And while Maniston’s mommy feet are absolute chateaubriand for these fish, if Wet Mess had even gone near it… SHARKNADO.

Crickets is stealing the K date and starts freaking out about eating octopus. I mean, one, that’s not a Korean thing and two, that’s the weirdest thing you can think of? I mean, Worse Version of District Attorney calls her out and earns my friendship by being like “whaddafuck yo, you can get that at the Italian joint down the street in Chicago” and I was like “CORRECT.”

And it wasn’t even 3 michelin star live, still moving octopi. This was like KFC fried hot sauce octopus. Just grow up or get eliminated already.

Whatever, more K-araoke in some weird floral print room and then it’s the night date where Wapalo decides he is going to spend 18 minutes being a good influence on Camila and not kiss people, including that one girl who flips out and comes close to K suicide (same thing, you just dance to happy music when you do it).

D.A. get the rose because “she gets Wapalo’s humor” or in other words, has no clue what he says and laughs because he is hot.

K Cocktail party, Miss Piggy hides her sequins under a kermit-colored dress, but you fooled no one and now are going home.

In the end, this episode was worth it for the K Pop lip sync at the end.

Next week, they go to Nam. Can’t wait. Nam joke city.

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Filed under Uncategorized

BachCap Week Tres Leches

Let’s get the big skeleton OUT OF THE CLOSET. Wapalo got his foot in his mouth (more than he does normally just trying to communicate in English) by saying some possibly misconstrued, likely el super Catholico comments about gay folks. Basically, that there shouldn’t be a gay bachelor season because they are “perverts” or a bad influence on children. He later said he isn’t great at English (no shit) and pervert wasn’t the right word and that he has lots of respect for gay people, but then a bunch more stuff about not wanting Camila to see two gay guys have kids.

totes straight.

totes straight.

Basically, I don’t care. I am pro love on this blog, but I am also pro ignoring everything that comes out of people on television’s mouths, especially broken English rants on morality by a guy who will make out with 27 women and then come home to kiss his daughter.

I think Wapalo is a good dude. I think he’s probably a little religious and frankly, we shouldn’t ask idiots questions we don’t want to hear the answers to. Between this and everyone flipping out about Richard Sherman on the Seahawks, America dropped the ball because there was a lot of shit we could have been giving a shit about but were too busy worrying what a man who is looking for a wife amongst NBA dancers, nudists, Sacramentans and breast implants thinks about gay people and the sanctity of marriage.

If you hang with Chris Harrison, you burnt up your vote on “sanctity of marriage.”  Find your mate in the jungle like the rest of us are (we are the 99%).

Damn, I’m sore from being on my high horse. No, for real. My horse is from Colorado and ate a ton of legal pot. He was a high horse.

Anyhoo.  BachCap? Si, por favor. Ya’ll have mundo. Usted me termina. I feel like that’s “you complete me” in Spanish. So much mundo. Aventura? Vamanos!

Harrison came out rocking color blocking on his shirt so severe, I thought the top and bottom of his torso were playing Tetris.


Vertical Natalie Portman gets the first date and while her and Wapalo seemed to be getting along, her boobs were clearly in an argument and trying to run in opposite directions off her chest.

Didn’t matter though because there was no escaping the Venezuelan U-Turn, which involves just driving your car into a body of water for no reason. Many thought this was a cool “helicopter” style date, but the truth was, in prepping for the show, ABC’s production crew realized Juan constantly pulled the Venezuelan U-Turn and for any scene where they were near water forced him to ride in a car that is also a boat. The behind-the-scenes of Juan explaining how he is such a good driver that he can make his car “walk on water” is classic television, especially if you see Harrison smoking opium in the background laughing at the dailies.

Actually, in the absence of a helicopter, I analyzed this water truck and it was called “Panther” which just felt like a fucked up name for a car that is also a boat. I mean, do panthers even swim? I feel like they just bounce around the jungle and fuck up wild boar and shit. In Seattle they have these boats and they all called “duck” or “goose” or things that we see go on land and in water without drowning. Panther?

They started making out in the water and that seemed cool until I realized the super said Vertical NP is 21 years old??? And she said she hasn’t been on a first date since she was 18? I’m no math wizard (because wizards are known for math), but this leaves a DEFINITE possibility that Rodney Stuckey got her pregnant before she was legal. I know she said 18, but I mean, we’re cutting it close for a pro athlete, right? I mean, do the Pistons take 18 year old dancers?


