Tag Archives: juan pablo galavis

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.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette