Tag Archives: bachelor

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?

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::

Screen Shot 2016-01-31 at 9.16.42 PM

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.


You know what turns folks on? THIS™:



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™.


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.



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!


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:


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.

Click the links below – I’ve enjoyed getting to know you all on Insta and friends.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap Week Tres Leches

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

totes straight.

totes straight.

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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


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

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


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

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

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

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


Also my wife just closed the browser.


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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

You never expect the muppets.

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

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


Remember to follow me on the social platforms below and send in pictures of your viewing parties. The more you flatter me, the more I will post.
Adios, Carlos.


Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap: Week Dos

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

I love girls. Even when they are crazy.

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

She got cut like 4th period French.

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

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

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

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

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






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap Week Juan

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

So, hola! We’re back.


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

Wait, she’s still alive? No…

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At the mansion, Chris Harrison was wearing the same clothes as the night before (I know they shot the same day) and it reminded me how MESSED UP that preview was. The Gia part. They do this montage with people who were on the Bachelor for four episodes. I mean, one of the people was literally sent home night one. At the end of the tribute, they say for more information (like on suicide prevention) go to 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.

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






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Strawberry Lemonade on DWTS

I have a confession to make, but it’s the best kind of confession.  I have seen maybe three episodes of Dancing With The Stars.  There was a a period of time where I’d see DWTS on Facebook and think it was some form of post traumatic stress disorder that people where excited about for some reason.  Now, I’m using the acronym in a blog title.  Boom.  Progress.  Can’t slow me down.

I received a lot of tweets about Strawberry Lemonade being on this show and I avoided it much like I avoided Bachelor Pad.  Basically, I just don’t find much skill in making fun of something that isn’t taking itself seriously to begin with.  Like shooting fish in a barrel.

And then Twitter made sure I knew Sean had to do some YMCA Prom dance and basically I had to check it out.  It’s long been my suspicion that being the Bachelor in most cases can lead to thinking the world is rooting for you, when in reality the world hopes you fail at your marriage and admit “hey, choosing a wife via game show maybe wasn’t the best call.”

The Bachelor often tries to extend his fifteen minutes of fame to like seventeen or eighteen minutes of fame and they become that college guy at a high school party who you accepted when the party was raging, but now you are trying to clean up before your folks get home and why is Old Balls McGee still sitting on the couch asking if my friends know the younger brother of his friend.

That’s Sean on DWTS.

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There was a lot to learn from the four minute clip I watched.  For one, Sean’s dance partner whose name is like Metroid or something was way hotter than High School Soccer Player, which would have been fine if he didn’t hang on her like one of his ill-fitted suits from a Rose Ceremony.

She knows something about dancing and says Sean is awkward at it so he retorts by telling her he “knows something about dating” and then gives her a rose.  Sean knows the same amount about dancing and dating as he does about kissing.  Just because you are aggressive doesn’t mean anyone wants to see you do it.

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The first minute of the clip was them rehearsing and Sean shaking his crotch at her like Ace Ventura when he figured out the sliding glass doors were soundproof.  Then, when doing the YMCA, he picked the “manly” costume and was a construction worker.

Sean, I know you have never done hard labor, but the only construction workers that dress like that were either in the Village People themselves or dressed as the Village People at the WeHo Halloween Parade (which, like the Rose Parade, one of LA’s best traditions… to be wasted in front of cops for.)

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Also, he looked like he had just been born.  I know he’s into being a born-again virgin, but I mean he looked like he was just born physically.  Someone decided let’s “manly him up” by rubbing him down in baby oil to dance to The Village People.  Catherine was in the crowd and somehow found this attractive.  I think my wife is terrified that one day I start lubing up my body and dancing disco aggressively.

But if that didn’t bother her, surely the judging would…

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Every chance he had, he rubbed his baby oiled facade against Metroid while his fiancee was like LOL OMG EHMAGHERD THERTZ MER MAYNE.  She missed the point that he had spent a week air humping a superior, self-confident catch who doesn’t randomly stare into space and talk about how she is cursed.

Note to daters.  If your significant other tries to make their fifteen minutes last longer, the two of you won’t.

XOXO, Gossip Zack.





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Ruling on a Fantasy Bachelor League

All rise, Judge Zack is in the building.  In this post I play judge, jury and executioner.  Kind of like Judge Dredd (the first one) only bourbon, not roids.


Reader Bethany participates in a Bachelor Fantasy League, and an intricate one at that.  She wrote to me to settle who might be the winner of their league as Strawberry Lemonade’s ultimate failure at anything but crunches and assuming Jesus picks who he marries made this season pretty rough to watch with your eyeballs.

The thing is, the fluctuating rule set the players opted into caused chaos and an improbable comeback occured to the point that the league ended up a dead heat tie.  

I am here to settle this.  My word is the law.  May God have mercy on your souls and make you virgins again if you believe Sean that God has this power.  

Meagan and Laura finished in a tie, but to rule, we must understand the situation.  I won’t get into the details, just suffice to say I have read their league rules and being a genius, feel comfortable doling out victory.