She told Wapalo that her mother was protective, but clearly that’s a loose term. Not so protective that she “had to go to college” or wasn’t allowed to “avoid school to dance in Detroit for low wages” or “get pregnant by an NBA player who didn’t put a ring on it before being able to order a beer.” Hoping her mom isn’t a bodyguard. She is not protective. She is a condom with puncture wounds.

So let’s just be clear. She is making us believe that she made the Pistons dancers, got pregnant and had a kid and posed for the following photos before being 21?

And why not stay with Rodney? They seem happy. But Trey is way older in the show pictures. I just don’t get the timeline. What is David Stern’s (NBA commissioner) stance on impregnating one of your team’s cheerleaders before she can legally buy beer?

She’s attractive, let’s give her a pass. AND A ROSE! Wapalo likes her because “she is beautiful and she dances” so girls out there, remember. Men totes care about your personality. FACESMACK.

Group date card comes in and I realized that Wapalo will literally not write a card longer than three words. A haiku would be longer than his invitations. It’s always “I KICK BALLS!” or “PANTHER CAR BOATZ” or “PHOTOGRAPH DOG BOOBS.” Best part is girls don’t have one fuck to give and are like “WHATEVER HE’S SO HAWT I LOVE HOW I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT HE’S SAYING.”

They go to the StubHub Center where Wapalo is playing with actual LA Galaxy players AJ De la Garza, Todd Dunivant and Juninho, who honestly should have been training after blowing their chance to three-peat and not effing around with a dude who played minor league soccer for like 8 years with 10 different teams.


But it was worth it when the girls showed up and discussed if getting hit the face with balls hurt or not. I mean, that’s low brow but until there’s a fucking helicopter, it’ll have to do.

The Opera singer is a pretty good sport because she gets booted in the face about seven times and judging by the tweets I get, that made you all happy. You betches.

Later that night, Wapalo talks about how cool it is to have a soccer stadium empty all to himself, but I mean, you played for Miami FC in the minor leagues. Pretty sure you are used to empty stadiums. Sorry, brah. Keeping it real.


The Opera singer girl and Wapalo share their first kiss and holy shit it’s the worst thing since Sean Lowe tried to eat food out of every girl’s mouth last year. I swear watching her kiss Sean would be worse than Two Girls, One Cup. NOT HYPERBOLE. I was going to puke watching this girl kiss Wapalo so she gets the name DRY HEAVE. That’d be so mean if you all liked her, but you don’t and so I guess we’ll have to agree to agree.


The District Attorney made out with Wapalo in a beer and wings concession stand, one short week after posing nude, in ABC’s secret reality series within a reality series “To Shame A Lawyer.”

Oh God, I think I just thought of Dry Heave kissing Sean Lowe again. I want to bottle it and use it as syrup of ipecac for children that need to puke up something poisonous they ate. Holy vomit it was gross.


Also, she said “mundo” like “muhn-doe.” You sing opera. It’s all in romance languages. How the hell can you not pronounce that? Maybe you just perform in Herman Melville’s gothic English opera “Billy Budd.” I’m cultured. SORRY I’M NOT SORRY.

The hot nurse girl get’s the rose and no nickname until I figure out what’s wrong with her besides her bird tattoo. I mean, we could call her Portlandia because she put a bird on it, but I’m not there yet.

Next date is with the second biggest set of teeth in the house besides Crickets. She actually seems reasonably fun. Extreme date alert. They are going to tandem bungee jump off a bridge in Pasadena after eating a bunch of Venezuelan food.

If you rewatch the scene where Wapalo is comforting and coaxing her to jump and just imagine it is a very private conversation about trying the kind of sex Wapalo says is too “pervert” for the Bachelor, it is probably the funniest two minutes of television that is street legal. “Relax, go back a little, do it for me, how do you feel, if you don’t want to do it it’s okay, if you can’t it’s okay.”


Also my wife just closed the browser.


This girl looks cuter after she bungee jumps, but making your wife bungee jump four times a day seems like a non-sustainable practice. Then she goes ahead and says if you can jump off a bridge together, you can get through anything, proving Miss Piggy right that she is, in fact, a child. The first time Camila tells her she hates her, she’d be like PEACE.

They eat and then ABC makes us listen to another band I’ve never heard of and the fact she had heard of them made me terrified. Even worse, she dances like the awkward girl at a 7th grade sleepover. I mean, she could be in a room of albinos and be the whitest dancer there. She could be north of the fucking wall in Game of Thrones and be the whitest person there.

I mean, not that that’s wrong. Just saying. She was so white I pronounced the H in wHite like I was a southern belle.

In the morning, Wapalo sneaks in to cook these girls arepas and when he told them it probably sounded like he came over to bring them “a rapist” and because this is reality TV and he’s attractive, they were stoked.

Blazy I rolls down with makeup on and then runs away because she “didn’t have make up on.” Producers clearly hate her. Maniston rolls down, zero fucks given. So few fucks to space that she literally didn’t even put make up on the rest of the day, even when she played mom for the 9th time in 3 weeks when Crickets starts melting down. She is like the Stage Five Clinger Whisperer. I want to set her up with one of my friends, she will help us all in the end.


Wapalo decides the cocktail party is a waste of time and demands a pool party to evaluate these women on their breast size, to which Scottsdale replied “CHICKEN FIGHT!”

Scottsdale was all like “bewbs” and the other girls were like “bewbs” and Wapalo was like “que” and then they all screamed “BEWWWBS!”


Dry Heave is all awkward balls again and complains about all the cameras because she really thought reality TV would be less intrusive. Wait until she discovers the patented “tampon cam.”

You never expect the muppets.

She calls him a tease and then makes out more. She was practically arepa-ing his mouth.

Free Spirit and Olivia Wild Wings are sent home. We barely knew you both, except we did know what Free Spirit looked like naked.


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Adios, Carlos.


Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap: Week Dos

Juancome back. Sorry for the day long delay. I contracted the devil cold in New Orleans on a bachelor party and it delayed our communal bachelor party. So, we’re celebrating on a Wednesday.

Maybe it was the cold meds, but I was really confused when ABC ponzi’d us by putting the first date card in their BS Sunday night broadcast. Look, this show is like a Las Vegas substance binge. It takes at least a week to recover from physically and mentally and really should not be attempted more than once a week.

It also guaranteed that we’d go to commercial and come back from it to the same material as Chris Harrison’s sweatshop knows how to stretch three hours out of twenty-six minutes of content. Don’t buy cocaine from him. Just kidding. He doesn’t sell drugs. He keeps them for himself.

Sacramento got the first date and this immediately depressed me because she takes forever to talk. A nickname will come up for her. But holy worst-city-in-California does she take forever to get a sentence out. And not in some slow drawl or speech impediment way. She just goes a mile a minute then pauses like the lights go dark as she searches for an adjective. Actually, let’s just call her CRICKETS, because we hear them when we wait for her to finish a sentence.

It’s like, “Juan Pablo and I are on this………….. incredible date and it’s absolutely…………crazy to think that this could be the beginning of an………..amazing Aventura with a guy who could one day………….become my husband.”

She also does the craziest stuff with her mouth, she full on does the SNL Tri Delt face. Look at the girl on the right!

Our Bah Chay Lore, or “WAPALO” as the girls pronounce it, arrives in a Tesla proving on top of being a good dad, completely incomprehensible to the human ear, in great shape, that he is also environmentally conscious. At least if you are pretending to drive a 100K car, you might as well pretend to give a fuck about the earth.

This whole episode was a return in a BIG way to the Harrison drug days. I think he cleaned it up the year of his divorce to maintain custody, but now that his day in court is up, this season is going to be Scarface.

Wapalo blindfolds Crickets for their drive to their date which sucks because we only had her mouth and her jacket she stole from the Rocketeer to focus on. They arrive at a place covered in snow even though it’s southern California. I went to USC film school and they told me this was a metaphor for all the cocaine Chris Harrison plans to do this season. Or, it literally was the cocaine and he was hiding it in plain sight. Cunning fox.


The played in the snow, got super hyper, got mostly naked and got in a hot tub and Wapalo got a back rub, which I think is his move. To be fair, Crickets has a nice body and I’m sure Wapalo was having a fun time en La Valle De La Cocaina.

Then, ABC found one of the former GEICO cavemen who really let himself go to sing some songs for them no one will ever remember except Crickets, who will tattoo the lyrics on her arm the minute she is sent home because Sacramento.

Next Juan-on-Juan was with Kat, who doesn’t get a nickname yet, but is the kind of skinny that makes you look old. In total contrast to Crickets, she looks way better with her mouth open. That was not sexual. For real, I promise. She’s 29 going on AARP.

Wapalo does his usual “act surprised constantly” schtick, which works because he is good looking. I think sometimes he’s just surprised that he can totally make up English words and no one even bats an eye.

They get on a private jet and Kat goes into the totally moronic “I can picture myself” speech, except this time she says it about flying around the world with her Latin lover. Kat, he doesn’t have a private jet. He has a daughter and a made up job. If by flying around the world you mean Southwest Airlines Flight 231 Burbank to Phoenix in boarding group B, then you got it right. Also, how on earth did you think he might be taking you to New York? What do you think the range on that plane was? You are totally as Scottsdale as Crickets is Sacramento. And not the nice Scottsdale with shopping and steaks and spring training baseball. The kind with nightclubs called “Wet” or “Ice”. That’s you.

Guess what. You’re going to Salt Lake City for the Electric Run, which is basically a 5k through a Las Vegas night club. It’s thousands of people dressed in neon running under black lights and umbrellas in trees and there’s glow sticks. It’s basically the douchebag tent at Coachella combined with the lowliest of “competitive runs”, the 5 fucking K. I run a 5K on the treadmill on off days, stop acting like you ran a marathon. You paid 40 bucks to run 3 miles.

Anyway, the Electric Run is actually a 5K that would be fun because you could drink during it (or take hard narcotics like Chris Harrison was on when he decided I NEED ALL THE LIGHTS AND THE COLORS AND THE SOUNDS!). The thing is, they fly to Salt Lake City and the crowd is sober as hell because Mormons.

If you aren’t terrified by thousands of hot, sober blonde people dancing their asses off while exercising in the middle of the night just because “life is fun”, than you need to watch more horror movies.

Either way, Scottsdale was the perfect person to bring, she came equipped with one hundred drunk, silicon enhanced dance moves. I’d bring her on that date even though I am not attracted to her.


Back at the mansion, the girl who constantly feels the need to show us how bad she is at local newscasting is wondering when she will get a date. I am wondering when she will get an upper lip or start singing Disney songs and staring at the ceiling longingly. I dub thee Lipmunk. Because her lack of upper lip makes her look like a chipmunk newscaster. Actually, let’s go with Chipmunk Newscaster. Who gives a fuck, she gets booted. Let’s just stop talking about her in general. Catch you on the news in case I ever have a layover in Hellsburg, Whereverthefuckyourfrom.

The next date is a big ass group date and they go to support some “let’s not kill dogs” thing and I know most of you will hate me, but I’ve had cancer twice, can we solve that first? I mean, adopt a shelter dog, I am into it. But let’s cure cancer. If we cure cancer, we’ll live longer and can save more dogs. Less cancer, more dogs.

They are going to do a photo shoot with dogs in dumb outfits to see how much mundo and Aventura these girls have. It’s a typical bachelor ploy and I am glad to see them going back to it.

Chris Harrison was weaving a masterpiece. Cocaine party, MDMA lazer party and now naked photo shoot. Basically his weekend, night by night.


The dog loving girl with the one eye that constantly looks stoned, like marijuana only effects half her face (Blazy Eye) got the gnarliest costume ever. It looked like she did the mud run through a fat dude’s colon. One eye looked pissed off. The other was like “Did you see the new Hobbit?”

Super Naked Flower Power was happy to switch to wearing nothing instead of Missy Piggy because YOU CAN’T BE NAKED IN FORTY FORTY FORT.

Chris Harrison then pulled off his greatest coup ever. He got a fucking district attorney to get naked on national television. This is a woman who deals with criminals, has a law degree, understands the internet is forever and Harrison still gets her naked on TV. How she was so self-conscious, not sure.

Good on Jennifer Maniston in make up. She may not be hot enough to win the day, but she is easily the best choice for a wife and mother.

Vertical Natalie Portman (the one who looks like Natalie Portman if she was stretched over a foot) tells Wapalo that she has a son (with Detroit Piston Rodney Stuckey who makes 8.5 million a year) and he’s super nice. She used to be a Pistons Dancer. I feel like 95% of Bachelor contestants pretend to do something else, but they are all former dancers. They all date athletes. Stop pretending you are under the radar.

Anyway, she’s good looking in a Natalie Portland genetically spliced with a giraffe sort of way (does it for me, how bout you?).

Wapalo takes world’s best natural body teacher Nikki to have what looks to be a really great chat filled with weird gestures and sayings that if they came without an accent would be creep city. Then all hell breaks loose. Jersey Shore Legal Assistant drinks a gallon of tequila on an empty stomach and goes to that special place college girls go to when they drink like that: A POSTOFFICE WITH A SHOTGUN.


I think every man in America gave their wives and girlfriends a huge kiss for not being that girl, because if they were, they’d not be wives or girlfriends. Guys at that level barf, fight, eat or pass out. Girls at that level are like eM0T!0N$.

This girl starts saying straddling people is the meaning of life and that she gave him the hyman maneuver, which I am pretty sure you can only give once and also pretty sure she gave it years ago.

Then she storms around confused for a while until she is in a full blown meltdown in a public bathroom, the scene of her one and only hyman maneuver years ago and Jennifer Maniston is the best human ever diving under the damn stall door to try and console a coked up badger.

Wapalo is super nice about it, I really dig his low key vibes. The girls are talking MAD SHIT until he shows up and then they are like OH I JUST FEEL BAD FOR HER HE’S SO KIND and then he leaves and they are like right back to OH FUCK THAT DRUNK BITCH.

I love girls. Even when they are crazy.

The next day Wapalo offers the Straddler a chance to make good, but she is basically a two year old, incapable of raising herself, let alone a child. I mean, make a good excuse. She was basically like I JUST GOT A LITTLE TOO RAD LAST NIGHT, MAYBE DEAL WITH IT, WHAT DO YOU NEED, LIKE A HYMAN MANUEVER?

She got cut like 4th period French.

Cocktail party, Vertical Natalie Portman starts crying and tripping out and Jennifer Maniston consoles her and even gives up the room when Wapalo shows up. She’s a peach. She even was wiping eye boogers off a rich cheerleader to help her make a good impression on a man she’s also trying to date. Someone marry her.

Miss Piggy dresses the part again. Maybe now we can start to expect the muppets.

The final rose goes to a girl that looks like Olivia Wilde if she worked at a Buffalo Wild Wings by the airport. Olivia Wild Wings.

Chipmunk Newscaster goes home. Some others go home. Let’s start trimming the fat and making some friends so I know how to really explain why they are broken.

Sorry for being sick, but this happens. For those of you tripping out (and I love you for it), check my TWITTER and I’ll always let you know where the post is at. Also follow me on instagram because I’m pretty fun to hang with. Links are below.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap Week Juan

What a day. I have been calling it “Week Juan” for ages. I call the one-on-one dates “Juan on Juans” and now finally, we are calling everything Juan. It’s Juanderful. I Juan to hug somebody. I just Juan somebody to love.

So, hola! We’re back.


And is there anything dumber than every girl saying “hola” to Juan as they arrive? I know everyjuan thinks this is super exotic, but with 37 million Spanish speakers in the US, hell, over half of Los Angeles is Spanish speaking, “hola” is about as exotic as knowing how not to stumble ordering a venti nonfat misto at Starbucks. You aren’t pronouncing vichyssoise correctly at a brasserie in Paris. Stop looking so proud. Imagine if one said “hello” in that Agador voice from the Birdcage when Gene Hackman comes over before Calista Flockhart died of not eating.

Wait, she’s still alive? No…

OK! It’s been a long offseason and it’s nice to be back chained to this effing computer each Monday until football starts again. It’s not, but at least I get an influx of good looking people who send me pictures (which I’ll post) of their viewing parties and flattering signs. That’s good for my confidence, especially up here in PDX where it’s cold and rainy right now.

It’s the first week, which means I am not going to bother knowing any of these peoples names.  I mean, when you go to dinner, do you learn the names of everyone eating around you? No. They’re mostly going home at different times and in the end it’s just the ones who stay to last call that deserve nicknames. For the most part.

So bear with me in the beginning. We’ll tighten it up.

Juan’s intro had plenty half naked beach running, because that’s the point. And then we got to learn about his made up job, basically a fluffer to athletes who speak Spanish. Given the reaction to the women in the room I was watching with, he should just charge junahundred dollars an hour to hang out and he’d be fine.


Actually, Juan is a likable guy from the way he pronounces “Bah Chay Lore” to the fact that he seems to actually love his daughter and family, so much so he brought along his padres to the Bach Casa to watch his daughter, assuring she would grow up normally and that I wouldn’t have to endure the poor man’s bearskin rug in front of the fire date for 18th season in a row, ABC you cheap bastards.

I mean, the more I saw Juan with his daughter, the more I am convinced Lady Veneers (Emily Maynard) thought her daughter was a hand bag. Hey Maynard, way to stick it out with One Direction (Jef with one F). None of us saw that coming. Oh shit, I can’t see my keyboard I rolled my eyes so far back in my head they’re stuck.

But really, what were the odds One Direction the band would out perform their relationship. That math makes my head hurt. I’m done.

There was a reprise of a newish Bachelor tradition of bringing the last Bachelor in for advice, which meant my birthday wish of never seeing Sean Lowe again wasn’t granted. Fuck that kid in Liar Liar. Why do his birthday wishes come true?

Anyway, Sean has been really annoying on instagram leading up to his wedding. I hate that this show gives people the self-importance to start dressing like assholes (Sean, you never wore all-over print button ups when you were just a virgin in Dallas) and doing constant media appearances. I managed to find love without a reality show. A lot of you did too. Basically, Sean, after your wedding, I don’t wanna see you. No one else does unless it’s in the snow.


I mean the only advice you could really give Juan is how to turn your skin darker than your hair. You’d be the shittiest X Man of them all. They’d call you Thermometer and if it got cold, the other X Men would know because you’d turn into a grey-haired troll doll.

Juan then asked him advice on kissing and I was disappointed that he lied. If Sean was being honest, he’d have just said “pretend she’s got food in her mouth and try to lick it out”.

I just got queasy. Get married and leave, Sean. Fade to black.

They did some previews of girls and most of them seemed okay. The single mom who throws a football better than either of the QBs in last night’s BCS Championship definitely gets the first nickname: Jennifer Maniston. She was pretty likable, but there’s a chance she’s taking HGH, but I don’t think this is like major league baseball. I think you can roid. You can certainly get breast implants. I say “play ball”.  Or “pelota”. So exotic. [fart noise]

There was CSI: Juan’s Crotch, an attractive young assistant DA who is tough enough to hang with the boys. She’s good looking and smart and will make your life hell. Can’t wait for her series on ABC. Not sold on her winning, but Juan should definitely say his employment status in this country isn’t exactly “street legal”. If she doesn’t arrest him, she might contend because she is hot.

Then there was the girl who cried the entire episode who I know we’ll see on all kinds of Bachelor reunion montages as if any of us remember she was even here. She already had her wedding dress after six weeks and admitted that on television. Stress has caused her teeth to seem like they are actively trying to get out of her face and she’s broken out big time because she is bugging out.

There was Old Man Torture, the surgically enhanced owner of an elderly home in which she wears revealing tank tops and ushers old men around from bed to bed. I mean, put me in a room with old guys when I’m there. Let me watch baseball. The last thing I want is some hot rod, beach bod reminding me it would take an injection of rocket fuel directly into my junk to have sex ever again while she gives me sponge baths and talks about her boyfriend who probably rides MotoX in the Florida panhandle.

Just shoot me. That’s not my game. That’s old man torture. Leave old men alone.

There was the girl from Sacramento who is disqualified because Sacramento. I’m sorry her dad died, but not as sorry as I am for Juan if she shows him the DVD her father made for her future husband. I am guessing he didn’t make that for a man on a reality show and he definitely didn’t want that on national television, but being that cocaine cowboy Chris Harrison is running the show, I think that dying man won’t get his wish.

At the mansion, Chris Harrison was wearing the same clothes as the night before (I know they shot the same day) and it reminded me how MESSED UP that preview was. The Gia part. They do this montage with people who were on the Bachelor for four episodes. I mean, one of the people was literally sent home night one. At the end of the tribute, they say for more information (like on suicide prevention) go to I did and was not surprised you had to click on BACHELOR and then on GIA’S STORY before finding any advice.

So, to clarify: The show used your grief over a reality star hanging herself to get more clicks to their site to increase ad revenue. If you tease help for suicide prevention and list, HAVE THE DECENCY TO HAVE A HOTLINE ON THE HOMEPAGE.

Hunger Games, bitch.

Chris Harrison told Juan that there were 27 girls this year, not 25 because of the incredible demand to date him. In television, this translates to “there are two producers’ daughters that demanded to be on the show to meet you and this is their way of making up for the fact that they missed a lot of birthdays and divorced mom”. I mean, incredible demand lead to 2 more contestants? Not 5? 10? Can I hear 15? NOT SOLD.

The limo scenes are such a cluster, but I remember a few things besides the fake boob parade.

The one girl in the gold glitter dress I swear looked just like Miss Piggy. It’s crazy when you call someone a puppet pig and it’s not because they are fat. I mean, this is totally avoidable and she decided to dress like she was about to sing Rainbow Connection with Kermit. You never expect the Muppets.

The soccer thing was cute, the piano thing was not.

The girl with the stethoscope who is a pediatric nurse is a Taylor Swift song waiting to happen. She’s too nice, too cute and all that to survive in the meat grinder that is the Bach Mansion.

My main takeaway was that Juan’s reactions (due to limited English and the fact that all of America wants to sleep with him) are identical to the reactions your parents make when you show them how to do things on their iPhones. It’s like “oooOOOohhh” and a little dance. So now I know the language barrier is like seeing FaceTime for the first time.

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One girl from Georgia sounded just like Eastbound and Down. If she lives, she is called that. I won’t remember her until she talks again. The first night is just like the running of the bulls if the bulls had extensions and were in wholesale prom dresses.

Let’s talk about the girl in the pink dress and pink lipstick and pink nails with the bright red hair. She comes in dressed like she’s waiting for Mario to save her from Bowser and then spends the rest of the episode shocked she’s not reeling Juan Pablo in. She should move to New York and play Mario against Luigi and date whoever likes her best. Both of those guys literally quest through magical kingdoms and fight turtle-backed death lizards for her hand. Juan Pablo needs subtitles to order an omelette.

