The Bachelor, Week 5: I Can’t Even

If you’re coming here for your Bachelor recaps, you’re in the wrong place.

I know.


No, it’s me. Really. And I’m fine, promise. I want to watch The Bachelor and recap it in all its sad, desperate, tropey, predictable glory, but come on! I need a little help here! Could this season be more boring? Could Arie be more hateable, arrogant, boring, and whiny? Are any of us surprised? Sigh…not really.

Anyway, this whole season has been boring. I don’t even get around to watching the episodes until days after they air. I now fully believe that Krystal is a paid actor. ABC must have known they were in for a dud of a season so they hired someone with the worst voice ever to create unrealistic drama, steal the villain crown right off of Chelsea’s head, and grate on the nerves of EVERYONE IN THE WORLD TO INFINITY.

Just…please…have you considered community theater?

Krystal, I appreciate the effort, I really do, but even I’m not buying it and I am willing to suspend my disbelief for even the New Jersey Housewives.

I watched half of last night’s episode and was seriously not compelled to write a damn thing except, “Wow, I should try bowling sometime” and “Bekkah does a pretty good imitation of Krystal.” Even Krystal’s big, dumb tantrum didn’t move me.

So I leave you with this image because it really sums up how dumb this season is. Also, watching it with captions on is opening a whole new portal into hell. Especially when the captions say things, IN A HIGH PITCHED VOICE or IN A NORMAL VOICE. 

This here is Tia. She’s besties with Raven, the runner-up from Nick’s season. You might remember Raven as the gothy southern girl who almost took  her boyfriend out with her stiletto. So, yeah, they breed ’em real special in Arkansas. Weiner, Arkansas to be exact.

Anyway, this here is moments after she she professed her almost love for Arie. So romantic, right?

“I’ve been waiting for you to push me off something. Anything. Like this balcony would do. Please. A broken pelvis would be more fun than you, Arie.”

I mean, I just can’t.

But I will.



The Bachelor: I Can’t Even Come Up with a Title for This Drivel

When I was about 6, I followed my brother into a House of Mirrors at an amusement park. He ditched me about 1.3 seconds later citing some bullshit like, “Oh, I didn’t see you behind me.” Really, dear brother?  You couldn’t see me in a HOUSE OF MIRRORS?

I have a terrible sense of direction. If I tell you, “Oh that really good pizza place we liked is right over there!” it’s not. It’s probably not in the same town. Also, if you try giving me directions and say something stupid like “It’s just north of the freeway” I’m going to punch you in the neck. North is  up, jackass. Give me some good old-fashioned rights and lefts, okay?

So imagine young Shelly (who often gets lost on an airplane trying to find her seat after a visit to the lavatory) alone in a carnival torture house designed to confuse young children and separate them from their families. Now imagine having to see your horrified little face reflected back 1000x into infinity.

I had an awkward phase, okay?

But I’m no dummy. Continued movement would have been futile. It didn’t have 2,945 back issues of Tiger Beat or a Mickey Mouse telephone, but that house of mirrors was my new home. So I plopped down right there and accepted my fate. God, I missed Pepsi and elephant ears.

Four days minutes later, the teenaged ticket-taker told me to get up and walked me seven feet to the exit.

Admittedly, I probably don’t look in a mirror as often as I should, which results in showing up to places with toothpaste dribbled down the front of my shirt or mascara only on one eye. Shit happens. But I’m pretty sure that’s because I’m too lazy to look straight ahead and not permanently scarred from a childhood carnival experience.

Poor Annaliese (“Which one is that?” you ask. “THE BLONDE ONE!” I tell you.) clearly doesn’t have the fortitude to move on from hers.*

Arie, as you know, is our Bachelor (yawn) who happens to be a race car driver (yeah, yeah, Arie, we are soooooooooooooo impressed) and isn’t this guy:


He enjoys showing off his race car driver moves any chance he gets. (Yawn again.) Have you ever wondered how the show comes up with all those clever group dates? Of course you have. Here’s what happens: The producers look over the questionnaires filled out by contestants and look for responses to the WHAT ARE YOU MOST TRAUMATIZED BY? (FEEL FREE TO USE AN ADDITIONAL SHEET OF PAPER) question.