First, let’s look at their fantasy teams:

Meaghan – Team You Never Expect the Muppets 


LauRa – Team Sean Is My Aladdin and Helicopters Are My Magic Carpets
Meagan had a special place in my heart for her team name, clearly a homage to my celebration of one of the greatest lines in BachCap history.  That said, Laura did two things right.  She capitalized a random letter in her name and all her players names because one of AshLee’s 30 parents did the same thing to her.  Additionally, her helicopter appreciation would cause me to give her a rose.
Next, I had to get into what happened during the year.  How did this happen?
LauRa got off to a very slow start in the league while Meagan came out of the gates like a rum drinking monkey that accidentally lit itself of fire and didn’t seem to give a shit.
The league agreed upon rule changes during the year because their original system (which included points for being the first rose, first in a hot tub, etc) got boring after a while.  I believe they all had an accord and in a brotherhood of gentleman, an accord means we accept these rules even if they come back to bite us in the ass.  You never expect the muppets.
So going into the final week, Meagan lead LauRa by a staggering 211 to 159.  LauRa’s slow start seemed fatal, but apparently with the new rule set, LauRa was poised for greatness.
The agreed upon new rules for the final episode.  Here they are:
Says she can “see herself living in Dallas” – 5 points
If Sean picks up a framed picture of the girl and holds it – 5 points
Parents tell Sean she’s “not” the one – 10 points
Is the girl who wrote the note – 10 points
If Sean’s little niece or nephew step on the girl’s toe – 10 points
Wears a “strawberry” (pink, berry, red) or “lemonade” (yellow, beige, gold) color dress to the final rose ceremony – 10 points

Points for guessing!!!

If you correctly guess whether or not Sean is filmed shaving in this episode- 10 points
If you correctly guess how many times Sean is shirtless in this episode – 15 points
If you correctly guess who meets Sean’s family first – 20 points
If you correctly guess the color of Chris Harrison’s first tie of the episode – 25 points
If you correctly guess any previous “bachelor contestant” who offers Sean advice (Emily does not count and one guess only)- 30 points
If you correctly guess who wrote the note – 35 points

A trifecta of events brought on the tie.  LauRa gained 15 more points than the also genius-level at math and science Meagan, plus gained points for Sean proposing and capped the improbable run for the tie with her having Catherine on her team, the winner of the show.
They sit tied in Bachelor Fantasy League purgatory until now.  I asked their league commissioner to send me pictures for the blog and to see if it helped me learn anything.  It did.  They girls are down with photoshop and probably are fun to party with.  
Meet Meagan.
While the Photoshopping is a little haphazard, I credit her for getting her head angle correct and the over “ransom note” vibe this has.  She has artfully replaced some of the weapons on the military grade Apache helicopter she chose to use with glasses of strawberry lemonade which works because it’s my given name for Sean, but also symbolically, as my words are so dangerous they could be used on Blackhawks in wartime scenarios.  She also showed she knows this show is a shame by adding “5 min of fame” to Sean’s intro, cognizant that he is about to fade from our consciousness.  The helicopter reference as well scored points.  She passes the worthy test.
Next, please meet Laura who rocked two images.
I appreciate the rose colored out outfit, the delicately drawn digital rose, the Sean cake, but mostly I appreciate that she put USC Trojans on it specifically to win my favor.  This is important because she is a Kansas Jayhawk, someone who doesn’t care about football and probably hates California, but loves this blog.  It shows the “willing to be chained to a Viking range” spirit Sean was looking for and like Kevin James said to Maggie in Hitch… It just works.
What’s kind of rad here is the homemade element.  This doesn’t feel like photoshop at all. This feels like she sacrificed a picture, cut it out and scanned it.  
Both of these women would make excellent kidnappers as their ransom note collage skills are incredible.  I decided that if I am ever the world’s first already-married Bachelor, a collage challenge will be a part of it.  My wife just closed the browser.
Without the new rules, Meagan takes this thing down like a glass of cheap chardonnay at a rose ceremony.  That much is clear.  There is mad respect for her opening it up to new rules for the final episode.  That took courage and arrogance, things I respect as a Trojan.
But it also made an accord to adhere to the rules.
Laura made an improbable comeback and what’s more, she picked the final winner.  It would be hard to penalize someone for being right about the winner and taking advantage of new rules.  
Think about it, our favorite heroes were opportunistic.  That’s what this show is about.  If you can steal him/her away and make out, you are doing it right.  Laura got to freak out and make out with these new rules.
Really, there is one main kicker.  Laura picked the winner.  I played sports in my life and learned the hard way they don’t give championships to who won the regular season.  It’s about championships.
So much so that the tiebreaker in NCAA tournament brackets is predicting the final score of the championship.  In this case, Laura wins, but on the good graces of the frontrunning Meagan allowing additional rules to be added.
So, the final ruling is as follows:
In all league records, Laura shall be declared the supreme champion, but with an *.  In parentheses, Meagan will be commemorated as regular season co-winner.
Laura shall be award all winnings associated with the league, however, she has two options to make things right.  As SUPREME CHAMPION, she has the choice of paying Meagan back her entry fee (like coming in third in a poker tournament) or spending the equal amount buying her tapas and wine, because girls love those.
In addition to Laura upholding the graciousness of her status of SUPREME CHAMPION, Meagan will refer to her as the SUPREME CHAMPION until a winner of the Bachelorette League is crowned and the reign is over or extended.  
That said, it is the SUPREME CHAMPION’S job to protect the *regular season co-winner by verbally abusing anyone who makes fun of the prestigious distinction of *regular season co-winner.  However, the SUPREME CHAMPION may make fun of anyone, anytime so long as the *regular season co-winner is returned her entrance fee or showered in tapas and wine because women love those.
The bearfighter has spoken.  Cheers to a good offseason.



Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

Bachelor Recap: Finale

Harry Potter and shit.  It all ends.

ImageNever before has so much build up lead to an event more (read: less) captivating.  On a shoestring budget because Strawberry Blond found a way to be a virgin and uninteresting at the same time, this “journey” to find love felt more like a tourist bus carting visiting Germans around destinations no one from the United States would visit.  After a brief and luxurious pit stop in St. Croix, they were off to Thailand, the most inexpensive beach country they could find.  It made me wonder if Sean had a peanut allergy and they were trying to kill him with some errant pad thai.

His final decision was like a scene from Saw.  Marry the simple, Army Brat with the General dad and a horrid case of stress acne or marry a woman from Seattle with a shitty set of sisters and a dark past.  As she’s described, two people have died or almost died in front of her.  It’s like The Ring.  That and the fact that she seems as serious about getting married as I am about hang gliding.

I can’t remember a finale I gave a shit about less, but in fairness, I block every episode out of my mind.

Sean’s family arrived on the island.  His sister and brother in law made a conscious effort to buy a jumper, cut it in half and wear separate parts.  In fairness, it was lime colored so maybe, being from Dallas, they thought it was “margarita time” on the golf course.  I bet these two have had some shameful sex in that monster playhouse they keep in the back yard.

Seeing Sean’s parents, all I could think about was that it was these two combinations of hair and skin that created the most famous inverted ginger outside of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.  Sean’s dad was all about “being cool” and even the cynic in me liked this guy until they all talked about praying 200 times and I realized if they really were praying it would by for the electricity in Thailand to go out so their son wouldn’t have to marry on national television.  Hunger Games, bitch.


The mom tweaked out a little and was like “yeah, Sean, these girls wouldn’t be keepers if you met them ice skating at the Galleria Mall so they aren’t keepers in Thailand.”  Sean took her on a walk so we could see that his skin, deep V neck and shorts represented the colors of some invading alien species’ flag.  He was like, “don’t worry Mom, this will be over soon.”  His virginity, I hoped.  Oh wait, he isn’t a virgin.  Okay, his magical prayer virginity.  ::smacks forehead::

Catherine did better than Army Brat, who laughed so much I could swear a ghost was tickling her the entire time.  You never expect the ghost Muppets.

Pointless date one was with Army Brat and I swear I don’t even remember what they did other than some halfass making out so I’m skipping it because I am the overlord of this blog and you are all subjugated to my rule.

Date two was with Catherine and she got to ride an elephant.  I especially liked their elephant riding pants.  Look, I have a bone to pick with Chris Harrison, who was running veins first through the local poppy fields.  He said on his blog that helicopters were “so five years ago.”  He said the elephant was “the new helicopter.”

Fuck you, drug mule.  Elephants will be the new helicopter when you ride inside them and they sprout a propeller and fucking fly.  I know you are on an MDMA-inspired trip most of your life, but for the rest of us, it didn’t look like pink elephants in Dumbo.  It looked like two d-bags riding an elephant.


these aren’t dbags, just making a point. we’ve been there.

If you had Facebook and used it, you’d know that for five years now assholes have been going to Thailand because it’s cheaper than Hawaii and they take the obligatory “I’m on a fucking elephant” shot.  Every asshole I knew in college has ridden a Thai elephant and Instagram’d it.  Seriously, explore the “Thailand” hashtag on there.  Assholes on elephants.  Elephants are so five years ago.

To be accurate, elephants are so prehistoric ago and helicopters in a traditional sense were so 1900s ago.  Helicopters are better than elephants and may God have mercy on your soul.

To quote Moonrise Kingdom…  Harrison, I love you, but you don’t know what you are talking about.

Later on the date Catherine did her space stare where she makes a serious face and looks into the eye of death.  I blocked out all the crap they talked about, noticed the shitty body language from Sean and then suffered through that awkward saying goodnight part of the show.

Time out.  For the eighth time, Chris Harrison brought us back to the live studio audience filled with megacreeps to let us know he has LATE BREAKING NEWS about Sean that was unprecedented.  I perked up a little bit.  I mean, I know when every season is referred to as “the most dramatic season of the the Bachelor ever” that it’s what we call in the ad business “marketing hype”, but LATE BREAKING NEWS?  Get your popcorn ready.