I dug how Juan was drinking scotch but then drinking water. It’s better than watching Sean Lowe drink Bud Light like a ponzi. I mean, really. Unless Sean Lowe is inverting his skin and hair, I am not interested.

Juan also had lipstick on his cheek the entire time and no one seemed to care, I think someone is going to end up pregnant this season.

In the end, Princess Daisy and Week One Meltdown Clone went home along with a bunch of people I didn’t realize were there and let’s speed this up. It gets more fun when I get to know the women more.

No nickname for Juan yet. Need to leave you Juanting more.

Juan to follow me on social media? Check out the links below and see you Tuesday. We’re just getting started. Share with your friends. I like the attention.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

Guest Post: Trojan Coaches x Godfather Characters

My old, good friend Monish Tyagi is done being president of the student body at USC, but he’s not done being clever. He’s been a real favorite of the blog for years now, a part of the original sanctions bearfighting crew.

He sent me this comparison of USC coaches to Godfather characters earlier today and it’s pretty funny regardless of how much or little you agree. We both went to USC film school and I am sure they are thrilled to see what we’ve done with that education…

Follow him on Twitter HERE and direct your thoughts to him.

Again, this is a GUEST POST and a fun one at that.  TAKE IT AWAY, MONISH!


The Corleone Family (USC Football Coaches) 
By Monish Tyagi
Pete Carroll: Vito Corleone, The Godfather – At the height of his run, Vito, like Pete, was untouchable and arguably the most powerful Don (Coach) of the five families (NCAA). People loved the man as much as they feared his team. He was very close with his three sons (assistant coaches) whom he relied on and groomed to run the family business (football team). He was frequently warned of the threat of Virgil Solozzo (Paul Dee) and drugs (sanctions) but ignored them. Until one day he was visiting a fruit stand and was met with an assassination attempt (sanctioned) forcing him to retire to a long rest (go to the Seahawks) and see which one of his sons would ascend to the throne.
Lane Kiffin: Sonny Corleone – Sonny, the boldest of Vito’s three children assumed control of the family when his father (Pete) was no longer Don. Arrogant, brash, and with a violent temper, he often made miscalculated errors when he let his anger/cockiness get the best of him. Whether it was an untimely killing of one of the Tattalgia sons (switching jerseys), ordering a hit on a police officer (deflating footballs) or something as reckless as beating up his brother in law in public (banning reporters from practice, walking out in the middle of an interview, too many bubble screens etc) Sonny (Lane) showed a blatant disregard for the old rules and a tendency to pick battles that led to nothing (7-6, Sun Bowl loss). In the end, his arrogance led to his demise as he was caught off-guard and shot (fired) at a toll booth (airport)
Steve Sarkisian: Michael Corleone – The youngest sibling (last to join Pete’s staff), Michael always seemed to have the confidence of his father to both operate within the family business (run the offense) and one day become Don (succeed Pete as Head Coach as Pete has supposedly confirmed) However, Michael had other ambitions and didn’t think the family business was for him. He was always more calculated than Sonny (better people skills than Lane) and more intelligent than Fredo (better football IQ than Coach O) and although he tried to separate himself and go into hiding in Italy (Washington), eventually Sonny’s death (Kiffin’s firing) brought him back to assume his rightful place as head of the Corleone family (Head coach at USC). This decision wasn’t unanimously popular as many people thought he was too young, too disconnected and too unproven to lead the family during such a difficult time. But Michael had his father’s confidence and orchestrated a miraculous return to glory for the Corleone Family (time will tell for Sark I guess)
Ed Orgeron: Fredo Corleone – (While his appearance would suggest more of a Luca Brasi, Fredo is a better fit for our story). Fredo is the older brother who never got a shot. While loved by his father (Pete) and the rest of the family (USC), he was never one who was seen as fit to eventually become Don (permanent head coach). He seemingly lacked both the intelligence and leadership abilities of his brothers Sonny and Michael. He conceded that Sonny (Lane) should get the first shot as Don (Head Coach) and agreed to stay on board under him by running the family’s operations in Las Vegas (becoming Assistant Head Coach/recruiting coordinator). After Sonny’s death, however, Fredo is upset when he is passed over and the Don position is assumed by Michael (Sark). Although encouraged to stay in a high position under him, Fredo’s pride gets the better of him as he tries to make moves to kill Michael (stay as Head Coach). This move backfires, however, and he is denounced by Michael (resigns) for his betrayal (not staying to coach bowl game).
Other Supporting Characters
Pat Haden: Tom Hagen – A highly skilled lawyer (JD, Rhodes Scholar), Hagen is the one who earns the trust of the family (USC) to make decisions on its behalf, even if his decisions are largely criticized by others.
Paul Dee: Virgil Solozzo – Tries to encourage the Corleone family to enter the drug business (tries to sanction USC).  Vito (Pete) does not budge. Sonny (Lane) falls prey to his traps and suffers the consequences (has to coach under sanctions). Michael (Sark) comes in, cleans up, and takes care of business (hopefully puts USC back on track). Solozzo (Dee) dies (dies).
Chip Kelly: Phillip Tattaglia – Although Solozzo (Dee) was the one leading the drug charge (NCAA sanctions), Vito Corleone (Pete) always knew there was someone behind it. All signs led to Phillip Tattaglia (Kelly) whose family (Oregon) was generally regarded as inferior for focusing their business on prostitution (new jersey’s all the time; running weird spread offenses) and was looking for a leg up on the dominant Corleone Family (USC). But as Vito Corleone pointed out when identifying the mastermind behind the whole thing “Tattaglia’s a pimp” (Kelly pimped himself to the NFL and went to the Eagles) and “I didn’t know until this day that it was Barzini all along.”
Nick Saban: Don Barzini – Powerful, suave, and never with a smile on his face. It hasn’t been revealed yet because he plays his cards close to the vest, but sooner or letter it emerges that Barzini (Saban) was the one behind the plot to sabotage the Corleone Family (sanction USC Football)
*It may not be perfect and we still have to see how Michael/Sark does with the head job, but hey, that’s what the Godfather Part II is for*


Filed under USC Football

Truly, Some New Hate Mail

I admit, I thought I’d get more after my Coach O post, but for the most part people complained off my channels. It was meant to be brutal and that’s what I’ve always done here, with satire or with a harsh opinion. Either way, there was enough ad traffic in the first couple hours to buy me pretty much any bottle of bourbon I feel like drinking this weekend in Los Angeles, so thanks regardless of how you felt.

But I got a comment from someone who isn’t used to how it works around here, so let’s have a little fun.

This comes from someone who’s email mentions Arizona two times, in case people forgot he was repping AZ midway through addressing and email to him.

As always, here’s the comment:

Dear author:

Do you always use this many words to say so little? I’m very sorry I stumbled across this blog… the viewpoint isn’t wrong, it’s just completely uninformative/juvenile. Truly, my 8-year old could have written with more insight.

Thankfully, Alexa rankings suggest that not too many people are wasting there time here…that’s a relief.

Sorry I stumbled across this site…won’t return. Meanwhile, can I please have the last 5 minutes of my life back?

And then here’s the same comment with my annotations in bold:

Dear author:  This isn’t a book. It’s a blog post. I figured you’d get that when you used a device you plug into an electrical socket to find this post. Assuming you don’t plug your books into the wall. I’m a blogger. If I was an author, I’d be poor.

Do you always use this many words to say so little?  No.  I’m very sorry I stumbled across this blog… Me too, buddy.  Me too.  the viewpoint isn’t wrong, it’s just completely uninformative/juvenile. If it is uninformative, how can you know if it’s right or wrong? Also, in 2nd grade we covered that opinions could not be right or wrong. They are opinions. Juvenile would be bringing up that a child could write with more insight.  Truly, my 8-year old could have written with more insight. Truly, that was juvenile. Also, starting a sentence with ‘truly’ is a dumb way to try to sound smart. Readers at home, put ‘truly’ in front of you next ten sentences and see if you are starting to hate yourself. Truly, I believe you will.

Thankfully, Alexa rankings suggest that not too many people are wasting there time here…that’s a relief. Truly, without explaining to you that Alexa data comes from traffic patterns of the 15-20 million people that have downloaded and installed the Alexa toolbar to their browser (a large percentage of said downloads have since become inactive) and is about as accurate as pissing off a moving speedboat, I’m fine with you feeling relieved about the views you think I am not getting. What would I know? I’m just an interactive strategist. 

Sorry I stumbled across this site… Truly, I am sorry as well. won’t return. Truly, I hope you mean it. Meanwhile, can I please have the last 5 minutes of my life back? Truly, you know that time travel doesn’t exist, so no, you may not have your five minutes back. Truly, you must have realized that taking the time to comment added at least a minute of time to the time you stole from your own life, you thief! Truly, I hope you find those six minutes. Truly, I hope when you do, you are happy. Truly.


Filed under Hate Mail