Woe is Annaliese, because this group date had the girls participating in a demolition derby which unearthed her very painful past. You see, when Annaliese was a child some asshat (probably a loving adult!) took her to a carnival (PROBABLY TO HAVE FUN!) and let her ride the bumper cars. GET THIS– OTHER CARS HIT HER CAR! What the what? Who does that??? Watching all those derby cars get all creamed and stuff was just too much for Annaliese to bear. So she had to stand on the sidelines, shaking and sobbing and accepting fake, mannequin-armed hugs from the other girls while her sweaty tears plowed through all that expensive BB cream. And if THAT scene weren’t dramatic enough, the producers reached deep into their bag of “cheap ploys to make it clear we are totally giving up this season” satchel to give us a very special reenactment.

“We’ve got nothing left this season, kids! Unless someone is afraid of bees or thunder? Can I get some gluten intolerance up in here? CAN SOMEONE PLEASE RECREATE A BAD ALLERGIC REACTION?

You guys, that is not just a reenactment, but it came with creepy carnival music!

You guys, that is not just a reenactment, THAT IS A SEPIA-TONED REENACTMENT.

It’s like our blurry, pixelated faces were there too!

I AM FEELING HER PAIN! It is DEEP IN MY GUT! Oh no wait, that is just laughter.

Arie tried to be empathetic, telling her she could sit this one out if she really needed to, but if she did decide to participate he’d totally protect her. Maybe later he’d even rub his dumb pillow lips all over her sad, wet face.

“So wait, you’re afraid of bumper cars. Did I ever tell you I’m a race car driver? Like a real one? Cuz I am! Also my lips are like two, big airbags. You’re totally safe with me…uh…Lauren?”

And now I’m traumatized because I can’t tell if The Bachelor was seriously trying to get us past the dyed roots and into this woman’s head or if they’re all saying, “F.U. Arie! Your season blows! Let’s just trash the place and burn it down!”

Please God let it be the latter! (EDITOR’S NOTE: It’s totally the latter. I’ve seen the latest episode.)

But, wait.

Are they making fun of themselves? 

You’re better than this, Bachelor! And by “better” I mean, worse! So much worse! Don’t let me down!

Even the other girls thought this whole trauma thing was ridiculous. I mean being afraid of swimming pigs, sobriety, or yeast infections is totes normal but bumper cars? Come on, girl!  Jenna thought she could knock some sense into Annaliese by repeatedly ramming into her when Ol’ Pillow Lips wasn’t looking, which kind of worked. Annaliese seemed rather aggressive for someone who couldn’t handle a little light jostling in a heavily padded carnival toy car, but whatevs. I’m no shrink.

What else happened? Let’s see:

Krystal–my god– is cray cray and super annoying. For someone who claims to make a living  making others, “feel their best feels”, she sure likes making other woman feel angry. It’s pretty much guaranteed that whatever words spoken in her drunk, husky baby voice are going to suck. Even though she already had a rose, she stole Arie away TWICE during the cocktail party. One of those times was right out of Bibiana’s vice grip, seconds before she would have choked Arie out. Dammit, Krystal!

No, bitch, you need to check yourself before I rip those wicked biceps right off your stupidly toned body!

Bibiana cracked, threatened to leave, gave up, sat back down, yelled at Krystal, got up to leave, didn’t talk to Arie, finally talked to Arie, took a Valium, drank a bunch of vodka, bit the head off a bat, drank more vodka, and calmly accepted rose #18 out of 18 from Arie.

Angry Anonymous Blonde #4, #12, and #16 were sent home. Angry Anonymous Blonde #4 didn’t even bother saying goodbye to Arie, which made Arie sad. No one gets out of here without a stiff hug and an extra heaping of televised humiliation.

“Hey, sorry about dumping you. I honestly can’t tell all these blonde girls named Lauren apart and it’s hurting my head.”

“I’m not sad about you dumping me. I’m sad that I have to leave all this free alcohol behind.”

I hear that, Angry Anonymous Blonde #4. Surely the girls are pouring one out in your name.

*You can’t make this shit up. It can and will get worse, I promise.


All Good Things

…must come to an end.


I’m going to miss writing these Bachelor recaps.

But, but, I love them both! Can't I have two rings, Mr. Lane?
But, but, I love them both! Can’t I have two rings, Mr. Lane?

You’ve got to check out the final installment of Mother Rose Best, Fools of Engagement, if for no other reason than to see the awesome Chris Harrison GIF the editors unearthed. It’s pretty fabulous.

Many thanks to the ladies of In the Powder Room for allowing me to crash the stalls once a week. What pure joy they are to work with.

Cheers to another match made in Reality TV heaven, where the booze flows and annulments are doled out like shots of penicillin. I’m sure it took me longer to write this post than for Bachelor Ben to realize he should have picked Bachelorette #2. Oh well. There’s always next season.