Back in Thailand, Sean put on his most ill-fitting suit of the season.  I mean he looked like some local theater clown playing the lead in Death of a Salesman.  Too high brow?  Fine, he looked like a guy at a frat invite who bought his suit at Goodwill without trying it on.  How did they get this so wrong?  All year they make it about tight suits with skinny ties.  In the 4th quarter we just give up and go the opposite direction?  Yes, I’ll take a male mumu suit.  A sumu, if you will.  He will.

You never expect the sumu.

Army Brat came in a silver dress and being that Catherine had a gold dress, I knew Lindsay was coming in second.  I watch the olympics.  Somewhere, Little Orphan Hottie saw she was wearing bronze, said “FUCK” really loud and proceeded to pull out chunks of her hair and maybe a fingernail or two.


Army Brat had some weird dress technology going where she was able to make her boobs vanish.  Look, rule of thumb.  Want to make a man regret dumping you, have your boobs in line.  Where did they go?

She was a pro though at getting dumped, not sure if that’s good.  She just took off her shoes, total mic drop moment and peaced out.

Then, Sean gets a note that all season we’re meant to think means he gets jilted at the altar because he starts crying hard.  Nope.  Typical Bachelor bullshit.  It’s a fucking love letter from High School Soccer Player and Sean is crying because he is a boner and it only looks super severe because his skin changes like that chick from X-Men.

Thanks to a visit from Neil Lane and his surgically enhanced face, he puts a lot of generic looking ice on her finger, they seem happy and ride off into the sunset on another elephant which is still not the new helicopter fuck you very much.

On After The Final Rose, we suffer through watching the same show we just watched again and then watched Army Brat get her two cents in.  Merp.

Finally, Sean and Catherine are on stage and we get to hear THE LATE BREAKING NEWS.  It’s that ABC is going to pay for their wedding and air it.  No shit.  That’s what they always do the 2 times it’s ever worked out.  We get it Sean, you are cheap and her parents don’t like you.  Of course Harrison has to pay.

user submitted, looks JUST like sean.  seangerbread cookies.  epic win.

user submitted, looks JUST like sean. seangerbread cookies. epic win.

Thanks for the blue balls, again, Bachelor.

Time for me to get some much deserved rest from writing.  I’ll post a bit about weird neon parties in Portland and maybe some other television I catch.  I don’t know, I’m going to chill, head to Las Vegas for a few days and maybe enhance my empire.

I love you all dearly for sticking with me.  Every time you share this blog with one of your good looking friends, an angel gets their wings (I am that angel).  Every time you get a dude to start watching the show so he can read my posts, you are giving him an in with all girls and teaching him to hunt in the wild.  Marriage is a lot of things, not the least of which is embracing some awful TV.  A man who can laugh at crap with you is a man that likes spending time with you.

Have a happy and brief break until Desiree gets her new nickname (it’s not Sister of The Situation, but it could be).  I’ll be drinking in the mean time.  You do the same.

XOXO, Gossip Zack.

Real quick, shout out to Kim and my fellow W+Kers who watched last night!

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Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

The Women Tell All

Don’t get your hopes up.  Not to be a killjoy, but there’s not a ton to say after these episodes. I usually don’t post after any of them.  I do feel though, that we should at least take a quick glimpse at what went down.

First of all, whenever dealing with Women Tell All or After the Final Rose, you need to focus on the crowd they let in.  If the audience was a drink recipe, last night in particular it would be:

  • 10 housewives, undersexed and overdressed
  • 30 single professional women that hate women
  • 1 woman who at first glance looks like Michael Bolton
  • 10 Amish teenagers
  • 2-5 Way Too Old Ladies depending on taste (read: attendance)

*all must be willing to emote like everyone on this show is their best friend and that Tierra is a terrorist on trial and your reaction determines the fate of the United States.

Pretty Little Liar, you aren’t getting a talk show.  Stop taking the lines the producers are feeding you.  I get it.  You have Twitter on your iPhone.  You’re my hero.  You’re not the next Bachelorette (you better not be).  Like, did you have a goal to say sparkle, cot, etc the whole lot of Tierra words?  Look, I get it.  We all hate her, but I didn’t elect you head of that club.  Some quality eye rolls from you though.  And good job not getting fat in the offseason.  Big win for the agency.

AshLee tried to not bring the crazy the whole time (minus the new hair color, look from my understanding, the ombre is out and so auf wiedersehen, gypset) only to fail big time when Sean came out.  She tried to throw him under the bus by claiming he told her he didn’t care about the other two women in St. Croix.

Duh.  Let me be the first to say that Sean probably can’t drink, is some form of virgin, is an inverted ginger (which would be cool if he wasn’t so boring I wanted this season to be told by Ken Burns so at least it seemed important) and probably will torture his wife.  Sean wouldn’t survive one night out with my hard-banging advertising friends.  He’d tap out before the steaks arrived.

