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BachCap #4: Viva Las Shameless

**this post was written across many bottles of bourbon in many different locations, including Salt Lake City**

Live from NYC in the aftermath of WINTER BLIZZARD JONAS™, I’m hanging out in SoHo, working too much and just talking Bachelor with you fine people. There’s even bourbon. What a country.

If you’re here for the right reasons, let’s jump in. HEART FIRST™.

Chris Harrison hadn’t been to an illegal underground snake versus mongoose fight in months and so he demanded they film in Vegas. Did you wonder why he let the girls know that Ben was not in Los Angeles?

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It’s because he held Benilla against his will in a drug-induced fugue state at an undisclosed location until the producers agreed to offer a week of dates in Vegas in exchange for Chris Harrison releasing Ben and admitting he knows the real truth about what happened in Manatowoc County. I’m Serial.

After all that was sorted, he let the girls know they were going to Vegas. This was exciting for the twins because they are those real people that are actually from Las Vegas.

Their gleeful reaction!

It’s the same thrill a child gets when they recognize a word they learned at school on a street sign. It’s just basic recognition of something that exists that you are aware of. Like there’s an apple. I’ve eaten one of those. :: cue shit-eating-grin::

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Then the producers tried to make them talk at the same time because apparently that’s what twins do and they failed. The producers put it in anyway because they do not consider contestants REAL PEOPLE™.

This show is the weirdest. It’s pretty clear you are going to be invited places. The minute they come in and tell you anything, everyone opens their mouth so big a large part of me wants to throw a bean bag in there like I’m at some fucked up clown carnival.

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You know what turns folks on? THIS™:

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GOOD LUCK SLEEPING™.

Olivia is WAY TOO EXCITED™ and she shows us by showing us her tonsils, molars and all the other teeth I can’t remember the names of. Bicuspids. That’s one.

Ben is excited to take them to Vegas because it’s a place “people actually get married” which is cool because it has that in common with every other town on earth. Ben, demand more of yourself. And also, I want some In-N-Out. Bring it to NYC. I’m already in my sweatpants (they are fresh Nike camo ones, don’t think I’m frumping out, girls).

But seriously, Ben, we’d be friends and part of that friendship is me consistently talking you into BRINGING ME THINGS™ that I truly am TOO LAZY TO GET MYSELF™ and then rewarding you by telling you about MY LIFE™.

So.

JoJo gets the first date and that’s good. It’s been years since there was a bonafied potential STRESS EATER™ on the show. I’m not that shallow in real life, but I take incredible joy with this struggle. It’s kind of what I imagine NASCAR fans like. For most of us it’s boring, but if you’re all in on NASCAR, you are like noticing the tires are wearing unevenly. I notice her worrying about her arm girth. It’s palpable. WATCH THIS SPACE.

Also…

HELICOPTER. GOLD PLATED COOL FIN BLADED HELICOPTER. HELICOPTER TAKING OUT A TABLE OF CHAMPAGNE WITH IT’S RAW LOVEMAKING POWER.

I literally looked at the menu for room service and they don’t make carbonated tear elixir, so I’m out. THANKS SOHO GRAND.

JoJo was just like dude I wore something blousy – this is so dick that now I’m in a very revealing wind situation. My wife just closed the browser.

But you feel me.

This helicopter was so bad ass that all the girls were sure JoJo was in ROMANCE TOWN™ and they are right. Sorry. That’s a winning helicopter. She was fish in a barrel. It was gold plated.

This date sucks though. It’s one of those talks where they literally SAY NOTHING™ and it WORKS PERFECTLY™. My guard goes down. I get scared. There are things about you that are attractive. I never give myself completely.

But hey, kudos for trying to explain you were homewrecking by saying “you weren’t a part of their lives.” That’s legit the way the dude from Silence of the Lambs explains why that girl has to “put the lotion on its hands”.

Look. I feel bad for you dating a married man because in all likelihood you both are great, but the thing about married men is that they tend to have a hard time breaking up with the person they are in a LEGAL CONTRACT™ with. Like, even if you are winning by 10 points in the basketball game of love, you bet on the wife because she’s the CEO.

I watched the move The Intern on the plane and even though it was racist to people who use the internet, it got one part right. BET ON THE SPOUSE™. Even if he’s out of his depth doing dramatic work and should stick to Workaholics where he is superb.

You don’t want to be the SIDE PIECE™. No one goes to a restaurant and says I’ll have fries and a burger. You don’t go, “I’ll have the shaved brussels sprouts – oh, and let me have a porterhouse steak on the side.” They are steak frites, not frites steak. I’d know. I just ate some Raoul’s tonight and I told them to HOLD THE FRITES – carbs are for the weak, girls.

In short…

BE THE STEAK™, ladies. And men. America. Be USDA Prime, k? If you aren’t good enough to eat cooked medium rare, you shouldn’t be allowed in the oven. That’s a metaphor. My wife agreed, paused, then closed the browser.

Ben loved this talk though because JoJo told the truth, isn’t mean and rode in a helicopter with her. Oh, and then had the most enormous fireworks display ever. So yeah. Of course he left saying she has charisma and intelligence and humor. But there’s no evidence. MAKING A MURDERER™.

Group date is made to seem like a showgirl date. Lauren H. says something about nipple tassles being NOT GOOD™ but she said it in a way that had me curious. Like not good in the way we all think—like—wearing clothes is a good idea on TV? Or is there something devious going on? What’s the deal? Why did you go straight to NIPPLE FEAR™?

Also, still not over her being an UNKNOWING RASCIST™ the week before with the soccer moms comment about Queen Jubilee.

The girls are doing a talent show with Terry Fator, who I assumed was pretty good at entertaining because every time I am TOTALLY SOBER™ in Vegas and riding around in cabs, I see ads for him. He’s that dude that you see on some Forbes list as making 50 million bucks a year and you think he must be aces.

Then you see he’s a fucking ventriloquist who does the same voice with all his puppets, is overweight and ISN’T THAT INCREDIBLE AT NOT MOVING HIS MOUTH WHEN HE HAS HIS HAND UP A PUPPET.

Sorry. Like, he’s a millionaire. It’s working out. But he moves his mouth. Sorry. OVER THE LINE!

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The twins do an Irish tap dance. Jubilee is the best and plays the cello in addition to defending our freedom and being an orphan. The racist soccer mom lady dressed up as a chicken which felt super honest. I mean, all in all it was fine.

And then Harry Potter Mermaid dresses up in some red sequined dress and pops out of cake and then just tools around for a while. She then has a fake panic attack. Makes ZERO FRIENDS™ and wastes the next hour of my life telling Benilla she was “not herself.”

Dude, she was the definition of HERSELF™.

That’s her. I just hope when Ben cuts her it is super fun for us in America. Her greatest contribution will be on Bachelor in Paradise this summer when she dates “whoever still hasn’t found a that Hollywood gig that isn’t coming ever” guy. Looking at you Bukowski. And Nick. And Sean Lowe.

I don’t even remember who got the rose.

The final one on one is with BLANK SPACE™, the girl from Chris’ season who is still a virgin and despite being a pretty nice person, I have no idea what is going on between her veneer’d smile and generally down-with-whatever attitude. If a light beer ad procreated with a Martha Stewart recipe – it’d be Blank Space.

You talk to her, it’s like:

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Ben gets ordained – 20 bucks, five minutes, trust me I’ve married four of my friends – and decides to marry people that were willing to sacrifice what is traditionally an important day for the cost of getting married in a Vegas drive thru chapel. Next time you pick on a girl on Instagram who DIDN’T PAY FOR ANY OF THAT™, remember at least she went to Dubai and got to drink champagne. These folks got to have Benilla marry them for a free prime rib and a savings of 75 dollars. DREAM BIG!

Time out. Real quick. 70 percent of these girls are voting for Trump, right? Gut feeling.

There’s a random TWIN OFF date where Ben goes to their house, meets their mom who is nice enough and then cuts Haley like fifth period French.

I don’t care. This whole thing was weird and I’m against people who have wooden sayings hung on their walls. You aren’t a butterfly.

Ben cuts two people I don’t remember after Olivia makes ZERO FRIENDS™. JoJo looked smokin’ in her greenish dress. WATCH THIS SPACE™.

Oh yeah, he punted Amber who is a mean girl anyway and then she drunk talked to herself by some random pool. Whatever. 

Tomorrow, we go to Mexico. I cannot wait. Sorry this was late, but we’re caught up. CAN’T WAIT.

XOXO, Gossip Zack.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

BUT THEN WHEN WOULD HE HAVE TIME FOR VICKY CHRISTINA BARCELONA CAMILA VALENTINO GALAVIS?!?!?!

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.

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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 ABC.com. 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 ABC.com, 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.

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Bachelorette Recap: Week Eight

*Disclaimer.  I’m so pissed that there are no helicopters or anything good I am just posting pictures of helicopters and zip lines this week.  Deal with it.*

I was totally surprised this week because when we sat down to eat and watch the show (nothing celebrates America for Independence Day more than eating in front of the television watching people perform sex acts for “love”) we noticed our food tasted really bad.  Then I realized that The Bachelorette this season is such a garbage sandwich that all the food you eat tastes like, well, a garbage sandwich?

Have you ever eaten a garbage sandwich?  Sure you did.  You watched the show last night.  On a scale of one to ten, this season has been a colonoscopy that you are awake for.

The producers sat down and thought about how they could spice things up and start the show in a unique way.  Then the crackshot film production major from like, Chapman University, says, “let’s have her talk about how much she missed Ricki” and people were all like “yesssss”.

So after getting our daily, mandatory shot of “Lady Veneers and the Perfect Mother Routine”, she promises Ricki she can sleep in her bed with her, which seems like chemical torture given the amount of spray tan she has on of late.  Poor little girl probably felt like she was trapped in the pool at Marquee in Vegas.  This is what Joker felt like when he fell in the vat of chemicals.

Also, I feel like she said you can sleep in bed with me and then didn’t let her?  It’s hard to tell in her mansion where every room has a monster bed as if she was a Victorian queen, but I feel like she lied to Ricki and covered her in spray tan juice.  But yeah, best mom ever.  I got an idea.  Why don’t you go meet four guys families and make out with them on national television.  How’d that work out last time you went looking for a husband.

Whatever, stick your wet hand in the faulty socket.

Date one is to Chicago where Spidermehhh is still living under the delusion that his begging to be killed after Landon Datavan last week means he no longer is in the bottom 2.  This is just like being excited that if you are in line to buy an Apple product on opening day and you are fifth in line and the nerd comes out and says “we got 3 left”, getting excited when the guy in front of you leaves and you are now fourth in line.

Let me be clear.  Someone in front of you will need to die for you to get that iPad.  And that’s this.  Strawberry Blonde will need to die in a freak Sunday church stampede for you to survive.  I don’t care if your dad is Abe Froman, the sausage king of Chicago and you dress in the finest clothes.  Someone needs to die for you to get that iPad bro.

In proving Spidermehhh reads this blog (like all good people do), in explaining how Polish he was, he said on a scale of one to Polish, he’s Polish.  I’d say on a scale of one to Polish, your face looks like it’s a race for your eyes and mouth to see who can touch your nose first.  That doesn’t have much to do with being Polish, but I just wanted you know know just like you wanted her to know how Polish you were, which totally means a lot to Chompers who moved to North Carolina to avoid all people of all races, religions and ethnicities.

Spidermehhh’s parents are that supercollider combination.  They are both average looking people (except for Dad’s mandatory eastern European wide collar and huge religious necklace combo you recognize from every Russian crime film ever) but when they combine their sauce, they create hot people.  I’m sorry, his sisters were nails, all things considered.  I mean, Chicago is cold and the Polish diet is not known for things like kale and almond butter.  Who cares, these are the two hottest chicks in Chicago.

Proving Spidermehhh is kind of a tool in civilian life, his hot sister basically tells Veneers that she better let Chris down gently if (and she sounded like when) she figured out he was not going to win over a racecar driver, a fashionista with a charitable water company and a guy who blows lines of steroids just to wake up in the morning.

Then I feel like Spidermehhh’s dad lied to his kid about Emily being in love with him, although I may have missed what she said while trying to lock myself in our washing machine and drown myself.  Didn’t work.  Just like Emily being chosen as the Bachelorette.

One final surprise was a Polish traditional band coming over and beyond learning what that was, this was just a waste of Chompers time that she could have spent spray tanning some more.

Next.

Off to Jef’s Big Love Polygamist compound deep in the heart of Utah.  Just kidding.  It’s just a ranch.  His parents that are doing “charitable work” are back east methinks are converting non-believers and this gave Jef the perfect chance to have Emily see where he’s from without having to make her convert.  I’m not picking on any religion, just GUESSING that the more men you make out with in hot tubs en route to finding your blessed union, the less Mormon friendly it is.

That said, that ranch was crazy nice.  No wonder he can afford to be an entrepreneur with a water company we’ve never heard of.  It’s because land in Utah costs less than bottled water in NYC and Jef’s parents clearly would be rich for even London or Tokyo.  Combine them and they bought a county-sized ranch.

One Direction took Chompers shooting and neither of them missed anything on camera.  I said to my wife that Emily is from North Carolina and there is NO WAY she doesn’t know how to shoot a firearm.  You don’t move to a racist, all-white state to NOT own a firearm.  That’d be like going to a state fair and not eating a deep fried twinkie.  Move back to Russia, commie!

We got the obligatory “you’re hot holding a gun” comments we see on this show.  No matter what they do, they are hot.  Hey Veneers, if you are such a great mom, get Jef to say you look hot while stopping Ricki from having a tantrum and throwing food all over the kitchen.  “You look so hot when your kid goes batshit six year old and you have snot in your hair”.  Never happens.

Also, this was a big time gun endorsement.  You look hot with a gun?  Do I look hot with the gun pressed against my head because this show is making me want to kill myself?  Oh, I do?  Nice.

Jef brings her to meet the non missionaries in the family and there’s like a billion people and a girl named Kensington which means that despite being cute, she will end up an asshole.  Who was the last person named Kensington you met that wasn’t dreaming of draining small businesses of their resources?

Jef’s brother who got all the seriousness, but none of the hairline seemed like a good guy but I suspect there was a ton of stuff edited out.  I got the sense that every time he was going to bring up faith, they cut.  Still, he seemed like a good enough guy and he probably is constantly pissed he has 2oo kids while his brother rides skateboards, experiments with hairstyles and sells water with the same “he’s so hot” message as TOMS.

Chompers talks to his 34 sisters (or sister wives, sorry had to) at the compound and they avoided the hardball questions.  I just couldn’t get around the one sister who had to be adopted.  In a sea of blondes, she was the missing extra from The Godfather.

Then One Direction read a crazy sappy letter.  Any guy who expresses himself this way will have no trouble spinning a yarn about how he fell out of love with you.  Just a heads up.  They are starting to make me want to throw up.

Then HELICOPTER!  Just kidding, fuck this show.

Off to Scottsdale to kick it with Speed Racer and his European family.  His mother had the typical Arizona beef jerky skin going which was a total shame because 31 years ago when Arie’s racecar dad picked her up, she was probably nails.  He had two creepy acne twin brothers and a sister I kind of blocked out because none of them talked.  They seemed fine.

Then everyone started speaking (pronounced SHPEEKING) Dutch, which was this awkward:

Emily maakt me soms wilt doden mij, want ze is erg saai en deze show is bergafwaarts gegaan met haar als de ster. Soms HEB IK lang voor Chris Harrison te doen drugs maaltje van kliffen en vliegende helikopters en drugshandel verdovende middelen, maar wij worden getrakteerd op deze ongelooflijk saai seizoen dat maakt me vraag mijn zal wonen.

Shee my point people?  I will say that “doen drugs” is funnier than taking drugs and I am using that from now on.  You know.  Chris Harrison.  Hanging out.  Doen drugs.

There was an awkward mother conversation but who fucking cares.  I was counting the minutes until this ended by this point.

Next up was Strawberry Blonde who was so fucking red-faced and so fucking neon-shirted that he had to squint the entire time.  Immediately, Emily could picture herself living in Dallas because everyone is white, the climate sucks and blonde is the official state color.

They went to Strawberry Blonde’s mansion and met his seemingly normal family, except for the fact that the little kid’s backyard dollhouse was bigger than my first four apartments.