How many seasons is too many season? Asking for a friend.
How many seasons is too many season? Asking for a friend.


Mother Rose Best, Week 9

Remember this girl?

Sit and spin, bitches!
Sit and spin, bitches!

Spoiler alert! She’s still in the running to be America’s Next– oops! Wrong show. But yeah, she’s still in the running to be Bachelor Ben Higgins’ ex-fiance. Which is great because she’s helping today’s children become better citizens of tomorrow. How, you ask? Clearly you have not been reading Mother Rose Best. You best giddy-on-up over to In the Powder Room and check out the latest, Jamaican of a Marriage, right now. Why? Because I’m the mother, that’s why! And clean your room while you’re at it.


New Mother Rose Best

Burning questions, people!

  • Did Ben the Bachelor moved beyond tight-lip, closed-mouth kissing?
  • Did the token virgin give it up in Ben’s childhood bedroom?
  • Did a future NFL cheerleader’s understudy’s intern make Ben’s mother cry?

And more importantly, why is this blonde woman choking out another blonde woman?

He's my fake husband, Blondie! MINE!
He’s my fake husband, Blondie! MINE!

Find out the answers to these questions and more in the latest Mother Rose Best!

¿Dónde Está My Weave?

Have I told you lately how much I love writing this Mother Rose Best column for In the Powder Room? Even more so, I love having a “reason” to watch The Bachelor. It’s not because I want to and would totally be watching it anyway. It’s because I have to. I’m writing a column about it. Ahem…

The latest installment  ¿Dónde Está My Weave?, is just itching like a bad rash for you read and share.

Enjoy! And umm, maybe get some ointment for that itch?

Mother Rose Best In the Powder Room!

Find love the old-fashioned way!
Looking for love the old-fashioned way!

I’m super excited about the opportunity to write about this season of The Bachelor in a new series, Mother Rose Best for the lovelies over at In the Powder Room. But I’m not just recapping the chardonnay shenanigans. Oh no. I’ll be dispensing practical parenting advice inparted from one of the world’s greatest guilty pleasures. Yes, you can learn a lot from a baby-voiced, ex-dancer with a spray tan and Cache credit card.

Read the first installment of Mother Rose Best: Hung Like a Mini Horse.

Didn’t watch last night’s episode? Don’t worry.  Here’s what you missed:

Unicorns really do exist and so do people who believe in finding true love on national TV. Meet Ben Higgins, fan favorite cast-off from last season’s The Bachelorette. He’s a small town boy with a big moral compass who is by far the least scuzzy Bachelor in recent history. He’s not a caricature of a South American fuuuutball star or a pilot who reeked of Valtrex and penicillin. And not having roots in a rural Iowa farm town that go deeper than a string bikini through a saddlebag helps too. “I want to live somewhere with less people than tubes of lipstick in my purse!” said no Bachelor contestant ever. You think these women could exist more than 75 miles from the nearest Juicy Couture outlet? You’re as crazy as the chick last season who compared herself to an onion.

Ben takes us on a tour of his hometown and we see where he had his first kiss. We meet his parents who seem nice if not a bit horrified. They’ve been together 32 years and Ben claims to want what they have. I also want what they have—a house on the water. Lovely!

When her son brings up the insecurities he vomited all over America last season, his mom cries and dad commiserates. She wants her son to be happy and claims, “no matter where you find her, she’ll be great.”  She already hates these women.

Then Ben gets facetime with three previous Bachelors. They tell him it’s going to be hard. He needs to be honest. Chris Soules wants him to kiss as many women possible. Ben is grossed out by this.

Chris Harrison and Ben bring it in for an awkward man-hug as the first limofull of girls pulls up the drive.

We meet:

Lauren, a gorgeous flight attendant who brings him a pair of wings and thankfully steers clear of the “mile high club” low-hanging fruit joke.

Caila who spells her name in the most complicated way possible and believes after seeing Ben come out of the limo last season, he’s a perfect person. Umm, OK. I can actually see these two yahoos together.

Jennifer, a small business owner who forgot to mention her name.

Jami, a cute bartender from Canada who happens to know previous Bachelorette Kaitlin. She tells Ben she heard he has a really big…heart. GONG!

Jubilee, a super hot, badass war veteran. As lovely as she appears, she’s African American and we all know you don’t get attached to the token minority. Bummer.

Mandi: Good job perpetrating the Portland is Weird stereotype, Weirdo. Is every dentist on reality TV a psycho? Says she would not date a man with gingervitis which is actually not the worst advice, but wearing an enormous Pinterest-fail rose craft on your head is. (Ladies, if you can’t pick out the token “kooky” girl in your season, it’s you.)

Emily and Haley: Oh lord, we have blond twins. “Group hug?” Ben asks, clearly terrified. 

Lace the Aggressor. Immediately went in for some tongue action because she wanted the first kiss. How come I know Ben isn’t into kissing chicks on the first night and she doesn’t? Get a life and a clue how to use Google.

Jessica from Florida. Clearly she didn’t make an impression on me or Ben because that’s all I know about her.

Lauren R. a math teacher who professed to stalking Ben via social media for two months. (Take a hint, Lace.) Wow, Lauren. Are you sure you’re not a P.I.? You’ve got some serious sleuthing skills stalking a man who was recently named the star of a popular reality TV franchise. He kept asking what her name was. She didn’t tell him.

Shushana, who looks like a belly dancer and appeared to be speaking in tongues.

Leah, girl-next-door event planner. She hikes up the tulle on her dress and lobs a football at Ben.

Lauren H. was the lucky recipient of the bouquet toss at a wedding recently so naturally she took that as a sign. She gives the shriveled bouquet to Ben who can’t believe it still smells good.

Breanne, a nutritional therapist who hates gluten so much she repeatedly smashed a baguette on the sidewalk in front of Ben. MUST…DESTROY…ALL…GLUTEN!

Isabel, who goes by Izzy, eschewed the idea of wearing a gown in favor of PJ’s. “I need to find out if you’re the onsie for me,” she says as America collectively groans.

Rachel who is unemployed ditched the limo in favor of a hoverboard. Is this the same vehicle that spontaneously bursts into flames and Amazon demanded we destroy like it’s a big, glutenly baguette? That’s good TV!

Maegan is a cowgirl who doesn’t go anywhere without her mini horse. Ben and Maegan have as much chemistry as a host and restaurant patron waiting to be seated but the horse is damn cute.

Laura, who likes to go by “Red Velvet,” is already intimidated. See ya at the reunion, Red Velvet!

Joelle, exits the limo wearing a giant unicorn head. Because why not?

Amanda tell us in her little girl voice (uh oh, Dr. Drew!) about the two daughters she left behind in her quest to find a man who will one day give them daddy issues. Go on and leave your kids, Amanda. Toddlers don’t do anything cool anyway.

Tiara who is billed as a”chicken enthusiast” shows pictures of her beloved birds–and Ben–in frames. My husband calls her the  “female Gonzo.”

LB who does something in fashion. Blah blah blah. She’s too thin to care about.

Jackie arrives with a Save the Date card. Whoa. Hold your mini horses, girl.

Olivia, a newscaster from Florida says “hi” like seven times in three seconds. Ben loves her already.

Samantha, a recent law school graduate finds out during the limo ride that she passed the bar exam. Her dad passed away from ALS when she was a teen, but she takes comfort in knowing he’s smiling down on her as she prepares to don a bikini and get HPV from the shared toilet seats in the house.

Excited about the cast of potential wives, Ben calls to wake up his parents letting them know it’s real likely one of these twenty-six beauties or a mini horse will be joining them next Thanksgiving. Mom roots for the horse.

After some back-biting, bitch-calling, delusion of grandeur, aborted make-out attempts, and public shaming (all by the same horrible woman: Lace), Ben succumbs to a spontaneous dental exam (could probably floss better) a twin sandwich (“It’s not awkward for us so it shouldn’t be for you”), good old fashioned bonding over the sensual world of software sales, and two surprise contestants from previous seasons (what’s-her-face and Becca the Virgin!) He then has to explain to Lace why he won’t be sleeping with her tonight. Do we really need to do this? You’re one of twenty-eight girls, Lace. Not even close to the hottest. You just met the guy. She takes this to mean she’s definitely getting a rose tonight and she totally did because the producers must love her.

Soon Ben makes the tough choice to send eight girls who have been drinking on an empty stomach a’ packing. Breanne, the gluten hater is one of the casualties and is devastated because she’s “gone through so much already.” Yes, Breanne, it’s hard to give up wheat, but there are so many good alternatives out there these days. You’ll be okay.

A few final thoughts: 

Becca, you might be a virgin but that dress you wore isn’t.

Can we keep the horse? Please!? I promise to take care of it!

L.B., in lieu of a rose, will you please accept a sandwich?

Tune into The Bachelor Mondays at 8PM on ABC and In the Powder Room: Mother Rose Best the following Tuesday!