All that said, ladies, is Sean the only guy to say something to a girl he didn’t mean when he was making out?  No.  He isn’t.  Men should not be listened to in this situation.  If he tells you he loves you when you are both hungover arguing over what food to eat for lunch after you made him “go for a walk” that felt like a vampire crawl while you are wearing yoga pants (again), then he loves you.  Love is going on walks that provide no caloric benefit to men who eat and drink like Vikings just because it makes her happy.

God knows what I said to girls in high school when I thought there was a possibility of a mid-air refueling.  You have to grow up and fall in love for real to get over that stuff which, because this is The Bachelor, isn’t happening.  None of this is love.  That’s why they wrote that song.  Is this love?  Baby, don’t hurt me.  Don’t hurt me, no more.

There was going to UCLA to a sorority.  They did their stupid 8-clap which I actually appreciated in this case (it’s lame at sporting events) because there were 8 contestants on the show WITH THE CLAP ITSELF this season, so that was like a tribute.  One clap for each woman with THE clap.

Did you guys hate how they pretended the camera was on and no one knew so we could see “candid” talks between Sean and AshLee or Tierra getting ready.  Please.  Besides the Amish high schoolers and minivan moms you got for the crowd, we’re all watching because this is a shit show.  Stop trying to do parlor tricks.  The best magic trick would be if the marriage success rate for this show was higher than that of the US, which is already bad.

Tierra, you don’t speak English so I’m not commenting on you, your head dent or your sparkle (or that dress, I thought you were going to be cut up and put on a charcuterie board).

Shit, I just commented.

That’s all you get until next week when we end this thing with a bang.  Or without one.  Cuz you know.  Sean.





Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

Bachelor Recap: Week Eight

Before I take you all to the fantasy suites (fahn tab see sweets) with me, I need to talk directly to Chris Harrison and all the cast and crew members who read my BachCaps.  Never have I seen such east coast bias as the tweet captions they bring up on screen.  Look, I love seeing Lost Angeles friend Possessionista (who is amazing) quoted four times an episode, it’s nice to see Chris Bukowski is still alive with his super skinny head, but for us on the west coast, we’re cut out because I can’t very well tweet about a show that is not on yet, can I?

I think next week at like 5pm Pacific, I just start tweeting made up Women Tell All stories like “Wow, I can’t believe Anna Nicole Schlitz learned her Chris Harrison impression when Chris took her to a secret night club that was actually his brothel #bachelor.”

Let’s give that a shot.

Chris, you owe me by now.  I have built your lore at USC with my football influence, painting you as the world’s best dressed, most polished international drug dealer.  You are adored on campus and if I could have dinner with three people alive or dead, I’d clone you and eat dinner with you three times and then we’d all go to Vegas and play mind games with all women wearing perfectly tailored suits in a totally non-threatening way.  How we lived in the same town for years and never even went to notorious cougar bar Padri together, I’ll never know.  I cry sometimes.

With that said, let’s BachCap and let’s do it hard.  I feel no need for gloves.

Strawberry Lemonade takes us to the South of Thailand and what better place to find love than the south of Thailand.  Wearing exclusively hyper colored deep V cuts and tank tops paired with blueberry acai skin, Sean looked like the tint was all turned up on my television.  I almost called Sony to complain, but realized he is just purple and the sunsets were super orange.

Strawberry Lemonade did some awful acting when he was swimming at the hotel where he pensively swam to the edge of the infinity pool, checked out his purple bicep and stared into the distance like he was worried about being constipated for several days.  He told us he was tripping balls about being in love with three women, one of which was at home watching this episode like “fuuuuuuck this guy.”  We’re all with you.  I usually end up making friends with the main contestant and it’s nothing personal this year, I just don’t want to drink margaritas on the golf course with Sean while we chain our wives to a Viking Range in the kitchen.  I lived in Dallas for a while.  I’m good.

Date one was with Army Brat and there was no helicopter, so I was pretty pissed right off the bat.  But hey, let’s go to ANOTHER FUCKING ASIAN MARKET and say THIS IS TOTALLY WHAT LIFE WOULD BE LIKE WITH SEAN.  False.  Your life will be chained to the Viking Range with occasion procreation breaks.  You are a food processing plant and reproductive warehouse and occasional golf enthusiast.

So, Sean nearly breaks this little Thai car thing because he’s a giant purple hulk and they drive to a fucking Asian market and Sean pretends he’s been there before.  It made me miss when Lady Veneers would give history lessons.  Sean should know how much the producers hate him when Emily got to go around the world, Ben got to go around the world and he gets to go to the most inexpensive countries and states on earth.  Know your worth, son.


They buy some random crap and then Sean’s torture matrix kicks in and he decides that Army Brat is going to eat bugs.  You never expect the Muppets.

Then they go to this field where there’s religious Rose Bowl parade floats set up in a circle.  Nothing makes your religion seems more legit than blinking LED lights.  I just kept wondering where you put your quarters in and what the MegaJackpot was at.

Army Brat said it was like heaven, so her heaven looks like Disney Thailand Grad Night on a shit ton of E.  Marry her!

Then a bunch of dancers came out, it was probably racist, still not sure how or why, but I felt like they went back stage afterwards, started smoking cigarettes and being like “eff these gringos.”  I know they have a Thai word for gringos, but Google is for people who care.

The fantasy suite sucked because Sean is a born-again virgin and he wanted to use the time to talk.  America wants you to use the time to use Army Brat.  Why did you even sign up for this show?  No one’s fantasy is talking with a  purple man until dawn.  Maybe kids when Barney was still on the air.  Outside of then, no one.

Sean wanted her to say I LOVE YOU and he kind of intensely forced her too, looking annoyed when it took a minute, because, well, it’s going to hard to chain a woman with military training to a Viking Range without love as mustard gas.

I made myself a cocktail of windex and tonic and moved on to Little Orphan Hottie’s date.  I spent the first ten minutes trying to figure out what the hell her necklace said, realized it was Gypset, then wrote her off as a human.  She’s been getting crazier by the week and now is completely speaking in metaphor, which is kind of like that character in sci-fi movies who when they get close to an ancient mystery becomes possessed and just talks batshit crazy for the rest of the movie.  With fake boobs.

They are OMG going to swim through a cave to a private beach.  Naturally, AshLee’s trust issues are going to be fucking CHALLENGED.  I mean, swimming through a cave with a  camera crew on a boat and eight lifeguards?  How can you achieve that after being adopted?  ABC worked hard to make that 4 minute swim look like 20 minutes of pure aquatic Blair Witch.  Then they got to the beach, there was some sexy rain and AshLee let us know even more about her surgeon’s preferences.

That beach was cool, but it was also kind of like a giant, nature toilet bowl.  And I had an internal debate about sex on the beach.  I like the idea of it being private, but I’d rather a human watch me get down than a monkey.

The night date was more crazy from AshLee who is going downhill faster than a Swiss Olympian.  I hear what is coming out of her mouth, but what is the celestial cord downloading this speech into her brain?  I pictured a producer in her ear all night being like “he’s you soul mate, oh my god, he’s totally your soul mate, he got behind your walls” in Shoshana from Girls’ voice.  They are feeding the crazy beast crazy pills.  I kind of saw how this ends.

Again, some ass backwards speech about the fantasy suite.  Snore.  You are on the Bachelor, get naked already.  I didn’t come to the baseball game to see people play catch.  Someone needs to swing the bat already.

Last date, High School Soccer Player goes swimming, feeds a bunch of monkeys, says “hunky” about two hundred times, does a great impression of someone talking about a relationship and then tells Sean she’s got a serious side.  No shit, didn’t two people die in front of you?  You might be the grim reaper.

Also, she had the permanent wedgie bikini bottoms on.  Not a big deal, just saying.


Sean again forces her to say I love you and then there’s ANOTHER FUCKING SPEECH about being traditional.  This is so annoying.  I hate it.  I miss Sausage (Vienna from Jake’s season) who was just like, “you be a man, I’ll be a woman, it’s test drive island.”  You are on a dating show that has FANTASY SUITES.  Own up to the fact that you are on whore island and saying you aren’t doesn’t change that.  It’s like Orlando Bloom pretending he’s not a pirate for half the fucking Pirates of the Caribbean movies.  You have a sword and ride a pirate ship.  You’re a pirate.

At least the fantasy suite date included some swimming pool grinding, unfortunately I was still throwing up from when Sean kissed her on the boat earlier.  Well, kissing is the wrong term.  It looked like a bird regurgitating worms into a baby bird’s mouth.  It looked like she had an ice cream scoop in her mouth and he was trying to eat it.  It looked like her face was an envelope.  It looked like an anteaters sticking its tongue down the ant hole.  It looked like a dog got into a jar of peanut butter.

Jesus, I’d rather have seen some more instagrams of bottles from your juice cleanse than that.  By the way, let’s stop doing that now.  I get it at first.  But at this point, it’s gone too far.  I get drinking pictures because I like knowing someone is partying.  I’m down with selfles and duck faces.  I am down with workout shit (to a point) because it reminds us all to work out.  I am down with food pics because maybe I’ll discover a new place to be.

But shooting ten bottles of juice and then continuing to do it isn’t a humble brag it is a cry for help.  Even moms who shoot pictures of their babies on repeat don’t shoot pictures every time they drink a bottle of juice.

Where was I?  Oh yeah.  Here comes the boom with Kevin James.

Rose Ceremony time.  Harrison is showing some chest hair like a pimp in his beachside opium den when Sean comes in and knows who needs to go.  We started getting the feeling that he was gonna drop Little Orphan Hottie because she is starting to get crazy, confirmed by her video to Sean where she kept crying for no reason.