They tried to play a joke like Sean still lived at home and loved stuffed animals, but it barely lasted 30 seconds and then the joke was over and we went right into nice dad saying the perfect things combined with Sean saying he’s a muscle head who never gives in to girls.  We saw this with Brad already, so we know Emily digs it.

All I could think about was how fucking gross watching Strawberry Blonde kiss is.  Dude looks like a fucking frog eating an ice cream cone.  Like I get ill thinking about it.  Watch a fucking movie sometime that isn’t a porn, dude.

I’m cutting this short.  They found a way to ruin the hometowns.

We get back to the Peninsula in BH and Emily is dressed for the ice dancing portion of the Winter Olympics.  She goes up and ends the career of Spidermehhh.

They go outside and he’s about to rage.  I will never understand this.  Love is a preference thing.  Freaking out because she didn’t prefer you makes no sense.  Especially when you barely just met.  I get it if you get dumped after years and years and you want an explanation, but at some point you just say “fuck that asshole” and go find someone better (and hopefully hotter and into weirder shit).  You are on the Bachelorette, Chris.  She cuts a guy a week and the previous week you were crying IN THE ROSE CEREMONY after you couldn’t shoot an arrow like a human being after a movie about a little girl who can shoot arrows.   You begged to stay an extra week and were sure that meant you were safe and getting married.  You had this coming.  The key to a happy love life is to never, ever assume you have won.  The day I got married was the day I STARTED courting my wife.  Even low maintenance girls require maintenance.  They aren’t Honda Civics, bro.

Look, you may think in the limo that you are more of a man than these other guys, but none of them cried at a rose ceremony.  Go home, ask your hot sisters how to win.

Next week is the Caribbean dates.  Fantasy Suites.  If this show sucks next week, I may boycott the finale.  No I won’t, but I will welcome the offseason and the timeout the production staff hopefully takes before planning next season.  Admit it.  You all miss Ben now.  I know I do.  [stares whimsically at a window pane with rain falling on it]

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Bachelorette Recap: Week Five

Had the Bachelorette existed in the 1700s (apparently just after Filibuster believes Shakespeare was writing, sweet Jesus), our forefathers would have had it so much easier.  There is no way after seeing the travelling shitshow we call “entertainment” that they’d have fought so long and hard to retain the colonies.  I mean, truly, after watching this group tour London I am positive, the Redcoats wouldn’t have been coming, they’d be leaving.

The hardest part for me about this episode, besides everything that happened during it, was listening to Lady Veneers pretend to give a shit about London and recite the same 3 lines about William and Kate getting married.  Look.  London is one of my favorite cities.  They managed to shoot there on the 5 days a year it is not grey and foreboding.  That was misleading because while London’s foggy gloom usually foreshadows a wicked hangover for wild bucks like me, in this case it would serve a fair warning to Lady Veneers:  THIS IS NOT GOING TO END WELL FOR YOU.

We had to be spoon fed our obligatory watch Chompers and Child play on a hotel bed scene.  It was great.  We learned Ricki, despite being what, like six, still thinks dragons live in Buckingham Palace.  I don’t want to be hard on this girl, but isn’t six like a first grader?  Or almost one?  By first grade I understood the rules of baseball and am pretty sure I had no expectation that a fucking dragon was flying out of the Getty Villa.  This is what you get when your rich child has a 1700 sq. ft. bedroom and you let her watch Game of Thrones.  She probably thinks her mother is Khaleesi.

Anyway, the dates got rolling with some steamy ABC After School Special sightseeing with Strawberry Lemonade who was so excited to be in London they made him pack three pairs of “knickers” in case he got too excited.  Which he did on the double decker bus.

What immediately was offputting was the fact that Lady Veneers was clearly sick and had a frog in her throat.  This was mildly disturbing given the fact ABC went out of their way to show that it was possibly Lady Veneers was, in fact, having a torrid affair with Kermit the Frog.  A “frog in her throat”?  Chris Harrison, you pervert!  Emily is from North Carolina now and if there’s anything we learned in their last election, it is that marriage is between a man and a woman there.  Man and a frog?  Do you realize what kind of scrutiny you have put Chompers in?  How will Ricki Bobbi go to school and learn that dragons don’t live in Buckingham Palace (also the name of a Raleigh-Durham strip club) if she is constantly ridiculed for having an amphibisexual mother?  Why ruin the life of someone with such perfectly fake horse teeth?  They take marriage WAY SERIOUS in North Carolina.

I am kidding.  I support all marriages, even the 50% of them that fail.  Or 99% of them if they were formed on this television show.

Anyway, I wish I had more to say about Strawberry Blonde’s date, but he is so boring I want to find the dragon in Buckingham Palace and wear armor made of bacon in hopes I was set ablaze, eaten and sparred the obligatory “can I kiss you” move that everyone does with Chompers.  Is this because she is so hot that guys are freaked out just to let it rip?  Is this because she is from West Virginia and they based the film Deliverance on there and they are afraid she will lure them back woods and Ned Beatty them?  Is it just because with teeth so powerful you want to make sure she’s not chewing gum and creating the potential to have your face chewed off in light of the zombie apocalypse bath salt talk that’s been going around the east coast?

Nope.  It’s just because these guys are weak sauce and there has been one fucking helicopter so far and it is week five.  All of you apologize to Ben Flajnik right now who took helicopters JUST TO GET TO the helicopter he was going to use to go somewhere extreme.

When they made him say London is calling and then played a rip off too-cheap-to-buy-a-license version of the Clash’s “London Calling” a little part of me died and my wife and I spent forty minutes burying it in the yard.  Our neighbors love us.

They rode a double decker bus [fart noise].  They took a picture in front of a soldier [wet fart noise].  Then they had Strawberry Blonde give a speech about love where he sounded like Atticus Finch’s mentally challenged inbred donkey child.  Like, he was speaking like a lawyer-reverend-3rd grade speech class student.  And what the fuck was he even saying?

So you know what my wife deals with, I would have gotten up there and just read the beginning of “Trainspotting” (even though they weren’t British) while randomly nodding my head and flicking people off.  At the end I would have thrown someone’s digital camera over the fence behind me and than ran the opposite direction singing Girl From Ipanema.  Yes I’ll accept that rose, obviously.  You never expect the Muppets.

They kept trying to say London is romantic.  It isn’t.  It’s an amazing city, but it’s a city where they will give you Yorkshire pudding with beef jus in it while you are drinking heavy ale in a pub you can smoke in.  If you go out all day in London and blow your nose, it’s got soot in it.  Cops fight drunks in London over their pint which they have just walked into traffic carrying.  London plays for keeps.  It doesn’t play for romance.

Proof?  You went on a date to the Tower of London.  All that tour is about are dudes called Beefeaters (hilarious) telling you that you need to tip your executioner a lot so he cuts your head off in one fell swoop as many prisoners suffered a grisly death of like ten blows before the head came off.  If you have been to London on this tour, you know that it is just all about gross out stories.

So yeah, let’s go inside, eat food shipped in from an organic restaurant in La Jolla and talk about how many kids we want.  And what better place to talk about how many kids you want than the Tower of London in romantic…London.

And how about that?  Emily.  These dudes will make babies with you.  If you don’t quit asking, the porn music will start and you will have to put your money where your mouth is and conceive these kids.  Hell, you want so many kids, just have one with each of the top five and then marry the one who has the best DNA (or at least the one you think can get Ricki off thinking dragons exist).

He gets a rose, I went and got a scotch.

Group date was more England racism.  Let’s go perform a bunch of Shakespeare again.  The Talented Mr. Lipstick was legit creepy the whole time.  He took it really seriously, when the correct answer was this:

Which of my readers would not fall in love me with if in England in front of a bunch of hard core thespians who take shit way too seriously I just did a scene from Billy Madison and played BOTH Adam Sandler and that other guy?  Wait, you are all in love with me already?  Yes, I accept that rose and no it’s not hard to be so humble.

Filibuster grew back the Seneca Wallace and perved out hard when he got to kiss Chompers.  Speed Racer kept getting a red face and every girl everywhere was all like “awwwww”.  Seriously, from my California home it sounded like there was a cat genocide.  Get over yourselves.  Egg Guy was fine, but like I still just don’t have a name for him and whatever [fart noise].

The only other note was Kalon telling Chompers to “run along” so he could practice and America was outraged at the fact this douchebag was still a douchebag. DUN DUN DAH!

