The Bachelor, Season 23, Ep. 1-3: Air Horny


We’ve all seen the previews for this season of The Bachelor. We all have the same questions:

Why’d they pick Colton Underwhelming?

Is he still a virgin?

Why does he take a flying leap over that fence???

Also, why is Shelly so far behind in her recaps?

Well, good questions. All of them. I got behind. Like more behind than the lawnchairs at Bachelor Mansion. I think it’s like week 4 or something? And well…yawn…I’m bored. But okay, let’s talk about things.

Here’s what you’ve been missing:

Remember when I thought Ari’s season was so boring? Well, it was, but this season might make all of last season look like the spawn of Breaking Bad and that episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey when Teresa flipped the table. Colton is just plain awkward. Like about-to-lose-your-virginity-in-a-fantasy-suite-on-TV-awkward. He can’t make conversation to save his life. He’s more terrified of being alone with women than Mike Pence. He lacks charisma, passion, and decent facial hair. There are not enough gratuitous soapy shower scenes to get me on board. I’m just not that into him.

Nope.

But thirty other women apparently are. Or apparently willing to act like they are for a shot at getting sidebared in Us Weekly. Who are this season’s dirt-thirsty ladies vying for Colton’s V-card? Well, you’ve got your bunch o’ blondes with blunt-end bobs and barrel curls, a few unstable, insecure brunettes with giant mouths and bony chests, and a bevy of beautiful minority women who will drop like diaphragms in the fantasy suite once we hit week 3.

I can’t remember them all, but here are the tropes you need to know:

Demi: 24, bimbo next door, sexually aggressive, PV understudy, clearly wants to be the villain, enjoys antagonizing the cougars (girls over the age of 27)

Hannah G: Yes, of course there are 2 Hannahs! This one got of the important roses. First impression? I think? Clearly not the memorable Hannah.

Colton thinks she reminds him of home.
 You say “home,” I say, “Electronic robotic toy.”

Hannah B.: Miss Alabama, y’all! Hates Caelynn.

Caelynne: Miss North Carolina, y’all! Hates Hannah B.

Onyeka: The outspoken African American woman whom the producers will play up to be angry and competitive.

Heather: Never been kissed. Clearly a one-upper.

Elyse: Seems sad to be on The Bachelor. Like a 6th grader who’s family moved from a small town in Olklahoma to a Chicago suburb. She’ll make friends eventually. Cougar.

Tracy: Unhinged and hungry. Looks like she lost 7 pounds between commercials. Would like to murder Demi. Cougar.

No, girl. We do not do hats on The Bachelor. Also, no girl, you are not a wardrobe stylist.

Nicole: Sassy Latina, has twin autistic brother whom SHE WILL NEVER LEAVE. Unless it’s to find her secondary beneficiary on reality TV. I’m not sure we have a single mom this season so she might be filling that void.

So they all get out of the limo and squeal about how handsome Colton is and how they can’t believe their only impression was seeing his bad facial hair through a tinted limo window, yet they can already see a future with him.

The first group date of the episode is at a theater where they get a quick lesson in storytelling from Nick Offerman and Megan Mullally whose advice included, “I don’t think you can say hot as f*ck” and “Oh, yeah, you can totally swear on The Bachelor.”

The girls ran off with their mole skin notebooks to jot down notes about their memorable “firsts.”

Elyse talked about how she used to date older dudes… until now. Demi was super impressed with her brutal honestly. “There’s no advantage to being old.”

Whew! Are these lights hot up here or is it perimenopause?

Elyse is 31.

Onyeka’s story was about having to save Colton from “drowning in a bunch of thirsty bitches.” Uh, Onyeka, you gotta know your audience. Those thirsty bitches were right there! And they were not impressed.

Tracy told a tale about how her and her buddy tried to deflower the same guy. Blah blah blah, she woke up to the other girl punching her in the face. The end.

Demi’s story was about how she usually sleeps with guys on the first date and was sort of pissed Colton didn’t consider her getting out of a limo their first date. She stormed off the stage and planted a big, old kiss on his mouth. That’ll learn him. Naturally the other girls were HORRIFIED! They wanted their first kiss to be consensual! Who the hell would just go off and kiss a dude square on the lips! ON TV! You think guys want hot, (albeit in a torch-your-car-after-carving-your-initials-into-his-bare-shoulder-blade-with a-butter-knife sort of way) 24 year-old chicks to just throw themselves at their feet? Not cool, Demi!

After the show, the group convened at a rooftop bar (surprise!), where Colton was assaulted once more by Demi who forced him to compliment her earlier bold move. Terrified, he admitted he, “liked her confidence.”

“Oh, I’m all about confidence,” she said.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“I’m a total woman’s supporter.”

I will strangle the cougars with my bare, giant, man hands then rub their carcasses all over my boosom!

Oh, yep, Demi. Totally. You’re like a big, old underwire bra.

When she rejoined the bored, sad cougar girls, she grabbed the date rose, rubbed it over her body like it was a bar of Camay soap, and claimed that bitch was hers. Ew, Demi, you can have it! No one wants a rose with your herpes on it!

People, let’s chat about protocol for a minute here. You don’t touch the date rose. LIKE EVER. That rose is not yours to hand out. It’s THE BACHELOR’S. That rose is sacred. It is to be looked upon with wanton lust like it literally holds the key for the rest of your happy days because it LITERALLY DOES. But you must never touch it! Remember black Jesus in Madonna’s Like a Prayer video? YOU DON’T TOUCH BLACK JESUS, MADONNA! Black Jesus is the rose!

This brazen act made Tracy short of breath. Like literally sick to her stomach.

You are not a good Cuban girl from Miami if you don’t tell someone off in the first episode. Nicole is a good Cuban girl from Miami.

Nicole: ¿Que demonios, dummy?

Demi: Yah. Totally sorry.

Nicole: That rose is not a blacklight, bitch. Why you got to be rubbing it all over yourself?

Demi wasn’t 100% sure, but she thought Nicole was angry because “she had a frowny face on.” Or maybe that was just her face. It’s hard to tell with older women because they’re just so darn wrinkly!

Bored of getting yelled at by old ladies, Demi took to spying on Furby and Colton as they made out. Demi fed off other girls kissing Colton. Demi was hungry.

Are they speaking furbish?

Elyse’s story about dating older dudes impressed Colton so much, he bequeathed her with the Demi-tainted date rose. Hmm, is there an advantage to being an older woman here?

Meanwhile we learn about Caelynn and Hannah’s storied backstory. They were roommates at Miss America. Friends turned enemies. Caelynn is fake. Hannah B. is insecure. They are both toxic, manipulative, and jealous. Hannah B. will crumble. Caelynn’s true colors will kill the very soul of Colton in this life and every past one. He will want to jump over a fence before handing either girl a rose. Eventually. Right now he still thinks their both smoking hot.

Hannah B. got the first one on one much to Caelynn’s dismay. But it was her birthday!

To celebrate (he had no clue), Colton took Hannah to the desert for some ebullient conversation:

Colton: Look at these views.

Hannah B. So pretty.

Colton: Have you ever seen rock formations like this?

Hannah B. I think so? Is this Arizona-ish?

Colton: Yeah!

Uh oh. Colton was not impressed. He expected more from Miss Alabama, but the conversation is…dull. When in doubt, put on a tiny bathing suit and disappear into a portable, strategically placed hot tub. More comfortable in less clothes, Hannah B. started to open up.

Hannah B.: If things aren’t perfect, I will spiral and CUT A BITCH.

Colton: Ha ha ha! Let’s make a toast!

Hannah B.: I don’t know how to do that.

Then she spent the next 33 minutes pulling an eyelash off Colton’s face.

No, bitch, WE ARE MAKING A WISH RIGHT GODDAMN NOW!

The second group of girls headed off to Camp Bachelor where they wore silly uniforms, play Duck Duck Goose and Red Rover, and make catty remarks about each other. This totally reminds me of college. (Theater major, heyyyyyyyyyy!)

Colton said, “shuttlecock” and all the girls blushed.

Then comedian Billy Eichner showed up for no good reason. Colton’s cue card forced him to say he was a big fan because “Billy just says what’s on his mind!” So cool!

Billy announced the girls were going to compete in some good old fashioned camp games. Losers go home, winners go to sleepaway camp with Colton. Everyone has to get to third base in the woods.

Wait. I could win and have to sleep in the mud, pee in a bucket, and not be able to plug in my flat iron OR lose and go back to a heated pool and craft services at Bachelor Mansion? Hmm…

Onyeka promised to murder someone if she got sent home because some dumb, skinny bitch couldn’t walk a straight line while balancing an egg on a spoon in her mouth hole.

Red team won.

Yellow team cried.

Ol’ virgin lips Heather wanted to tell Colton she’s never kissed a boy but is scared he’ll think she’s not ready for marriage. Umm, honey? You’re not ready for an 8th grade dance, but you do you!

Hi, I’m Heather from Carlsbad! I’m 22, I’m a NEVER BEEN KISSED.

Wouldn’t you know it? She got the date rose!

Twenty other women are in need of roses by the time we get to the cocktail party. Honestly I don’t know if this is Episode 2 or 3 or even The Bachelor anymore. I kind of wasn’t paying attention. (Shh…)

Demi prophesizes a hard night ahead–especially for the older girls having to stand around in their high heels and compression stockings.

Some chick blasted an air horn whenever she wanted Colton’s attention. The other girls just loved that!

And becasue ABC has already given up on this season, they’re not even trying to cover up shoddy camera work or keep staffers out of their shots. Could this guy be the next bachelor? Or at least the next Fuji Water Girl.

Uhhh, should you be here, mister?

Seriously, who was this guy???

Sydney can’t take the damn air horn so she came outside banging a spoon and cookie tray in Colton’s face.

Air horn said she ain’t leaving.

So Sydney came back with a beverage tub and mallet.

Oh, when the sluts… come marching in!

The other girls were so confused. Were they supposed to be banging spoons against large, metal objects too? Was that a euphemism for what they were going to do to Colton in the fantasy suite?

Colton lost another eyelash.

Demi came out wearing a bathrobe and forced Colton to go upstairs with her.

Tracy was not having it. Uh uh. That cougar was on the scent and it smelled remarkably like jalapeno margaritas and Monistat 7.

Turns out Demi was only giving Colton an innocent massage. And she had her cocktail dress on under that robe. Silly! What did you think was happening?

Tracy cried.

Demi confronted her.

Tracy felt disrespected.

Demi told Tracy she was one of the most amazing women and storytellers she’s ever met. But she was only 23 and hasn’t met a lot of people yet. But still, she was cool for a cougar. Then she filled up her cocktail, laid down, and waited for her rose.

The itsy, bitsy bikini crawled up my butt crack…

At the rose ceremony, Colton felt hopeful. HIS WIFE WAS IN THAT ROOM. Or not. But for sure the girl who would let him dock at her harbor was in that room. Hey man, ABC was paying for the condoms. This was happening!

Tracy’s face went from confused to disturbed to deranged having to watch those other women (including THAT CHILD, DEMI) get roses. Of course she was the last rose of the night.

Wow. Last rose. Didn’t see that coming. Should have worn a hat.

Angelique on the other hand was surprised she didn’t get a rose. She felt it, ya know? He seemed like a genuine nice guy but how could he be? He didn’t give her a rose!

Annie didn’t think he got to know her. That was her biggest fear and it happened and she got her heart ripped out of her chest. It was so embarrassing and now she just wants to go home. Well, guess what! Annie, please pack your stripper heels and go.

Rejection was her biggest fear. And then she saw the back of her dress and realized that’s the last anyone saw of her.

So, uh, yep. That’s what you missed. Or at least all I can remember from the first three episodes. Who cares? Oh, fine, I do, I guess. At least until we find out why Colton jumps over that stupid fence.

Love After Lockup

A woman learns a lot from her mother. Definitely true in my case. My mom has enriched my life by exposing me to the beliefs, values, and norms of others so I may become a citizen of the world.

You might remember maternal wisdom nuggets like this and this. I owe it all to my mother’s guiding light (which happens to be invisible like that of the infrared beam cast from a remote control onto a television.)

The holidays bring us together and provide the perfect foundation (her bed) for us to reconnect (watch tv) and expose me to new and enriching opportunities (reality tv.)

And because this citizen of the world is a selfless governess of cultural evangelism, I am here to educate you on one of the most amazing reality phenomena you are surely not witnessing.

Ladies and gentlemen, have you heard the good news about Love After Lockup? Here, take a pamphlet.

Love After Lockup introduces several couples in various stages of their journey from confinement to consummation. In some cases they knew each other prior to the big lockup, but most cases a sexy mugshot was all it took to put pen to paper (and usually credit card to commissary) and find love after lock up.

First up was Brittany and Marcelino. It was Brittany’s release day after 2 years in the slammer for some dumb, old robbery charges. P’shaw. That was nothing compared to the 5 years she spent in la slammarita for drugs and shit. Marcelino was an earnest gentleman who’s main goal was to, “erase her past tumountants” and give the woman he’s only ever seen through plexiglass a better life. It’s a sweet goal and one maybe better served on a shelter dog, but whatever. Parolees before puppies, bitches. Marcelino and Brittany are ready to take their relationship to the “in-person” stage and we are here for it.

Marcelino waited outside the jail for 7 seconds, muttering about her whereabouts. WHERE IS SHE, MAN??? She should have been here by now. Clearly THE MAN is trying to f*ck over his girl. He’s been waiting a year for this moment. To enhance the drama, the producers encouraged Marcelino to turn his back on the prison so he totally misses Brittany’s exit and her first breath of sweet, sweet freedom.

“BABY!” She yelled, because she was unsure which of her correspondents had come to pick her up.

She threw her arms and a tall kitchen garbage bag full of commissary purchases around his neck. They awkwardly embraced like two people who have not ever spoken without the use of a telephone. Upon disentanglement, she handed him several pieces of paper that included the rules and regulations for her release.

Don’t do drugs.

Don’t kill anyone.

Don’t steal shit that’s not yours.

Do check in with your patrol officer.

“Don’t have any FUN!” Marcelino yelled, clearly unaware of why people go to prison in the first place. To him Brittany is Rudolph and the American Prison System was all of the other reindeer.

As they drove away, he stuck his middle finger out the driver’s side window and encouraged her to do the same.

“Uhh, ha, okay,” she said, pointing a timid middle digit toward the dashboard.

“NO!” Marcelino yelled. “OUT THE WINDOW! To them! To the people who won’t let you have any fun!”

Brittany agreed, reluctantly, because “do not flip off the jail as you drive away” was #14 on her rules and regulations.

Brittany asked Marcelino to take her to the desert because she need a “moment of alone time.” Rightfully so, she wanted to take in the silence and clear her head. He pulled over on the side of a busy road where she proceed to walk 8 feet from the car. Ahhhhh, namaste! Serenity now!

Where can a girl get a little peace, quiet, and huff some exhaust?

Marcelino takes “a moment” literally because within seconds he’s on her, talking loudly about how great silence is and how much she must have missed this. I feel ya, Brittany. Good luck.

Next we met Lizzie and Scott.

Definitely here for the right reasons.
Sorry, ladies, this one is taken. For now.

Approximately 1 hour after Scott picked Lizzie up from prison, she was filling a plastic garbage can at a gas station mini mart because, “she hasn’t been to a store in so long” and Scott promised her “anything she wanted.” What she wanted was junk food, Yoohoo’s, and scratch off lottery tickets. Fill it up, my pretty prison princess! Since they began their correspondence THREE YEARS AGO, Scott had given Lizzie $92,000. Yes. That much. He is now broke and afraid to tell her. Terrible timing!

Lizzie’s fantastic first freedom day continued at the local Comfort Inn. There Lizzie, her embarrassed, awkward daughter, Scott’s embarrassed awkward son, and Scott checked into to two rooms (on Scott of course!) so they can chill out, relax, and reconnect. Boys in one room, girls in the other, because Lizzie didn’t believe in premarital sex. I mean, she did. Definitely before prison and even sometimes in prison, but not now that she’s out of prison. She was born again! Saved! Found Jesus in a pile of chicken gravy. Not sure Scott got the memo, but I’m sure he’s totally cool with it.

First thing Lizzie did in her comped mini-suite was spontaneously stage a mother-daughter jumpfest on the king sized bed. Her daughter was like, “Eh…there’s cameras here and so is that sad, squirrely dude you swindled out of $92,000, and being a teenager is hard enough without my friends seeing me jump on a Comfort Inn mattress with my ex-con mom.” But clearly Lizzie puts the CON in convincing because in seconds they’re squealing and holding hands and realizing jumping on mattresses isn’t really that much fun. Pooped, the girls fall into the bed, which Scott takes as a sign that he should join them.

“Ahhh, what the actual f*ck?! You ain’t Jesus!”

Lizzie didn’t really have much in the wardrobe department, so she tasked her daughter with going to the Forever 21 outlet and buying a bunch of clothes 3 sizes too small. Her first ensemble was a painful bikini that pumped her internal organs through various folds and tucks of flesh like royal icing through a pastry bag.

And this is why you should never sleep on hotel bedspreads.

Lizzie trotted down the hallway in her swimsuit and platform flip-flops to wash the stench of incarceration off her body and be baptized in the glory of chlorine and Giardia.

Meanwhile, we saw a sad Scotty pace around the parking lot, afraid things have changed now that Lizzie was a free woman. So this is what $92,000 and a ride home from prison got you? It was like she was ignoring him or something. Like she only wanted him to buy her gas station food and pay for a hotel room so she could hang out with the daughter whose formative years were spent with a mother behind bars. Lizzie didn’t even know he was broke yet! She had no business treating him like this!

And this is why you shouldn’t swim in hotel pools.

After 9 hours in the pool, Lizzie noticed Scott wasn’t there. She found him sulking in the parking lot and berated him for being alone.

“Are you mad at me,” he asked her.

“No.”

“Your body language says you are.”

“Well, you’re a goddamn fragile egg! Why are you trying to mess up my prison release day? You know this shit only happens once a year!”

“Welp,” a forlorn looking Scott said, “It’s not going to work out.”

Y’all are gonna need a shot of penicillin before I tell you about Matt and Caitlyn. We met our heroine on Matt’s release day. This should have been a happy occasion, but instead she’s in an empty parking lot, sobbing in her car because for SOME INEXPLICABLE REASON Matt wasn’t at the designated meeting spot. I’m still not sure why and honestly it doesn’t matter because some seriously crazy, gross shit went down (that’s a hint) when these 2 ass clowns finally do meet.

A cop told Caitlyn to follow his windowless, white van to an even emptier parking lot where Matt will allegedly be deposited. Because she’s never seen a Lifetime movie she unquestionably agreed and peeled away, still shaking and sobbing.

Someday my prisoner prince will come.

Caitlyn and Matt are the real deal. She saw his photo online and decided he was hot and that was that. They started a correspondence and he proposed over the phone. She felt confident in their relationship, but sometimes worried about how comfortable Matt felt in prison. It’s his happy place, okay?

But wait. What’s that? A van? With someone in the back? OMG, can it be????

SHIT! I forgot my plastic garbage can. How my gonna shop at the Hess Mart?

Matt jumped out of the van and it was all cupped ass cheeks and open mouth kisses from then on.

Yeah, I made my mom pause the TV so I could take a picture of it. I did it for YOU!

Matt said it had been 3 years since he had sex and as reliable and attached as he was to his hand, he’s kind of tired of it.

“I’m ready for Caitlyn.” Gosh that’s romantic!

As they were walking to her car, Caitlyn came to the realization that she’s never seen Matt’s penis. Also romantic!

“You’re gonna have to show that to me,” she said. “I need to inspect you.”

Used to taking orders and pulling down his pants, Matt obliged. He smiled out the passenger side window and Caitlyn shrieked.

This is why you shouldn't swim in hotel pools.
Inspector ding-a-ling is pleased, no?

They drive away to a nice, cozy clearing on the side of the road where they hump on a pile garbage and roadkill.

Our last couple isn’t actually a couple. No, not because they have common sense, values, or self-esteem. Because they’re actually a trio, silly!

Michael had a baby with Sarah. According to Michael they are no longer together. Megan fell in love with Michael while he was in jail. These long-distance jaillovebirds have been “together” for a year and a half. Megan knows about Michael’s baby mama, but she’s not worried. She knows he will always be honest and try really hard not to cheat on her. Megan was planning on flying out to be there for Michael’s release day. Oh, and loose her virginity because “It’s about time.” Megan was so excited!

Meanwhile…

Megan wasn’t the only one excited! Or more specifically excited to pick Michael up from prison. Sarah didn’t know about Megan. Oh, and she’s married to Michael. Oopsie! Michael is not detail oriented.

While Megan was printing her boarding pass, Michael called to say she shouldn’t come.

“Nah, it’s cool. I got a ride. Plus I gotta deal with some baby mama shit and see my kid and stuff.”

Megan was all “WTF! I bought a new pair of leggings for the plane! Why you telling me this shit now???”

Michael promised he had something “real special” planned for them instead. Megan wished Michael told her this before her shelled out three paychecks on a nonrefundable plane ticket. Now she’s questioning their whole relationship. Was he being shady? And she’s still a virgin. She found a restroom and cried in a bathroom stall.

The verdict: Is it possible to find love after lockup? I have no idea because that’s where this episode ended. Is it possible to love Love After Lockup? Yes, I’m afraid it is. It’s been days and I can’t stop thinking about these Godforsaken people. Did Scott ever tell Lizzie he’s broke? Did Brittany ever get any time alone? Did Matt and Caitlyn get eaten by a bear while humping in a rest area garbage can? Is the bear okay???

This show had remarkable similarities to The Bachelor, which is probably why I liked it. Deep down I’m a sucker for hopeful romantics. All they really want is love. And $92,000 worth of nacho cheese and beef sticks. And isn’t that something we can all relate to?

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.

Shocking.

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.

Sigh…

 

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:

STILL NOT OVER IT. 

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.

 

The Bachelor: Lost Limbs…and Shit

I watched 45 minutes of The Bachelor while on the treadmill and really I should loose 84 pounds by the time this train wreck of a season is over. It’s…so…hard…to…look…away. But I did. But only because I was so excited TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENED IN THE FIRST 3 MINUTES!

First, yes, something AMAZING happens later in the show that I haven’t “officially” gotten to yet, but I totally YouTubed because I heard how good it was. (When your male co-workers seek you out to talk about something that happened on The Bachelor, that is some good TV right there.) And it was. But in the worst possible way. It’s almost like The Bachelor is making fun of itself. Like they’re all, “Well. We’ve pretty much sunk to as low as we can go. Our bachelor is super boring and a solid NYC/LA 5 (Scottsdale 7.5), and no one is going to forgive us for not casting that other guy. Might as well bust out the sepia-toned reenactments to illustrate just how wicked dumb our cast is.”

Who me?

Yes, Peter, you. It should have been you. WE GET IT!

Whatevs.

BUT WE ARE NOT THERE YET.

We are here.

A lovely sunny morning. The girls are half drunk on champagne and rosé all day when Chris Harrison arrived. He gave them this ominous message:

One of you will be Arie’s wife.

There was an audible gasp like they just heard, “4 out of 6 of you will become Restylane-intolerant.” It was almost like a threat, like Chris knew they’d rather grow hermit crab claws and pull out their own eyelash extensions than have to accept Arie’s thoughtfully chosen Neil Lane sparkler. They’re not here for him! They’re here to audition for the next season of The Bachelorette! But Chris reminded them how real this is. If he had to suffer through this season, so did they. Remember your purpose, ladies! You are nothing more than Jabba’s palace dancers in ankle booties and slouchy sweaters. NOW DANCE!

Oh, fine.

Chris left them with a date card. The girls went ballistic, side-eyeing the shit out of each other and smacking the fresh mimosa off their lips like storm-addled waves hitting the shores of Desperation Island. The first one-on-one date of the season went to Becca K who was whisked off on a motorcycle.

A motorcycle! Egads!

Motorcycles are great because they spark conversational gold like this awesome exchange between Chelsea (villain) and two other girls who are probably named Lauren.

CHELSEA: I’m jealous.

MAYBE LAUREN 1: Yeah.

CHELSEA: I really like the feeling of being behind something that is bigger than me. Like…holding on and stuff.

MAYBE LAUREN 1: Yeah.

MAYBE LAUREN 2: I’m like, totally scared of motorcycles. My dad had a really bad motorcycle accident and I know people who have like lost limbs and things like that.

Like, LIMBS, you guys. This is some serious shit.

MAYBE LAUREN 1: Huh.

MAYBE LAUREN 2: If I was on that date, I would have to like, had to tell him…

MAYBE LAUREN 1: It’s good…it’s good that you weren’t.

CHELSEA leans close to MAYBE LAUREN 2 and bit her head off.

End Scene

Ladies and gentlemen, this is what true empathy looks like. Also what six bottles of rosé before 9AM looks like.

Meanwhile… Arie and Becca K ride off to a mysterious mansion where they meet Scooby Doo and some meddling kids. Not really. But they did run into an awful lot of shellfish. Like an ungodly amount.

What in the name of Long John Silver is going on here?

It was dangling from pedestals three feet in the air. It was clinging to the Carrara marble countertop. It was a bizzaro Hansel and Gretel under the sea. I mean, what kind of budget are working with here, ABC?

Seriously a LOT of shellfish! Was it someone’s birthday or something? Did Uber Eats totally screw up the order? Is craft services super high?

It was festooned across Arie’s chin and eventually his lap because no way was he letting that shit go to waste. He’s the God damn Bachelor, America! Not that God damn Peter guy! He may not get the girl, but he’s eating the shit out of some shellfish.

If you think the location of the date was rather random– a really nice house overlooking the water– the actual date activities will really jumble your brain. All 26 pounds of Rachel Zoe popped out from behind a clothing rack (we know she ain’t here for the shellfish)

“Surprise!” Arie said. “That’s Rachel Zoe. She’s going to style you!”

Becca made like she was going in for a hug, but really she was blinking out distress signals.

I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE HERE WITH HIM. STOP. HE HAS CRABS. LOTS AND LOTS OF CRABS. STOP.

But alas, she stuck around and tried on 136 evening gowns and surprise again! She got to keep them all thanks to Arie. (But really ABC. And Rachel. But okay, Arie, small victory for you.)

I realized this was ABC’s weak attempt to make us like Arie. Like he’s such a gentleman! A true Prince Charming! He’s not here because he’s a D-list fame whore from Scottsdale. He really cares about these girls! He wants to make them feel special! It’s all about the girls. Instead I feel sad because I wonder how tough times have gotten for Rachel Zoe. I used to really like her show.

But I digress.

And then when they were enjoying some champs by the sea some random dude in sunglasses and a suite waddles up to them. NOT WEIRD AT ALL.

“Neil Lane sends his regards,” he said, handing Arie a briefcase.

Oh good! ABC is cutting this season short! It’s the final rose ceremony! Oh, it’s not? Sigh…Not a ring. Just everything else: Earrings, bracelets, a necklace to go with the free outfit she’ll don later that night. Arie kept telling her she deserved it. He really wanted to spoil her. He’s really grossing me out. But man, Becca K is pretty much guaranteed to walk off this show with something of value. FINALLY!

Becca almost got bludgeoned with empty chardonnay bottles when she returned to the lady house. Bitch, do not walk through these doors in your inappropriate sparkling shoes (Louboutins! Also a freebie!) with your shopping bags full of Rachel Zoe promotional consideration. DO NOT. Bibiana (who–how did I miss this before–is clearly this season’s mujer loca), got super emotional looking at those shoes because where she comes from that is clearly a sign of impending marriage. Why don’t they all just go home now?

The date continued in the evening with a fake dinner where Becca talked about her late father (sad) and Arie talked about race cars (of course.) Then Arie mashed his “pillow lips” up against her face while they mumbled about how much they liked kissing each other while they were kissing each other.

BUT THAT WASN’T THE REALLY GOOD PART!

There was another one-on-one date with Krystal where Arie took her back to his hometown of Scottsdale because he forgot to feed his cats and might have left his curling iron on. They watched home videos, looked through his color-coded closet, drove past the Pizza Hut where he worked before getting the call from ABC to be the next bachelor. Oh, and they dropped by to meet his sad, Dutch family.

After meeting Arie’s brother and sister-in-law, Arie’s mom and Krystal had this fun exchange:

MOM: They just got married.

KRYSTAL: Oh, that’s nice!

MOM: They are nice normal people who met in a nice, normal way.

KRYSTAL: So great!

MOM: Not on TV.

KRYSTAL: I get it, nice Dutch lady.

MOM: They got married in the Netherlands. Not on a TV show.

KRYSTAL: Look bitch, I don’t like your son anyway. None of us do so there’s not going to be a freakin’ wedding– televised or otherwise. Bye now!

That is also where I had to say buh bye because my legs were getting all liquidy and someone had to pick the child up from pre-school. I can’t wait to tell you about the REALLY GOOD* thing that happened!

*That, ladies and gentlemen, is a cliffhanger made all the more intense by the fact I’m writing this THREE days after the episode aired. Don’t you dare Google it! Wait for me! I’ll be back!

So I Watched The Bachelor. A Little.

Okay, fine, I started watching the new season of The Bachelor but only because it was my first day back on the treadmill in 729 days and I needed a good distraction.

Here’s what I know so far:

  • Ari likes blondes
  • Oops, I mean, “Arie”
  • There are so many race car puns
  • I still don’t like him
  • I don’t think Chris Harrison likes him (“Wow, you haven’t managed to have a relationship in five years, huh? Wow, wow, wow. So here we are.”)
  • Even the girls were struggling to think of good things to say about him (“He…um…has such a full head of hair!”)

As for the cast, well you’ve got your spray tans and baby voices and nervous chardonnay drinkers. And clearly casting couldn’t find enough delusional fame whores to date Ari (sorry, ARIE) so they cast the same girl three times.

Head tilt left, head tilt left, head tilt right. There! Now they’ll never know it’s the same girl! 

And of course the usual tropes are immediately obvious:

The “I’m not here to make friends” award goes to:

“Hair down, boobs out, bitches.”

Interesting facts about Chelsea: she also fills the “single mom” trope. (Let’s pour one out for that poor kid) and she bears an uncanny resemblance to one of the best villains of all time: Olivia!

Girl, let me tell you exactly how this shit ends: Alone, on an island, sweating in your mom jeans.

The only thing Chelsea likes about women is talking shit about them. Chelsea is going to love living in a house with 28 other women–especially when they all get on the same cycle.

The “Lovable Weirdo” award goes to:

Dead things, dead things, yay for dead things!

She has a tiny guitar she used to serenade a dead seal. That’s right– Kendall likes dead things. As in taxidermy. She collects it, what? Relationships end (for her a year was her longest) but dead things last forever! Can’t argue with that! Kendall is my top pick!

The “Overcompensating Entrance” award goes to:

Wow, these girls were really leaning into the whole race card driver thing. One girl even made a god awful “pit stop” joke after making Ari (GOD DAMMIT ARIE) smell her B.O. BEKAH, the nanny from Fresno, rode in on a cherry red Mustang, only to be bested by Maquel (that’s right, bitches, MA-QUEL) who showed up in an actual race car. I mean, come on BEKAH! Why you gotta be half-assing it on day 1?! Also spell your name right! Also girls with short hair never go far on this show. YOU KNOW THAT! Does a nanny not pull in enough coin to spring for some damn hair extensions???

Does this helmet make my daddy issues look big? Because lemme tell you– they’re HUGE!

The “Have you never seen this show?” award goes to:

Hey, Valerie? So this is a reality show called, The Bachelor where we pick a bunch of spray tanned, bouncy haired girls with little self-esteem, but lots of cut out dresses to all compete for one man’s affections. There are a lot of girls– really pretty girls– here because THAT’S THE WHOLE FREAKIN’ PREMISE OF THE SHOW, YOU DUMMY!

So many girls! This must be where Wonder Woman lives!

The “Why can’t I find love” award goes to:

Okay, so they could all pretty much get this coveted award, but I’m going with Maquel because she flat out whinnied, “Why can’t I find love?” (Or some strain of that B.S.) during her intro montage.

Maquel photographs newlyweds so she can steal their stupid, selfish souls and keep them in bell jars in her closet.

She’s a photographer who loves to shoot (like literally shoot!) engaged couples so she can make them feel bad for finding each other while she’s still single. SO RUDE! Hey Maquel, do you know why you can’t find love? Because you’re TWENTY-THREE! Cool your freakin’ jets. No love until you can legally rent a car, okay? Speaking of which, Alamo should not have let you drive that race car off the lot!!! Hope you had a co-signer!

The “Lauren” award goes to:

How many Laurens can you stuff in a limo? There’s always at least 2 per season, but there was a bumper crop this year because we got 4.

So I’ll be Double, you be Double and you guys can be Toil and Trouble. Yay! Image credit: PAUL HEBERT VIA GETTY IMAGES

The non-Laurens could hardly believe it. What was this, some kind of nomenclature sorcery?

And that’s what I know 43 minutes into the show. Will I keep watching? Am I already hooked? Can I quit this stupid show?

Oh fine. More later.

The Bachelor, Week 10: Reindeer Games Make Nick Look Lame

The Bachelor is leading us to believe all Finland has to offer is packs of running deer and snow. (And the Northern Lights if, you know, natural phenomenons are your bag.) That all may be true, but it’s time to update the tourism brochures. Finland can now proudly proclaim itself to be the locale where Raven had her first orgasm. That’s right. Nick brought his chunky cable knit sweater and his A-Game to the Fantasy Suite and left Raven, “Pretty satisfied.”

The next morning as she snuggled in a fur blankie and bid Nick adieu with a smooch and an “I love you,” Raven believed that was the first “meaningful” I love you with her future husband. Clearly she was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.

As if her words were not vomit-inducing enough, we were then treated to a “My First Orgasm” music montage where a “fully awoken” Raven ran around poor, beautiful, peaceful Finland nuzzling dogs, high-fiving strangers, kissing reindeer, making snow angels, and poking her dumb hat-heavy head out from behind sculptures. I mean…what the…?

I can't wait to tell the folks back in Arkansas about this! Oh wait! I already did. I'm on TV, y'all!
I can’t wait to tell the folks back in Arkansas about my first orgasm! Oh wait! I already did. I’m on TV, y’all!

Just…stop, Raven. I don’t get you. Never have. If I could muster a morsel of a positive feeling towards Nick I would wonder what he sees in you, but I can’t. So I don’t. I think you should get married and take each other off the market and hump in the Arkansas mud and make enough babies to fill a Sunday School class. Also, your hat is stupid.

And on the 10th week, the Lord said: Man, give Raven a freakin' orgasm so she can finally stop embarrassing her daddy.
And on the 10th week, the Lord said: Man, give Raven a freakin’ orgasm so she can finally stop embarrassing her daddy by talking about it on national TV!

After Nick left Raven pretty satisfied in the Fantasy Suite, he met up with Rachel for another fun afternoon of stereotypical winter activity and mediocre satisfaction. They cross-country skied (perfect activity for a girl from Texas and a douche on two legs) to a safari where they geeked out on some reindeer who were less than impressed by these stupid Americans who were pretending to fall in love on TV.

Even this reindeer knows what stupid jackasses these humans are. HE'S LAUGHING AT YOU GUYS! A freakin' reindeer!
This reindeer was all like, “Ew, you stupid clowns! You know this shit ain’t real, right?” HE’S LAUGHING AT YOU GUYS! A freakin’ smiling reindeer!

“We’re just trying out new adventurers together,” Rachel mused. “There’s something beautiful and romantic about that.”

What wasn’t beautiful and romantic was the rational, sad, neglected voice inside Rachel’s head that didn’t believe all this hooey and therefore wouldn’t let her say stupid things like, “I love you!”

Instead she said, “I’m scared. Scared of rejection. Scared of putting it out there and him not giving it back.”

Oh honey, whatever Nick is putting out there, you’re surely going to get back. In fact, call your gyno now.  

But alas. The Rational Rachel was asked to take a seat while Regretful Rachel had a nice, little chat with Nick.

Nick: I like strong people. I like strong women. I like knowing where I stand.

Rachel: I’m falling in love with you! Oh god, that’s so stupid I might make myself sick!

Nick: I’m totally falling for you too! 100%! You’re going to be such a great Bachelorette! Want to go to the Fantasy Suite?

Rachel: Totes! Just let me get my diaphragm!

Rachel felt good, she felt confident, she felt loved. Soon she would feel a burning sensation when she peed, but that’s besides the point.

“This is exactly the man i’m supposed to be with,” she beamed.

Ugh.

See what good and confident gets ya? A face full of morning breath and an UTI.
See what good and confident gets ya? A face full of morning breath and an UTI.

Rachel loved waking up with Nick–until he ate the breakfast off her plate and begged off to meet up with his other girlfriend.

Last but not least likely to get an STD, it was Vanessa’s turn to don a stupidly tall knit hat and wait outside in the cold for Nick to take her someplace even colder. They both hoped whatever unbearably frigid thing the producers cooked up would be better than that day they spent in Montreal with Vanessa’s annoying sane, close, cynical family and their constant barrage of inane questions.

Because their relationship had always been so, “hot and steamy,” Nick thought a Finnish ice bath would be an appropriate activity.

Is it the snow and arctic temps or did Nick just get really doughy?
Is it the snow and arctic temps or did Nick just get really doughy? And why such a small belly button.

Nick: Hey! We’re going to wear matching, ill-fitting swimsuits, hang out in a boiling hot sauna, and then run outside to submerge ourselves in a freezing ass lake.

Vanessa: My family was right– you suck.

Nick: I don’t want to do it either, okay? But all the good dates were already taken by my other girlfriends.

Vanessa: I want to murder you. Like chop you up and feed you to the reindeer.

After the third dip in the freezing ass lake, Vanessa started enjoying it, which goes to prove this woman has terrible taste in pretty much everything.

After telling Nick how strong her feelings were for him, she promptly threw up in his lap.
After telling Nick how strong her feelings were for him, she promptly threw up in his lap.

Once they were warm and dry, they discussed Vanessa’s very traditional family and Nick’s blatant dislike of very traditional families.

Nick: I once dated a girl who’s family was very…present. I hated it. I hate family. They all suck. I wish I was hatched from a bed bud and sunflower seed.

Vanessa: I will never compromise on ANYTHING! Especially not spending six hours with my family EVERY, SINGLE SUNDAY!

Nick: Like every Sunday?

Vanessa: I just hope you remember that relationships are based on compromises!

Nick: But you just said you would never compromise.

Vanessa: I WON’T! You will be doing all the compromising, assface!

That night Vanessa became confused. Maybe she had a delayed case of hypothermia? Maybe the sight of Nick in a tiny blue weenie bikini zapped her out of this forced romantic reverie? Or maybe she just hadn’t had enough to drink yet. While she could picture spending the rest of her life with Nick, she didn’t understand why their conversations were always so heavy. Also, why the hell wouldn’t he want to spend ¾ of every day with her family? I mean, what the literal hell? And speaking of family, Vanessa figured now was as good a time as any to talk about the whole, “What country would we live in if you proposed?” question they were all so obsessed with. (ANSWER: Doesn’t freakin’ matter! Before you can Google “What the eff is a toonie?” your fake love story will be resigned to old Us Weekly’s languishing on Bombay Company end tables in dentist waiting rooms.

Neither Nick nor Vanessa seemed interested in leaving their home countries so they decided to talk about it after spending the night in the Fantasy Suite.

In the morning, Vanessa had been duped into thinking Nick was her other half. She believed herself to the luckiest person in the world, but was admittedly a little worried because they still hadn’t settled on which country they’d live in. But oh well! Time for a Rose Ceremony!

Even the luckiest woman in the world wasn’t immune to a little insecurity and doubt. Standing next to Raven and Rachel who also reeked of eau de Fantasy Suite toiletries made her wonder if she was good enough. (ANSWER: Honey, the day you hit send on your application was the day you should have asked yourself that.)

But I digress.

Nick was a hot mess, barely able to properly thank each of the girls for taking the time to sleep with him without bursting into tears. He sniveled and cried as he handed roses to Raven and Vanessa.

Oh no way. You mean the girl who was tapped to be the next Bachelorette a MONTH AGO didn’t get a rose?! No way, ABC. Didn’t see that coming. Impressive run, Rachel. We’ll see you soon. Maybe not soon enough for Nick.

Rachel: Ew. I can’t believe I thought we had a thing.

Nick: You’re the most incredible woman I ever met. I hope this isn’t goodbye forever. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge!

Rachel: Ew. Just…ew.

Nick: I’m always going to think of you. Even after I propose to and dump one of those bimbos over there. Can I walk you out?

Before she got into the back of the limo, Nick hugged her tight. Like really tight. Maybe he really liked her but ABC paid him to dump her. Or maybe they really liked her and promised him a spot on her season the The Bachelorette.

As a lone tear streamed down Rachel’s cheek in the back of the limo, Nick popped a squat next to a lantern and cried.

I'm not crying. I'm goddamn freezing! Why do all the other Bachelors get to go to warm locations?
I’m not crying. I’m goddamn freezing! Why do all the other Bachelors get to go to warm locations?

Who will Nick chose to enter into a highly publicized, ill-fated relationship with? Only one more week of putting up with Nick and his fake feelings! Weeeeeeeee!

The Bachelor, Week 9: Suite Tart

There’s good news and bad news about this week’s episode of The Bachelor:

Good news: It was only an hour!

Bad news: It involved one long, drawn out, pathetic , TMI-filled date between Raven and Nick.

Good news: It’s Fantasy Suite time! Bahahahaha!

Bad news: It involved Raven and Nick.

Good news: There was a big, fat, kiss off at the Rose Ceremony.

Bad news: I’m already bored without her.

Don’t worry, we’ll get there. But if I had so suffer through Nick and Andi’s incredibly fake, obviously scripted, weird role-play then so do you. That’s what friends do.

Nick: I’m so vulnerable! Is this how you felt?

Andi: Oh god, no! You’re a loser!

Nick: You dumped me on national TV!

Andi: I’d do it again in a heartbeat. In fact, can I? We’re on TV right now!

Nick: Maybe I’ll dump someone on national TV. Ever think of that?

Andi: Nope.

Nick: What? I don’t have to marry one those bitches just because I’m the Bachelor and ABC is paying me to!

Andi: High five, you bad boy, you! Oh hey, are you going to have sex with all of them in the Fantasy Suite?

Nick: Uh duh, Andi. But probably not all at once. I mean, unless they’re cool with that.

Andi: Know what I think? Who cares? DO IT! Bang ‘em all! You’re dating them! You have three girlfriends! You already met their parents! You’ve been on at least three dates. DO IT! Don’t buy a cow without a test drive. Or, wait, what? Who cares. Just DO IT!

Nick: Wow, Andi! Great advice!

Andi: Right? I’m such a feminist! Roar!

Nick: I’m not sure telling a dude to bang three different women and not care about it is being a feminist, but oh well!

Andi: WHO CARES???

Nick: Sorry I told everyone we slept together and then slut-shamed you for two years.

Andi: Sorry I humiliated you on national television. I mean, I’m sorry. Not regretful. You’re still a loser.

Meanwhile, back at the house, Vanessa couldn’t stop crying, Rachel thought she was falling in love for real this time, Raven was ready to say yes, and PV was feeling vulnerable because after their day of shopping, Nick now knew her “to the core.”

Nick was late to the Rose Ceremony because of his fireside chat with Andi. He made the girls wait on a rooftop deck, freezing in their mega-slit gowns, seriously regretting their choice to go Brazilian.

When he finally arrived, (dressed in all black to exemplify what a slimey bastard he was,) Nick apologized for making them wait, but failed to mention the whole “drinking whiskey with my ex-girlfriend” thing.

PV’s not a cold weather sort of gal.

OMG, PV, is that snot???
OMG, PV, is that snot???

Nick was all blah blah blah, hometowns were fun, families were nice, thanks for cooking all that pasta, sorry everyone hated me. Raven got the first rose which still surprised me. I mean, what the hell? Does her daddy own a television network or something?

Well, it ain't sweat.
Well, it ain’t sweat.

Rachel got the second rose, but we all know that ain’t happening.

And then things got nice and dramatic as Nick was forced to chose between the pretty, kind, intelligent special needs teacher or the vapid, insecure, morally defunct exhibionist. I honestly had no idea which way he would go.

But he chose…

Wait for it…

Wait…

VANESSA!!!!

No way!

PV was going ho ho home! E-jected! Gone Gonorrhea Girl! The penicillin express was leaving the station with only one bleary eyed, bleating, sadsack with a ton of baggage on board.

He had to dump her after imaging his mom's face when PV rolled into Thanksgiving dinner in this outfit.
He had to dump her after imaging his mom’s face when PV rolled into Thanksgiving dinner in this outfit.

PV burst into tears which was weird. Kind of like seeing an iguana cry. She apologized for whatever it was she did wrong.

Wait, what?! She was that girl? The “clearly-I’m-not-good-enough-for-you-so-why-didn’t-I-buy-you-the-cashmere-sweatsuit-instead” girl? Good lord, PV! Your lady parts are allegedly made of a rare, precious metal and you’re apologizing to a guy we’ve seen dumped on TV more times than that weird blue liquid on a maxi pad? Oh girl…

Nick assured her than other than submitting an application to be on this stupid show, she did nothing wrong.

“I’m gonna miss the hell out of your boobs– I mean, you,” he said.

It took all her energy to stay awake, stand up, and stutter, good luck.

Man, she was bawling. Like Raquel-said-no-more-cheesy-noodles bawling! The only thing harder than how she was taking this was the crusty, old dairy products embedded in her cleavage. That’s gonna be a bitch to get off.

As she was stuffed into the backseat of the waiting town car, she immediately got drunker, more revealing, and less coherent. (More so than usual, I mean.) Here’s the highlight reel of her confessions:

“Feels like my heart…like never will be repaired.”

“Why can’t I just have a normal relationship like they do on TV?”

“I’m done trying to show my men how much I worships and support them! Done!”

“Imma jus gonna be me…”

“Not gonna kiss up to a man ever again.”

“I’m so done.”

“And so sleepy.”

“Night, night.”

<<photo>>

Good night, PV. Unlike anything about you, it’s been real.

And bye bye, Brooklyn. It was time to pack up and head to Finland. (I’m so sorry, good people of Finland.) Thankfully PV and her perpetual snotty nose aren’t coming.

Finland wasn’t just snow and vodka. It’s the location for the Fantasy Suite dates, which incidentally was stocked with plenty of snow and vodka. For those who may not know what the Fantasy Suite is, allow me to explain. It’s the most contrived, pseudo-romantic “suite” where the Bachelor/Bachelorette and their remaining contestants can be alone without the cameras. It’s gross and awesome, but unless you’re sleeping with Nick no one knows for sure what goes down in there.

Before their date, Nick donned a parka and wandered around a snowy field looking for clarity. What he discovered was:

  • He and Vanessa still had a lot of questions to answer, superficial ones like, “Where you gonna live?” Also her family was mean.
  • Rachel was the only woman who hadn’t professed her love, but he was sure she’d get there. But if not he would still sleep with her.
  • He wasn’t entirely sure where Raven’s heart was, which might be the stupidest thing this guy ever said. Umm, really, dickhead? Two days ago she was climbing all over in a field of mud and she practically weeps whenever she looks at you. Duh

“Let’s spend the rest of the episode focused on Nick and Raven’s one-on-one date,” said the worst producer ever. Thanks a lot, jerkwad.

Raven was determined this time she would tell Nick she was in love with him. She never told any other guy that before. Well, except Jesus.

Greetings! I am Raven of the Stupid Hat Clan!
Greetings! I am Raven of the Stupid Hat Clan!

They popped into a local pub, drank beer, and played darts while locals seethed in the background. Raven felt like she was in one of those choose your own adventure books where every choice was a “new, great experience!

Yeah, Dumbo, every choice is a “new, great experience” because every choice is choreographed and paid for by a major television network! THIS IS NOT REAL LIFE!

Also, STOP PLAYING WITH YOUR HAIR!

Sorry, I must have been temporarily hypnotized by all that hair twirling because I had no idea how those two ass clowns got on the topic of household chores.

“You’ll cook and I’ll fold clothes!” she squealed.

“I like creases in my pants!” Nick squealed.

“Ew, creases!” Raven squealed.

Oh, you two crazy kids!

But Raven was only focused on Nick’s creased chinos because she needed a distraction from what was really on her mind:

  • Having to tell Nick she loved him
  • Having to have sex with Nick in the Fantasy Suite

Okay this show is gross and all, but sex in the Fantasy Suite isn’t a requirement. Just saying. Also, she casually mentioned in her confessional that she’s only had one sexual partner. Oh and she’s never had an orgasm. (Hi, Raven’s Dad!)

They escape to a cabin in the woods where someone put a lot of effort setting a table and plating food no one will even look at.

If there wasn’t all this fake food on the table I could put my elbows there like a normal person. (IMAGE CREDIT: ABC)

Raven went on a long rambling rant with lots of diversions and tears and stupid metaphors about “never having felt the feelings she was feeling” and every time she talked to him she got a “comfort feeling.” Jesus, take the wheel and make her say it! When she finally blurted out the most anti-climatic “I love you,” ever, Nick thought it was the best professions of love he ever heard. The editors begged to differ.

Raven accepted ABC’s invitation to the Fantasy Suite, but needed to remind Nick of two things:

Raven: So, umm, I’ve only had one sexual partner before. And I beat his ass with a shoe.

Nick: Cool! I’ve only had one sexual partner too…today. Heya!

Raven: Also, I’ve never had an orgasm. So like, no pressure.

Nick: Damn straight, no pressure! You think I care about reciprocation in the bedroom? Oh girl, you got a lot of mud up between those ears.

Alone with a thirty-person camera crew, Nick and Raven settled in and waited for the Northern Lights (not a euphemism.)

Will Raven add a second notch to her belt? Will she finally have an orgasm? Will any of the other remaining girls be dumb enough to sleep with this guy? Will anyone have an orgasm? Probably not. But you’ll have to wait for next week to find out for sure.

The Bachelor, Week 8: Home is Where the Ho Is

The girls were still reeling from the unceremonial dumping of Kirstina. How can Nick dump so many women without a ceremony? (ABC must be saving a ton on roses this season.) The girls are like SO DONE with surprises! I mean, what in the actual hell was going on here? It’s not like ABC was trying to get ratings or something. PV was so freakin’ unstable she had to drink her chardonnay out of a coffee mug.

And then there was a knock on door!

Gasp!

And it was Nick!

Fin-a-effing-ly!

He admitted it was tough to get rid of Kristina because he really “loved” and “respected” her and everyone knew he couldn’t possibly marry a girl like that.

“But you ho’s on the other hand,” he said as he doled out roses. “Hubba hubba!”

Hooray! All four girls were getting hometown dates!

“I am so excited to meet Raquel!” Nick squealed. 

First stop was Hoxie, Arkansas to meet Raven’s coven. She was super excited to show Nick a new side of her: fun and sexy! She demonstrated both (I guess?) by inviting Nick to partake in Hoxie’s favorite activities–mudding, frog farming, and breaking into grain bins.

Mudding is exactly what it sounds like. You climb aboard an ATV and barrel through gigantic, mud-soaked fields and get really muddy.

You can't get away from me, sweet Nick. Seriously. I'm right behind you, dummy.
You can’t get away from me, sweet Nick. Seriously. I’m right behind you, dummy.

They rolled up to a grain bin where “the people of Hoxie leave their secrets.” They got almost the top when wouldn’t you know it? The police showed up.

“What you doing here? You know who owns this here grain bin? You got any ID? You ain’t from around here, are you, sonny boy?”

Nick appeared perplexed and afraid while looking for a producer to, you know, explain things and I was wondering why the cop wasn’t telling the cameras to stop rolling, but whatever. I don’t get arrested much so what do I know? Just as Nick was about to submit to a cavity search, SURPRISE! It was just Raven’s brother! Oh man! You totally got us, Raven’s brother!

“Don’t be kissing on the grain bin!” He warned. “I’ll be watching!”

You will be? EWWWWWW, Raven’s brother! 

After the police fake out, they resumed mudding activities and got good and soaked. Raven stripped Nick down so they could enjoy a nice lil’ biblical wrestle in the mud. Wearing a white t-shirt today was totally a good choice, Raven. Where was that creepy brother now?

Here, let me get you out of those wet, muddy clothes. It's what Jesus would want.
Here, Jesus wouldn’t want you in those wet, muddy clothes…

Nick felt like this was a huge step forward in their relationship. Or wait, maybe he meant this:

Holy muddy make-out! Just the way Jesus would want it.
Holy muddy make-out! Just the way Jesus would want it.

They’d have some serious cleaning up to do before meeting her parents, but first a bit more dirty.

Imma gonna hold you right down here in this here Hoxie mud until you agree to marry me. Think of it less like assault and more like a baptism.
Come on, Nick. Think of it less like assault and more like a baptism.

 As they approached Raven’s parent’s front door, she casually mentioned her dad was diagnosed with lung cancer.

“Oh, umm,” Nick stammered. “I brought flowers.”

Don’t worry, it was only sad for a minute because Raven’s mom announced Dad was just declared cancer free. An actual touching moment ensued.

But so did this weird, fake romance.

Nick was only the second guy Raven had ever brought home, so it was a big deal, y’all!

“Is it weird to think you could be walking me down the aisle to marry that guy in there?” Raven asked her dad.

“Oh girl, so f’ing weird.”

Then Raven had a really sweet chat with her mom.

Raven: I thought he was going to be really arrogant, you know? Like a total toolbag.

Raven’s Mom: That’s what I thought too! I hate his face.

Raven: But then I saw him be really nice to his little sister and I was like, “Oh. He’s cool!”

Raven’s Mom: I trust your judgement!

Nick also had a heart-to-heart with Raven’s dad.

Nick: So how would you feel if your daughter wanted to marry me?

Raven’s Dad: Pretty shitty!

Nick: I care about her a lot. She’s definitely in my top four.

Raven’s Dad: Well, I admit, I wasn’t expecting to like you. I mean, you’re kind of a loser. But I guess I’d rather her marry you than the cheating bastard she beat up with her shoe.

Raven left her family feeling reassured and hopeful and decided the time was right to tell Nick she’d totally say yes if he wanted to propose to her.

“I have no reservations,” she said. And then promptly beat herself up for not saying, “I love you.” I mean, Nick’s not that smart. What if he didn’t get what she meant? Great. Now she’d probably be the only girl left who hadn’t said it! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Next it was off to Dallas to meet Rachel’s family. After a huggy, kissy reunion on a sidewalk, Rachel whisked Nick off to a gospel church filled with black people because she wanted Nick to be “super comfortable.”

Yep. Super confortable.
Yep. Super confortable.

Even though this church was different from his church back home (wait. what?) he had an amazing time. So amazing that Nick was ready to spend every Sunday being the only white guy in Rachel’s church.

Unfortunately Rachel’s dad wasn’t home due to “work obligations” (READ: Deep seated humiliation and disgust) but Nick did get to meet her mom, aunt, sisters and WHITE-ASS brother-in-law!

“You don’t need to have black skin,” Rachel said. “But you need to have thick skin.”

Her sister and white brother-in-law grilled Rachel and Nick first.

“Is Rachel the first black girl you’ve ever dated?” White brother-in-law asked.

“Well, define ‘dated.’ I mean, I sleep with black girls all the time. Or at least I did twice.”

Rachel’s mom was also curious about Nick’s history with black women. She also shared advice she imparted on her daughters.

“Always look for red flags in relationships,” she said. “So Nick, what are Rachel’s red flags?”

“Uh, uh, uh…other than wanting to marry me? I mean, that’s a pretty huge red flag, don’t you think?”

Finally Nick jetted off to Miami to meet the weird ass mutants that spawned such a debaucherous egomaniac who can’t keep her clothes on. Nick was super excited to be in Miami. He had no clue what PV had in store for him, but knowing her he figured it probably would involve nudity and pubic lice.

Because she really wanted Nick to get to know “her true essence”, and because she’s a superficial, conceited twitwit, the date she planned was a tour of all the places she felt most at home–a very upscale shopping mall where it’s common to put on fancy clothes and dry hump in front of the mannequins.

 

 

$1,700 earmuffs just get me so damn hot!
“Oh, Nick, $1,700 earmuffs just get me so damn hot!” “Oh, PV, you’re hot because you’re wearing earmuffs in Miami!” 

Nick was blown away by the fact every single sales associate knew her intimately and the $1,400 sweatsuit she made him try on. She wanted Nick to look good when meeting her parents so she bought him an outfit costing more than an entire year of spray tans for the Miami University cheerleading team.

You guys, the outfit cost $3,423!!!

You guys, she paid for it!

You guys, he let her!

Once she had Nick outfitted properly, she made a tiny confession: She loved him! Oh puke. They consummated her egregious and highly inappropriate declaration with a sloppy makeout session outside a fake Parisian mall bistro.

Wow. PV has some serious sun damage.

But anyway…

PV’s parents looked like nice, cuddly, friendly adults who other than Nick’s mom and dad were the only parents who had any concern over Nick’s inability to meet a woman outside of televised game shows.

And yes, Nick finally got to meet RAQUEL!

You can save me! You can get me out of here! Get me to Chris Harrison!
Marry her! Just please get her the eff’ing hell away from me!

PV: The other girls made fun of me because I have a nanny.

PV’s Mom: How they hell did they find out you had a nanny?

PV: I told them.

PV’s Dad: You dumbass!

PV’s Mom: I hope you also told them Raquel is a valued and loved part of our family and has been for seventeen years. RAQUEL! I’m hungry! Serve faster, please. And be a dear and put some of these olives on my fork for me. You know I hate round food. See? FAMILY!

PV’s Dad sat her down and asked some “serious questions.”

PV’s Dad: What the eff is going on here?

PV: I love him!

PV’s Dad: For the love of god don’t tell him that!

PV: I already did!

PV’s Dad: It’s been like six days! What the hell is wrong with you!?

PV: I love him! He’d be my soulmate if I had a soul.

Dad: What’s his job?

PV: Who the hell cares? There’s no time to work when you’re always on reality TV shows.

Dad: Are you okay being the breadwinner? And have him stay home with your kids?

PV: Sure, Dad. Stop asking me questions like none of this is normal!

Later, PV’s dad and Nick enjoyed some fine scotch and another line of questioning.

PV’s Dad: You may have noticed my daughter is a superficial, materialistic little troll. I may have had something to do with that. But now she’s gonna be your problem! You ready for that?

Nick: Sure! I mean, as long as she stays super slutty and never develops any of those annoying traits like modesty or decency.

PV’s Dad: Oh sure, no chance of that happening. But you kind of need…you know…a job. What’s next for you?

Nick: I’ve got lots of irons in the fire. And by irons and fire I’m talking about my penis and the the other girls amirite!?

PV’s Dad: Cheers to that! But what’s gonna be your J.O.B., dumbass!?

Nick: There are lots of things I can do like Celebrity Rehab, Marriage Boot Camp, maybe Celebrity Boxing.

Last trip was off to Montreal to meet Vanessa’s family and her adorable students who clearly loved her. They were holding signs and handing her roses and bawling because they missed her so much. Nick was like, “BOOOORING! Do you like my new sweater? It cost more than Vanessa’s six-month earnings!”

The crew spent the afternoon creating scrapbook pages of Nick and Vanessa’s most favorite memories. Oh look! There’s Vanessa puking into Nick’s mouth! And there she is crying and doubting her value as a human being in front of a roaring fire.

Next stop was to meet Vanessa’s mother’s side of the family at Nonna’s house where 15 people sat around the most gigantic table ever set. Food was piled high, but no one cared because they all had deep, probing questions for the happy couple like:

Where will you live if he picks you?

“Oh, you know,” Vanessa answered. “I’m sure we’ll live somewhere. I don’t really want to pressure him.”

Hmm. Vanessa’s aunt started to get a sense that perhaps Nick and Vanessa don’t really…you know… talk.

Vanessa’s mom had a different line of questioning for Nick.

Mom: What do you like about my daughter?

Nick: Oh, I liked her as soon as she got out of the limo. I mean, va va va voom, riiiiiiight?

Mom: Well, you’re as gross as I thought you would be.

Vanessa’s sister was having none of it.

“Have you talked about real things?” she grilled Nick. “Like how you both live in different countries? Like where you want to live? Like what your job will be if you have to move? Like why you want to marry her?”

“Ew, sister!” Nick answered. “That kind of boring shit is what married people talk about!”

Not completely satisfied with that answer, Vanessa’s sister promised that if Nick hurt her sister, she would hate him forever. That made Nick cry.

I had no idea Canada was such a sad, sad place where everyone is so level-headed and logical. I hate it here.
I had no idea Canada was such a sad, sad place where everyone is so level-headed and logical. I hate it here.

Meanwhile Vanessa was chatting with her much younger and savier brother.

“What will you do for work? Where will you live? What the hell does he do for a living? Why do you want to marry this guy?

“Ugh! Enough with the logical questions! Who cares where people live! We’ll talk about living situations when the time is right, okay?”

All those questions really put a damper on things and they hadn’t even visited her dad yet! That visit went something like this:

Vanessa’s Dad: Why is my daughter more special than all those other bimbos?

Nick: She’s hot! And she makes me feel safe. And umm.. I like her brown hair.

Vanessa’s Dad: But do you respect her?

Nick: Come again?

Vanessa’s Dad: Will you treat her like a lady, you stupid flytrap?

Nick: Ooooh, you know it! So can I have your blessing?

Dad: Are you f’ing crazy? What did her mom say?

Nick: I didn’t ask because I did not care for her particular line of questioning.

Dad: So you want to get engaged to my daughter? Is that what you’re telling me?

Nick: Well no, because I’m still dating three other girls.

Dad: So what the hell does it mean to want my blessing?

Nick: Umm that you…don’t totally hate me?

Dad: Right. Okay, I guess!

Vanessa’s Dad told her Nick asked for his blessing, which at once made Vanessa all hopeful and then concerned. Was he asking all the other parents the same thing? Does he actually like those other girls???

The group returned to Brooklyn for the rose ceremony, because why not? All of the girls with the exception of PV were feeling insecure and having doubts about saying (or not saying) I love you. Just as Nick was deep in a faux thoughtfulness on a balcony overlooking Manhattan, there was a knock on the door. It was ANDI!  You know, the first of three women to dump him on national television. WHY WAS SHE THERE? To pay tribute to the GIANT BULLET SHE DODGED or just to make fun of him? I guess we’ll have to wait to find out. What’s with all these cliffhangers, ABC?! It’s not like this is the most boring season ever and you have to manufacture the drama. Oh…right. 

 

The Bachelor, Week 6: Can I Walk You Out?

After a pretty snoozy previous week I was ready for some epic showdowns. While I wouldn’t say there were showdowns, there were definitely “show you the doors,” which is almost as good.

The episode opened with the girls pondering what could possibly have happened in the bayou on the dreaded two-on-one. Did Nick cast PV off to the nearest walk-in clinic or was Taylor forced to seek comfort with her PhD and giant dictionary? WHO WAS GOING HOME?!

Their sad suitcases sat by the front door until the unamed, unspoken production assistant was sent in to fetch them. The girls held their breath as the PA pretended to not know which bag to take, drawing out the agony of suspense for a good three and a half seconds before finally settling on Taylor’s bag. The remaining girls gasped! How the hell did that slimy, stunted boob slip by for another week?

While Nick and PV enjoyed their alone time, Taylor was on the stomp of shame, heading right to the non-restaurant they were dining at. By golly she was determined to use as many big words as she could to let Nick know she was the victim of lies and manipulation. I mean, if Nick sent her packing because she was boring or condescending or lacking any positive personality traits, then FINE. Been there, done that. But she was not a bully!

Some women take off their earrings. Some take off their bras.
Some women take off their earrings before sparring. Some take off their bras.

When Taylor walked in, Nick and PV did a horrible job pretending to be surprised. PV’s drunkeness looked totally authentic though. 

PV: What the BLEEEEEEEEEEEP is she doing here?”

Taylor (to PV): You lied.

PV: Uh, duh.

Taylor (to Nick): You were lied to.

Nick: No shit.

Taylor: I care about you as a person. When you’re lied to it’s not respectful. She’s making me look bad. It’s MY job to make me look bad, not hers! How dare she take that away from me!

Nick: Honey, you look so bad right now and it’s all you. I promise!

Taylor: Quit trying to seduce me! It’s over! Open your eyeballs! I’M NOT WEARING A BRA!

Nick: I really appreciate you leaving your undergarments in the bayou and taking the time to tell me this. I have nothing but respect for you and everyone knows I can’t possibly date a woman I respect. Please leave. For real, this time.

PV  tried to be a supportive psychopathic trophy wife who pitied her man and those crazy bitches he kept having to fend off, but talking was so icky.

“Let’s make out!” she said, ramming his face into her mouth.”

Later, Nick confessed he still saw potential with PV.

“Oh wait,” he said. “Did I say potential? I meant nipples! Oh ha, sorry! I SEE NIPPLES WITH PV!”

In her confessional, PV slurred something about cats having nine lives, but bitches had two. Was she confusing “lives” with “personalities?” Because if so she’s not giving herself enough credit.

“Don’t ever call me a liar in front my boyfriend!” she screamed.

The girls arrived for the  rose ceremony by way of horse drawn carriage, but their giddiness soon soured when a very solemn Chris Harrison told them there would be no pre-ceremony cocktail party.

“Nick knows exactly what he wants to do,” he said.

You know what I want to do? Make out with this here rose. And get wasted.
Like hell there won’t be a cocktail party! Tell that to my blood alcohol content!

Jasmine burst into tears because without the cocktail party she wouldn’t have time to tell Nick how she really felt. And lemme tell you, she was feeling PISSED! Why hasn’t she had a one-on-one? Why doesn’t he talk to her? Why hasn’t he proposed to her yet? Why does she have to be the alternate African American girl?

But the Universe loves affirmative action and gave Jasmine a reprieve. Instead Nick sent home Jaime, the drag queen, and Alexis whom I will truly miss.

Jaime said she had no regrets. She’s probably only going to date women after this anyway.

No regrets, Jaime? Not even that lipstick?
No regrets, Jaime? Not even that lipstick?

Alexis blamed her ousting on the fact that she wasn’t vulnerable enough. Then she burst out crying.

The remaining girls and Nick toasted the next stop on the Bachelor tour: THE ISLAND OF ST. THOMAS! Nick was super excited because according his calculations, this was the week he would start falling in love.

Kristina the Russian got the first one-on-one date.

As her and Nick took off in a seaplane, the other girls waved and blew kisses. Except Jasmine who was bawling on a street corner.

“It’s hurtful,” she said. “Watching the man you saw your future with take off with someone else.”

Nick was determined to find out everything there was to know about Kristina. He started pestering her, the girl who grew up in an orphanage, about family.

Kristina: I have 9 siblings.

Nick: Wow. So there’s 10 of you?

Kristina: No. Maybe 8.

Nick: So, 9 including you?

Kristina: No. I don’t know. But I have a sister in Russia. Let’s drink!

But Nick really wanted to press on about her life in the orphanage and nail down how many god damn siblings she had and wouldn’t stop until he got Kristina to tell this really heartwarming tale about how one day when she was little she was so hungry she ate lipstick. Then when she was five her mom got mad at her for something and sent Kristina to the orphanage. The end. Or something like that. I was too sad to keep listening. Nick cried big, droopy man tears as he gave her the rose and all the food off his plate, some cash, and a few credit cards. Later a steel drum band played Ave Maria so they could awkwardly sway like white people, under a gazebo.

Back the resort, the conversation was a lot more peppy!

Vanessa: Did you know St. Thomas was once owned by Denmark?

Other girls: No. Wow.

Annnnnnnnnd scene.

Suddenly there was  a knock! Was it a date card? Or Chris Harrison? Or another production assistant to snatch someone’s suitcase? No! It was a maid! PV was ecstatic and immediately began shouting orders at her.

“My dress is wrinkley!

“I’m hungry!”

“Do you have any lobster dip?”

“Fix my towel!”

“DO YOU WANT TO COME TO AMERICA WITH ME?”

Jasmine was pissed off because her name was on the group date card. Whitney and one of the Danielle’s would be going on a two-on-one. They were paralyzed with fear.

Nick thought the group date would be a fun, casual day at the beach. They drank, played corn hole, and then he forced the girls to play beach volleyball for his enjoyment. PV, not a team player, was super bored so she left to try out some other sports.

PV's sport of choice. What? Shooting is totally a sport!
What? Shooting is totally a sport!

For once the other girls agreed with PV. No one liked volleyball. NO ONE! As the welts rose on the inside of their wrists, that stupid white ball made the girls question EVERYTHING. Why was Nick paying so much attention to PV? Why did he think a good date involved competitive beach sports? WHY WERE THEY ON TV TRYING TO MARRY THIS GUY?

Shit started to get real real. Especially Jasmine’s shit.

“If jasmine were a vegetable she’d be a turnip because she’s turned all the way up.” Good one, Raven. But why would you say that?

Oh.

Bitch, down!
Bitch, this ain’t volleyball. It’s a HO DOWN! Now stay down, ho!

Holy shit, Jasmine! Did you just shove PV into the sand? I think I love you!

Rachel and Vanessa were the next ones to hit the proverbial showers. Rachel didn’t feel valued and refused to compete for Nick’s attention. (Rachel? I appreciate the sentiment, but you did sign up for a game show where you compete for some rando’s attention. Just sayin’.) Vanessa thought the whole thing was gross and annoying and too much of a metaphor for her life should she end up with Nick. One by one, the remaining girls went down like the Rum Runners PV had for breakfast. Each girl found her own private swath of sand and cried. Slow clap for Nick’s awesome date?

“I think the idea of having a nice relaxing date might have backfired,” Nick concluded, while peeing in the ocean.

Later, Nick doled out glasses of alcohol and apologized for making everyone play volleyball and cry. During their alone time, each girl told Nick how freakin’ miserable they were and if they didn’t truly believe they had a shot at being the next Bachelorette, they’d have beat feet weeks ago.

Jasmine was a freakin’ ticking time bomb. She was happy to accept glasses of alcohol, but not the fact that Nick didn’t try to spend as much time as possible with her. She wanted to PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE because she liked him so much. She won’t shut up about WHAT SHE NEEDS. Nick needs to DO THINGS FOR HER! All the other girls were like, Ho, shut it. We’re all drunk and desperate too. You ain’t special!

Finally Nick pulled her aside for what he thought was some good old-fashioned getting to ho you. But umm, not really.

Jasmine: Why’d you bring me to St. Thomas? I’ve been to St. Thomas. Don’t you dare overlook me!

Nick: To be fair, I didn’t bring you to St. Thomas. ABC did, but…

Jasmine: I love you so much I want to choke your face off.

Nick: Umm…

Jasmine: I ain’t here for vacation! I’m so confused. Why won’t you talk to me?

Nick: Because you’re a bit of a ding a’ ling to be honest and I’m afraid you’re gonna choke my face off.

Jasmine: I like you a lot. I see a future with you. I really do.

Nick: Is that future in the waiting room of a psychotherapist’s office? Because I see that too.

Jasmine: OOOOOOH I JUST WANT TO CHOKE YOU SO BAD!

Nick: Ha ha hahahahhaha

Jasmine: Oh, not in a sexulal way! Don’t worry. In the murdery way!

Nick: Oh good! Hahahahahaha

Jasmine: I just want to throw your ass down and be like UGH!

Nick: Oh! Right! Ugh!

Jasmine: Like this. I want to put you in the chokey!

Nick: Oh it has a name! Cute!

Jasmine: Want me to? I’ll do it right now! Want me to? Huh? WHY ARE YOU OVERLOOKING ME!?

Nick: It’s been super fun but it’s time to say goodbye. Can I walk you out? Can security walk me, walking you out?

So I grab you by the jugular like this. And then I squeeeeeeeeeeeze until you turn blue and I can hear your little bird bones crust beneath my fingers. That's a "chokey!"
So I grab you by the jugular like this. And then I squeeeeeeeeeeeze until you turn blue and I can hear your little bird bones crust beneath my fingers. That’s a “chokey!”

Jasmine, having returned to her body from the murderous astral-plane she was visiting moments ago, appeared confused. Wait. Why was he letting her go? Chokey just a jokey!

“He didn’t give me a chance,” she reasoned. “I came here to fall in love with someone. Anyone. Mr. producer, are you single? IS ANYONE SINGLE!”

Nick felt like perhaps he was going in the wrong direction with these women and was beginning to lose confidence in the process. Oh, Nick, now you loose confidence? Not the first time you were dumped at the alter? Or the second? Or when the guy you were dumped for the first time took another girl from you in Paradise? You’re losing confidence now? One might say…oh, what’s the word…FINALLY!

But Nick somehow mustered enough energy to go on his two-on-one date. Like any good two-on-one, this date involved a remote location, a helicopter, and rented patio furniture.

We have this furniture for 6 hours so if you want to hang out after Nick dumps you, go right ahead.
We have this furniture for six hours so if you want to hang out here after Nick dumps you, feel free!

Nick spent two minutes talking to Whitney and three minutes talking to Danielle before deciding he needed to send Whitney home. Or rather, leave Whitney on the deserted beach while he and Danielle flew off in the chopper.

Whitney was perplexed. Instead of using words to find the reasoning, she used her eyes.

So what part of "I'm a pilates instructor" do you not like, numb nuts?
So what part of “I’m a pilates instructor” do you not like, numb nuts?

The date continued for Danielle and Nick who dined in a fort that was formerly a prison. Moved by all the mason jar votives in this fort-prison, Danielle admitted she could totally see herself falling in love with Nick. Nick pulled a Whitney and used a penetrating stare to communicate, “What the actual F are you talking about, girl?” Not awkward at all. Nope.

Nick: Yeah, so I’m not really into falling in love with anyone tonight. If I was going to do that I’d have chosen Whitney. Did you know she’s a pilates instructor. I mean… HELLO!

Really Nick felt bad because this was the second dumbass to say they were falling for him and he wasn’t feeling the same. WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON? Old Nick would have been dumped three times by now!

Nick was struck with a powerful realization that perhaps he’s the problem. Maybe he can’t reciprocate the same kind of love. Maybe he needs to be the dummy who is too available. Maybe, like Ben Higgins, he was unlovable! MY GOD. WAS HE BROKEN? 

Nah, he’s fine. Danielle was the problem so he sent her packing. Wait until Whitney sees her at the airport!

As Danielle pondered what the hell just happened, she thought, maybe he’s not perfect. But no. That would be weird. I guess she’ll never know.

When another producer came to fetch Danielle’s suitcase, the girls who remembered to take their laxatives, crapped a chardonnay brick. What the F was going on up in this virginal island? You expect this kind of wonky witchery in NOLA, but here?

No sooner had the wine sloshed out of their goblets and onto their cutoffs, did Nick barge in and start crying.

Ah, go home, Nick, you’re drunk!

He started blubbering about being honest and how he used to be so optimistic and now he’s afraid he’ll mess up every single one of these fake relationships.

“I want it to be real, I want it to be right, I just don’t know if I can keep doing this,” he said.

Seriously, dude, I’m kind of with you. If a superficial douche-bagel like you can’t fake it with a hot pilates instructor, you should probably hang up your Varvatos ties now. But that’s just me.

After Nick made that not-at-all cryptic speech he bolted, leaving the girls in tears and confusion, or for many of them, just another Tuesday night at home.

“HE’S GONE!” Raven shouted.

“OH NO!” The rest of the girls screamed.

TO BE CONTINUED! I yelled.

] Will Nick come back? Will he come to his senses? Does he have senses? Will he toss the remaining 6 girls and get 6 new ones? Is that allowed? And most importantly, will PV don her trusty Carmen Slutdiego trench coat and stilettos and finally consummate her non-relationship with Nick? And then will she bite his head off? I hope so!

Tune in next week!