He probably was gonna send home Catherine because she doesn’t want to be chained to a Viking Range, but he figures she’d be easier to jilt at the alter than the brewing cyclone of female death and silicone, so I kind of knew it was coming.  That said, Catherine said Sean gives her the wiggles, which made me hate her and also picture a dog dragging its ass along the carpet.  That’s the wiggles.  Don’t fucking say it.

Wait, now I am wondering if I got the monkey scenes accurate.  I feel like there were monkeys on loop.  Wait, I don’t care.

Sean dumps AshLee and she gives him a stare down that lowered my sperm count.  It was fully the sterilizer ray of doom.  I was terrified.  She didn’t blink.  Of all the days to leave half of your dress (the boob covering part) at home.

Sean looked scared to death and begged to explain himself, which to me was kind of like whistling at a rabid wolf that for some reason was willing to not eat you.  She just got in the car, didn’t want the cameras to see her cry which was weird since that’s all she did for five weeks.


She reminded us this wasn’t a game for her.  I wanted to remind her, no, eHarmony isn’t a game.  It’s a website.  You’re in a Toyota LandCruiser, which is a car.  And the Bachelor, the show you were on, was a game.  So…


Somewhere right now, a closet is being organized and reorganized over and over until the organizer’s hands are so raw that blood faintly stains each garment.  She keeps moving faster and faster, faster and faster until…


You never expect the Muppets.





Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

Bachelor Recap: Week Seven

Real quick, check this out.  Despite not playing soccer since there were orange slices and juice boxes involved, I signed up to bring my broad-shouldered aggressive to my company’s coed soccer club.  I asked if someone could give me a few training sessions so I could go from a baseball player to a footballer and simply attached this picture:



I mean, who wouldn’t sign up?

So this week is normally a favorite.  Motherfuckin’ home towns.  It’s that special time of the year where you finally can confirm or deny that awful sinking suspicion that it is, in fact, your family that is preventing you from getting a ring put on it.  That’s a real thing, ladies (and gents).  While you technically are marrying one (1) human, you are also committing yourself to a life of dealing with another family’s set of shit that may make no sense compared to your own.

In many cases, this is a good thing.  For some, it is the opposite.  I’m not talking about parental no fly zones (and by fly I mean sex) in your in-laws houses stuff.  That’s normal.  I am talking about scenes from Deliverance type stuff.  I don’t even know anyone with these problems, but I do watch the Bachelor, so I know they exist.

A good family can put you over the hump.  A bad family can make you never want to hump again.

Let’s BachCap.

Hometown One was with Little Orphan Hottie, who is going to hell in a hand basket so fast.  I know it’s normal for her to constantly look for celestial or spiritual meaning in everything that is going down when you come from a world where you were passed around to five fucking orphanages in one year, but this is the Bachelor, not Oprah.  We’re not here to fix you.  We’re trying to figure out who will gladly be locked to a Wolf Range cooking for Sean as he plays golf, drinks light beer, gets sunburns and reminds you that a woman’s place is in the kitchen…  Or on his junk.

Luckily for Strawberry Lemonade, Little Orphan Hottie seems like she gets all of that AND wants to organize his closet.  That wasn’t sexual, she literally wants to organize his closet.  Unfortunately for Strawberry Lemonade, she may have been activated by aliens posing as God telling her that everything is happening for a reason.  Our fears of a Stage Five Clinger are being realized.

The date was short.  We met her adopted parents who were by all accounts really nice people, even if her mother had some weird dragonfly obsession that probably gets weird when it’s time to decorate the house for any holiday.  Her folks were overweight, her mom had Donald Trump hair, her father looked like Mr. Belding and Dick Butkus had a child that had a mid-life crisis and started spiking his hair…

BUT NONE OF THAT MATTERS.  Not her biological parents, who had to be nails hot and a little crazy.  All you need to know about her folks is that they are fucking nice and didn’t judge their daughter for having huge boobs installed.  They actually love her too.

They pass the test.  Unfortunately, AshLee didn’t.  Holy batshit crazy.  She starts fawning like a child about their dates and going so TMI on her folks that I felt bad for them.  And there was that feeling that she thought the universe aligned to give her this chance.  I always wonder how people could think THIS is how the cosmos intended you to find a man.  You are supposed to do it like the rest of us, which is to say, drunk in bars or scanning who looks reasonably employed and groomed on a dating website and just try on lots of hats.

Or you could have just been in a band like I was.  That works best.  Play instruments and be on the radio.  It makes it easier.

AshLee’s reactions could have spelled doom.  Luckily, this was barely on the Richter Scale of Shitquakes.

Cue Date Two, High School Soccer Player, or now that I know she is hardcore Pinoy power (love my Filipino homies in LA), I want to call her Jollibee.  It’s a Filipino fast food place I ate drunk one time.  At a drive-thru at USC once (in no condition) my bassist and I could not figure life the fuck out after ordering an “Extreme Sausage Sandwich”.  Can you imagine post Dodger game what it was like to order a “Juicy Yumburger” and “Crispy Chickenjoy?”  No you can’t.  But I can.  And that’s why you are reading this.