Also, Emily responded by saying “this isn’t Broadway” and I am thinking, Jesus ABC, you got her to memorize all this other shit about London but you couldn’t get her to say West End instead of Broadway?  England like invented the play.  THEY WERE IN ENGLAND DOING A PLAY FOR A DATE BECAUSE ENGLAND IS SO FUCKING THEATERY.  Just because Veneers is boring and her daughter still believes in dragons doesn’t mean you get to phone it in and not give us helicopters or fact checking.  I mean, shit.  In Belize they were like explaining the top exports and gross national product over a ten year span.  GET IT RIGHT.

Then, in more English racism and because Harrison had to go pick up some Diana Ross (they call cocaine that there sometimes, especially if you look dumb and American, are on Spring Break lost in the West End after your mother bought you tickets to see Lion King and you drank a lot of tequila in a weird bomb shelter bar right before curtains up), they went to a pub for a pint.  Derp.

That’s when the fireworks started because Talented Mr. Lipstick called Ricki baggage, and in fairness, who wants to tell a kid dragons are only on Game of Thrones.  Dad decided to throw him under the bus and then Filibuster stood up and was all “that was not a cool thing to say” and the pile on began.  Lipstick was defenseless.

Lady Veneers said she was gonna go West Virginia, hoodrat, backwoods on him, only then she let Doug do the hard work.  I don’t think she knows what West Virginia, hoodrat, backwoods is, because again, it’s Deliverance.  It’s a deformed kid playing a banjo.  It’s “squeal piggy” (please don’t see the movie if you can’t handle rape, Burt Reynolds or both).  It’s not kicking a man in a women’s sweater out of a pub to leave England in a minivan.

Filibuster bought Emily a present and what was hilarious was she totally started coming around to him, proving my point that to be on this show you need to be the kind of girl that can be bought off by jewelry and 11th grade football player game.  “I’m gonna ignore your beard shape and the fact you are a walking erection and just accept this gift because it would go great with this racerback I just bought”.  Seems like only yesterday he was writing her 7th grade poetry and calling her a future fat chick.  I love Filibuster so much.

The worst part of this date was that Emily, who apparently wants a man’s  man, expected all these guys to puke and tell her what Kalon had said.  A man’s man doesn’t puke.  He gets a guy like One Direction to puke and then says “I was gonna tell you but he beat me to it”.  Emily is creating a house full of super whiner assholes out of a house of whiner assholes.

Next date was One Direction who was wearing a suit right off the Bonobos catalogue.  How did he pack for this trip?  He had casual high sock Bermuda wear for last week.  Now, he is ready to go riding in case the show’s British racism lead to a spontaneous polo match.

They went to an etiquette class that was just a failed experiment.  Jef was fine.  Emily was sick and bored and just for good measure, they faked it like they ran out.  The lady came back in doing her best Hogwarts professor “WHERE ON EARTH DID THEY GO”.  Speaking of which, anyone else feel like HBO has been playing Deathly Hallows Part Two on repeat for a month now?  It’s the new “Call Me Maybe” which was the new “Levels”.

They left to… GO TO A PUB.  Again.

Jef ordered two pints and a fish and chips.  Racist.  (I know this is not racism, but nationalisticisimsmsm, but let’s be honest, I don’t remember what I just wrote.  You never expect the Muppets and on a scale of one to ten…  Dragons).  Look, fish and chips is fine.  I get it.  But two “pints”.  This is like ordering two “glasses” at a bar in the use.  A pint of what One Direction?  Tartar sauce?  Urine?  Oh, beer?  Got it.  Pick one.  We have 200 on tap because it’s England.

Then, super fun, One Direction says something about a Chloe handbag.  I do not claim to be an alpha male (alpha males don’t need to claim anything, we built this city on rock and roll).  I mean, look, I lived in Beverly Hills and am aware of ladies’ brands and the basics of couture.  My Chuck Taylors are made by John Varvatos.  I mean, I am kind of a dick.  The thing is, I didn’t know what a Chloe bag was.  Now I do and I know one thing:  Jef shouldn’t know about it.  He also said like “a Chloe handbag you’d want to keep forever”.  I always thought Jef was just a mellow slow roller, but maybe he’s just super into fashion or maybe, like Emily, he is into Kermit the Frog too.  Like, he’s not a Miss Piggy kind of guy, but I bet he knows what purse she wants.

Yeesh.  Emily was won over by Filibuster’s dumb necklace, so Jef might be the new Ames.  One Direction seems wrong.  Both Directions, probably.  Good for him.  That’s so not Salt Lake City and I dig it.

They then went in the London Eye, talked a bunch about nothing and it was boring.  Jef did however say he would have non-stop all night dance parties with Ricki in Salt Lake City which sounds terrible, just like Salt Lake City.  [fart noise].

Then, like everyone else, he asked to kiss her, but at least wasn’t gross about it like Speed Racer, who leads with more tongue than an ear, nose and throat doctor.

Cocktail party, Chompers just interrogates everyone as to why on earth they wouldn’t sell out a guy who would never ever win.  Filibuster continues his headfuck by just doing the thespian thing AGAIN, but it works and now Emily can be bought by jewelry or the even more timeless male tactic of “be a dick, then be nice, rinse and fucking repeat”.  Thanks Agoura High School for teaching me everything I needed to know to cover bad reality television.

In the end, having only to do with the fact he was the last non white dude on the show, Alelelelejando was booted.  Forget the fact this guy was gonna be a banker.  Forget the fact that the “mushroom farmer” as ABC calls it actually invented a way to grow gourmet mushrooms out of recycled coffee grounds which he has sold to Chez Panisse and Whole Foods and got a grant from Berkeley.  Emily likes white dudes with Seneca Crane beards that bribe her and treat her like shit.  And will lie to Ricki about the existence of dragons.

Off to Croatia.

Couple things…

FIRST.  A BIG ASS HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO KAARIN O. AND HER LOST ANGELES FANS WRITING FROM SEATTLE.  Seriously, I hope this birthday feels better than a helicopter ride in the Alps.

SECOND.  At the urging of many of my readers and now a few of my friends, I am going to do some advice posts.  Send me an email at lostangelesblog [at] gmail [dot] com and ask me your question.  I’ll hide your real name, all that jazz, but I will also solve your problems.  Want to Filibuster?  I can help.  Want to STOP A FILIBUSTER?  That too.  Send me some emails and I will post more content and probably save your world.  All I ask is that you name your kid Zack (boy or girl, don’t care) and buy them a hot ride when they turn 16 so they get some hot dates.

LASTLY-  FOLLOW ME.  My tweets are legend.  Instagram is now heating up.  Facebook fan page gets extra content.  Keep an eye out for me on ConnecTV, I’ll be doing some live chat on Tuesdays.  Google them to learn more.

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Bachelorette Recap: Week Three

On this very special Memorial Day, I chose to remember all the fallen suitors over the past couple of seasons.  Just kidding, I went to a baseball game with my wife and we drank beer and ate meat in tube form and sang the national anthem.  That’s how we do it, America.  Then we went home and watched Bachelorette and in a way, the terrorists won.

Hope you enjoyed the long weekend more than the contestants are about to.  Clip’s full, let’s unload some shells.

Lady Veneers was in bed in the beginning of the episode to show us that she is just like the rest of us.  Like all of us, an odd 38 year old doppleganger mother brings us a plate of hummus, meat and vegetables in bed so that we may eat virtually carb-less before we even take off the make-up we pretended to sleep in.  Traditional as Thanksgiving Dinner, right?

I just had to ask, where was the power sander they use to keep those chompers so white?

I hate the trend in this show where the producers make the dudes say something after they read what’s on a date card.  I mean, I laughed at how close to 70s pornography it came when the card read something like “come close to my heart” and I think Filibuster was like “that I can do”.  It’s just that now when they write anything, the dude has to be like “blurrrrhghg”.  I can’t deal with a totally throw away sentence.  I talk a lot, but I feel like there’s a point most of the time.  When someone reads a note that’s like “fly with Angels” and then they say “I’m just happy to fly anywhere with an angel like her” I am pretty sure ten shelter puppies die.

So, the first date went to Spidermehhhh, who still looked like Toby is he was swinging on a web and then went face first into a brick wall.  I got to hear the hot new catch phrase of “I’m so happy to be here” eight times as they walked through Charlotte which I never knew until now looks like Gotham City from the “shitty Batman years”:

They get to a wall and down come the rope climbing apparatuses.  Too perfect, right?  Spidermehhhh has to climb a wall.  They lock into the harnesses and start going up the wall super slow and awkward.  Lady Veneers clearly had to sign a deal where she had to be fun once every 3 weeks which was tough because that meant every three weeks we’d miss the zany antics of Half Damon substitute teaching at a children’s homeless shelter.  YOU ARE ON THE BACHELORETTE DON’T TRY TO SAVE THE WORLD JUST RIDE A HELICOPTER GET WASTED ON OAKY CHARDONNAY AND MAKE A MISTAKE IN A HOT TUB.  kthxbai.

Anyway, they are climbing this building and Spidermehhh sucks at it.  Lady Veneers has the mandatory “I don’t think I can do this” moment and then Spidermehhh is like “I’ll be there in a second to help you, derp” and then he can’t figure it out.  So they just climb up and he doesn’t kiss her.  He even had a lightning storm.  I’d say the no kiss was a nice slow-roll but it was a no-roll since she gave him an in.

Meh.  Some talk about him being young.  I considered making a smoothie out of Drain-O and Comet.  More lightning.  Then they go downstairs for a Luke Bryan concert and this asshole knew the words which in my mind made him an asshole.  I know now from my wife who listens to music besides dubstep remixes of disco songs (I know what the ladies like) that this guy is popular and if you like country you probably know the words.  I’m sorry.  Ladies, good life lesson.  If I guy likes country music first, he will expect you to cook and probably try to box you one night when he finds his old high school football trophy and wonders what his life has become.  Just marry the guy who still tries to go to Coachella into his 40s because at least there’s no surprises.  I think we’re all just trying to feel comfortable with the kind of douches we are.  Don’t be country douche, even if the blonde with fake boobs and chompers likes country.  Believe me, she liked Brad.  If you told her industrial goth rock was what you were into, she’d support it so long as you were vaguely racist and gave her that minivan full of babies (which gets creepier each time I say it).

So Spidermehhh forgot that Spiderman won all the girls over by just kissing Dunst upside down and actually asked Emily if he could kiss her “at the end of this song”.  What’s next?  “Can we procreate after this re-run of Grey’s Anatomy?”  Kill me now.  Way to NOT look like a 25 year old who has never been with a hot girl before.  You can’t say you are mature and ask for a kiss once a song ends.  Even that asshole last season made out with Hey Bear when they were at the Bellagio fountain in Vegas.  And that guy cried at PS I Love You.

The rest of this date ended with Spidermehhh delusional in believing he was special and that Lady Veneers had an unbreakable bond, the kind only forged in the hot steel of a boring climb up a building in which you couldn’t give her the standard “mid-air reassurance hug” OR the “we just climbed something, let’s suck face”.  See how that works out for you, brah.

Team date.  Sweet!

Chompers came out in a green top that was like “boobs” and then all the dudes showed up in the park and what better place to find love than in a park…

Emily came out and we saw how there is zero correlation between having an athletic body and being an athlete.  The last time I saw people throwing footballs like that was 9th grade powder puff practice.  Also, every dude is bringing back the look (that I don’t think was ever in) of like a shirt way too tight for their shorts, almost like they had Under Armour on, which again might make sense if they threw a football at least at 14 year old girl level.

Shit was like a V-Neck convention in Williamsburg (Brooklyn, not Virginia).

So Emily let’s us know that instead of helicopters (again), we get to bring back her lame ass friends including random Indian lady and beef jerky, who I am now calling Chelsea Manhandler.  I mean this chick was so scary.  I was being nice calling her beef jerky.  It was so much worse than that.  She made the facial moves of an old farmer who has changed the way he moves his mouth to avoid involuntarily spitting tobacco on people coming to buy his crops.  That and when she made Strawberry Lemonade take his shirt off (yes, that’s what I am calling the random blonde guy who gets a really red face) she looked the way women look at coffee shops when you know they have 50 Shades of Grey on their Kindles.

Side note, I’ve read a few excerpts.  Girls, if you can read this crap, stop bothering your boyfriend about his porn.  If porn is string cheese, you guys are making burrata from scratch with that book.  No double standards.

Speaking of double standards, Filibuster had a great episode and by great I mean I think he slips quaaludes to goats and takes them out to dinner.  First of all, what made him decide to shave an evil beard?  Did you guys see that?  It was full on the Seneca Crane.

On top of that bold choice, he continued his awful game (that works on many girls) of just sort of bumrushing her and not letting anyone else talk.  His strategy is noble, like that of the light brigade who charged boldly into the fray with little hope of survival, in that he is simply going to play the odds that he can box out every other man, despite the fact that the show is designed to foil this plan.  I guess how smart do you expect a guy who shaves a Seneca Crane beard to be?

Then, in a move WE ALL KNOW works wonders, he told Lady Veneers that if she got fat he’d still love her but not love ON her, right in front of her miserable friends.  This is so aggressive I thought it might even work.  I don’t think it will long run.  Filibuster is a meat puppet.  His fall will be delicious.

I blacked out most of the other conversations and the part where kids came out to play just because I couldn’t deal with Chelsea Manhandler any more and also, it just seems weird to me that on this show mothers sign release forms to let their kids play with suitors.

The night part of the date was brutal because Dad was basically like “hey, my story is so depressing you will need that ridiculously overfilled goblet of oaky chard to get through it” and while I liked Dad more for his foster home story, Emily’s tears were a sign that he’d gone into the friend zone.  You bought yourself some time, but save the sob story truth until she is into it.  He’s legit a tough dude and seems like a great guy, but just from a strategic place, you want to wait longer.  He’s been all “my kids, my sob story”.  He needs to be like “I want to make babies with you” and then it’s like “how do you know you can handle it” and he’s like “my father was an orc who died in Middle Earth and I raised myself amongst the hobbits and eventually saved the day” and she’d be like, “damn I thought you just lifted weights” and then he’s like “no, Chompers.  I lift nations”.

I just got fired up.

Strawberry Lemonade got the rose, right?  I forgot.

All I know is that Barry Manilow self destructed for no apparent reason.  He said his kid was sad he was gone, but Dad AND Chompers both told him that five year olds don’t remember the dump they just took, so let’s keep it real.  Barry Manilow wanted to go home.  He wore a really awkward sweater and the awkwardness was too much and he had to get home to his kid who didn’t need him at home at all.  Something else was up with this dude (besides the sweater).  I guess we’ll never know and I am pretty sure I’ll forget about it before I finish this… what was I talking about?

Kudos to Lady Veneers though for basically saying “Dude, I’d make you stay but you aren’t winning so yeah, maybe kick it with your kid because I am not intending to adopt him”.  Cold shit, Chompers.  Like novocaine, which you are intimately familiar with.

Final date card went to Speed Racer, who I’ve said from the get-go had an inside track.  He’s a rare blend of extreme sportsman and total puss.  For a girl like Lady Veneers, it could be too much to handle.  His hair gives One Direction a run for its money.

It was easy to tell how Emily felt about Speed Racer because, well, she went with the asset-enhancing sweater/cowboy boots/non existent jean shorts look which typically works on dudes that haven’t dated cowgirls before.

Lady Veneers has effectively replaced the helicopter with the far more boring private plan as they puddle hop around the scenic armpit of the USA.  I mean, didn’t Ricki Bobbi’s dad die in a plane crash?  Like, on Brad’s season being at the racetrack fucked her head up, but now she can date a race car driver and fly tiny planes around the south?  Lost.

And what better place to be lost than DOLLYWOOD!

A celebration of country music, roller coasters and places I will probably never go, Speed Racer and Chompers roll around Dollywood continuing her tour of places this poor bastard will have to hang out at if he wins her heart.  Then, in SHOCKING FORM, Dolly Parton herself came out to surprise Emily.  You never expect the Muppets.

This was actually a great moment.  Besides the fact that Speed Racer can’t dance, Emily was so excited I was actually happy with her and you kind of have to respect Dolly for being 200 years old, a silicon pioneer and faithful to her man.  She also, subsequently, sings awesome and is a delight in most movies she’s in.  I was happy for everyone.

Ironically, Emily (just as she had done to Brad), basically locked up with Arie and this shit is over for now.  Only One Direction has the kind of game required to deal with what Speed Racer did.  She was super into that shit.  It was even more obvious at the cocktail party.

Cinnamon was amazing when he told Emily it would be a compromise to adopt Ricki.  I thought it was language barrier at first, but then was delighted when he smiled like a moron and said “no language barrier, fuck your baggage”.  She kicked him off and got super upset and Speed Racer took the inside lane to a makeout sesh.  Dude is icing the competition and Filibuster hated it.  He was speaking like this shit was Gladiator.  I can’t wait to see where this goes.  Filibuster is a walking Viagra side-effect and Arie is the opposite.  Should be fun for us.

Don’t care about the egg smashing.  Nothing fun to say.

The Talented Mr. Lipstick proved the producers have a say in who says in the bottom half of the rose ceremony because after his wildly douchetastic “I love the sound of your voice but let me finish talking” Emily was out.  Still, this douche got a rose.  Somewhere, Bentley is stoked because at least that asshole might be fun to golf or have a beer with.  Talented Mr. Lipstick is the biggest asshole ever, and I don’t mean he’s a jerk.  I mean asshole like “who the fuck is this clown shoes MFer” kind of asshole.

Party MC got his record scratched.  He seemed fine.  At least it’s a short flight to Jersey.

You know where to find me (add me on these social links below) and I’ll see you next week when maybe there’s a freaking helicopter or hot tub.

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Bachelorette Recap: Week Two

I’d say good morning, but it isn’t.  Last night my worst fears were realized.  The Bachelorette, much to my prediction, finally jumped the shark.  It’s hard to jump the shark when your show typically involves dates where you take a helicopter to a place where you actually jump over sharks, but ABC menage a trois’d to do it.  I warned them that Lady Veneers would be boring.  I warned them she’d make them do all kinds of “I’m a good mom” shit and that half the country would be fooled, but what has two thumbs and is going to call it like it is:  THIS GUY.

Fair warning, some nicknames will change as we get to know these idiots.

Let’s just get right into it.  Ryan, the guy who gives steroids to children and has more jawline than a Luke Wilson convention, gets the first one on one date confirming that despite the fact Lady Veneers keeps saying she wants to move on to a better guy, will still just pick the more athletic-obviously frat rock asshole out there.  Look, I love to hang with frat rock asshole, but I’m a guy and I think it’s funny when people like Lady Veneers say “I need to protect my hand” before shoving it into a wood chipper.

Real quick, he gets a new name and that name is “Filibuster”.  That’s because later in the episode when Barry Manilow tries to steal LV away from him to show her how much he looks like the animated mouse star of An American Tail (or Fievel Goes West, your choice), Filibuster makes her read a 7 page note that was so dumb I was sure it was the collection of all his love notes from middle school.

Anyway, so Filibuster gets the first date and if you couldn’t smell that this dude was a huge dick from a mile away, you are sleeping.  Ladies, a man owes it to you to have unique game.  No man goes to the gym that much, played pro sports, and wears really thin v-neck shirts because he wants to raise you kid. He spent his whole life learning how to do just enough so his coaches wouldn’t ride his ass like your high school jeans that don’t fit anymore.  He is going to say whatever the fuck he needs to say to make you think he’s all good and you will hear what you want to hear, ignoring intonation and better judgment.  Ladies, if you are dating a man like this right now, get out, he’s lying.  If you are that guy, don’t worry.  Keep doing what you are doing because she is going to ignore it and my advice, and that will probably make you enjoy it more (even though you told your friends at the bar last week you were bored).

Prior to the date, Lady Veneers had ABC stage that she actually hangs out with old chicks.  There was a beef jerky tanned mom, a strange Indian lady who didn’t talk (convinced they just brought her over from another family hanging at the park) and then someone else I couldn’t remember because I was so confused that ABC wanted us to believe the biggest celebrity in Charlotte hangs out with old chicks because they are moms of Ricki Bobby’s friends.  Also, she was bringing them there to have them take her to soccer?  That was a “big help”?  Yes, ABC.  We totally believe you.  It was way more convenient to set up a shoot at a park with 3 strangers and then have security escort Ricki Bobby to soccer than to just drop the damn kid off.

Look, I get it.  You want to be promiscuous and respected at the same time.  Unless you date Party MC, it can’t happen.  You can’t have your pie and also have sex with it too.  We all have to choose.  You chose to be the Bachelorette after saying how you hated it.  Stop ruining my Magical Helicopter Tour of the Known Sexual Universe, marry a fat guy who is a doctor and let HIM make your Hummer Limo filled with babies.  You are insulting my superior intelligence.

So, on the most painful date since Hey Bear took assholes to random Asian markets nine weeks in a row, Filibuster gets rescued from the standard homoerotic all-male sunbathing revue at the mansion to get in an Aston Martin and go on some magical date.  Only because Emily is hellbent on showing us she’s a good mom (good moms don’t go on the Bachelorette in the YouTube era), she makes him bring in groceries and bake cookies with her.  He used a fucking whisk to stir the batter.  Seriously meat stick?  I don’t care if you don’t cook or bake, does that make any sense?  Just on a basic viscosity vs tool level?  Yes, I know how to bake and cook, but that’s just because I’m perfect.  I mix drinks that kill people in far off lands without me knowing.

So Filibuster could not have looked more unamused this entire time.  Didn’t bother Chompers even a little bit.  She just kept saying what a good sport he was, even when she made him come to soccer practice and sit in the car and he clearly was giving her the “fuck you” face, which if you date girls, you know works when they are insecure.  Don’t be that girl, readers.  Don’t do it.

Look, just because Filibuster literally said the right things didn’t change that he didn’t try to put any conviction behind it.  When I was young and lied to girls, I did it like One Direction did it.  With a stony, what’s he thinking-slash-what’s he staring at on that fictional horizon in the distance sort of panache.  And it works.

Filibuster was relieved to have a normal Bach date in a douchey restaurant in Charlotte called “Osso”, because no one knows upscale Italian like North Carolina…  Now, please tell me you can picture Beef Jerky and Emily’s other 2 friends hanging out with her at a place like Osso.  TRY HARDER ABC.  Harrison’s divorce is affecting my enjoyment of this show.

So the entire date sounded like farts were coming out of Filibuster’s mouth and Emily being like “hooray!”  Then she kept repeating he was hot and that since Brad was hot, it might not work out.  Right.   I am sure you’d have trouble meeting an ugly guy, Emily.

Finally, they went outside and some band called like “Pomegranate” or “Bananas Foster” played some country girl please kiss me butt jam and Emily showed she has less rhythm than a broken windchime.  Also, we learned that phrases like “journey to find love and what better place to find love than Charlotte” are gone, giving way to both “I’m so happy you’re here” and “there’s no place in the entire world I’d rather be”, which were repeated incessantly by everyone the entire episode, including James Van Der Geek who later shit the bed on his date.  We’ll get there.  If I don’t kill myself.

Date two is theatre related and I am just glad I don’t have to watch Hey Bear dance in a midriff again.  They go to a theatre and ABC jumps the shark on a Disney cross promo that somehow ruined both The Muppets (who are awesome) and the Bachelorette (which sucks but in a really good way like all 90s action films, which also have helicopters).   Anything this show does, you only need one Kevin Bacon to get it.  Disney and ABC are the same company and a Muppets sequel is on the way (that part I endorse).  I mean you had to wonder how a couple of years back Barenaked Ladies were on the show.

I did enjoy when Party MC said “no one expects the Muppets”.  Picture like a violent film and then Fozzy comes out and stabs a terrorist and says “No one expects the Muppets”.  It’ll be hard, but I am keeping that line for a rainy day.

The next 40 minutes were an LSD trip far stranger than the one on Mad Men this season because it came from Chris Harrison’s mind.  You had Half Damon afraid to public speak because of brain injury.  They even pulled out the Creepy Bachelor Theme for his talk about brain injuries.  Really, ABC?  It’s not scary, you’re just dicks.

Side note, see how Filibuster was super cool about that situation?  He’s a good teammate.  Emily, that’s how he acts when he gives a shit.  He will leave Ricki at soccer practice and bang one of your friends.  Don’t be a push over.

You had Kalon, who now is being called either The Talented Mr. Lipstick or Drool Intentions (mid season form, ladies) being all excited for theatre, but then all annoyed he has to be on stage when he sings later.  You had Emily and Kermit in some weird fucking cheating fantasy for Kermit.  You had Harrison kicking it with Waldorf or whoever and I was pretty sure my wife had slipped mescaline in my white Russian.  What the hell was going on?  Then there was a dance routine where Emily looked stiffer than a dead guy planking.  Fellas, she might not be fun when the lights go out.  Just saying.

One Direction had to propose to Miss Piggy (who by at this point I wished was the Bachelorette) and he totally nailed it.  He’s rocking the head fuck that Frank from Ali’s season did and that my homeboy Ben Flajnik rocked Ashley’s season.  It’s showing girls you have the ability to give a shit but not specifically giving a shit about them… Yet.  Dot dot dot.

That was confirmed at the cocktail hour later when he didn’t even look at her and simply played it coy and said “no YOU’RE making me nervous” then there was a ton of “I’m glad you’re here” and shit.  You never expect the Muppets.

Then you had Arie totally nail it and become the front runner, only because he’s nice and confident, has a little Zach Braff in him which is key to winning this show, and he drives racecars and that is what Emily should NOT want, so of course, she’ll want it.

Party MC and the Talented Mr. Lipstick went at it a little bit and even though I agreed with Party MC, it’s hard to watch a dumb poor guy fight verbally with a rich smart guy.  It reminds us of middle school or whenever your awkward stage was (mine is right now, I’m a USC Football blogger and bourbon fanatic who covers the Bachelorette, welcome to my awkward years).  It was literally like watching Zoolander try to talk shit to Hansel.  I got a newsflash for you Walter Cronkite.   Yeesh.

Rose went to One Direction.  Told you.

Next day at round two of “Naked Guys Sunbathing”, Dad got into it with Talented Mr. Lipstick when the luxury brand consultant sort of talked shit about leaving Dad’s kid at home to be on the show.  My friend pointed out how weird it was that Dad talked about tucking his kid in and he’s 12.  I didn’t catch that, but I did notice how this week the kid was made to be extra old and how he gave his Dad the “you gotta get out of the house and find love again” speech.  Your kid isn’t a Hilary Duff movie, Dad.  You don’t tuck him in and he doesn’t give you love speeches.  Just stick to lifting weights and having a kid.  That’s your sweet spot.

By the way, when he got pissed, he totally talked shit like a Dad, which is scarier than a gangster.  He was saying like “back up and apologize” with a smile.  Talented Mr. Lipstick shit his pants which sucked for everyone in the hot tub.  Dad got all True Blood vampire puffed out for the occasion.  He may not know how to make up stories about his son, but pretty sure he could pull the face off of a douchebag from Dallas.

Second date is with Dawson’s Geek.  He came out wearing some shirt that defined “shirt you see at store and immediately know you can’t pull it off even in Las Vegas surrounded by people on blow”.  Didn’t stop Dawson.

Unlike Dawson from the show, this guy had nothing to say.  He just smiled, repeated what she said, nodded, derp herr de durr, and then got on a private plane to go to ONE OF EMILY’S FAVORITE PLACES?!?!  Yes…  Maybe somewhere cool?

West Virginia?  Mehhhhhhhhhhhhh.  Isn’t that where they filmed Deliverance?  Fuck.

So they go to this hotel that only someone from West Virginia could think was cool.  It had a creepy indoor pool, weird wallpaper everywhere and astroturf on a balcony.  I get that people sometimes think shit like that is amazing, but it isn’t.  I am sorry.  Call me new fashioned, but give me the fucking Four Seasons, waiters that love being ignored and no “love clock”.  Fuck that love clock.  But really, considering what was coming, fuck Emily putting something in the love clock.  You could have skipped that part if you were really going to drown Dawson in the creek.  I know when Lady Veneers figured out she didn’t love a dbag in a pink plaid shirt she cried because it would hurt his feelings, but let’s keep it real here, if you cared that much you wouldn’t have made him fill out a card for the love clock two seconds before dumping him BEFORE THE FUCKING FIREWORKS SHOW.

Dawson’s Geek was shocked.  It felt out of left field.  But then again, you never expect the Muppets.

I think it is cold shit to make someone check out the love clock and then note let them see the fireworks.  Whatever.

Rose ceremony was highlighted by Harrison’s shirt/tie combo.  Plaid on plaid?  Insanity.  He definitely picked it out when staring in the mirror during his Muppets “trip”.  Harrison, can we just kick it already.  Stop fronting.  We could run this city.

No one interesting got kicked off.  They kept Party MC just to keep Talented Mr. Lipstick on his twinkle toes.

As I predicted, Emily is a boring ass Bachelorette.  She’s super hot (but Ms. Piggy had better teeth and she doesn’t have teeth) and she seems nice enough, but she’s trying to hard.  Be the southern girl who got preggers way too young and chased race car drivers.  Let the Ricky Bobby out and this season has a chance.  And if I don’t get a helicopter that YOU chose in the next two weeks, it will be hell to pay.  Currently “I’m not glad your here” and there “are lots of places in the world I’d rather be”.

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Bachelorette Recap: Week One

Welcome back readers.  I have been on a long journey since we last spoke.  I’ve taken a helicopter tour of the world and rappeled off of every bridge I could find no matter how small, large or Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.  I’ve been to exotic Asian markets and painted shit on lanterns and kites and made people translate for me.  I’ve pretended to eat dinner while drinking bad Chardonnay.  I’ve gone on a journey to find an answer to a burning question (not that burning question, I’m sure it’s just razor burn).

Why do you guys read this?  How have I become the destroyer of contestants, the scourge of showrunners?  What makes these recaps unique.

Then I saw Party MC in his Inland Empire suit calling the guy who arrived in a helicopter “Helicopter Guy” three hundred times and realized that you need me.  You need a man who is not afraid of calling people awful things for the purpose of entertainment.

Tactically, there was a huge concern with this season.  Emily Maynard is pretty much an impenetrable fortress of boring ass hotness.  She’s all southern belle and besides the fact that she stole Jim Carrey’s dentures from The Mask, she’s pretty much an awful person to make fun of.  Every year I miss Ali, the Muppet, who could not stop making whining noises or frying her extensions or dressing like a highlighter.  This year, we get a hot, boring sort-of-widow with a kid who rarely pops off and comes off dumb.

So what do I do?  What do you think I’ll do.  Let’s tear this asshole apart.

I mean, the resemblance is there.  Don’t get me wrong, Emily is hot and I think we’d all be fine with the fact that 75 percent of her face was installed by a dentist.  I’m not perfect either.  But when picking on someone like her, best to stay superficial.  We wouldn’t want to tap into the fact that she gave birth into the richest family in all of NASCAR or calling her a hypocrite for being so “I would never be the Bachelorette or do anything to mess with Ricki Bobby” and then “being the Bachelorette and sticking Ricki Bobby on a swing set wearing a shirt with her name on it before letting her get rid of a bunch of red balloons to further fuck with the already-fragile-from-NASCAR-fumes ozone above North Carolina”.    Heavens no.

If we pick on Emily, the well-mannered orally armed hot boring girl, we’re going to do it for her teeth.  I thought Lady Veneers would do the trick.   I mean, she is a lady after all.

Okay.  Let’s get our Bach on.

First off, as I say every season, I hate the first couple episodes because it’s like, why do I need to get to know these guys so well?  I mean, let’s be honest, the minute I met the one African-American from LA on the show, as much as I wanted to get to know him (mostly because he kept talking about how attractive being a single mother was and I was gonna call him Mom Fetish and everything), I know that this is the Bachelorette and unless your name is Ro-bear-toe, you are not going to win the Hunger Games.  It’s racist.  Let’s just put that out there.

Also, sorry in advance to Portuguese Cinnamon, the Brazillian guy who kept looking at Lady Veneers boobs even when she said “gracias” confusing Brazilians for Spanish speakers.  Sorry also to Pablo Escobar, the nerdy guy from Medellin via San Francisco who thought this was 1998 and just kept speaking Spanish to impress Lady Veneers.  Newsflash.  You don’t live in North Carolina because you like diversity.  I’d be working the other angle Alejandro.  Say your mother named you after the Lady Gaga song and that you just want to learn to love American football and Thanksgiving and killing terrorists.  The Spanish thing worked when “La Vida Loca” was big.  At this point, we’re just looking for non-douches of any race.

Let’s rewind.

Lady Veneers intro was as boring as she was.  She just kept talking about how hard life is and walking around her ridiculously expensive 8 level house and tucking Ricki into a bed nicer than I could afford until about a year ago.  I mean it looks like all she does is spend Hendricks racing money and drive a white Denali to pilates and back.  Seems rough.  And please stop with the “men don’t crowd around me at the super market”.  That’s because they are too busy tripping from rubbernecking at you.  I have to call it like I see it.  She’s single because she wants to be and she is the Bachelorette because she wants attention.  SHE WAS ENGAGED TO ONE OF THE RICHEST RACING FAMILIES IN THE HISTORY OF PUTTING GAS IN AUTOMOBILES.

Harrison showed up stoked about Alejandro getting on the show, his personal dealer from Medellin.  He also was stoked because nothing is trippier on acid than going to a new Bachelor mansion built in Charlotte that looks exactly like the one in LA.  He was triple stoked because by the end of this season, he will be the one making babies to fill up Lady Veneers minivan.  He touched her a lot.

The weirdest part was when he interviewed her (after she stared blankly into like fifty sunsets) and was trying to get her to be emotional about her dead rich fiance.  He really laid it on, not that she cried or showed human emotion.  He was all “so when he died, calling your name on an exploding plane filled with orphans and humanitarian aid and the codes to deactiviate an Iranian nuclear device, were you sad?”  Harrison, you left your wedding ring on, but you don’t have to pretend it’s the one from Lord of the Rings.  You don’t have to be evil.

Anyway, we met a few nerds before the show.

I know all you girls think Arie was super hot and that Emily is shallow enough just to dig another race car driver and guess what.   You are right about the second part.  It didn’t matter that his Jonas Bros hair cut got effed up and he had the worst Cowlick I have ever seen, Emily was a girl and just was like “I know this is bad, so it makes perfect sense, let’s run with it”.  In fairness, the fucker looks like a dangerous banker character from Gossip Girl.  Cowlick has a good chance to win this thing though and if you are from North Carolina, you don’t look for culture in museums, you just go from dating a NASCAR driver to a Formula One driver.  So Euro.  So hot.

There was Jaws, the dude who played pro football, had a lab-bro-doodle and was stunting the growth of children by feeding them steroids and making them do crossfit.  Totally good for them.

There was a personal favorite, the guy with the brain injury.  I really liked this guy, especially when he scared Lady Veneers into touching his titanium face and then scared her again.  I mean, the guy is totally nice and has had a really hard life.  Being on a collapsing balcony is messed up.  That said, I would be lying if the dude wasn’t only half there most of the time.  He stares off into space a lot, almost like there’s a sunset on the horizon that the producers are point at.  Half there…  I dub thee, Half Damon.

Then there is Chris, who looks like Toby Maguire if he got smashed around by the Hulk like Loki in Avengers (ya’ll saw that right?).  It STARTED as Toby Maguire and ended as a weird claymation experiment.  I mean take a peep:

I kept thinking of names.  Broby Maguire.  Cidar House Rules.  I am going with Spidermehhh.  He bores me more than Emily.  If they get married it should be filled for a sleep therapy DVD.

There was also the singer/songwriter guy (who not surprisingly goes immediately into the subway where he performs) who looked like he was reading lyrics to a song that just consisted of him singing “Emily” over and over.  Look, Maroon 4, you suck.  Quit now.  I am hoping the fact you were a first week elimination gives you the kind of rock bottom you need to get a job and stop spending your time figuring out how many layers you can get between your skin and your “I play music” leather jacket.  If I haven’t heard of you, you aren’t a musician.  You are a waiter.  Play by the rules.  Now fade into nowhere and let us forget you existed.

Then there was Doug, the first impression rose winner who I am just calling Dad.  Not much wrong with this guy, but you don’t go on the Bachelorette because you don’t have a big ego.  When Lady Veneers said she wanted a minivan full of babies, she meant ones that came out of her junk.  Don’t let the fact you are a nice guy and have a cute kid you exploited fool you.  You’re Dad.  Now teach me to play catch and get out while you have time.

Let’s talk about Jef (sweet spelling asshole).  I want to pick on this guy, only he makes it hard.  He doesn’t ride a skateboard well enough to make fun of him for it.  He’s somehow pulling off that asshole hair cut.  He owns a freaking water company that functions like Toms Shoes (girl heroin) and he lives in Salt Lake City and must eat Zanax like Pez because every time I expect him to douche out, he kind of plays it mellow.  He also was like “people don’t like me because of my hair and shit” and basically, he spun me on that.  I am like, you are right.  Whatever, I am calling him One Direction and we’re keeping an eye on him.

James Vandergeek?  Dawson’s Geek?  Either way, way too stoked to be there.  Thought he was going to shit his pants.

Let’s talk about Kalon.  I’m sorry.  This dude isn’t into girls.  Women want to believe Ryan Phillipe from Cruel Intentions exists, but he doesn’t.  A man who wants his intro to be with another dude getting a slimfit suit tailored isn’t into girls.  Telling Emily she is a princess.  Honestly, he’s here for Ames and let’s just make that happen for him.  That’s the thing I LIKE about him.  His fashion sense.  The way he strategically holds his cocktail (vodka, what a joke) like a microphone.  He thinks he’s in a movie.  Let’s get to the BAD part (besides the freakish amount of Carmex he puts on his lips).

I mean, the guy pissed me off showing up on a helicopter.  THE BACHELOR/ETTE DECIDES WHO WILL RIDE IN HELICOPTERS ASSHOLE.

Look, what he did was literally like showing up to Thanksgiving and everyone’s already eaten and is farting in their sleep to the glow of the Cowboys game on television.  You can’t jump the gun.  Now I am all confused.  It’s like I have to sneeze but I can’t sneeze.  I hate this guy.  In honor of all the Carmex, I was going to call hip chapstick, but instead for ruining the helicopter thing, he’s just called Crapstick.  Or Douchebag.

I recently got a hold of his memoirs from a trip to LA via an unnamed source (I am not actually kidding about this).  I have to post it at some point.  He’s the biggest douche of all time from his Urth Caffe visit to his adventures with his guy friend “Cary”, it’s too much.  It’s like two guys that dressed up as Vincent Chase for Halloween.  In WeHo.  It’s painful.  Maybe I’ll post it.

Then there’s Barry Manilow.  Super nice dude from Oregon, kid seemed great, but no matter what happens I just keep waiting for him to break into song or leave to perform in Vegas.  Also, the glass slipper thing, on a personal level, made me want to kill myself.

Let’s get into some intangibles because you can write forever about the first episode (and I don’t want to because it’s better when people are gone).

Emily dressed like a figure skater.  The see through back?  I thought she was going to start ice dancing.  It’s hard to make Lady Veneers not look hot.  I don’t know why they insisted on trying.  She should have come out in the damn sweater from her day at the park with Ricki Bobby.  Nails.  I don’t get it.

Also, what was up with her turn around for everyone getting out of the limo.  It was the same angle, same direction everytime.  Zoolanderish almost.  I thought I was having a seizure or a flashback.  Maybe a sunset kept sneaking up on her?

In fairness, this show suffered from Emily doing a great job of diffusing every situation.  She just sort of rolled with everything and never let the drama in.  Sure Crapstick and Party MC were beefing a little bit, but Party MC seems like the kind of guy who drinks a Four Loko or two and just starts staring at people like a creep anyway, so we can’t blame Veneers for it.

From the preview of the season, I am only sure of one thing, which I am sure will be the theme of the whole journey to find a future divorce.  Emily Maynard ruins guys.  She is so hot and boring and nice that men truly believe they won’t find another one of her.  She’s also set for life financially.  She’s heroin to dude.  She just wants to make babies, look hot, not argue and probably make breakfast.  We didn’t meet her folks on her Brad hometown date, so we can’t be sure of her genetics and if it will hold up, but I feel like it will, anchored by her veneers that would survive a nuclear winter.

You can see how many dudes cry in the preview.  Emily is the destroyer of dudes.  Even Brad was inspired to stop beating women for a period of time in the glow of her perfection.  If there are fireworks, it will be more from watching her pull the light from their eyes.  Men will dive out of helicopters.  They will cut their bungie cords mid-fall.  Emily is the alpha bachelorette.  Men will be broken.

Can’t wait.

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