Glad I was not on hallucinogens.  So how did I feel about eating this stuff.  I don’t remember, but probably like this:



Big win for the agency.

Anyway.  Up to Seattle in the PAC NORTHBEST, PLAYER.  They clearly filmed in the summer because it doesn’t look like that normally.

ABC really pulled out the stops and took us to Pike Place Market to watch Sean catch flying fish (which they don’t even sell because throwing them fucks it all up, which is so not sustainable, which I personally don’t care about, but everyone up here fronts they do, so I call bullshit).


But really, ABC?  I’ve seen every fucking person ever catch fish at this market.  I mean, take them to the fucking Space Needle.  Go to the salmon ladder.  There are a thousand things less touristy than the Pike Place Market that one could do in Seattle that are still touristy as fuck.  I just can’t deal with it.


In other news, Sean…  Do not ever let Catherine touch your junk.  She caught a 10 pound flying salmon with one hand via death grip.  Hide your junk.  Cherish it.  According to People Magazine, you are a “born again Virgin” which doesn’t exist.  Still, keep it that way or there will be no little Lemonades running around any time soon.

That night, they went to Catherine’s house and saw it was filled with odd curtains and rugs partitioning every room.  Her sisters Tegan and Sara weren’t having it.  Her mom clearly watches the Bachelor and realizes the show is batting .125 in “marriage creation” and was like “bitch, if it works out it works out.”


Sean was like, aren’t you supposed to dote on me.  No, we aren’t because you barely left the country this season, got away from helicopters and wear a skinny tie when you shouldn’t.  I’m ready for you to find love so I can find my Monday nights again.  You’re supposed to enjoy drinking, not do it to get to Tuesday.

Date Three was with Army Brat and when your date on a military base in some fucking pop-up town called Fort Leonard Wood is your best date, the system failed you.  These two have fun together, it’s kind of sweet in a “I hope they don’t invite us to dinner” sort of way.  She is down to be a wife and in the meantime, she’s down to do whatever Sean wants and will move to Dallas because she is without a true hometown.


I liked that during her Army drill skit with Sean, she mentioned him “kissing other girls.”  It was refreshing to see someone knowing that was going on.  She has a quiet confidence and my wife’s been saying it.  She was such a dark horse.  She could and probably should win this, if she can survive her “undergrounders” as my wife describes them.  By them, I mean her stress acne that she’s working hard to battle.

Not picking on her, she seems like a fun person to hang with if she doesn’t talk like that all the time.  Which she probably does.  Redact that sentence like you’re the CIA.  Zero Dark Girly.

Her mom was nice.  Her brother looked like he was already in the Army and despite seeming a little creepy, I think would blindly love Sean, as evidenced by their man hug.  She may have had a sister, don’t remember.  Her dad brought him into a room with military battle paintings, had a beer that was darker than Sean typically drinks with a lime on the golf course (pansy) and somehow it went pretty well.  He seems like a good dad.  She seems like the right choice.

Date Four was with Des.  It started off with some awkward hike at Runyon or somewhere else people that suck go to hike and take instagrams.  I get that there are hot girls there, many adult film starts, but watching porn on your computer would save the gas, parking and traffic and yield a better workout.  My wife just closed the browser…


Des tried to punk-back Sean with some intern pretending to be an actor showing up and being like I LOVE YOU DES.  This was whacktastic and I was just glad it ended.

At dinner, the mom and dad seemed fine, but her brother was some mix between amateur MMA wannabe, Jersey Shore extra and the city of Santee, California.

He was hellbent on telling Sean he was a playboy.  None of this was interesting, moreso it was just mortifying because as much as this guy is probably the reason her parents wished they stopped at one, he was totally right.  His sister IS better off not getting married on a reality television show.

Luckily, he’s getting a spin-off on Bravo called Growing Up Dumb.

Sean was OUT after this.

Chris Harrison showed up and I missed him.  Catherine’s indie pop sister act and Des’ brother saved AshLee and her mission from the love god.  That said, Harrison had a rare suit/tie mixup.  Brown tie with that jacket?  Not sure.  Maybe he let a new GF dress him or something.  Didn’t matter, Sean had an awful skinny tie on, AGAIN, and basically made it okay for everyone else to dress like shit, except for Little Orphan Hottie who found a dress that could make a woman with 0% body fat and fake breasts look misshaped.  Congrats wardrobe team.

Des pulled a final plea during the Rose Ceremony which ended up causing Strawberry to have a born-again rose ceremony, leaving the room and interrupting Chris Harrison’s opium hookah party so he could look at the pictures of Des and Catherine one more time, because looking at them in person was too confusing.

Des gets cut.  I’m FUCKING OUT.

Not going to blog Sean tells all.  It’s erroneous.  Maybe I will.  No promises.  I keep it real.  SEE YOU FOR THE FAHN-TAH-SEE SUITES… Which will suck because Sean won’t have any sex.  Womp womp.  At least they may leave the country for once.





Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette