Barbarossa's Blast

1/24-Prince Benjamin the Gullible.

2012-01-25T18:37:00.000-08:00

Welcome, my friends. This week Ben and the Mean Girl gang are off to Park City, Utah to frolic among the meadows and for Ben to get fleeced like a sheep by contestant, Courtney Robertson. More on that shortly. But more importantly, this is the week where Producer/dirtbag, Mike Fleiss, starts to plug the contestants into the nicely drilled holes of his Bachelor Template. We will see the contestant who gets jealous having to share the Bachelor with a bunch of other women and can't deal with "the process." We see the annual specter of one stupid contestant who commits broadcast suicide by trying to tattle on another contestant. But fortunately, we do get see a side of Utah I never knew existed: namely, a beautiful outdoorsy wilderness that looked like the Garden of Eden. It was just a shame they had to spoil it by making me watch the rest of the show. Anyway, let's rock it!

Park City

The show opens with Ben, navel gazing among the streams and meadows of Utah, insisting that he's dragging his harem here so he can see how they handle the outdoors and not because some producer-maggot told him to. We see Ben standing around in his California version of flannels and jeans, looking all ruggedly manly riding a horse quite inexpertly, and trying desperately to smack up some macho despite the Prince Valiant haircut. He's dressed in what is supposed to be some version of rugged, "manly chic"--which a REAL manly dude would call "Pussy Poseur". While Ben swears his sincerity to the process, the women land at te airport and head on in to this week's product placement gimme', The Canyons Resort. The women crash the gimme' and quick as a flash, Chris "Wingman" Harrison appears out of thin air to pimp The Canyons in return for the Presidential Suite he's undoubtedly crashing in the rest of the week, and to cue the babes up for the date lineup this week. There will be three dates--1 group date and 2, 1-on-1's. Racing for the door to go and hide all the smuggled stash The Canyons let him carry into prohibitionist Utah, Harrison tosses down a date card and imparts some fatherly advice: "Not everyone will get a date this week, so my advice to you is whatever time you get with Ben, make it count. Don't just sit around and talk about the weather…act mean or try and stool pigeon one of your competitors and stir up some shit, why don't ya?"

Utah Deep Freeze

As Harrison departs, Lindzi the Misspelled rises and reads the date card while Sweetie Pie Kacie B. starts her episode long mopefest about how much she wants every second with Ben. Lindzi calls out Chain Smokin' Rachel to go freeze up and barely escape getting eliminated. Whining, crying, and looking clingy, Kacie bawls as Rachel goes to sneak one more smoke and brush her teeth before Ben arrives. And how does Prince Valiant arrive? I'll give you a hint; it wasn't in an airboat. Ben helicopters in to helicopter the chain smokin' one away to a lake in the middle of Eden. Rachel, wearing a white tanktop with a trendy sweater shows off a great set of juggs as they settle in down by the waters egde and…(chirp chirp chirp…) crickets descend. The conversation is more forced than a tooth extraction. Voice overs let us know that Rachel is absolutely no good at opening up with California weirdos she barely knows. Boy I hope she isn't planning on trying to break into the entertainment field. Anyway, here's the bottom line: other than awesome scenery and the usual Stormhorse exhibition of crappy kissing, this date sucked. Ben and Rachel looked as compatible as me and my mother-in-law with Rachel, acting about as interesting as a can of paint. Most of the date was spent trying to tease us that she was about to get dumped. Meh. Who cares? He kept her cause she's pretty and has big juggs. Date over.

Back at the gimme', the group date card arrives and Dr. Emily, who's in for a rough night, reads out of the names of: Nurse Jamie; Casey S.; and to add some speaking and a little skank to the date, Boom-Boom Blakely; Lindzi the Misspelled; Samantha the Pageant Queen; Nicki the Narrator; Sweetie Pie Kacie B.; and Courtney the Sharktress. Ben wants to know if they want to wallow around in a stream wearing giant rubber garbage bags around their legs and let Harrison hire some local Indian to attach a rubber trout to Courtney's hook. The women all affirm that very desire. While Courtney acts as self-centered and awful as usual, Dr. Emily gleefully predicts that once Prince Valiant sees the Sharktress treat everyone as horribly as they all treated Shawntel Newton last week, that's she's history. Why do women never study the tapes of this show before they sign that slavery contract and agree to come on? Stool Pigeon Emily and the other girls head out.

Courtney's Rubber Trout

Ben comes riding up on a horse spraying "Man on Horse" pheromones all over the place and greets the women. I swear, Don Knotts could come riding up on a horse and women would tackle him to the ground. What is with women's reactions to men on horseback? He's the same metrosexual dork he was when he sloppy kissed you with his lip gloss on last week, ladies; calm your asses down! Boom-Boom Blakely nearly faints and tells us he looked like a "Knight in Shining Armor". All except for the armor, the knight, and shining parts, she's right. At least he's got the page boy hairdo down. Oh man, I hate that cliche. If a Knight in Shining Armor actually did come riding up to you out of the mists of the 12th century, you'd run the other way at top speed. What those fairy tales fail to mention is that a Medieval knight's most fearsome dragon-killing weapon was his breath. He'd have rotten teeth from the non-existent medieval dental care and smell like a bucket of unbathed, shining ass. You'd rather kiss his horse. Trust me. So much for your romantic fantasy now, eh? You're welcome! And don't even get me started on those Wild West cowpokes…

Anyway, Ben rides up and greets the women. Once they stop squealing and heavy breathing, he mounts them up on their own horseys and rides them off to a stream. Soon dressed in hip waders and equipped with some cheap-looking flyfishing equipment, Ben wanders around trying to teach them how to flyfish since I'm sure he's a practiced expert. The women unspool a ton of line and plop the flies down in the 24 inch-deep water and stand there. Ben offers helpful hints like "let if float; just let it float." and "use your wrist." Kacie B. whines that she needs to get closer to him so she flails away pathetically with her flycaster and he comes over to coach her up and…help her not at all. Ben then runs off to Courtney the Sharktress, who is also standing in the water doing nothing. They head further downstream where she stands there like a statue and the Indian Guide Harrison hired slithers out of the cattails and hooks a rubber trout to Courtney's line. The haul it in and Ben decides to kiss the slimy thing, proving he'll kiss anything, and then makes Courtney kiss it too; proving she'll do anything to be on TV.This was just a big excuse to showcase Kacie's clingyness, and mostly Courtney's awfulness. Ben tells her she has "natural ability." I'm sure she does Ben, but it's not flyfishing, dumbass. What pathetic groveling.

When night falls, Ben hauls them back to the 'gimme and for the first time we get to hear Casey S. speak so the viewers will know who she is when she stirs the shit between Courtney and Stool Pidgeon Emily. Ben informs her he's been in love "4 times". Casey scowls, "Do you fall in love easily?" Ha, ha; no wonder they won't let her talk. Quit asking pushy questions of Prince Valiant, Casey. That's the signal for Nicki the Narrator to get a move on so we can see her weekly effort to get a few seconds with Ben. They better show us something if she makes it much further, because for all her narrating, we've scarcely the two of them in the same area code. Nicki digs deep to establish a connection and since she doesn't have a dead relative to parley, she settles for a dead boss. Ben nods empathetically and manages to conjure a tale of a freshly dead friend to trump her. In lieu of anything else to do, they make out, and the producers send Samantha the Pageant Queen in to interrupt them and get herself dumped. Now, spoilers insist that Samantha had fallen in love with yet another one of Fleiss' producer-maggots and wanted to leave the week previously. If that's true, this was all staged; from Ben's hardassed reaction to her whining, to Samantha's hard-teared bawling. He bids her be off, and she cries so hard she nearly unhinges one of her enormous fake eyelashes in the process. Meh. She paraded around flashing her overbite everywhere and he walked her out so she could escape. This gives Courtney a chance to brag that she and Ben are basically making decisions together. Arrogant? Yeah, but when I have something to refute her, I'll let you know.

The left overs await back up in the gimme room as there is a knock on the door. Elyse, the fitness Nazi gets to speak so she can prophesy getting left in the suite again. Frankly, I was shocked. Not that she got stranded again, but that she spoke and sounded normal. The only thing I remember her saying the last four weeks was that "Who IS She!" screech. Chain Smokin' Rachel reads off the name of Jennifer the Red; Ben orders her to "pick our love song dot dot dot" Damn, did we have to go with the dot, dot, dot thing again? I just had a Bentley flashback and now I have to take a crap.

Back at the party, Ben takes Sweetie pie Kacie away for some private 1-on-1 time. In between crying and sitting on the couch together, Ben confesses he wanted to make out with her in the river and that sparks plenty of closed-mouth smooches and Kacie says she's ok now. That will last about a second. As Ben wonders if he and Kacie might end up together, Courtney the Sharktress lets us know it's time for action. In Private Interviews, she acts all competitve and ready to steal Ben no matter what. Once Ben picks her up for private time she loses the steel magnolia act and switches to her baby voice. Telling Ben she can't deal with the jealousy she confesses that Lindzi crowding in on their fishing time "spoiled what I was feeling for you." Ben looks like he actually did lose a friend now--his best one at that. Blind terror flashes across his face as Courtney whines that she has "lost sight of them a little bit." Ben looks ready to have a heart attack. He tries to head her off, but she just shrugs and plays him like a trumpet. He runs for the rose, as the producers play clips of Courtney--from who knows when-- smirking, laughing and "winning!" Well, we can retire Courtney the Sharktress. From now on she's Queen Courtney, until Ben gives me some reason to think he's not wrapped around her finger. The mystery is: why are the producers trying to get me to think that Courtney can't stand Ben and since when do they want the audience to think their Bachelor is a gullible fool who picks manipulative women with his dick? Prince Benjamin then gets up and races back and lays the rose at The queen's feet. Suck on that, Kacie B. Winning! Indeed. Charlie Sheen should slap her. I better shut up; she'll probably be dating him next week. Date over.

Code Red

Jennifer the Red finally gets let out of her cage as Ben comes to pick her up and Courtney lays the "friend card" down at her before she can even clear the door. Ben wants to see her adventurous side so he hauls her to a crater in the ground and gets her to dangle with him and fall into a pool inside the crater. Naturally, Jennifer is afraid of heights. There's something new. Anyway, they go rappelling and fall the last ten feet into some pretty water. Jennifer handles herself pretty well, so Ben kisses her. As night falls and rain does too, Ben takes her to a fire pit so they can get soaked. Jennifer speaks of a four and a half year relationship and how she walked away when he wouldn't marry her. Ben casts doubts since he's a slacking wine entrepreneur when she verifies she's an accountant and works 9 to 5. He tries to talk her out of wanting to date him. They run for it as the skies open up and then head over to a country music concert with Clay Walker while back at the house Courtney brags that she only hangs with guys. The hater club meets to dye Stoolie Emily's hair and Bi Monica (yes, she's still there) warns Emily to shut her cake hole about Courtney to Ben, while Boom-Boom does Emily's hair so she'll look good when she gets diarrhea of the mouth and then wimps out. Back at the concert, Ben pretty much tells Jennifer he was going to dump her when they headed out, but now, since he has several women left he likes less than her, she can stay. As long as she dances with him in front of Clay Walker so he can keep up the outdoorsy country guy vibe. Date over.

And You Thought Ben Had No Balls…

Time for some cocktail party cattiness from yesteryear…or at least, it might as well have been. It's time for someone to warn Prince Gullible that the woman he is wooing as his future queen is a total bitch. Haven't seen this in…a season. Anyway, Ben makes the rounds while Emily winds herself up tighter and tighter until she gets Ben alone and pops. Ben tries to get her to shut up, but she can't contain herself, and tries to rat Courtney out. Ben basically tells her to shut up or he's gonna' jettison her. Emily wanders away and gets even dumber; she blows her mouth off in front of Courtney's only apparent friend in the house, Casey S. (now we see why she was allowed to speak.) Casey argues with her and then runs straight to Courtney, who for once is justified in her threats, cursing, and confrontational rudeness. Emily, confronted by Courtney tries to lie her way out of it. Boy, for someone closing in on a P.H.D. from a prestigious university, this chick is as dumb as a brick. Now that's she's immolated herself, Courtney gives her another "winning! I got a rose and you don't!" as she flounces away and Emily bawls that she can't stand confrontation. Then why did you start one, dummy? Finally, Nicki stops narrating and gets some time alone with Ben and they stand in the snow on the balcony and catch flakes all over themselves. As Emily finishes her wimpy meltdown, Harrison enters right on cue tinging his champagne glass with his cheese knife.

Roses:
Ben wanders in and give them some canned BS and gets to it.
Already safe: Jennifer the Red, Chain Smokin' Rachel, and Queen Courtney.
1) Lindzi the Misspelled: Little to do this week.
2) Nurse Jamie: Good god; I like you and even I don't know who you are.
3) Nicki the Narrator: finally got a few seconds with Ben that we were allowed to see. What that means? Hell if I know.
4) Kacie B.--the "B" stands for deep in the Bachelor BUBBLE.
5) Elyse, the Fitness Nazi: Sorry sweetie; I'd change your nickname if I knew anything else about you besides you made Ben do pushups. Good luck living down that horrible screech.
6) Boom-Boom Blakely: now doing the other women's hair before cocktail parties? Michelle Money edit anyone?
7) Casey S.--rewarded for ratting out Emily to the queen.
Harrison wanders in smirking,"Ben; ladies; this is the last rose of the evening. I'm going to rip the seal off a 25 year-old bottle of single malt and go at it till dawn. When you're ready…"
8) Dr. Emily--boo. Rewarded for being a wimp, but she's like a gutshot deer now: she may run a ways, but she'll fall soon enough.

Dumped: Bi Monica. Bawls like crazy on the way out and looks more like the Joker than ever when she cries. Hopefully, she got Blakely's number.

Next week: Ben gets nekkid with the queen. See ya then!

1-16--Ben Loses His Balls

2012-01-17T15:46:00.000-08:00

Well, so much for Ben's balls. After this trainwreck of a night, we couldn't find this guys nads with a search party of Rangers and bloodhounds. Shame, especially for people like me who wanted 'ol Stormhorse for the role. Better luck next time, I guess. Future Bachelorette Emily Maynard is likely to have a bigger set than Mr. Flajnik, but I get ahead of myself. I've got to recap three decent dates, before I chronicle the emasculating trainwreck at the end, so let's get to it.

Sister Julia: Keeper of the Flajnik Gonads

Our evening begins with Ben wandering the hills and streets of San Francisco like he's looking for Michael Douglas and Karl Malden, but instead he meets up with his sis Julia (Who looks so much like Shawntel Newton it's scary. More on her later) and tells some lies about the women he's hauled to town with him. He and sister Julia have a sit-down as trolleys pass by and Ben shows total ignorance of his harem or just decides to BS his sister to death. He lauds the women he has in tow as being "…Independent, educated, self-sufficient…" he left out "catty, bitchy, self-involved" and "mean as rattlesnakes" but once again, I get ahead of myself. Julia, we learn, has managed to find a boyfriend without the help of Chris Harrison, and is clearly nobodies push over. Hey, maybe she got all the balls in the family by accident? Regardless, after assuring Julia just how much she is going to love his mean-assed sorority girls, we see said girls heading into San Francisco by limo so they can be penned up at the local Fairmont Resort.

As soon as the women inhabit the Fairmont, in strides Chris "Wingman" Harrison in his casual day attire to spell out the date list for the week, (one group date and 2-1 on 1's) before he slithers back across state to Burbank to finish auguring his soon-to-be-cancelled game show into the ground. With You Deserve It! cratering and the international travel about to begin, Harrison has kindly consented to show up and do his "job". Mighty big of him. He quickly reminds the long clawed felines that they had damn well better act like psychotics or they will find themselves trapped in their gilded cage and getting a bus ticket back to wherever they came from, pronto-like. Harrison plays guru, "..not everyone will get a date, so my advice to you is whenever you get time with Ben, rip the others girls' hair out and make a total ass of yourself..". The message clearly delivered, Harrison drops the first date card and we're off.

P.H.D. on a Highwire

Elyse, the physical fitness Nazi, gets up and reads out the name of Dr. Emily; and lets her know that since she told the show's "psychologist" that she has a paralyzing fear of heights, Ben and the producers have arranged some highwire stunt to have her pissing her pants. Ben greets her with a tepid hug in a San Francisco park and lets her know they are going to be climbing the Bay Bridge. Emily starts her pants pissing and off they go. Secured to the bridge with multiple safety loops, hard hats, a camera crew, and about 12 safety inspectors, they begin their ascent of the bridge. About halfway up a steep climb, Emily starts to freak out and the cameramen try and induce audience vertigo by swinging their mini-cams around like it's the fucking Blair Witch Project, and Emily freezes. Seeing the time for heroic action has come, Ben springs into Stormhorse mode and tries to solve her problem the way he tries to solve every problem: he kisses her. Buoyed by his hormones or the fumes from his cologne or whatever, Emily stabilizes and finishes the bridge climb so they can "overcome their fears" just like half the couples on every season do. I'm shocked Fleiss didn't make them bungee jump off the damn thing. Regardless, they take in the beautiful views and we're left to guess how in the hell they got down. As darkness falls, they go to dinner alongside the Bay Bridge. They sit and don't touch their food, and have a talk. Emily lets him know that Match.com thinks she should date her brother (maybe Ben needs to date his sister?) Anyway, Emily shows off her high I.Q. and he basically tells her she's too damn smart for him and he's actually looking for a causal hook up, or something similar.

Back at Resort, Casey. S and Nurse Jamie--both former mutes--get to speak as Jamie reads off the group date card. She calls out: Boom-Boom-Blakely; Pig Snout Jacklyn; Sweetie Pie Kacie B.; Erika the Dress Filler; Samantha the Pageant Queen; Herself; Bi Monica; Chain Smokin' Rachel; Nicki the Narrator; Elyse the Fitness Nazi; and Former Mute, Casey S. to cross something off our "Leap list"? Apparently Chain Smokin' Rachel knows what a leap list is and she explains so the rest of us will have some clue. It's apparently like a "Bucket List" but not as good. Whatever. Back at the Bridge, Emily gets the rose and Ben makes out with her as fireworks explode and the other girls correctly assume she got the flower.

Snow Blowin' in Haight Ashbury, in Bikinis Too.

Ben drives a caravan of babes to a side street they've closed off and filled with fake snow. The girls boot up, dress down, and go snow skiing down the street. Several nearly kill themselves. Sweetie Pie Kacie B. falls a bunch and asks "How do you stop?" A second later she crashes into a wall, making her query rhetorical. Then for her Grand Finale, she spins around backwards, grabs ground like she's at the proctologist and slams into a wall assfirst, but manages to finish with a scarf-toss flourish that earns her extra points. Other girls sloop around and fall and basically look hot enough to melt the snow while thousands of onlookers snap pictures and upload them to their Twitter accounts so we can all enjoy early spoilage during filming.

Back at the Resort, Lindzi the Misspelled and the other leftovers whine about getting a date. All but Granny Panty Brittney, that is. When the date card arrives, Dr. Emily reads off Brittney's name and hands her a garish key-to-the-city necklace to go with it. Brittney stares at the necklace and looks like she drunk something foul. She then makes it plain she would rather skip the date…hell with that, she'd rather skip Stormhorse all together. Betting money is that she was only called out for 1 on 1 dumpage, but she makes it pretty clear that she'd rather dump herself than let Ben do it.

We rejoin the ski date and find that darkness has fallen as Ben's taken the girls to someplace name Tonga, that he assures us is an "iconic landmark". It has indoor rain pools and does indeed look cool. Ben then predicts, "No drama", and we all laugh collectively, and I can again hear the strains of My Sharona! as Ben is again wearing a black vest. Boy am I sick of hearing what a fashion plate this guy is. Listen folks; just check the cover of Get The Knack!, circa 1977, and you'll see he's merely stolen Doug Fieger's wardrobe and haircut. Fashion plate, my ass. It's like some long-haired, fat guy growing a beard and wearing a tie dye like Jerry Garcia being told he's a trendsetter. Anyway, Ben moves quick and steals a few moments (and kisses) with Chain Smokin' Rachel. Speaking of 1977, just how much does this chick look like Olivia Newton-John? Spooky. He then takes Sweetie Pie Kacie B. for a walk so he can make out with her too. Boom-Boom Blakely is up next, and after her unpopularity explosion last week, she is a mere afterthought. Elyse, the Fitness Nazi is up next to play her role as the one who can't say three words to Ben without someone breaking in. This particular someone is Granny Panty Brittney, who arrives to break up Ben's no-drama party by injecting some drama; namely, that she's hitting the bricks and will catch the rest of this pukefest at home with her Granny Sheryl. Fuming that she dumped him before he could dump her, Ben walks her out and then sulks that she cocked blocked him from treating her like cannon fodder. He heads back to the party and acts like getting dumped doesn't bother him, then hands the rose to Rachel. Then we see a call coming in for Harrison from a "Mystery Woman" who is only a mystery if you don't watch the promos for this show or read anything on the internet, where the woman warns Harrison she is on her way to San Fran.

Brittney's Non-Cannon Fodder Replacement

Ben then whines a little more that Brittney got away before he could dump her while using an electric razor to maintain his two days worth of chin growth. Turns out he's preparing for his replacement date with Lindzi the Misspelled. Chain Smokin' Rachel reads Lindzi's name and she departs to dress. We instantly cut to them walking through the city and riding trolley cars and the date is already underway--they need to spare extra time for that trainwreck cocktail party. Ben sets them up with some ice cream before he takes her into Chinatown and they tour the city. The trolley then stops at a locked and darkened San Francisco City Hall, where Ben whips out the key and Lindzi shows us how dense tomboys can be by gushing, "…but Ben pulls out the key and unlocks the door. I don't know who this guy is, but he's amazing!" Yeah, Ben is in tight with the mayor, Lindzi. Anyway, they wander in and out pops some dude named Matt Nathansen, lip syncing his white ass off. Ben dances with her (badly!) and kisses her (even worsely. Yeah, its word cause I say so.) as Nathanson lip mimes some easy whiteboy funk. Ha! He's no Stormhorse, I'll say that. Next Ben takes to her to one of the better places I've ever seen a Bachelor date. It's a San Francisco replica of a prohibition-era speakeasy called Bourbon and Branch, but the gal at the door appears in on the joke:
Door Gal: "Password, please?"
Ben: "Stormhorse, of course."
Yeah, she was in on joke. Anyway, Ben leads the misspelled one inside and through a trick bookcase to a semi-private lounge that does indeed ooze history. Cool. I wouldn't mind going to this place myself. Awesome spot. They sit for dinner and she gets to drop her story of being dumped via text. She relates the purported language of the text: "Babe, welcome to Dumpsville…population, YOU." Real or just made up by the producers, Ben tries not to laugh in her face and makes a note of that one for future use. He preaches that getting dumped makes him a better person and Lindzi heartily agrees with a croak of her frog voice and then he slips her the rose. They cap the date off by crashing another music store with him trying to teach her some piano (and failing). He then plays a few chords as a segue to this years theme song, "This Years Love". They dance. Date over. And we again see the "Mystery Woman" calling Harrison announcing her impending arrival. Harrison giddily announces he will meet her downstairs.

Cocktail Party Trainwreck

The woman flow into the Fairmont Ballroom and Courtney the Sharktress, of all people, leads a toast to a "drama-free night." Turns out she was right: the drama was free of charge. Ben wanders around with a jacket and tie added to his Knack-vest and corners Jennifer the Red. Jennifer, with her red hair flowing is wearing a pink top and orange skirt? She looked like a walking traffic cone. But she exudes her kind charm and soon Stormhorse is complimenting her as the best kisser and dives in for more. Poor Jennifer then succumbs to the Bachelor Bubble in week 3 and announces she is falling in love. It was nice knowing you, Jennifer.

DUN-DUN-DUN

Finally, Shawntel "Munster" Newton, from Brad's season--the worst kept secret this season--gets out of her car and greets the Wingman. Harrison warns her to hustle in and "get his attention." Cue taken, Shawntel heads inside while Private Interviews of Courtney the Sharktress show her raging Narrator Nikki as "an idiot" and Boom-Boom Blakely as the kind of girl "Your boyfriend cheats on you with." Her wonderful edit continues and she is just getting started. After a weird moment between Lindzi and Courtney, Ben takes the model to a hidden location and all but declares he's smitten. She assures him she can handle everything because she's "got big shoulders." Well, there's no denying that anyway. Meanwhile, Shawntel fixes her make-up and heads into the party as (who else?) Elyse the Fitness Nazi, is speaking to Ben on the patio. Shawntel cruises past the other women; some know her, some don't; and heads straight for Ben. She interrupts them and Ben stares at her incredulous. "Holy shit!" He finally hugs her and shoos Elyse away, who glares daggers at Shawntel as every other woman in the ballroom crowd around the doorway to watch them talk. Shawntel tells him she's come because they have talked and she sensed a connection between them. She asks for no decision now but wants to stay until the Rose Ceremony

Elyse sits inside and showing a mouth that looks like it could be used to cut wood for beavers, shrieks: "Who is she!" in a tone like she's trying to supplant Linda Blair if they ever film another version of the Exorcist. Courtney's mouth--never her best feature in the best of moments--peels downward in a skeletor scowl like Joan Rivers' plastic surgeon got ahold of her. And Dr. Emily launches what will become the theme of the rest of the evening, "If she gets a rose, I'm outta here." Ben walks Shawntel back inside on his arm and introduces her to the group. Every eye in the place glares at her and all of them are filled with iced daggers. Sensing impending chaos, Ben, who should have stayed to maintain and enforce civility, lights outta' there like he had a lit bottlerocket stuck in his ass. The second he's gone, they descend on her like wolves. The attacks begin and Courtney finally stands up and stomps away to a nearby room accompanied by soon-to-be-enemy, Dr. Emily. Courtney reiterates Emily's threat; if Shawntel gets a rose she is refusing one. The women--that is every last one of them--by look, word, or private interview--all join in and put on the worst display of mean spirited immaturity in this show's history. The only ones who didn't embarrass themselves (and their parents) were the ones rendered mute by the edit: Jennifer the Red and Nurse Jamie. Even "good girls" Lindzi and Kacie joined in with death glares and Nicki the Narrator settled for vowing never to speak to Shawntel and bawling about it. The rest? They called Shawntel a bitch; ragged her profession; her looks; her character, and basically acted like since she didn't bother to ride in in the limo with them or spend 20 minutes with Ben the last three weeks--like most of them--that she is guilty of giving Crack to 8 year-olds. It was ridiculous, classless, and totally uncalled for. And it was all Ben's fault. Don't like that? Tough! He's the Bachelor! Can you for a moment imagine Brad Womack, for all his faults, putting up with that shit for a minute? A simple game of "You're a psycho; no, you're a psycho!" got women a Greyhound Bus ticket home on his seasons. Or Byron Velvick? He had two women return in his third week and HE decided who stayed and went. One of those returning women had a 5 year relationship with him too. Hell, DeAnna Pappas would have showed enough Sack to stay in the room and command order. There's no excuse for it. Ben abandoned her to the sharks. Suck move, Stormhorse.

Roses:
Already safe: Dr. Emily (Looked great; but mean as hell too); Lindzi the Mispelled (great and not as bad as others but far from awesome); Chain Smokin' Rachel (acted like a total bitch)
The Wingman finally appears with a cringing Ben in tow as the Palooka Stagehand lines the women up on their dais. Harrison signals and so it begins. Despite being absent and letting Shawntel get savaged, this is Ben's big moment. I edge forward on my seat and cross my fingers: Will Ben Show Some Sack and Bring This Herd to Order?
He reaches into the flower dish, spears a rose, and calls out:
1) Courtney the Sharktress: Courtney descends from her spot atop the woman pyramid and basically tells Ben she'll only accept the rose if Shawntel doesn't get one.
I wait like the women for his response but I cheer him on: "C'mon Ben!"
Ben…folds like a cheap card table. Oh, Son! I was so begging for his sister Julia to come stomping into the ballroom, hip check her brother out of the way, grab a flower and take charge:

"Listen up, you catty bitches! I'm the Bachelor! I pick who stays and who goes! Not you! This is MY journey to find a wife! Not your chance to decide who will be your middle school sorority sister these next few weeks! Behind me is a door; past that door is a few million tons of bricks, and attached to those bricks is a yellow taxi cab! If any of you aren't ok with that, I suggest you hit those fucking bricks right now!"

Had Ben done that, the next time he reached into that flower tray and looked up, he'd have been met by less pairs of eyes staring back at him, but those eyes would be filled with respect, and they would KNOW he means business.

But alas, Ben is no Julia. He hands Courtney the rose as she smirks and returns to her throne atop the pyramid and the season is OVER.
The vulture troupe, now certain they can roll this guy like a drunken sailor, descend for their flowers while Shawntel stands there humiliated:
2) Sweetie Pie Kacie B.: Still a sweetie but not as sweet after that.
3) Elyse the Fitness Nazi: I love her looks, but wow.
4) Nurse Jamie: Bless you, you sweet classy little thing.
5) Jennifer the Red: It was nice knowing you and I do MEAN that.
6) Mute Casey S.: Once again, being mute is golden on this show.
7) Boom-Boom-Blakely: edit rendered her tolerable.
8) Bi Monica: drunk as usual, but the edit spared her having to explain being an awful bitch…for this week anyway.
9) Nikki the Narrator: Melts down and acts catty too, but lacked the venom of others. Still looked about 12 though.
10) Samantha the Pageant Queen: Edit was kind.

Ben holds the last rose and starts his preamble before Erika the Dress Filler overcome with the emotion of calling Shawntel "fat" collapses on the stage. When we return, the palooka lines 'em up again as constant voice overs let us know they are all leaving if he gives Shawntel a rose. They prop Erika up as Kacie B. blames Shawntel for her fainting and the Wingman signals go. Ben bumbles, and stumbles, and refuses to hand out the rose to Shawntel like you know he wanted to. Weak, oh so weak. Even if he thought including her was unfair, even if he thought she was nut and couldn't wait to be rid of her; it was the principle after that set of performances. Knowing Ben, he'll think it was funny in his media interviews. Very weak.

Dumped:
Pig Snout Jacklyn--One of the night's biggest trash talkers runs out to the bathroom with Dr. Emily bawling and is never seen again.
Erika the Dress Filler--Ben walks her over to a duvet and leaves her stranded there like a boat anchor. Better than she deserved.
Shawntel Newton--Ben walks her out as Courtney shouts down at her "See ya!" Ben walks her into the hallway and tells her it didn't seem fair. In private interviews, Shawntel correctly says "If you're looking for someone to spend the rest of your life with, what's fairness got to do with it?" She accuses Ben of not "being man enough." Inarguable. One also gets the certain impression more passed between these two than a few flirty Tweets too. Hope you sell some books on dead people dear.
Ben Flajnik: Dumped by Granny Panty Brittney--who carries with her with glow of a Nobel Laureate for getting the hell out of there when the getting was good.

Next week: They head to Utah to continue the search the Ben's balls--I expect less than success.

See ya!

1/15--The F1's on Parade: A Captain Barbarossa Special

2012-01-15T12:47:00.000-08:00

Welcome my friends to a special walk down memory lane of the f1's of the past. This is not a "best of" by any means; I've certainly written funnier things than this. No, this is an effort to see just how much you can tell from a first date on the Bachelor, with the benefit of hindsight. I think you'll see the answer in most cases is quite a lot. This collection covers all the seasons of this franchise that I've covered the past few years with the exception of Brad Womack's first season, where he picked no one. Fear not, we get two two first dates with Jason Mesnick because he essentially had two f1's to make up the shortfall. This is a completely unedited collection of observations, wise-ass remarks, and other things I published at the time. I hope you enjoy.

Matt Grant/Shayne Lamas:

Winery and a Bimbo.

Grant now moves to pick up the Dalai Lamas for her pole dancing lessons, I mean winery date and he arrives in someone else's Maserati to do it. Shayne, dressed like she's a member of ABBA, piles in to the car and off they go. Grant does his best to act coy about his true feelings for her but the guy ain't foolin' this pirate. The girl is hot--Grant knows it--she knows--and that's that! He corners her and forces her to admit that her dad is Lorenzo Lamas. She tells him, "You won't know who he is." Turns out, Grant didn't. Fleiss should have hired Billy Crystal to come floating in with the white wig and the snowy ascot going, "Shayne, dahling! You look mahvelous! Absolutely mahvelous!" She talks about coming from multiple broken families and basically says she's not ready to get married yet. Grant says, "She's not just a beautiful actress. There's a lot more to her." Yeah, whatever. Under duress, she admits to being high-maintenance and then cops to having more shoes that Imelda Marcos. She's into,"cars, shoes, handbags, sunglasses, and watches." Grant thinks she's joking. Idiot...

…Shayne and Grant cuddle up at the winery and he slips her the rose. She treats him like he's Houdini because he stashed it behind a pillow. I can't figure out whether or not she's drunk again or just a moron. Don't suppose it matters anyway, she gives Grant a boner and that's all that does.

DeAnna Pappas/Jesse Csinsack:

Totally Baked

But before the dates, the wingman tells the boys that they will have to earn the one-on-date with Dee by competing in a songwriting contest. Huh? What the hell is this supposed to prove? The same thing as when the women on the Bachelor are expected to sing, twirl batons, and eat aluminum cans I suppose. Anyway the boys all spread out and try to write down their thoughts and compose their feelings. Jesse, the baked snowboarder, says he hates to write and hates to sing. This should be wondrous.

Several of the boys actually seem excited and decide to try their best. Robert, the chef and Brian, the football coach both actually work on their music and try to perform--Robert's actually pretty good. In all fairness, most of them did at least respectable. Performing can be hard and they all seemed to come off as decent...at least all of them but the baked snowboarder who busted out a rhyme that could have been written by a five year-old. But, he did it on his knees. I guess thats important...somehow...I think. What? What the hell does that have to do with anything? Nevermind. She picked the bakehead. Maybe she didn't understand the wingman's directions. Who cares.

DeAnna then takes 'ol bonghit to a theater where they smoke a bowl. No, I'm kidding...I think. She does take him to a theater and then tells him to perform his godawful warbling again like he's a trained seal. When he's done singing I'm the one who needs the bonghit. Auuugggh, my ears! Anyway, he performs like a toadie and covers her shapely ass in kisses so the rose is secured.

Jason Mesnick /Melissa Rycroft:

Blimp Date:

Back at the Harem Tent, a date card arrives and it says Melissa The Cheerleader will be going on the next one-on-one. Melissa meets Jason on the beach and in inserted private interviews Melissa cops to being nervous. "I dated the same guy from fifteen to twenty-two and I haven't had a date in three years." Huh? A Cowboy Cheerleader hasn't had a date in three years? Ok, well, stranger things have happened I suppose. Actually, no they haven't. What, was she marooned on an arctic weather station!? If she also told us her last boyfriend was a Sasquatch I wouldn't have been any more surprised. I'll assume she's not lying just for shits and giggles. Wow, Melissa the Wallflower; who woulda thunk it. Anyway, Jason feeds her some oysters and Melissa, who is an oyster virgin, does the one thing that can quicken any mans heart: She's funny. Not scripted, cue-card-reading funny either. More like no bullshit, off the cuff funny. She also opens up and tells Jason she really wants to be a first grade teacher. I can practically hear wedding bells on this one already. Jason then takes her up on a bluff and The Bandit strikes again. Cha-ching! That's two! He then hauls her up for a ride in the blimp and gives her the rose, which was as big a foregone conclusion as I've made it sound.

Jason Mesnick/Molly Mallaney(Mesnick) AKA:The Lone Wife:

Tenting Tonight

Jason hauls Molly the Bland to his own rented Malibu digs for a normal date, not the usual Bachelor fairytale crap. They eat burgers dressed in ratty cutoffs just like a real couple too. They also talk, just like a real couple, and they wax a bit more seriously than the usual date fare. Jason obviously sees a lot more in Molly than I do and while she confesses to feelings, she does it in a sane way and doesn't bother lying to us that she is "in love". It's a pretty cool date and the kind I'd like to see more of, frankly--no bullshit plane rides or fairy princess castles, no hammocks or hot tubs, and no one was drunk. As they talk, Le Bandito moves in for his first score of the night, Cha-Ching!, and then he hands her the flower and hauls her into a tent set up in his backyard for a sleepover. Producer/dickhead Fleiss even delivers dubbed sounds of quiet talk and slurping to make us believe they did the nasty too. Maybe they did, who knows? Just after dawn Jason drives her home with the rose and in a set of his clothes too. Shannon the Stalker, who patrolled the house waiting on Molly most of the night, and the other, saner girls who went to bed, greet Molly in the AM to find her dressed in Jason's clothes and complaining of not much sleep. The other girls all scatter uncomfortably while Shannon narrows her eyes at Molly and goes to polish her sniper rifle.

Jillian Harris /Ed Swiderski:

Your Five Minutes of Romance

Wingman Harrison announces the date line-up in the usual manner. Two 1-on-1 dates and one group orgy--er mouthrape contest--er group date filmed at a Cowboy set. The 1 0n 1 date (at least the first one) was about the only satisfying moment of the entire night. Jillian takes Ed--the guy I have been calling: A Brad Garrett look-a-like, (but who the Wench Queen in her terminal perfection, showed me actually looks like some dead dude on Grey's Anatomy named "Denny" ; so now he's Drop-Dead Ed)--to scale a skyscraper. First I thought they were going to climb it, then I thought they were going to hop off it on one of those ziplines. Damn, I was impressed there for a minute. Then I thought they were going to rappel down it. Wow. But then I saw they were going to be lowered over the side and slowly eased down to a pool deck by a crew using a block and tackle--and when I say slowly I mean S-L-O-W-L-Y. It was like bungee jumping in slow motion...out your front door. So much for being impressed. Anyway, Drop Dead said he was scared but didn't want to wimp out on front of Jill. He does launch a good one while hanging there in his block and tackle seat: "You better give me a rose!" Way to piss your drawers, Ed. Silly building stunt over. Then Jill takes him into a swimming pool and proceeds to ride all over his crotch while they smooch. So much for that mystery. The make, model, and caliber of the weapon Ed has hidden in his shorts is no longer a secret to our favorite Canadian.

Jill then takes him up to the roof of the Bonaventure Hotel and Ed proceeds to get several casting directors fired for looking and acting (Dare I say it!) sincere. Who the hell let this guy on the show!? Not once did I hear Ed profess his undying love; he didn't pull out his guitar and serenade her with a song from his up-coming CD nor did he promise to fly her to Uganda for dinner or build her a magic fairy-castle in the sky. Instead Ed talked earnestly about having trouble balancing his career and personal life and instead of sounding ready for his close-up, he acted and looked both uncomfortable with the cameras around and (gasp!) genuinely interested in Jillian. (Hell just froze!) When Jill asked him what he wanted to ask her, he cut straight to the chase and asked if he was going to get the rose because he was "really nervous." Jillian, obviously unaccustomed to sincerity in her suitors, spluttered and practically stapled the rose to his chest in a frenzy. (So much for making him sweat, Jill.) Ed, like any good Field General, sensed his move had unbalanced his opponent and moved in for a quick snog. Jillian ( in diametric opposition as to how she will behave later) grabbed his hands, slammed them around her waist and sucked his face off. (It's early, but we may have a player here, folks.) Hope you enjoyed that because that's about it. Sweetness just about over.

Jake Pavelka/Vienna Girardi:

Captain America Needs a Midol

The first 1 on 1 date either proves that Jake Pavelka will do anything--and I mean anything--the producers of this crapfest tell him to, or this guy needs to lay off the estrogen supplements. The date begins when the Cheeser rams the Sausage onto his moped and they go canoodle around 'his' house. A helicopter lands and he takes her on a flight into the middle of California nowhere where they land on a bridge over a ravine. During the flight Jake reveals to Vienna that he has a fear of heights--a perfectly understandable phobia for a flier. Once they land, it's obvious its time to go bungee jump. Before they crawl out onto the ledge of the bridge, Vienna lets us know she has a height phobia as well. It must be time for a 'leap of faith'. Wow, they haven't done that since...last season! ZZZZZ. They gear up and step out onto the ledge where Joke whines, cries and does everything but grow a vagina. Snort! While Jake melts down into a Full Mesnick of tears and menstrual cramps, the Sausage 'mans up' and basically holds his trembling hand through the whole jump. Now, you may say I'm being hard on the Jokester here; I mean, a lot of people have a fear of heights and I'm the first to admit that hopping head first off a perfectly stable bridge is not a natural act. But I'm also not a professional pilot either! If I were a passenger on any airline the Chessemachine worked at, I'd be sprinting out of that airport like terrorists were about to open fire. What confidence it must inspire in passengers to know that the pilot of the plane they are about to board is going to start bawling and piss his pants at the first sign of trouble. It's like hiring a lifeguard with a fear of water:inspiring. Their Leap of Faith now safely behind them, Joke changes his tampon and hauls the tanned one back to his chalet to slurp some vino from the biggest wine goblets I've ever seen.They crawl indoors where they stare and talk about not too much of nuthin'. Cheeser ladles out the Velveeta right away: "I've seen a more serious, nurturing side to Vienna today." Uh huh. They get into the pool where Vienna rides his rod and launches this Pearl of BS:"I'm on Cloud Jake right now!" Anyway, they complete the ol' Oklahoma tradeoff: she gives him a boner and he gives her a rose. Bully.

Ali Fedotowsky /Roberto Martinez:

A Marx Brother on a High Wire

Ali's first individual date this week is with that notorious Latin hottie, Groucho Roberto. Ali drives over to Nerd Nirvana to greet him, and Roberto, showing some extra macho with his plaid shirt and beer crammed into his fist twirls her about for the other ding dongs to see. The producers, trying to wrest the car keys from Ali's control-issue hands, send in the first helicopter of the season so they can bang on about her flying phobia again, and get the Frankfurter started on his jealous meltdown of how Ali is alone with someone other than his own self. They helicopter away, but she can't let go of the steering wheel issues as she squeals with fear and tries to backseat drive the chopper pilot, "Not so close to the power lines!" Fortunately, he misses them by about a quarter of a mile--like always--and manages to land safely like the other 3 and a half million helicopters around the country on that day. But it does give Roberto a chance to cuddle her--like 12 other guys will do this episode--as the chopper sets down on a building roof. Ali assures us she feels "safe" with the Funny One. The producers attempt to remedy this by having them go highwire walking to get their dinner. I was expecting them to be securely attached by cables or wires for their heart stopping walk; I was not expecting them to be nailed down with chains Superman couldn't break. They engage in some cheesy banter about falling for each other and Roberto--in a very manly fashion--leads her out on some high tension cables you could drive a Greyhound Bus over and only stops midway to smooch her and does it so wildly he proves they couldn't be knocked off those wires by a low flying 747. Oh, the drama. The Flying Wallenda act concluded, they actually sit and try and talk like regular people. What has been obvious since the second she saw the oldest Marx Brother is still obvious: She digs him. Ali informs him he's so handsome he's almost out of her league. Roberto peers sheepishly from behind his caterpillar eyebrows, but doesn't argue. He does lets her know he can speak five different languages and his brother plays the harp and only speaks with a horn. No, not really, but he should have. She then asks him to do something to her she heard from a rap video. Whoa! Pretty nasty for a first date. Oh, it was just to kiss her in Spanish. Roberto waggles his caterpillars at her, tells the waiter to stick her with the check, and mauls her. Rose? No doubt!

Brad Womack and M'ly Maynard:

The Angel Descends to Earth

The second 1-on-1 of the night goes to overwhelming fan favorite, Nascar Emily. During the end of the Action Movie Date, Emily had her name called for the last 1-on-1 date and proceeded to sit with a couple of the girls and fully tell her story of her dead fiance who died in a plane crash while she found out she was pregnant with his baby story. It's powerful stuff. The other women bawl, even Madison the famewhore vampire, who starts to develop a conscience about pimping herself on this show. Meghan the Nobody gets to do a private interview where she confirms Emily to be Mother Teresa. My, lets lay it on thick, shall we? Brad arrives and takes Emily to the airport in his Aston Martin. Emily (and us) stare at the plane while Brad, still clueless, asks if she is nervous. Great TV. They finally land and Brad loads her into his jaunting car and they drive to a vineyard. Where? I have no idea and I bet you don't either. This was one of the few Bachelor dates ever that had nothing to do with the location. Brad could have taken her to a racquetball court and fed her a cornbeef sandwich for all it mattered. This date was all about her story. They sit on a log in the vineyard near the jaunting car sipping wine and Brad opens with the preamble I thought he was gonna' use on Chantal: "I don't know a single thing about you." He then presses in with some personal questions and Emily starts batting them away like a hockey goalie. Her favorite technique is to say something bland and then turn it back around on him. "And what about you?" Unsurprisingly, Brad starts to looked nettled. As darkness falls he takes her into a bar for dinner. A barn? Nevermind it doesn't matter. Once inside someone has informed Emily that it's time to spill, and she does. Brad listens as she relates the tale and then stammers, "So he was killed in a plane crash?" She affirms and then adds the part about being pregnant with his baby. Brad stares at her like she hit him in the head with a brick. I'll let any reader decipher his body language from there, but his reaction is stunned, but appeared positive. Brad produces the flower in an instant and she accepts. Cue harp music. They make out. Could this be the gal? Certainly could be. Now, I'm gonna' say something that probably isn't going to be very popular (What's new?) But I'm sure the message boards have probably lost all perspective. Emily is hot, she seems damned nice, and overcame a terrible tragedy. She did not however pull five people from a burning building or win the Medal of Honor in Afghanistan saving half her platoon. There is tons to be admired about her, but what she really did was cope with tragedy that was forced upon her. Admirably so. The shame of this is that with lost perspective, if Brad dares choose anyone else, he's going to be vilified as a douche bag, and that's sad. There are many quality women left on this show, and they may or may not be a better match for him. Emily is no doubt terrific, but I suspect she doesn't have any trouble sleeping because she can't get her angel wings under the blankets. Just saying. Anyway, Brad gushes: "I can see Emily being the woman I spend the rest of my life with." Is it this easy? Maybe it is.

Ashley Hebert/ Jordan Paul Rosenbaum:

A Twofer--Since the 1st One was Barely Shown and My DVR Cut Out on Number 2: J.P the Skinhead Tries to Ride to the Rescue...

The dating must go on. A thoroughly shattered Ashley, who has cried herself into oblivion over the departed Bentley, awaits the scheduled JP, the Skinhead with all the enthusiasm of a corpse at her house. If anything fancy had been planned, the producers had enough sense to change it. J.P, equipped with a producer supplied bouquet, arrives at Ashley's rental where she greets him. Completely shot, Ashley finally asks for a slum around night and they change into pajamas and make out. Give JP credit, he did his best, but how much could anyone have done after this?

...And Your Only Romance for the Last 5 Weeks

While the boating action done, a date card has arrived and Lucas, the texas Cowboy reads off the name of J.P., the skinhead. With some closure on the Bentley mess finally delivered, this date should be critical. Now this was the part my DVR skipped when the satellite went out and I went online to day to watch this. I ca't remember a whole lot about where they went and what they did, but I remember the important part. I have given up trying to guess about the loony editing this show has spouted the past few seasons, but what I saw sure looked like a firm frontrunner staking his claim. The dinner part was the most instructive when Ashley finally told J.P. about her Bentley obsession. J.P takes it calmly and takes an optimistic stance, thanking Ashley for being honest and glad she has gotten closure. What's clear is to just what extent this guy digs her and damn if it didn't look mutual. J.P swears he's never felt a connection this strong in his entire life and Ashley exclaims that J.P. is the most handsome man in the entire world! Really? The Jewish skinhead from Long Island? Hey, different strokes and all that, but this was really sweet. No acting appeared to be in the effort either. These two looked like they forgot about the cameras and went goo-goo over each other. Roller Coaster UP! But I am unspoiled, so this could all be misdirection edit for all I know. But it looked cool anyway. Rose? Zero doubt. Date over.

And there you have it. Those were the f1 dates how I wrote them as broadcast. I thought it might be nice to have a retrospective to look at as Ben's season starts to wind down and Emily's season is soon to crank up. I hope you enjoyed.

1/9--Stormhorse in the Sonoma Valley

2012-01-10T18:36:00.000-08:00

Emily Maynard will be the new Bachelorette

Yeah, I was skeptical too, for a lot of reasons. The least of which was that Emily herself basically put the kibosh on the whole idea not a month ago. But things, it would seem, have changed. Several weeks ago internet sleuthers started to notice a curious trend: the Bachelorette was holding concentrated casting calls in the Deep South; namely the Carolinas, Tennessee and Georgia. That by itself was not that suspicious, even two of Ben's girls, Emily and Kacie B.,are both from the Carolinas and Tennessee, respectively. So I didn't just ignore people predicting Emily would be the Bachelorette, I dismissed them outright.

But last night a source I have corresponded with for over 5 years told me, and others, that Emily had indeed drunk from the cup of Mike Fleiss' Kool-Aid vat and agreed to take the role. This source does not always get Bachelor info but when they do its always been right. I'll give you an example: a full three weeks before Reality Steve recanted his pick for Brad's season, this source told me flat out that Steve was wrong and Emily and Brad were engaged, not Chantal and Brad. She went public with that info a week before Steve was forced to recant.

I've seen many people react to this news the last 24 hours and its been universally negative. True, Emily was made to look about as exciting as a bag of cement on Brad Womack's season as the Bachelor. If she were to appear on her own as she was depicted, this season would be billed as The Bachelorette: Virgin Mary Edition. But those who know better understand the way this show shoehorns people into the roles they have chosen for them and the result is that absolutely everyone comes off looking like a one-dimensional cartoon character: vixen, bitch, sweetie-pie, virgin, drunk. Emily, at least, got to be shoehorned as a living angel, instead of many others who get edited as drunks or soulless bitches. Regardless, she's ratings gold for Fleiss and ABC both, and they know it. So, come this summer, I'll bring the pork rinds and you bring the cheese grits. We'll hope Emily brings the beer and leaves Ricky Tick back at the Hendrick's Sugar Palace.

Sonoma, Ca.

Apparently Mike Fleiss failed to pay the rent on the Bachelor Mansion because this week we open with Harrison evicting the women at the Mansion door and heading them out to Ben's hometown of Sonoma, California. There we see Ben wandering around with Sonoma with his dog and showing off some teeny tiny legs. No, that's Ben, not the dog. He must be on the Brad Womack Upper Body Only workout plan. As Ben navel gazes his way around the streets of the town, he gets to play the small town boy card and tell us the women are coming there so they can understand what a major stud muffin he is, or something like that. He owns a wine label; did you know that ladies? I sure did. Not that he owns the vineyards or anything, but he owns the little paper label that goes on the bottles. Good enough.

The women are shuttled into the resort in what looked like 1940 Packards while Ben wonders what his dad would say to him if he knew he had 18 crazy-assed hotmesses coming to meet him. He'd high-five your ass like any dad would Ben; quit asking stupid questions and let's get this going. Since the Wingman is busy dodging the Malibu Sheriff for skiving off on the mansion rent, Ben handles the welcome wagon duty and drops the datecard down. We hear that Sweetie Pie Kacie B. is up first.

A Walk Down Sonoma Lane

Thus begins the producer's best efforts to get the audience to hate Courtney the Sharktress. Courtney sneers that she would like to see Kacie get dumped because she's "kinda annoying." Yeah; cute, decent, sincere; yeah she's a real whore, Courtney. Anyway, darkness falls and the women all lounge around the rental pool and Kacie says its really intimidating to get the 1 on 1 because, "You have to get the rose or you're going home." On the first date? C'mon Kacie, study the tapes. You wouldn't be going home if you shot Ben's dog. Regardless, Ben shows up in slacks and a coat, and Kacie sets the 1 on 1 date trend for the night by sporting shorts and cowboy boots. Ben drives her around Sonoma and then waltzes her about town. Just to prove his Renaissance Man chops, they crash a hotel and mime playing the piano. Not to be left out of the cultured, artsy fartsyness, Kacie grabs a baton some producer stashed in a local candy store and twirls it around proving she's the Tennessee equivalent of Donatello. Kacie marches him down the street like a drummajor and they head into an old theater to watch home movies. Ben gets to see her baton twirl as a tyke and she gets to see him cry watching movies of his departed dad. Pretty good stuff. They make out and then head to dinner where she gets the rose that was never in doubt. Date over.

The Gingerbread Whore in Kiddie Land

Meanwhile back at the rental, a date card has arrived and Pig Snout Jacklyn reads off the names of Granny Panty Brittney, Chain Smokin'Rachel, Jennifer the Red, Boom-Boom Blakely, Dr. Emily, Jenna, the Insane Blogger, Soccer Mom Shawn, Bi Monica, Samantha the Pageant Queen, Nurse Jamie, Narrator Nicki, and herself to come "Play with me." All right, Stormhorse; settle down. The women all act like they've been chosen to be the next contestant on The Price is Right, like always. Boom-Boom, winding herself up to be this episodes Guest Bitch, correctly scowls, "Girls are getting excited about going on a date…with the other girls basically." Hey you, Monica is on this date and I'm sure she's damned excited about going on a date with you, Blakely. Always ready to kick a person when they're down, spoilers have hit the net that Blakely used to "date" Greaseball Wes Hayden. Why am I not the least bit surprised. When are we gonna' stop kidding ourselves? Every woman who appears on this show should be required to wear a sign around her neck that says: "Wes Hayden Was Here or Soon Will Be!" Maybe that's why they skipped on the Mansion this season; a de-sanitizing crew is in there trying to get Hayden's DNA off every surface of the place. That'll take months.

Anyway, Ben meets 12 of the remaining harem in a Sonoma park and introduces them to the best playwrights he knows: ultra-precocious kids. Ugh. Turns out the kids, (not a producer-maggot) have written a fairytale and need the women to audition. Someone should have told Boom-Boom. She arrives in a skintight romper with her juggs spilling out everywhere. They ask her to dance around and she has to tug her romper up under her chin to keep from ruining some childhoods. The only thing missing was the stripper pole and some AC/DC blaring out the parks loudspeakers. The little girls weren't impressed but the little boys looked ready to give her an Oscar. Next, Narrator Nicki is asked to perform a sexy dance by one brat (These kids must have seen the pics of her dancing on the bar at the Dizzy Rooster.) but she demurs and makes like a watersprinkler or something. Jennifer the Red makes like a weasel and the rest are basically asked to make fools of themselves and they comply as Ben laughs at them, not with them.

They head to the community playhouse while back at the rental the produces continue to urge me to hate Courtney as she arrogantly informs Lindzi the Misspelled and Erika the Dress Filler that her connection with Ben is more real than theirs and she wishes Lindzi the worst. Courtney rubs it in and acknowledges the painful truth that Ben wants to jump her. This prompts Erika to stop filling her dress a moment and all but acknowledge that Courtney is miles hotter than she is.

Back at the playhouse, the girls are outfitted with their costumes. Blakely takes a moment to flash her girlfriend, Bi Monica, and Samantha cattily asks, "What do you get when you cross a Gingerbread man and a hooker? Blakely!" They make it to the playhouse in costume since Fleiss has dragged half of Sonoma there to watch them perform. Ben, helped on by his Prince Valiant haircut, hams it up as the Prince of Hookerville or whatever, and the women perform their kiddie stuff. Standing out were Jennifer as the weasel, Nicki as a donkey and Samantha did a nice turn by wearing Jacklyn's nose; Jenna performs as the Wizard of Scizophrenia and for some reason Dr. Emily is a hippy? Nah, no kid wrote this. There haven't been any of those around for centuries. Anyway, proving you can't take the Stormhorse out of the man, Ben suddenly shows up dressed like a sheep while Bi Monica makes like a dragon and blows a party favor at him, he yanks his costume off to reveal sheep shorts. The producers artfully avoided shots of pissed off parents yanking their children to the exits as Ben parades around nearly naked.

Ben then hauls the women to the local Fairmont for a bikini pool party and so Boom-Boom can ramp up the whore meter. Jennifer the Red steps out and is congratulated by the women for doing the best at the show and she is highlighted as sweet, sane, and sincere. This plays her off against Boom-Boom Blakely who plays her vavoom as forward and agressive. Nicki continues to narrate as Samantha starts to hate all over Blakely and heads off to the bathroom to sulk. Ben sits with Boom-Boom and calls her "super grounded". Huh? By what measure is that? Blakely flirts shamelessly and mumbles over her porcelain veneers looking like, well, a Hooters Girl.

Meanwhile, back at the rental, the next date card has arrived. Sweetie Pie Kacie reads the card from Ben asking a thoroughly bombed Courtney to come play "spin the bottle" with him. Courtney takes the card and asks Kacie, "How did that taste coming out of your mouth?" Ouch. Kacie deflates.

Back at the Fairmont, the women have dressed down to their bikinis so the kidnapped husbands who are DVR'ing the National Championship Game so their wives can watch this crap, don't snatch the remote away and change the channel. Nicki continues to narrate as Boom-Boom gets blasted and prepares to whore it up. But before she can, Jennifer the Red takes Ben aside and tries to get me to fall in love with her. Sweet, sane, and sincere-acting, Jennifer gets Ben alone in a private pool and Stormhorse jumps her. They make out and an ebullient Jennifer lets us know how happy she is. But the second Ben emerges, Blakely jumps him in the pool and they make out while Pig Snout Jaclyn and a crushed Jennifer spy on them. Jacklyn sides with Jennifer and announces, "Blakely is super fakely!" She rags Boom-Boom for acting like a ho to get the rose. As the evening comes to a close, Ben sits them down and offers up the rose to "Someone who owned the day and night" and he hands the flower to Blakely while the audience screams "No!" Jennifer cries in a P.I. Shit move, Stormhorse.

Ben's "Son" Joins Him and Courtney

Ben picks Courtney up and Sweetie Pie Kacie sends her off with a "You're not a nice person." Ben takes her out for a ride in the woods to walk his dog. Courtney is properly attired in the 1 on 1 date uniform of the evening: cowboy boots and shorts. Ben clucks like a rooster and the dog howls while Courtney pretends its cute. They sit by a stream and Ben is stunned she is available. The dog starts whining and Ben covers the wet mutt with a blanket and to genius Courtney, this means he's father material. Ok. Courtney tries to smarm him up by I lose the train of conversation staring at her horribly puffed out, botox upper lip. Ben finally brings me back to earth by launching the first of several "Is she too good to be trues?" Why are the producers trying to get me to doubt this woman so much? No idea, but they are showing everything to make her look like trash, and nothing to make her look even remotely endearing. Ben takes her for a tractor ride and they walk the rented vineyards and have dinner while Ben gushes and then drops a few more "too good to be trues," while they eat. They compare dating histories and she says, "I even dated an actor, but…it fizzled." Hear that Jesse Metcalf? Courtney says you can suck it. Suck it hard! What's totally obvious is just how stunningly besotted with her he is. What this means? No idea, but the rose was an automatic.

Cocktail Party Crap

Ben marches in dressed in his limo driver outfit, while Courtney says she has a rose, so she'll just sit back and let the others shoot themselves in the foot. She does and they do. Lindzi the Misspelled gets first time to remind us she is there. The women cheer Ben's skinny tie but I hear the strains of My Sharona. Skinny ties? Since when? Anyway, that's the cue for Boom-Boom to get super agressive again, despite already having a rose. The producers, knowing Samantha hates Blakely, send the latter in to steal Ben. This prompts the formation of anti Boom-Boom sisterhood, and a pile of other girls rag her to pieces. The producers play the Jaws theme as Blakely tries multiple thefts and the women get angrier. They finally start calling her names and she heads to the luggage room and pretends to cry so Ben will come find her and Jacklyn sends her off with, "I don't want her horseface in my pigface!" or something like that.

While Blakely fakes crying, its time for our moment of zen. Ben takes Jenna, the Insane Blogger outside and before they can even speak, Jenna is shown in P.I.'s winding up to start a quick meltdown. They speak for a few seconds and Jenna stammers nervously and still hasn't completed a sentence in the last two weeks before the producers shove her over the edge by sending Pig Snout Jacklyn out for the steal. Jenna heads out and wisely decides to get thunderously shitfaced, since we know how well she handles alcohol. The producers kick and shove until the waterworks start and then Jenna heads for a bedroom to lie in a bed and cry for the rest of the night. Ben hunts down the fake crier to see she's not really crying and fishes the mental remains of Jenna out of the bed so Harrison can dart over from the set of his cancelled gameshow with his champagne glass and cheeseknife tinging.

Dump 'Em Danno!

Already safe: Sweetie Pie Kacie, Courtney the Sharktress, and Boom-Boom Blakely

Ben hits them with a bunch of insincere BS and then gets to work.
Roses:
1) Jennifer the Red. 'Bout damn time!
2) Dr. Emily--mighty quiet this week.
3) Elyse-silence is golden
4) Pig Snout Jacklyn--ok.
5) Erika the Dress Filler
6) Chain Smokin' Rachel--very quiet week
7) Lindzi the Misspelled
8) Nicki the Narrator
9) Casey S.--Total silence is platinum!
10) Samantha the Pageant Queen
11) Bi Monica
12) Nurse Jamie--too sane for us to see much of her
13) Granny Panty Brittney--ho hum.

Dumped: Soccer Mom Shawn--departs with so much dignity she is not even shown; and Jenna, the Insane Blogger. Jenna wanders the grounds and melts down like a candle on top of a nuclear reactor. "Are you kidding me? Are you really kidding me? I can't believe this is happening! No!"
I can just imagine the producer standing there with a copy of her psychological profile saying, "Seriously! We just got an emergency phone call teling us your father died." What douche bags.

Next week: Ben goes to San Francisco and Granny Panty Brittney appears like she's gonna' head out on her own and Shawntel Newton comes back to get humiliated. See ya then.

1/2/2012--Enter Stormhorse

2012-01-03T19:35:00.001-08:00

The Evolution of a Man?

Greeting, matey's! It's time again for the seasonal fungus known as the Bachelor. This time, your Captain will be riding shotgun on the antics of "vino" Ben Flajnik, who got kneed in the teeth last season by Bachelorette, Ashley Hebert when he tried to propose to her, and threw a royal shift about it too; endearing him to millions...or at least to the producers of this crap.

But this season, my friends, ABC promos and the Mouth of Sauron himself, Chris "Wingman" Harrison, have been lauding Ben's journey as the evolution of a man, from insular party boy to all grown up and deeply sensitive Renaissance Man. Ok. So this is what they want us to keep our eyes on, eh? Gotcha and Check. I'm all over it. But is this the true story? Hmmm. Let's see what Ben has to say about that.

Yeah, pretty cool stuff. Our boy Stormhorse is out to relieve those nagging Cream Dreams with the help of "more females". But this was before, you see, before he had Evolved, or Envolved, whatever. Now he tills the soil, producing the vintage of the gods, seeking a sole woman to share a lifetime of winemaking with him...or not. The previews hold a clue and they say...Ben is a walking hormone. The previews have focused on Ben swimming naked and going wild. But is this true? Did Ben play the old Bachelor game of "hottest one wins" or did he embark on a journey to find true and lasting love while he navel gazes his way around his vineyard aching for the moment when he can head home to Mrs. Right? Ha! You ARE joking; this is the Bachelor and Stormhorse lives! Cool! Turning the pirate ship into the wind and coming alongside with cannons roaring, let's get to it.

A Renaissance Stormhorse

I was just settling into my seat with a glass of wine when out from game show cancellation hell pops the Wingman, sashaying across the spritzed down driveway dressed like a limo driver and shouting out his dramatic hyperbole.Harrison, ever the master of historical revisionism, happily informs us that getting down on a knee and being nationally humiliated has turned out to be just what the doctor ordered for Ben. As a matter of fact, he was so convincing I asked my wife to divorce me.

After I'd ducked the frying pan, I looked up to see a limo arrive and out pops Ben, looking so much like a Harrison clone I thought he was driving it instead of riding in the back. What was with the black suit-white oxford-black tie get up? They both looked like they were about to join Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones and go hunt some aliens. Fortunately, Ben is still sporting his Moe Howard haircut so I could tell them apart. But unfortunately for him, the haircut matched with that suit made him look like he was about to audition to be the new lead singer for The Knack instead of being the Bachelor.

Regardless, they have one of their staged, highly scripted powwows where Ben says all the right things and might mean half of them. They also offered a preview of the women, but we're about to get both barrels of these honeys, and a crazier, more drunken, sack of cats this show has never cast before. So without further ado, let's follow Ben out and see what we got.

*The Playas:

1) Nicki the Narrator: the only divorced woman in the cast. A dental hygienist from Texas,she came across as sexy and sane...drunk too, but I pick nits. If this one doesn't lose her mind, she goes far. Narrated most of the episode despite being hammered for much of it. Gotta' like a babe who can hold her schnapps.

2) Kacie: Sweetie Pie: Tennessee gal who was sweet, sane, and beautiful. Sober too. One of the only ones who wasn't plastered the entire night. This one will be a fan favorite.

3) Boom Boom Blakely: a former Hooters girl whose nasty pics are all over the net. Was more mannish-looking that I was expecting, but she was still damned attractive. I'm assuming Stormhorse agrees. One of the other gals did anyway. (more on that in a minute)

4) Jennifer the Red: the sole redhead in the cast with striking blue eyes. An accountant who hit Ben up with a numbers game at the intro, and was looking hot, sober, and sweet. Might be another fan favorite.

5) Chain Smokin' Rachel. Hottie with a family pedigree in Reality TV, but was sportin' a voice like she huffs Camels like candy. Got too involved with the silly drama blossoming all around her, but came off as sweet and helpful instead of rattlesnake mean, like many.

6) Dr. Emily: some cutesy blond who is on the cusp of being an Epidemiologist. Got a little slurry and was mean at times, but cute and obviously confused. What the hell is a P.H.D. doing on THIS show?

7) Lindzi the Misspelled: came riding in on a horse and netted the First Impression Rose. Older-looking than her age too. Not much my type, but she sure looked like she was Ben's; he spent a good portion of his evening drooling on her.

8) Courtney the Sharktress: Oh man, here comes trouble. Striking model who thinks she’s even prettier than she is, but not half as hot as 'ol Stormhorse seemed to think she was. Looked great as long as she is made up like a model girl,but without make-up? Eh. Also has that thin, waif-like look that fashion magazine editors love, but is bony and has a set of NFL linebacker shoulders. It made her look like a preying mantis with a giant head. But Ben looked ready to Cream Dream in his pantaloons at the sight of her. She's been everywhere in the previews and is consistently being portrayed as a self-involved bitch too. Definitely this seasons bad girl. She will go far on hotness alone, unless Ben really is a an evolved man and not a horny Stormhorse. Bets?

Anyway, that's my top group. The rest? Time will tell.

Once Ben gets the indoors, the insanity ramps up quickly, and the booze flows instantly. Before Ben can even get inside the Fleiss Diet is clearly working. Nothing like combining no food with hours of alcohol. Add to that with a little mental illness and you have the Bachelor.

Chain smokin' Rachel is up first and she orders Ben outside to tell him she lost her job by taking too many smoke breaks or something. Narrator Nicki hits him up next with some of her Texas charm but she passes on the divorce news...then goes and gets tanked.Lindzi the Misspelled gets her crack and it's soon apparent she and Rachel are going to be hanging out around the pool with some Chesterfields. Wow, rough voice number 2. But she does share a few decent moments with Ben regardless.

Now it's time for some absurdity. Turns out one of the girls was too terrified to talk to Ben on her own and brought along her granny, Sheryl, to do her talking for her. Granny Panty Brittney skulks in the corner while grandma attempts to hook her up with Ben. He clearly liked grandma Sheryl, but Brittney? Eh, not feeling it. But it gives Brittney a chance to whine how much she wants the First Impression Rose.

Right on cue, like Jeeves the Pimp, here comes Harrison with the first rose on a silver platter. The Wingman drops the flower on the table and Ben cringes in the corner. It was liking firing a starter pistol at the insane asylum. Soon the room is alight with Stupid Human Tricks; dumb hats, cocktail dress soccer, and needless push-up performances abound. One also ran crams candies into his mouth. This was supposed to prove something? Even worse, ultra white girl, Dr. Emily decides to show just how Gangsta' her white ass is by rapping about diseases or something. Damn, go back to the soccer match.

Just as I'm dreaming of hitting the mute button, here comes Courtney the Sharktress, burying her arrogant and abrasive attitude a moment to charm Ben. "I'm just nice, normal..." uh-huh.He drools into his own lap while they talk and it's pretty obvious some wine guy is gonna have some major Cream Dreams this night. But before the Creamer can yank his crank, it's time to go nuts.

Jenna, the Insane Blogger, who's been desperately trying to hold herself together since the moment we first saw her, starts to come apart at the seams. She gets hammered and decides to take on Bi Monica in a "You're here for the wrong reasons" contest. Monica, who is bombed and mean as a barracuda, quickly realizes she has a psycho on her hands and goes out of her way to torment Jenna a little. It doesn't take much as Jenna spirals downward and stays that way for the rest of the night. She cries, slurs, and the thin layer of glue that's been holding her together melts completely. The next 45 minutes of the show consists of Chain Smokin' Rachel chasing Jenna around trying to keep her from blowing up. Monica, who had told Jenna to go drop dead, is finally conned by Rachel to have a peace making session with El nutso. Jenna, trembling and holding on to her facade of sanity finally makes her way into the psycho top 10 by launching this winner: "Maybe we could share a tampon?" WTF?

Monica taps into Jenna's insane karma and decides to get trashed and try to pick up Boom Boom Blakely. This chick is from Utah? Wow, I'm starting to think that Fleiss is on a personal crusade against this state. Monica, acting like the only openly bi-sexual woman in Salt Lake City, practically makes out with Boom Boom on the sofa. Suffice it to say, the Hooters girl didn't exactly run away in terror either. They wrestle around on the couch as kidnapped husbands all over America stand and applaud Mike Fleiss for finally showing something they want to see.

The camera loses focus on Jenna just long enough for us to see Nurse Jamie, looking and acting nice. This gal had a sad story of parental abandonment and raising her younger siblings while still getting a nursing degree. What a damn shame we couldn't focus on her or single mom Shawn a while instead. Losing both sobriety and sanity, Jenna heads into the bathroom to have a long, sobbing cryfest with what I'm forced to assume was a commode. Hey, I know! Maybe that Masked dude from last season was still skulking around the mansion crappers and was in there listening to her. If he was, we can stop worrying about him ever bothering us again. He would have drowned himself in the toilet after listening to that. Good work Fleiss; did you find this gal on a nut farm? Nauseating.

Ben finally ambles in and gets the rose while the editors try and make it look like he's going to interrupt Jenna and the Mask in the toilet to give it to her. But he speeds on past the bathroom to give the flower to Lindzi the Misspelled. The second he festoons her, in comes with the Wingman with his champagne glass and cheese knife and clears the room like Godzilla farted in there.

Dump 'Em Danno!

Once Harrison lines em up and Ben goes into his wine cellar to deliberate, we come back to see them all lined up waiting for Jenna to finish off the Mask and join the party.

Dumped:

1) Holly and her dumb hat

2) Amber T. and her tiger dress

3) Amber Bacon and her dumb name

4) Lyndsie and her dumb everything

5) Shira the ancient skeletor

6) Anna the silent Snowball.

Ok, one down. Next week it's off to Sonoma so Bens family can look down on all the women.

See ya then

Offseason wrap-up: Ben Gets Nekkid, Roberto Gets Some Sense, and In Defense of Reality Steve

2011-12-11T08:48:00.001-08:00

This is a test post to try out some new equipment I have for the blog and to give a special thanks to deedreamer over at Bach forum (Fort 2) for the awesome job she did on the new masthead.You rock, sugar! That said, we are but a few short weeks away from the start of the next season of the Bachelor and already the internet is alive with spoilers and potential spoilers for this season.

One thing that is undeniable is that filming has indeed finished and some outcome is at hand. Rumors circulate at a Final Rose Ceremony held in a cold climate, with results as yet unknown. One thing you can rest assured of while you stuff your gullets with holiday fare is that your ship captain will be back at the con of his dread pirate ship again this season, taking whacks and chops at "vino" Ben Flajnik and whatever herd of desperate famewhores the Fleissmonster has recruited for him this season. But this year, there will be a twist.

You see, for the first time in well, EVER, I got the Bachelor I really wanted for the gig, and like the good Samaritan I am (well, mostly) I'll take the responsibility one should and be extra hard on the guy I helped choose. Seems only fair. As much as I've bitched in the past about these jokers, it's my turn (and Ben's) to pay my dues. And I see the shitstorm has already started. The first few promos have been released and “Bachelor 16:The Quest to Peddle Vino”, is rapidly evolving into “Bachelor 16, The Legend of Ben's Ass”, after a promo shows Ben and one shapely ’ette going for a skinny dip in the ocean complete with full backside nudity,and then getting mighty close while in the water. The online moral cops are already blasting him for being a horndog and frat boy. (It doesn't help matters that the ’ette in question is being portrayed as a wicked bitch either) Hard to argue with them too; the only way he and the bitch-ette avoided actually having sex in that scene was for the bitch to ignore Ben's vine stem, which was undoubtedly hard as a brick and inches from her goodies trying to impale her. Chris “wingman” Harrison hopped out from wherever he lurks to fill us in on the story arc they have planned too: Ben was not serious at start of the process but became the most sincere Bachelor EVER! (translation: Ben got drunk and screwed as many as he could before waking up and picking one, and now having to explain to his new "fiancé" why he was drunk and screwing a girl she probably hates on national TV) So, Ben is on his way to sleazing things up while selling some wine and obviously getting laid in the process. No wonder I liked this guy. One forum poster where I hang out sometimes referred to this season as “delicious trash.” Props Alainna, you have just described what is heading our way more succinctly and accurately than I could have. Bravo!

Oh, since this is merely a blog test, I wasn't going to share any thoughts, but since the breaking news this offseason was the break up of Ali Fedotowsky and Groucho Roberto Martinez, I suppose I should comment. Also a lawsuit has landed on a fellow blogger like a falling satellite,so I'll opine:

Ali and Roberto:

I am positively stunned they lasted this long. Don't get me wrong, I never rooted against them in the least. I just can't believe they stuck it out as long as they did. Yeah, I know; that's not gonna be popular. Too bad. In all the seasons I've watched this crap, they were the most mismatched pair I've ever seen (excepting the obvious travesties: Jake/Vienna; Grant/Lamas) I mean among the couples who were truly sincere and tried to make a go of it. No use putting your head in the sand about it, Ali was a 100 mph career girl and Roberto was from a deeply traditional and conservative family background. She seems to adore the red carpet and he seems like he wants a normal life. Just not compatible.

Here's what I wrote on the hometown visit that season:

Roberto's family comes as no surprise; a strong, traditional family with traditional values. Ali is met by Pops Martinez Sr., his hot-milf wife, Roberto's beefcake brother and his hottie wife, and Roberto's hottie sister. They sit down to a meal and Roberto's brother wants to know why Roberto was given the First Impression Rose. Ali insists it was because of a "feeling", which sounds more appropriate than admitting that Roberto gave her fire-crotch. Dinner finished, Pops Martinez move in quick. After a quick tour of Roberto's baseball trophies, he pins Ali with some direct questions. He asks Ali about her personal goals and she answers honestly about her career drive. Pops, being a 30 year-veteran of the marriage game, lauds his boy and tries to make a judgment between Ali's career goals and Roberto's. "He has big goals. His job might take him different places. If you had to sacrifice some of your personal goals for him, for his career...how do you feel about that?" Ali stammers like a tobacco executive in front of a congressional committee. "I want to make Roberto happy and I can't do that if I'm not happy, so I need something to fulfill me too." She goes on like a politician but at least she's honest, if circuitous in her answer. From the accent, it sounds like English is not Pops' first language but he seems to have no trouble deciphering that answer. He raises an eyebrow at her and heard the translation of all of that blithering as clearly as I did: "I'll be sacrificing my career goals for any man on the 5th of NEVER!" It's a fair question and a fair answer--its also about as compatible as Pauly Shore and Angelina Jolie. Rumors are circulating that this might be the guy. I sure as hell hope not. I'd rather no engagement than a short, miserable one. Roberto and Pops have a sit down and Pops gives his hesitant blessing. The man is no fool. This hasn't got a chance in hell. Pops and his milf-wife do some sexy dancing but...date-might-as-well-be-over. Ali shown to opine: "This is real...and I'm almost getting cold feet." Ya think?

Evidence of this theory wasn't long in coming either: not two days after having their publicist begging for privacy during these “tough times” Ali sold the story of their break-up to People Magazine. Roberto? He hasn't said a damn thing and probably won't. Back in Tampa, you could practically hear his dad nod his head and say “back to work, son. It will go away soon enough.” Ali is headed for any news outlet that will feature her, Roberto is headed back to work to sell more insurance policies. Not compatible. Longer I live, the more I realize that compatibility is the most important attribute a couple needs. They need a lot else, but If you don't have that, you're doomed from the get go. Most sober people agreed that Roberto was a mile out of her league anyway, and the inevitable chorus has started to promote Roberto as the next Bachelor. I don't think he'd ever consent, but he would be a popular choice.

Reality Steve:

Ok, this was a bit of a shocker. Bachelor executive producer/cockroach, Mike Fleiss, has ordered his lawyers to go after spoiler-king, Reality Steve Carbone. Fleiss is alleging that Steve has been sending emails to at least one contestant urging them to break their unconscionable confidentiality (indentured servitude) contract and offering them money to do so. Before I begin this, allow me to insert a caveat: for all his spoiler info I gleefully await (like many others), I think Steve is a total asshole. He is rude, arrogant, mean, and dismissive to his own readers and anyone who watches this show. He is Fleiss' opposite number in every imaginable way; two cretins who deserve each other and go together like “stink” and “shit”.

Caveat delivered, I find myself in the uncomfortable position of having to rise in defense of the defendant at the Bar: Reality Steve.

Not a popular stand I'm sure, but one I'm forced to adopt anyway. Fleiss' allegation in this suit is that Steve has “harmed” his show by spoiling it is absurd on its face. Leaving aside Steve's odious personality and questionable methods of information gathering, the motivation behind this move is as transparent as cellophane; an attempt to bleed Steve out of money defending himself and to frighten Steve's sources. Fleiss, who continually Tweets in support of the Occupy Wall Street movement, (the “brothers and sisters”; “down with the MAN”) is being an iron-fisted hypocrite of the worst sort. A multi-millionaire “Wall Street” Sympathizer who is using the equivalent of mafia-style intimidation tactics against a blogger who's been a pain in his ass. The suit is frivolous beyond any credulity. I'm no lawyer (and don't want to be one) but proving “harm” when the exact opposite is true, is impossible. Legal blather aside, there have been two Bachelors in the the last 5 years of this shows run: pre-Steve and post-Steve. Steve started spoiling during the Jason Mesnick, Melissa Rycroft, Molly Mesnick (née Mallany) fiasco. The ratings before that carwreck had sunk so low that the show was in danger of cancellation. Since the spoilers, and all the tabloid coverage Steve and his spoilers have engendered, the show has had a ratings re-birth. A first year law student, armed with a ratings chart and a count of tabloid covers pre and post Steve, could eat Fleiss' suit alive, in the unlikely event a judge even allowed it to proceed. It's a joke;something worthy of Vladimir Putin or Hafez Al-Assad. It's the legal equivalent of a visit from two mafia goons, intent on breaking Steve's legs. It's sucks. Just like its plaintiff.

Steve's personality aside, I cannot support this kind of legal silencing. I know many online are cheering his downfall, and I certainly understand why; Steve is a jerk of the worst sort, but cottoning these types of attacks in a free society, I cannot do. Steve may be a roach, he may urge people to break an agreement they freely signed, but trying to hush people through intimidation merely makes Fleiss look as mean and petty as he is. Unbelievably, that luminary of class, Jesse Csinsack (the "stoned snowboarder" from DeAnna's fiasco) insists he was offered 30 Grand by Fleiss to find Steve's sources. His comments on what a gut of bile Fleiss is notwithstanding, it's also obvious Csinsack tried to collect. He rails against Fleiss “the iron fist of Hollywood” and the slave contract he makes people sign to be on TV, while making it clear he practically broke his neck trying to collect the cash. Rub-a-dub-dub, three turds in a tub. But Fleiss wins as the biggest floater. Gross.

Ok folks, that all for the off season wrap up. Allow me a moment to plug a fellow snark blogger and a damned funny one. On the left side of this page you will see a link to "Some Guy in Austin", a blogger from the great state of Texas. His site is called "Think It!". You can find it in the link lit on the let. After writing my blog I always head his way to get a few extra chuckles. Unlike some bloggers I could mention, I make no money from this absurd endeavor, and don't mind promoting a competitor who deserves it. Funny is funny, and this guy is. Check him out! Ok, until they spritz down the driveway, pull the wingman away from his soon-to-be-cancelled gameshow, and dress Ben up like a limo driver to greet his famewhores, enjoy the holidays and I'll see you when we are all desperately in need of a diet.

Arghhhhh!

8/30--Sadly, the Captain Must Withdraw

2011-08-30T13:24:00.000-07:00

Friends,

I started last weeks blog four straight nights and could still never finish. I am afraid, with much regret, that I will be forced to withdraw from covering this travesty. No, it's not because this show is Jersey Shore with better looking people either. No, it's that late summer and early fall are my busiest times of the year and well, if any of you have teenagers and college-aged kids, I don't even have to tell you. There just aren't enough hours in the day.

Regardless, come the launch of Bachelor 16: The Trials of Ben Flajnik, your Captain will be back on the fore deck guiding a new round of attacks and no silly little distractions like Real Life will get in the way of that. So, enjoy what remains of this awful, craptacular car wreck, and I'll see you all later in the fall.

Captain B.

8/15--Bachelor Pad, Episode 2: The Modern Power Couple

2011-08-17T17:27:00.000-07:00

The Godfather? "Don" Mushmouth Bologna

So, if Machiavelli wrote the Prince in 2011, he would use Kasey Mushmouth Kahl as his protagonist? Since when did some mumbling half-wit and his thunderously unpleasant girlfriend become the icons of tasteless power brokers? And their tacky kingdom is being threatened by the cheesy court jester who bounced around begging like a spineless sissy only to be saved a date with the wingman/ hangman by the intercession of the all-powerful Fleiss-god, who was determined to save the jester another week just to see if he can make me vomit? In between the Fleiss-god staged performances with his desperate famewhores that featured scary ghost-like stuff at a deserted hospital, where his famers reacted with terror at the danger of tripping on the forty-five members of the camera and production teams surrounding them and breaking their necks; by hooking up with unstable skanks to try and further their quest for cash; and pelting the opposite sex with metaphorical "money shots" of eggs in response to the most embarrassing and degrading questions imaginable. Does anyone else remember when half the activist groups in this country had a coronary that Bart Simpson was on TV? Jesus! I opened an old history book and pointed it at my TV screen when Kasey and Vienna Sausage started mocking the foul cheesemachine and the picture of Nero inside the book starting puking. I think we've finally hit rock bottom.

In The Court of King Mumbles and Queen Harlot

The Ultimate Woman! (Cough)

This must be the Land of Stupid I've wandered into. If Adam Sandler showed up in this realm, he'd be made the Court Astronomer. Regardless, before the dreaded minion of the Fleiss-god, Wingman Harrison, can even gather the famewhores up for their first round of humiliation, King Mumbles lets everyone know that he is in charge, and Cheesemachine Pavelka lets us know the king desires to lop his cheddar-head off. But have no fear, Pavelka will soon show us that he's willing to do anything to stay on TV for five more minutes, even beg the poisonous Queen of Harlotry to save his cheesy skin. A full twenty minutes of broadcast time concentrates on this vile threesome before the show can even get started. These three suck harder than a collapsing Star.

One Pavelka Omelet, Coming Up!

Harrison leads the bikini-clad babes and boxer-wearing beefcakes out into the Mansion Garden for a "game". Its the kind of game you would have played on the seventh grade playground if the local bully was in charge of recess instead of the teacher. But on Bachelor Pad, the bullies are in charge. The wingman lets them know its going to be Boys versus Girls, where he will ask everybody a string of insulting, demeaning questions, and you're supposed to choose the person who answers the question best and then you score points by pelting them with a paint-filled egg. Nah, there's nothing sadistic about that. Once Harrison got going with these unbelievably cruel questions, I was actually shocked he didn't announce a rule change and tell them to skip the egg and just piss on whomever they choose. Anyway, the boys line up first in their white gym shorts, get blindfolded and have targets painted on their backs. Lining up, they turn with their backs to the house and the girls are brought out one-by-one as Harrison fires away like a twisted Art Linkletter. The women creep up about ten feet behind them and open fire. Graham and Michael got hit a time or two, but almost every egg whacks the Cheesemachine.

"Which guy is the dumbest?"
Whack!
"Which guy would cheat on you?"
Whack!
"Which guy is the ugliest?"
Whack!
"Which guy is the nastiest, most insincere cheesemachine?"
Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!

Pavelka stands there, his cheddar-skin coated in dripping egg embryos. If Harrison had sprinkled some bacon bits on him and kicked him into the fire pit, they could have had a giant omelet. But he doesn't. Meth Head Melissa is declared the winner and recipient of an immunity rose. Now they bring the girls out and they are lined up for their turn to be humiliated. Now the spoilers said that they had to stop the contest after a few throws because these idiots were throwing overhand at the women from ten paces, but the way it was edited, nearly every throw looked underhand. From what we see, virtually no girl got touched except Erica Rose, who got pummeled like a U.S. Embassy in Libya. The wingman grins like Simon Bar-Sinister and reads out the questions.

"Which girl is the ugliest?
Whack!
"Which girl would you least like to hook up with?"
Whack!
"Which girl is the skankiest?
Whack!
"Which girl is the biggest ho?"
Whack! Whack! Whack!

Erica stands there dripping metaphorical egg jizz and shaking with humiliated tears. (You should really consider getting a job, Erica.) In another of Carroll's Through the Looking Glass moments, The Money Shot rushes over to give comfort. Holding the miserable Erica by the cheeks, she assures her, "Everyone here is beautiful." If you ever wondered how they can edit someone who is willing to play along with their schemes even a little bit and distort them beyond recognition, this should do it. This is the Michelle Money the other girls on Brad's season all talk about: the one who did everyone's hair before each of their dates and was called Mama Michelle, not the poisonous jackal her sense of humor helped them portray her as. Anytime you wonder how low and skeezy the producers can be, just remember Mish-Hell! Anyway, Michelle wraps her in her arms and she and the other girls lead the trembling Erica away as the Cheesemachine whines about how much he choked and Breakdance Michael Stagliano is declared the winner.

As Scary as Touring a Library or Maybe the Set of Wipeout!

Whhooooooooooo! Oh man, this was terrifying! All that stumbling around in an empty building accompanied by fifty people in semi-darkness. All of those crew members throwing crap at the famewhores to try and get the to jump. Erica Rose leading a seance over some dead guys medical records? Lame won't even begin to cover this date. Michael Stag, as the winner of the Erica Bukakke Contest, gets an immunity rose and the pleasure of taking former fiance and Bachelor Bicycle, Holly Durst, to this scary, empty building along with the still dripping Erica Rose and the miles-out-of-his-league, Michelle. I'm not going to recap this idiocy until we get to the part where Michael gives Holly the rose so he can get her alone for a chat. Michelle and Erica cool their heels with some wine while Michael hauls Holly outside and he tries to fall in love with her all over again. This was edited so badly, I can barely tell what happened between them anyway, but I did notice Stag getting all serious and crying a lot, while hot-to-trot, Holly tries to lay the "friend card" on him. Michael fights the moniker, but Holly is interested in partying, not getting married. Sorry bud, and better luck next time. You'll be glad this happened Michael. Stupid, lame, dumb-assed date: over.

Horny Blake Decides to Play Meth Head Melissa

Now this was a brilliant tactical move. Just what kind of dentist is Blake supposed to be? Let me ask you, Dear Reader, would you let a man as quick as Blake is to whore himself out, put his hands in your mouth? Not mine, he isn't. Anyway, since she won the Make-Jake-An-Omelet-Contest, Melissa gets a rose to keep, one to give away, and two extra guys to dump. She takes the aforementioned porn star, suit-filling extra, Captain Kirk, and the King of Stupid Land, Kasey Mushmouth, out on a boat date. The boys swim around in the waters off the California coast, but Melissa has hatched an evil scheme to give the rose to Kasey, who needs it about as bad as Melissa needs a biker bar to crash in, but this won't stop Blake from trying to get the rose no matter what he has to do. Telling us in Private Interviews, just what an unappealing trash bag Melissa is, Blake also lets us know that he'd willing to throw down for the flower. "I feel like a whore prostituting myself this way, but I've got to do what I've got to do." Very wise of you to choose the most unstable maniac on this show to pull this gambit on Blake. You're making Jake look like a genius. Anyway, Blake gets her alone and hits her with cheesy pick-up lines to wiggle in close. He then holds his nose and kisses her. Yuck. When they return to the frozen boat seats, Melissa picks up the rose and hands it to the nasty dentist. Kasey curls his lip into a sneer and lets us know what he thinks of this sudden change in plans, "Murrfurr Bladavolt Melnishky!" The king sounds irked, I think. He and Captain Kirk are sent packing on a dinghy while Blake climbs all over Melissa. "It was easy. I just had some drinks." Spoken like a man with a great deal of practice on Friday night's down at Paco's Lube and Tug Bar. Yeah, you're sticking your hands in my mouth alright. Date over but his fun just beginning.

General Gia Plots Her Strategery!

We suffer through many scenes of Jake moping around navel-gazing about his impending doom and praying to the Fleiss-god for salvation before we see Gia the Pro has decided to become a strategy queen and enlists Graham's help to topple the Mumble King and his Harlot Queen from their thrones. Now, before I plaster the sweetheart for being a dimwit for choosing the king and queen's tightest ally to try and start her backstabbing, I will say that this plot would have stood a chance if Graham had been the friend Gia obviously thought he was. But the devil is in the execution, and the only execution this leads to is Gia's. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown, but temporarily fixed is the head of a plotter who isn't too bright. Gia greets Graham out by the pool with a legal pad where she has carefully tallied up the opposing armies in the house and shows him how the two of them can emerge victorious as rulers of Stupid Land.

"Ok, ya see; here's how we do it. We do it like the Geeks beat the Condoms, ya see; we park an elephant on their doorstep..."

Anyway, Graham nods then (presumably) hurries away to the Stupid Throne and informs King Mumbles that General Gia is gunning for his noggin, but we never see what actually happened. What we do see is Joke Pavelka, desperate to stay on TV a little longer try and corral his poisonous ex-fiance, Vienna Sausage to do him "a favor". The only favor Vienna would do for Jake is if she saw him standing on a chair with a noose around his neck, she'd kick it out from under him. Jake whines and mopes but she won't even walk outside with him.

The Fleiss-God Intervenes and the Jester is Still Here!

Ugh! Night falls and the Cheddar-Jester keeps moping and even goes so far as to arrange a spineless, groveling audience before the king and queen to beg for his miserable skin. And Jake isn't playing when he decides to beg and slobber, "If I win the two hundred and fifty-thousand, I'm going to donate every single..."
Only the shrill laughter of the Harlot Queen drowns out my own at that statement and Vienna blasts away: "I know it all! Your limo company is $200,000 in debt so save it, Jake!"
Mushmouth starts playing with Jake like a cat with a mouse and Vienna mocks him mercilessly. Nothing more disgusting than watching a greedy, spineless liar and two greedy sadists have a threesome. And speaking of threesomes, looks like Blake the Horny Dentist had one of the worst ones in history. Blake, who is determined to get his ride on the Bachelor Bicycle, is being stalked by his self-inflicted problem, Meth Head Melissa. Trying to steal a few minutes to pop the kickstand on the bike, Blake can't wander away more then ten feet without Melissa tracking him down. As he lays in bed with Holly flirting, Melissa comes storming in and lays down beside them both and leers at him. Well you got ~~two hot chicks~~, er, a hot chick and an nutso one in bed, Dr. Hard-On; what now? Melissa, who is about as stable as a meth lab, refuses to leave so Holly creeps away looking guilty. Damn! I was hoping for a replay of Melissa playing her favorite game with Holly, "You're a Psycho! No, you're a psycho!" Oh well. She then berates Dr. Do'EmAll. "I can't trust you!" Ya think? Melissa finally shows up crying in a P.I. melting down about having "romantic" feelings for Dr. Herpes. Well, she is perfect Bachelor fodder; she falls in love quicker than water freezes at the South Pole. Blake complains she won't leave him alone. Brilliant move, genius.

Pretty Cool Game Where No One Knows the Rules and You Can Just Make Shit Up as You Go Along.

Well, how should I recap this since I'm sick of writing about it, and it was edited so sloppily I can barely tell what happened? I know, bullets!

Fleiss-god intervenes and saves the Cheesemachine for another week in hopes I'll have a stroke from watching him by telling the greedy ones that they will vote for two women this week. Harrison announced the move when Jake was practically mid-grovel and had his tongue on Kasey's shoe.
Vienna explodes and tries to lead a walkout since this is "cheating!" (Don't you need rules for someone to break for it to be "cheating"?)
Wingman Fleiss-Minion tells her if she doesn't like the rules she can get the hell out of Stupid Land.
King Kasey sits with General Gia and smirk-mumbles that he knows she out to get him and she's toast. Gia storms around screeching how all these people are dishonest crapsacks; the producers would slip an emetic to their own grandmothers and ....(you get the idea)...and she storms out and leaves before they vote her out. Kisses, Gia; there could only be two reasons in the entire universe you're not married to a wonderful man, sweetie: either you don't want to or you have worse taste in men than Eva Braun. Either way, its been nice seeing you and I can't say that for too many in this franchise.
Eraser Head Ames has slobbered on King Mumbles to protect his sudden ladylove, Jackie Gordon, but suddenly Captain Kirk and Sultry Ella partner up so Kasey draws the dagger and plants it into Jackie's back.
Eraser Head Ames walks his gal out, and then jumps in the limo with her and drives away in his red-hot matador drawers and has women across the country cooing at his wonderfulness... temporarily. Turns out the two spoke in a conference call the day after the broadcast and a stunned and upset Jackie said Ames dumped her. Sorry, dear, but you know no fairytale survives in Stupid Land. So much the pity.

Epilogue: A break from my usual jackassery to send out pirate blues to Michelle Money and her family at the passing of both her father and grandmother within twenty-four horrible hours of one another. Chin up sweetie, and you're too good for this crap, and you know it.

See ya next week.

8/8--Bachelor Pad; Episode 1--I've Got to Take a JAKE and Wipe My PAVELKA

2011-08-09T18:47:00.000-07:00

Oh. My. God! You people aren't seriously going to hold me to that ill-advised promise I gave you to blog about this, are you? I just watched my first episode of Bachelor Pad and that was terrible! I'm talking Jersey Shore-awful here! Surely all my sweet readers will release me from my promise to blog about this train wreck, won't you? Pretty please? Look people; I'm old, decrepit, falling apart, and that was like touring a sewer for three hours last night, expect sewers smell better. Fine! Fine, I'll do it. But if you're expecting any modicum of fairness or gentility, well, you can just forget it!

The Wingman's Not Even Required to Act Like He Likes Anyone...or Even be a Wingman

Chris Harrison, smiling like a guy paid high six-figures to host a game show forty times a year, appears out front of the Bachelor Mansion with the driveway all spritzed down and glistening under the lights as usual. Yes, limos will pull up but instead of a hoard of catty women trying to capture the heart of some dork, out pop 18 all-star famewhores prepared to compete for $250,000 smackers! Harrison grins like a man just released from prison and gleefully informs us that the very worst the Bachelor has had to offer in the last 22 seasons are back, "Yes, even the crazy ones!" Well, you can't damn him for honesty this once. After a horrifying preview of what's heading my way, the limos pull up and here we go:

Famewhores on Parade

Harrison plays meet and greet like he's the Bachelor and welcomes them all back, even the ones he has trashed like moldy sandwiches in the past.

1) Michelle "Money Shot! Money--Comes out looking as gorgeous as expected and in a Through Carroll's Looking Glass moment, spends the whole night being one of the classiest, nicest people on the grounds. Expect major image rehab for the Money Shot.

2) Blake the ~~Smarmy~~ Horny Dentist--Hide the women! The recent escapee from the clutches of Ashley Hebert is aboard and screw the money, this boy is looking for some tail! Good god, he drooled on every female in the place and the way he acted, Harrison better shower with a bodyguard.

3) Holly Durst--former Matt Grant escapee, now referred to on the boards as the Bachelor Bicycle because "everyone's had a ride". Doesn't look like she's running from that nickname either. Blake's already circling and preparing to mount for his turn.

4) Graham Bunn--the legend. The guy who dumped DeAnna Pappas and ran for the hills like any normal guy would. Never thought they'd get him back in the fold. Still got the shadowy face and abs going on but what's missing is an awful lot of hair. Hey Graham, better call Jason Mesnick and get on the Rogaine program; you're starting to look a little elvish.

5) Justin Rated-R Wrassler Rego--Drops any pretense at acting like a normal or decent person from the get go. Brags he got busted for having girlfriends while trying to cheese Ali Fedotowsky and played the Rated-R bad boy to the hilt. Even blew Harrison off on the way inside. In Ottawa, the parliament winced.

6) Erica Rose--Former princess of Prince Lorenzo Baloney. Bragged she had grown up since then when she appeared like a spoiled little bitch, but certainly wasn't interested in anything icky, like getting a job. Agreed to make out with the men, the women, the Mansion's gardener and Harrison's labrador, as long as it didn't violate her morals, which she sporting admitted, we're non-existent. Needs to tell her plastic surgeon daddy to lay off the procedures though; she was supposed be around 25, but looking 45.

7) Vienna Sausage Girardi--One of the obvious Stars of this season. Worked hard not to dispel any notions that she is a vain, manipulative, immature, golddigger, and drama queen extraordinaire. Spent the first half hour of the broadcast whining about her "terror" at having to see former fiance, and fellow famewhore extraordinaire, The Evil One. She should come with a warning label.

8) Eraser Head Ames--Dude, WTF are you doing here? Your Mumsy just lost her membership at the Eisenhower Golf and Country Club for this.

9) Gia "the pro" Allemand--Well, ya see Gia got dumped by Jake, and then she got dumped by Wes, who was screwing Vienna after she got dumped by Jake; then she got dumped by half the New York Yankees and nearly all of the Boston Bruins, so she came back to get screwed over by Jake. Huh?

10) Kasey Mushmouth Kahl--Bring on the subtitles. I said during Ali's season that he needed to get the word "Lunatic" tattooed across his forehead. I was wrong. He needs to get "CHUMP" tattooed there instead. Vienna's latest fool. Just give him the money, he's suffered enough.

11) Jackie Gordon--one of Brad Womack's survivors. Educated, articulate; paid her freight onto this travesty by being mean as hell to Michelle Money on the Women Tell All. Brought back because somebody needed to come onboard to fight with Michelle.

12) Alli Booty--Huh? Did someone call for a large-featured, somewhat mannish-looking chick who actually does struggle getting a date in real life? This one mystified.

13) Meth Head Melissa--yikes! The skanky, twenty-five year-old waitress who was debauched and seedy enough-looking to play Cougar to thirty-seven year-old Brad Womack. Previews show Blake is already aiming his missile at this. Jesus, dude! How hard up are you?

14) "Breakdancing" Michael Stagliano--Jillian Harris' former high school student suitor who apparently jumped on the Bachelor Bicycle and almost didn't get off. Narrow escape, man. At least he looks old enough to drive now.

15) Sultry Ella--another Jake Pavelka survivor. Lookin' hot and sounding desperate. No wonder they brought her on.

16) William the Unwise--Another mystery selection. Unfunny, dorky Tool.

and

Ta Da!

As the great George Carlin once observed when smelling a truly awful fart: "It's not the smell; it's the burning of my eyes!"

I was going back over the count in my notes when the Wench Queen suddenly blurted, "Hey, it's Kirk." And sure enough, Ali's brave survivor of the mold monster attack, "Captain" Kirk was sitting there, and must be such a huge non-entity on this that he managed to slip inside without me noticing. I just looked up and he was there. Not sure that bodes well for you future in this game, bud.

The famewhores all stashed indoors, Harrison comes in tinging a glass with his cheese knife and announces: "Ok, you're all here; now let's get drunk and start hooking up!" I see Holly beat him to the punch. She spent the whole intro period eyeing Blake, hoping former fiance, Breakdance Michael would be a no-show, and was bombed before Harrison could even draw the cheese knife from its holster. And we're off! Ok, what happened? It's simple really: Vienna spent the whole time trying to introduce everyone to the "Monster" who was Jake just in case any of these other people had lived under a rock the past two years and were unaware what a turd he is. People paired off pretty quickly, since it seems impossible to win this contest unless you hook up, and since Vienna and Kasey were the only already established couple, they got all the attention and other possible hook ups wandered into their orbit. People like Captain Kirk and Alli Booty couldn't catch flies, while Ames stood around looking like a well-heeled museum patron who'd wandered into a porn theater. The rest of the evening was taken up by Vienna's former and current boyfriends sniffing around each other and pissing in the corners to mark their territories. Jake ran after Kasey and they had a man-to-turd talk. Kasey, who is about a foot taller, and forty pounds heavier than Jake, towered over him while Jake tried to talk him into not beating his ass. Shame; he succeeded.

The Missionary Challenge

The next morning we see several hook ups happened sometime: Eraser Head Ames has Jackie Gordon horizontal under a gazebo and is loving life, while Kirk gets a minute to whine to Blake that he got stuck with Erica Rose. Poor bastard. Anyway, Harrison leads them out front for their first challenge. The challenge is when the guys will be suspended 10 feet above beds in harnesses and the gals must hang onto their partner anyway they can, which means by aping the missionary position. They all mime the 'ol in-out and are hoisted up into the air. The couple that hangs on the longest wins roses and are immune to the first vote-off. For all the silliness of this, it got grueling. Some of the teams were what you would expect, several were surprises, however. Poor Graham, who's whipcord thin, got stuck trying to heft Alli Booty. It looked like a spider trying to web-wrap a Clydesdale. It takes him about 5 minutes to go "Urgggghhhh!" and disgorge her out onto the bed. She lands with a whinny and we're underway. As time passes, couples start falling out. Some left me scratching my head. William the Tool was partnered up with Gia, and he was one of the first to drop. Gia, who weighs about 75 lbs., scowled up at him, "I'm tiny. He couldn't hold me?" William's thrilled face pops up on my TV screen and crows, "I got to dryhump Gia! I'm the winner!" Idiot. Gia wanders away disgusted. The last two couples left hanging on are (naturally) Kasey and Vienna, and Jake and Jackie, who decided not to pair up with Ames for some odd reason. It goes past the thirty minute mark and the pain on the men's faces is evident. Both women hold on and ignore the burning in their arms and legs as well. Finally, Kasey, who is the largest of the men, is being cut in half by the harness and the voluptuous Vienna, and his legs start to turn purple from lack of circulation. "I can't..." Vienna, glaring over at Jake refuses to let go of him until he begs. Jackie releases Jake with a victory yell as Vienna hops down angrily onto the mat and Kasey is lowered onto the mattress in agony. Vienna, showing her character is not a result of edit, sneers at him and stomps away. Very classy. A moment later we see Kasey standing in the hot tub trying to get some circulation back into his body and Vienna stomps into the tub and busts his balls. "I expected more out of you!" Kasey tries to talk with her but any sign of disagreement on his part earns him a shout from Vienna, "You promised you would protect me! Why are you shouting?" Kasey, who had barely mumbled, shows how ridiculously pussywhipped he is and apologizes. Oh, son; grow a sack! Ugh!

Cheesemachine and Jackie "date"

Oh god. Night one and here's he is all in my face. Anyway, they head into town and he takes her to eat at a theater picked just to personally shove it into my eye: The El Capitan! (Up yours too, Fleiss!) They head down the street and some plump little girl has noticed the cameras and somehow figures out that her idol, the cheesemachine, is in attendance. Jake gets to act like a warm human being by speaking with the girl as she cries. "Hi, I'm Jake." Jackie stands aside smiling as the little girl fights tears and says, "You really do smell like Roquefort!" Anyway, the girl tells the Cheeser that being on TV was her dream. (get her number Fleiss; 5 more years and you got another famewhore.) They finally let her alone and Jake takes Jackie out onto the top of the theaters marquee for dinner where they strategize about what they will do the extra rose they were given. No, actually, the strategy consisted of Jake telling Jackie what a piece of tabloid trash Vienna was and Jackie, acting like a woman with a tenth of her actual I.Q., tells Le Fromage to do what he wants with the rose, maybe even give it to Vienna? Ha!

Cocktail Party Conspiracies

Before the drunken festivities can begin, Jake hauls his only supporter in the whole house aside and tells her he will leave her vulnerable at the vote and give his extra rose to Vienna. Gia splutters at him, "Huh?" Jake, who knows no one in the cast will ever allow him to win the money, only came back on this show for 5 more minutes of fame and to rehabilitate his pathetic reputation, hangs Gia out to dry and basically ends the entire game in the first week. With Gia forced to make a deal with Kasey to survive, Jake has guaranteed that Kasey and Vienna are basically bulletproof until the finale. Gia, who despite being sweet, isn't exactly the brightest star in the heavens, but even she knows what this means. "Jake, this is stupid!" Like he cares. He and Jackie call everyone into the central room and he gives Vienna the rose and tries to rehab his pathetic image. Vienna cries like she is being forced to sit near Frankenstein and walks away with the rose to do a P.I. "He goes next!" Brilliant move, Einstein.

Now onto the drunken festivities. Rated-R slithers around the party trying to play some many sides of the fence he practically gets lost in a quantum dimension. He cheeses up Alli Booty, who runs and tells Graham and Michelle, who've allied themselves with Kasey and Vienna. And for ratting out Justin, they all target Alli? Huh? Alli stares around in disbelief as one after another person lets her know her number is about up. Rated-R gnashes his villainous choppers and rags Alli for being a drunken moron. The most powerful alliance in the house comes crashing down on these two non-entities and both are voted out. Alli walks away in a daze as Rated-R refuses to shake hands, steals Jake's rose and storms off to a limo to embarrass Canada.

Previews: I couldn't watch another second and who the hell cares. Ugh!

8/1--Fiji Finale; The Skinhead Stands Alone

2011-08-02T11:09:00.000-07:00

The Happy Couple

And so it ends; one guy stands, the other falls. What a weird season this has been. Ashley Hebert's long slog to find a fiance finally ended with her picking New York elder statesman, J.P. "The Skinhead" Rosenbaum in Fiji. You can bet most fans walked away with a sense of getting their money's worth as the love story came to fruition on the beaches of Fiji. True, the fans of "Vino" Ben Flajnik were less than enamored by a lot of things, but the end has been reached. It definitely came with a different spin on the same old format too. For once, the family of the Bachelorette really did leave her "more confused than ever"... for about 5 minutes. After that? Captain Obvious re-took the con of this ship and sailed it into Heartbreak Harbor, stopping only long enough to torture wine merchant Ben by letting him humiliate himself by tossing out a proposal only to have it batted back in his face. Needless cruelty is always a Bachelor hallmark.

Twister Sister

Chrystie Adds Some "Corn". Ashley's older, skanky, loud-mouthed sister

This may have been the loveliest spot they have ever chosen for a finale before. After a season of touring monsoon hotspots, they moved the last two weeks to the South Pacific paradise of Fiji and just let the beauty flow in. It's here in paradise, that Ashley's family has arrived and perhaps for the first time in show history, their visit will turn into a critical act in the final play. Ashley's mom, step-dad, and little brother all show, but the big kahuna of this family is Ashley's older sister, the deliciously named Chrystie Corns. We saw her during Womack's last season up in Maine. Ashley's older sister bears a very strong resemblance to little sister, but is covered in garish tattoo's and is possessed of a very loud mouth. I didn't know until this morning that she is also on a TV show about couponing. You know what kind of show I'm talking about; those new shows where people with OCD clip a million coupons and then go buy out their local Kroger and get all the items basically for free? Their basements are stocked with forty-thousand rolls of toilet paper and they spend their families into the gutters on shelving just to hold all of their pelf? Yeah, real sane stuff. Anyway, sister is there to ride roughshod on the two remaining guys, one in particular. Ashley meets with her family and the other three are literally cardboard props as big mouth takes center stage.

J.P. Gets Some Family Lovin'

J.P is up first and he confidently predicts success with Ashley's clan. Ashley greets the close-shaved one on the beach and leads them up to meet the family. They clown around in front of the family and sit down for a brief meal. Mom welcomes J.P. into the family after 5 minutes while sister Chrystie watches them carefully. She then starts pecking away with questions, "Does he make you laugh?" Ashley stares blankly, "Uhhhhh...I make myself laugh." Chrystie's lip curls and here we go. A pow wow of family girls is called inside and sis drops the bomb: "This isn't the one. You're not yourself around him." The writing is on the wall of every structure in Fiji as Ashley breaks down and bawls. She's cried a lot this season but these are heaving sobs, and her choice of men is evident. Chrystie finally takes J.P. aside and trades "Corns" for "Horns" and gores him. "There's nothing you can do to change my mind. You're older, set in your ways. I thought she was more herself with Brad." Yikes! He got "Womacked"! Chrystie pounds away and J.P replies with all the right answers--compromise, a new life--but it matters not. Sister has judged and that's that. J.P. wanders away in a dazed stupor and he and Ashley go for a walk on the beach, and then things get really serious. Ashley fails to leap to his defense and basically tells him Chrystie has shaken her confidence in 'them'. Understandably upset, J.P. wanders away angrily. How this guy ever proposed, beats me. Meeting adjourned.

Vino Ben's Comedy Act is a Hit!

Younger, hipper, Vino Ben, filled with a confusing blind confidence he will ooze the entire night is up next. But before Ben can go and win plaudits, Ashley is still hung up over her sister's abrupt dismissal of J.P. and they meet for a seat on a wall and have a heated argument. Evident immediately, is just how powerful a personality Chrystie has. Ashley is dying for her approval, but big sister won't back off an inch. She says some things that make no sense "...you're an adult. I'm not going to sugarcoat it..." while at the same time "...I'm trying to save you from yourself." Contradictory much? But she also says some pretty honest things too, "You don't want my opinion! You just want me to agree with you!" Maybe Chrystie is just a loud-mouthed attention-whore; maybe she wants her own reality show, but this all looks damned honest; a family dynamic borne from a dysfunctional upbringing with the older sister assuming the mother role and the younger sister trying to break free from being the daughter. Whatever it is, its a mess. Ashley calls her a "bitch" and I suppose she was being one. She was certainly unfair and judgmental to J.P., but I'm having trouble faulting her. Ashley said she valued her sister's opinion way above her mother's, and you can see why. Weird family; weak mom; powerful older sister; and weaker younger sister. Credit though, they must have survived some tough times with this dynamic and you do what you must to survive. Regardless, here comes Ben, looking smug with confidence and its good (but confusing) to see. Ben handles this meeting the way he handles everything the entire night: with wit, charm, and real emotion, but also with a confidence that was as blind as Stevie Wonder. Where that came from we'll probably never know. Ashley greets him on the beach and leads him up to his own inquisition. They sit down with the family and instantly he and Ashley break into their comedy duo act of dueling dog voices. Ashley suddenly morphs into the giggling, hyper-active, Madawaska cheerleading captain. Chrystie smiles at her and nods. This is her little sister, not the demure, contained, older woman she was with J.P. Chrystie takes Ben out by the pool and warns him: "I've got some tough questions."
Ben smiles confidently, "I've heard. Shoot."
Chrystie batters away and Ben never breaks a sweat batting them back at her with ease. Chrystie glows and looks like she wants to jump him. Ashley walks Ben away and he is all smiles, certain he has won. Meeting adjourned.

Vino Ben's Foul Mudhole

Save it! Mudholes stink! They're not sexy, not erotic, and just plain gross. Watching these two coat each other with the bottom sludge of some fetid pond was just nasty; and speaking of nasty, what's with Ashley honking Ben's junk in the mudhole? He looked as surprised by that as I was. Wonder what Super Fiance thought of that little gesture? Regardless, wearing an orange shirt and old man hat, Ben finally gets a ride on a helicopter before he gets mud slimed and honked and he and Ashley do their usual peck-kissing while the sun is up. Once cleaned up, she heads over to his digs so he can drop the L-Bomb on her and they can make out. He pins her to the bed sucking her face off so J.P. can have something to store on VHS he can play every time he and have Ashley have a fight and he can get drunk and furious watching. She finally leaves and Ben is over the moon. Date over.

J.P.'s Hardsell

J.P.'s final date consisted of Ashley channelling her look-a-a-like sister and pounding him with pushy, agressive questions and J.P. responding with real, heartfelt assurances and pleas to hold onto her. Regardless, next time J.P. gets her naked, he earned the right. The guy held on furiously to what he thought was his, "Your sister is wrong!" he spent the entire time talking her off the ledge and then L-Bombed her before pleading, "Try not to break my heart?" Good stuff. Maybe even great stuff. Time will tell. As night falls, J.P. keeps up the full court press by giving her a scrapbook inscribed with a love letter that was a beaut. If that didn't seal the deal, then he didn't need her. But the time has come for...

Float Planes, Proposals, and Broken Hearts

Ashley awakes the next morning and writes in her journal. "I sooooo honked Ben's bobo yesterday and now I'm gonna' dump him. I wonder if Chrystie will think I'm a big whore..." and then gets ready for her big day. She lacquers up her fake eyelashes and dons her $17,000 dress as both boys go ring shopping. Neil Lane has once again set up his Ring & Hot Dog stand and awaits them. Vino Ben goes first and exudes more blind confidence as he picks out a rock and launches a Neil Lane commercial: "This is a Forever Ring." Good job, Ben. J.P. follows up and is already sweating like a prosecution witness about to testify against the Gambino Family. Lane plays bartender and asks him some questions about his "journey" and J.P can hammer his theme of a "Leap of Faith." Boy boys armed, they wash, dress and head to the float planes. Ashley wanders around the Final Rose Ceremony site--a beautiful beach inlet--and awaits them. Both boys fly in and finally the first lands. Out pops Vino Ben where the wingman awaits, and Harrison walks him to his doom. Bouncing with foolish confidence, Ben charges down to her and when she starts to dump him, he cuts her off and gushes. Filled with fool's confidence she stares at him as he falls down to a knee and smiling like a loon, launches a proposal. Then she reaches down and picks him up. Boo! That sucked! Needless. Hell, even J.P will watch that tape and look at his fiancee and ask, "What the fuck did you do that for?" There was no call for that. Ashley could have and should have stopped him regardless of what the producer's told her. Low blow! Ben stares at her, now fully awake to his humiliation and says, "Wow. I didn't see that coming. I guess that's it," and he stalks off. She gives chase up the stairs. He didn't shout, didn't cuss at her, but the guy is humiliated, stunned, and pissed. Argh. Argh! Argh!! Damn right, Ben Flajnik; you just got shitcanned and needlessly humiliated on National TV! You've got every right to be pissed! For the first time since Chelsea nearly tossed British wanker, Matt Grant into the Pacific for dumping her in favor of Shayne "Dalai" Lamas, we have an f2 who was truly invested and completely furious at being blown off. Props to the winemaker! Ashley tries to stop him at the top of the stairs but Ben dismisses her, "I don't need you to sugarcoat it! Nothing this good can ever end well--it just can't!" and he marches away, does a PI, and then climbs into a John Boat and is sailed away out into the open Pacific so he can presumably drowned himself if he wishes.

Briefly, they show Ashley crying over Ben but quickly cutaway to try and restore the good mood as J.P's plane circles in and lands. Harrison, who obviously managed to avoid Ben on his way out, greets J.P. and walks him down the same path he took Ben in on. Say what you will, but both guys were totally clueless about what was about to happen. Ben was blindly confident and got bushwhacked; J.P. looks ready to be sick and when he gets to Ashley he (wisely) goes into a 5-minute preamble waiting for her to tip her hand before he makes his move. At last she kisses him and calls him "Baby." The green light given at last, he drops to a knee and launches one. Acting like she's still dispensing roses instead of getting marriage proposals, she hesitates dramatically before saying "Yes!" He rings her up and suddenly every other word out of her mouth is "Baby!" Maybe she's been saying that all along and they've edited it out, but I doubt it. They then wander into the surf making out so she can ruin her $17,000 dress and Fleiss can blare, I Can't Fight This Feeling...

ATFR: Chrystie Has Her Crow Served Cold

But before big sis gets her comeuppance, Ben is brought out to relive his humiliation Live. Harrison comes flouncing out with his hair teased up wearing a pin-striped number and brings Ben out on stage. The wingman gives him props for getting pissed off and they visit with each other. Ben stays classy, but affected and the women in the audience go wild. Ashley is brought out to avoid the one question he wants answered like a skilled politician: "When did you know?"
"Blather, blather, blather, not telling, blather."
"Ok."
Ben departs and J.P is brought out to celebrate the fact he is engaged and didn't bother to shave today. They "oohh" and "awww" and sister Chrystie is wrangled up into the hotseat to apologize to J.P. and Ashley. Both look at her with smug grins. Ashley may be the little sister, but she is a one month away from an Ivy League Doctorate in Dentistry and is sitting alongside her fiance who is some sort of big noise in the New York construction industry. She stares at her sister, who is covered in tattoo's, divorced, a couponing queen, and all alone. Yeah, I guess she was allowed to look smug. Family harmony is restored as Chrystie bites the bullet and swallows the crow.
Season Over.

Ok, out into the world I release the couple for the truly hard part. They've spent the last three months hunkered down together in a foxhole while the media, tabloids, and internet nuts like me have thrown stones at them. Now, the hard part of folding one another's lives into one and living to tell, all while the paparazzi photograph them from bushes and their every argument is reported by "friends" on Twitter. Good luck, kids. But I will do them the favor I do for all Bachelor couples once their season's end: I'll leave them alone.

Next week: Its back to drunken whoring with avarice and greed in full display without even the hypocritical threat of love. That's right, next week, Bachelor Pad 2 premieres and your Old Ship's Captain will be on the trail this season. For all my readers who skip that cesspool of the decline of Western Civilization, I'll see you in the fall when somebody (Probably Douchy Ryan but maybe Vino Ben) returns as the next Bachelor! See ya then!

7/31--The Men BORE All

2011-08-01T10:22:00.000-07:00

I've come to expect very little from these recap shows, but this one failed to meet even my low ball expectations. This will be a short recap.

The show starts with a taped Ashley piece so she can catalogue her "journey". Artfully edited out were the parts where her seething anger at the way the show kept her in the dark about Big Head Bentley and his real (and edited) douchebaggery came into play. The only thing obvious other than her understandable anger was the crushing effect being an internet dartboard of criticism has cost her. Her relief that the end is finally in sight was manifest. But hey, nobody said paying off those Dental School loans was gonna' be a bowl of cherries, dear. They walk through the season that had few highlights early on.

Harrison now moves to the outtakes, which are usually hilarious. I say usually because these weren't all that funny. Exceptions were J.P. the Skinheads first 1-on-1 date where he destroyed a home entertainment center, couldn't work a DVD player, and then had Ashley fall asleep on him. Harrison tried to stir some comedy by discussing with Ashley things the viewers noticed during the broadcast that the production didn't; a bowl of fruit arranged by a clever staffer to look like a man's junk, and Ashley keeping Vaseline by her bedside. (Obviously these things were noticed by the other 4 male viewers besides myself. Women aren't famously known for spotting a cock and balls masquerading as a banana and two oranges and understand a jar of Vaseline is more likely used for chapped lips than a sex lube. Yuck for kissing her at night though.)

The Real Point of the Broadcast

A Fan at the Taping of The Man BORE All

Now we come to it. The theme of the entire night--the guests, the former cast mates, and the previews--were really all about pimping Bachelor Pad 2, which starts on Monday, August 8th. (Yes, the Blast will be covering that trainwreck this year as just another chapter in my quest to get the hell away from Jake Cheesemachine Pavelka, and his whiny, former fiance, Vienna Sausage.) Various love triangles and drunken make-out sessions were highlighted. Seated in the audience were three of the former cast members who will be joined by current ones, Blake, the Smarmy Dentist, William the Unfunny Wiseman, and Eraser Head Ames. Michelle Money, Justin Rated-R Wrassler Dick and the formerly glacier-stranded Kasey Mushmouth Kahl, who from the looks of things, seems to have run into Vienna Sausage at a meeting of the Strange Bedfellows Society and can't seem to get rid of her, were all in attendance. Bet he wishes he's stayed on that glacier now. Should be funny to watch him try and guard and protect her vagina around all those other wolves.

The Men

Man, I almost slept through all of this. Things highlighted or reinforced: William is a d-bag; Jeff, the Mask is a d-bag; Tim the drunk was indeed bombed night one to the point of blacking out and was meeting his fellow cast members for the first time; Nick, (sans) Horrible Hair Highlights, got to be Harrison's co-host for the night and scored serious face time; Constantine Hercules was nearly silent (and he liked it that way) and chicks all want to bring Eraser Head Ames home and keep him as a highly intelligent pet. Sunny Ryan got his Bachelor candidacy off to a solid start by looking somewhat earnest and even more like a dork than before by admitting he had read books (and took piles of notes) on how to ask Ashley good questions? Blake reacted exactly like I did to Ryan's over-the-top meltdown when Ashley dumped him, but that doesn't matter. Ryan got a ton of face time, a trip to the Warm Seat, and he actually shaved his nasty five o'clock shadow. He's in.

Michelle Money

Since Bentley had enough sense to stay home, Michelle Money got a seat near Harrison to blandly explain her texts to Ashley warning her about Bentley before the show started. We learned nothing here except that Michelle is still ungodly beautiful and when not acting like a hired villain, she's actually pretty nice. Expect major image rehab on Bachelor Pad for her.

Ali, DeAnna, and Jason

Rumors say these three will be acting as Bachelor Pad judges this season, so they were all trundled out to give Ashley advice on how to handle the scrutiny of being the Bachelorette. Wouldn't this have been a bit more helpful before she filmed it? Nevermind. They all show up and remind us that they are all engaged to or married to people they met on the show, or in DeAnna's case, through it. Other than that, they join Ashley and empathize as she melts down about just what a brutal beating this job is. Future famewhores beware.

Bloopers:

Hysterical! No, not really. Funny though, especially seeing Harrison deliver his famous "last Rose of the Evening" speech with his fly down and seeing Ashley nearly blinded when a moth flew into her fake eyelashes. Still much better than the rest of the show, as always.

The Finale

Ok, J.P and Vino Ben are still out there circling in float planes and waiting for Ashley and Harrison to get back to Fiji and get this over with. The finale is Monday Night and I'll be around to Blast it on Tuesday. We'll see ya then.

7/25--Fantasy Dates Courtesy of Captain Obvious

2011-07-26T15:20:00.000-07:00

Fantasy Date Week Means its Time to Get Jiggy!...or Not.

Hmm. I'm starting to wonder if Executive Producer, Mike Fleiss has been sniffing glue. Either that or a rug of biblical proportions is about to be pulled out from under the viewers. In all the renditions of this show I've watched, I've never seen one look as obvious as this one. Spoilers, schmoilers; I don't even have to look, and unless the FleissRat is planning to pull a fast one, neither do you, Dear Reader. I'm sure hooks, and dives, and god knows what else may await us in the finale, but for now at least, this sucker looks like you could end it right now. Last season I wasn't able to cover the end of that obvious outcome where Brad Womack came out and told Emily Maynard he was in love with her on the Fantasy Dates, but I did watch it. And even that ending had more doubt in my mind than this one does. Maybe Fleiss just threw his hands up when he figured out what a terrible actress Ashley Hebert is and decided to play it straight? Definitely not his style. That's the one thing that worries me. Be that as it may, Fleiss seems to have simply given up on this season and spent an enormous amount of last night's time promoting his next Bachelor, Sunny Ryan Park. If I'm right and the sleazebag is actually playing it straight for once, that's the payback we're gonna' get. Oh joy! Oh, unmitigated joy! Jake Pavelka didn't knot my colon sufficiently, so Fleiss is gonna' hire his twin brother to try and finish me off. Drop dead, Fleiss! I'll not be defeated! But first things first.

Fiji

Ashley wanders around the south pacific paradise and spends a load of time recapping her men and their individual journeys. She also acts as a tour guide for the Fijian Chamber of Commerce, on whose dime this entire trip was undoubtedly paid for. They get their money's worth, that's for sure. Fiji is a wondrous-looking paradise and if you're into tropical getaways, its an eye-stopper. But that's hardly news, and neither are Ashley's feelings about the men. Constantine Hercules? She thinks he's hot, loves his family, but barely knows the guy. Vino Ben? Gushes on about him and let's us know she "may be in-love with him..." but fails to add the ending of, "...like my brother." J.P., the Skinhead? Wants him to strip her naked and paddle her with a Jewish cricket-bat. So much for mystery. Anyway, it's on to the Fantasy Dates....but first!

Son of Cheesemachine

Back for the second part of his Bachelor interview is the relentlessly sunny solar energy dork, Sunny Ryan; the obvious producer-pick to be next season's Bachelor. And just to make sure he's an episode-long irritant, Fleiss puts him in the lead off position to go and pester Ashley. Ryan comes walking down the jungle path to Ashley's bungalow sporting his carefully crafted 5 o'clock shadow and Hawaiian Tropic wardrobe; absent for only the most precious moments is his fake, disingenuous grin. Don't get used to it. He tells us he wanted to give her another chance...make sure she's certain...can't stop thinking about her, and a bunch of other lies. This guy was such an obvious plant, he smells like a bonsai bush. They made Ashley give him the First Impression Rose and then she avoided having a 1-on-1 date with him like the toothache he is until she was ready to dump him; collecting meaningless Group Date roses and irritating everyone in sight until she finally spent a painful afternoon with him, and dumped him before lunch even with no rose on the date. But she needed another chance to think about it? Yeah, right. Ryan knocks on her door and barges in like a vacuum cleaner salesman. She stares at him in horror: "Uhhh, Ryan! What are you doing here?"
He makes himself at home on her sofa and it's cheese time. "I couldn't stop thinking about you so I called Chris."
Uh-huh. Reached him at the Boom-Boom Garbage Dump, did you, Ryan? And let me guess: 'Ol Wingman moved heaven and earth and told you to come right on over to Fiji, did he? (The most depressing aspect of this is that there are people in this country dumb enough to believe any of this.) Anyway, before she can tell him to buzz off again, he drops his room number on her (in case the cameramen forget where they are) and departs to haunt the rest of the episode.

Vino Ben

Now that we have that out of the way (for the moment) it's time for the actual dates. Up first is California vinter, Vino Ben F.; a guy who I think everyone has come to like, even Ashley. They meet near the Resort and she greets him with a squeal and a hesitant peck. Heading out to view the gorgeous Fijian waters, Ben does some P.I.'s and lets us know he is either deep in the bachelor bubble or a half-decent actor. Swearing his deepening love they head out on a product placement gimme-boat named the Belmare and proceed to do some mighty awkward-looking suntanning. Ben gets to maul her while putting on some sunscreen and she obediently climbs atop his saddle to oil him up to. Giggling with embarrassment she rubs in the lotion and he asks, "Are you ok with this?" Wow, calm down. Wanna ask J.P. if he's ok with it, Ben? You know Constantine won't care. She finally climbs off and he thanks her for her hard work. Giggling, she nods towards his crotch and smirks, "Thank you for your HARD work." Nothing feeds a woman's ego like the knowledge that they are more in control of a certain part of a guy than he is. Some funny outtakes at the end of the show illustrate how well these two get on and just how falling down drunk they both got, but in the interest of pure romance, these are skipped so they can mouth platitudes and go snorkeling amongst the tropical fish. Later, they have dinner and Ben starts mouthing all around the 'L-word' but gets close enough to guarantee Ashley will use the sexcard Harrison wrote for them in between lap dances at his "office". Ben, who never looked like he sobered up from the boat trip slurs his ways through enough P.I's to insert some drama about the ending, or he would have if Ashley would have been capable of carrying off the charade well enough. Which she isn't. Too many close-mouthed, quickly broken kisses between these two makes it look like siblings trying to fool their aunt. Doesn't matter, Ben still gets to take her into the the season's first hot tub (can you believe that?) and get her blasted enough to try and take his shot. Date over

Constantine the Honest

Next up is Constantine Hercules, and at last! we see a helicopter. Ashley hauls him aboard and we are treated to a look at the gorgeous Fijian coastline until...haunting the rocky shoreline is Sunny Ryan, made to look like he's stalking their date. He's not. He's stalking us! Go away! Ahem, anyway, Ashley takes the guy she hasn't dumped out to an island oasis and a beautiful waterfall for a swim. It's all breathtaking except for the constant voice overs Ashley is doing: "he won't open up to me...he won't let me in." They finally get out of the water for a picnic and she starts comparing his slow house-shopping to getting engaged. As politely as possible, he tells her that time isn't the issue; loving her is. They finally break camp and head to dinner as darkness falls. I'll keep this short because it doesn't require a long-winded description. I'll summarize:
"You're not really into me, are you?"
"No, not really."
"Damn."
"Guess I'd better leave."
Constantine gets up and heads back to Georgia while Ashley dramatically reads Harrison's sexcard before leaving it on the table and wandering back to her room. Props to Constantine; he didn't try and lie his way into the Fantasy Suite for a high-pressure handjob. Date over.

Finishing the Job Interview

The next morning Ashley wanders over to Sunny Ryan's suite to put him out of my misery (for the moment) all the while admitting that Constantine did the right thing by pulling the plug and he set an example for her. Into Ryan's she goes and the director leads them out onto the balcony so Ryan can be close enough to a railing to perform a Mesnick when she dumps him. After a little preamble, and a ton of his fake grinning, Ashley says the magic words that have undoubtedly been spoken by a chorus of people who know Ryan Park in real life: "Ryan, get lost!" Ah, music to my ears. But this is just his cue, of course. As she leaves he starts winding up his Pavelka Act, "When am I going to find true love?" He breaks down bawling and goes all tourettes on us: "It'll happen; It'll happen; It'll happen; It'll happen." He should have tried, "There's no place like home; there's no..." It sounds better. See ya next season, you douche nozzle.

J.P., The Fiance

That might be a bit premature, but not by much. Ashley greets J.P. by practically tackling him onto the ground and they board a seaplane for yet another breath-taking view of Fiji. But really what we see is that these two can't keep their hands off one another and instead of her pasted-on smile, Ashley is beaming like a loon. The plane lands near a deserted island, but instead of rescuing Gilligan and the Castaways, these two hang out in the surf and marvel they're alive. Ashley hangs on him, bowing her back so broadly to get close to him she practically gives him a standing dryhump. Not content with that, he takes her out into the surf and she wraps her legs all the way around him and only a bathing suit slip is required to reclassify this as porno. They then lounge about on the beach looking like they need a cigarette and Fleiss makes one last-ditch pointless attempt to insert some drama by trying to show J.P.'s hesitant to tell he loves her. Wow, is that all ya got? Show the tape to Vino Ben and ask what he thinks of those short pecks now? As darkness falls and they have dinner at Tarzan's Loft, Ashley tells him that she had to "say goodbye to two guys today." Cheap trick, Ashley. Trying to convince him you dumped Constantine and Ben to get him to tell you he loves you.(Remind him to spank you for that later.) She finally confesses that someone had come back, and she didn't dump Ben and Constantine, but that Constantine and she both mutually decided that he had a ton of babes to score back in Georgia. Naturally, J.P thinks Big Head Bentley has returned once again. When she tells him it was Ryan, he practically snorts with derisive laughter. Ashley starts fingering the sexcard still trying to rook him into launching an L-Bomb her way, but J.P holds firm...until next week. Like it mattered anyway; nothing short of him slapping her face and telling her she was ugly was gonna stop that card from coming out, and sure enough, "Here; I have something for you," she hands it to him shyly. J.P takes the sexcard with a smirk and reads aloud:

J.P.,
Git ir done!
Wingman.

Argh! He takes her straight into the Fantasy Suite and this time Ashley doesn't need a gallon of wine and a hot tub to make it look like she's gonna perform. She instantly changes into a see-thru nightie and J.P tackles her onto the bed and they make out...and this time, she opens her mouth. The cameras pull back in a crane shot, only the flickering lights inside the suite visible from the exterior. But if you look on the bottom left, you can clearly see Harrison crouching by the window sill with a bottle of Old Collie in his trembling mitts, peeking inside. Date over.

What happened then? I have no idea. Seems the president and speaker of the house went a little too long blaming each other for this country's budget mess and the Wench Queen didn't adjust the DVR, so you know more than me. I could online and watch it, but since the entire family is down with a virus (including me) it's taking all my strength just to type this. If there's something relevant I need to know, feel free to leave a note in the comments down below. When we got back to Live TV it was...

Rose Ceremony Time

Not only time, it was late in the game. Whatever long-winded string of BS Ashley tossed at them was over and all she did was dramatically call out the 2 roses for the two guys who are left.

1) Vino Ben: All that winking and smirking and eyebrow raising he did to her makes me think somebody may have gotten a pocket massage as a consolation prize.

2) J.P., the Skinhead. So exhausted he practically stumbled forward.

Next week: More Fiji and Ashley's tattoo-covered, loud-mouthed sister comes forward to act like, well, a bitch.

Stay tuned next week for a double Blast! Monday will be a short write-up on the MTA and Tuesday will be the recap of the finale. See ya then!

7/18--Hometown Harmony

2011-07-19T18:22:00.000-07:00

This is Why I Get the Big Money, Kids!

It figures that with a season as depressing, mopey, and dour as this one, that we would get hometown dates that went swimmingly well. While the rest of Ashley's season as the Bachelorette has been about as interesting and fun as touring a landfill, the hometowns came off without a hitch. It was all smelling like roses, or bittersweet persimmons anyway, as Ashley finally gave up trying to ruin the Asian tourist trade and returned to the States to jaunt around and meet the families of the four guys she has left. And since Harrison had a bottle of scotch and an "important commitment" (see photo); Ashley starts us off with a look inside her very modest student apartment while she packs and recaps the guys for us. There are zero surprises as she highlights the men's strengths and we also see that Ashley fills another important qualification to be the Bachelorette: she has a piece of shit little dog. Now that's different.

My Big Fat Greek Family

Cumming, Ga.--First up is the twin brother of Vino Ben: Constantine Hercules, a guy way too normal for this show. Constantine, who hails from the Deep South, is Greek, but he happens to own an Italian Restaurant from some reason. I seem to remember that DeAnna, who is also Greek, came from the same part of Georgia. I wonder if there may be an enclave. Anyway, he meets Ashley by a lake in a park and they canoodle around on a park bench before Constantine takes her to his restaurant for some free advertising. They go to Giorgio's (Named after...Uncle Georgia?) and he guides her into the kitchen and they make a pizza. Stacking a pie with various ingredients, he fills his hands with mozzarella, looks at Ashley (but probably said to the director) "Is this cheesy enough?" Oh, you know it is, Dino. Once they're done, he takes her to the outside portion of the dining area so the restaurant waitresses can crowd around the window, ignore any other customers, and "ohh", and "aahh". The commercial over, its now over to mom and dads to meet the family. Awaiting them are Constantine's father, Dmitri, his MILFY mamma, Eleni, and his major league hottie sister, Maria. Mamma Eleni cuts straight to the chase and hauls Ashley aside and asks the big question: Since Constantine is a restauranteur and a local boy, would Ashley be willing to relocate? Ashley, smiling happily, assures mamma that in the one in a million chance she actually falls in love with her son, she'll be happy to relocate to Georgia, or frozen hell, whichever. Pleased, mama praises Ashley in a PI, and for some reason I'm surprised when I hear the Georgia twang from the Greek mama. I won't have that problem once daddy Dmitri gets going. Sounding like Zorba the Greek, pops tells Constantine to simmer down, and not to rush. Pops is solid. So is mom, and sis is hot. Great family. After dinner, when they get up to leave, the director cues the 4,000 Greeks they've had stashed in the garage and in comes My Big Fat Huge-Assed Greek Family. The living room is suddenly filled to bursting with every aunt, uncle, granny, and kiddie Greek you can imagine; they may have even borrowed a few of DeAnna's army of relatives, because if they didn't, Greeks must now make up the ethnic majority in Georgia. They spontaneously start Greek dancing, since its a well known fact that no more than 4 Greeks can get within 10 feet of one another without being require to dance and shout "Opa!" A fat uncle tosses cash everywhere as Ashley the dancer joins in and merry is had by all. Some 4 year-old Greek relative, showing wisdom beyond her years, stops dancing and collects the floating cash while Ashley parades around and is made an "Honorary Greek." Ashley and Constantine finally depart about 5 feet out onto the driveway, so half of the 4,000 Greeks can watch them share a tepid peck from the door and shout "Opa!" once more. Ashley gushes to the camera, "I've fallen in love with Constantine's family!" Ehh, Constantine not so much though. Date over.

The Eraser Head Goes for Broke and Comes Up Empty

Chadds Ford, Pa.--Yep, nothing snotty about that name of that town. Its on to the succulent meadows and meandering golf courses of Rich People, Pennsylvania; home of Ivy League Overeducated Finance 'bot, Eraser Head Ames; a guy who has grown on me as this season has progressed. I expected Ames to be from Money, how could he not be? And I wasn't disappointed either. As Ashley pulls up in this beautiful region, we see Ames throw us a curveball, however. Used to seeing him dressed like a yacht captain or a circus clown, Ames has raided Constantine's closet on the way out of Asia and goes for the rugged lumberjack look of flannel and jeans. Trying to show some macho, Ames waits on her and when she gets out of the SUV he jogs over and he, he....well,....that looked a bit gay there, Ames. Well not gay really, just a touch effeminate, especially with the baby blue boxers exploding out from around your waistband. C'mon son, I'm trying to cut ya a break here and you're not helping. Anyway, Ashley, transparent as ever, hugs him like what he is: a friend she kept around because he was a nice guy and fun to talk to. That's all. She had thrown the friend card down on him from the first night. Awaiting them is Ames' family: mother Jane, sister Serena, and his brother, Jim. The family senses Ames is in over his head almost at once. Sister Serena, immediately tells us she sees a light in Ames' eyes that lets her know he is thrilled, but sees nothing coming from Ashley. She sits her down and Ashley, to her credit, basically tells sis there is nothing between her and Ames without too much polite obfuscation. "Our relationship has developed much slower than the others." Sis nods and goes to find her brother. She tells him what Ashley said and tell him he better get moving if he wants a chance. Ames nods, and with his baby blue boxers sticking out everywhere, he takes Ashley to a magnolia tree in a beautiful park. The baby blues safely stashed behind denim, they sit among the soft falling petals of the magnolia with wine, brie, and caviar and Ames goes all poetic and starts saying outrageously smart things again. "I want Italian love. The Italians love ordinary love; they see the extraordinary in the ordinary." Ames lets us know he lost both father and stepfather and went to high school at a boarding school (surprise!) and was basically a very unpopular nerd. Ashley looks like she wants to hug him and whisper, "Sorry!" Firing his last bolt, Ames takes her for a horse and carriage ride along the Brandywine and still nothing. Shame, really. Date over.

A Family Still Reeling

Sonoma, Ca. Now that Ames is about to be dispensed, its obvious that unless something else goes tragically wrong from here on out, that Harrison, if he finishes with Minnie Mouse and the scotch, should just go ahead and be a no-show at the Rose Ceremony as well. But the visits continue anyway, and that means its time for Ashley the Former Lush to visit her dream area of North America: Wine Country. Sonoma, California, home of the first of the two fan-favorites, Vino Ben, is her next target. Ben greets her at his vineyard and they tour the fields and stop off at his wine storgage barn to taste the goods. Ashley, who was more drunk last season than any serious contender I've seen, must have gotten a load of herself on TV, remembered her alcoholic father living in the cardboard box, and called a halt. She has barely sipped anything this season, and has never looked even buzzed. That trend continues here, as she and Ben sip his vino but barely wet their lips. As rain falls, they crowd up on somebody's front porch and thus begins a series of pretty damn serious discussion, most of them centering around Ben and his passed away father. Ashley's eyes pop when she hears that she is only the second girl to meet his mom, and the "commitment phobe" red flags fly up her lanyard like a Hurricane Warning. Ben explains his insular nature since his father's death and Ashley asks tough--but fair--questions. Ben's explanations are given life when they go to meet his family. Greeting them nervously are his mom and sister, Julia; who looks a ton like last season's mortician-hottie, Shawntel Munster. Yum. But it turns out sis is one tough cookie. They never say if she is Ben's older or younger sister, but she sure acts like an older one. Sis expreses her doubts and even has a private get down with her brother, questioning the wisdom of this whole thing. Mom shows some pictures of her kids while she and Ashley talk about her passed husband and the effect it had on Ben and his sister. Truthfully, the most illuminating thing on the whole date was Ben's talk with his mother, where he apologizes for going AWOL on her and his sister when dad died. Its a good moment for the family, but I'm not sure its a great one for Ben and Ashley. The thing whole thing, pleasant and of a healing nature though it was, was loaded with potential red flags. Ben acts eaten up by guilt about how he acted and it would have been easy for Ashley to read some of his comments as being told she would always come behind mom and sis in his eyes. The date ends with Ben crying in a private interview about his father, but he's saved the pussy label because he cried about one of the few exemptions written into the International Mancode; crying about your passed father. Date over.

J.P.'s Terrified Family

Roslyn, N.Y.--Man; I'd love to know just what happened to J.P when his last relationship ended. In all the seasons I've watched this show, I've never seen a family more terrified that their guy is gonna' get dumped; and all of them finished every terrified cringe with the remark "...like happened last time!" Wow, J.P. The Human Grenade. But before we can get to their terrorfest, J.P. meets Ashley on Long Island near a duck pond and takes her to the roller rink. As they skate up, Ashley lets us know that she roller blades and figure skates, but is nervous about being on roller skates? Ok. Anyway, both she and J.P make it around the rink in apparent silence, while we at home are bombarded by Kevin Cronin and REO Speedwagon and their 30-year High School reunion favorite, I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore. How do I know this? Because the second J.P. takes a spill, the music abruptly stopped. How cheesy. They leave the rink with kisses all around and head over to the meet the ~~Bomb Squad~~ J.P's family. Dad Peter, who must be a mute, Mom Ilene, Brother Roy and his girlfriend, Andrea smile and greet them before things turn serious. Mom Ilene is the first to get breathless with fear. She sits her son down and does the 'ol "...like last time!" bit. J.P. assures her that he and Ashley have a deeper connection than she does with anyone else. Ashley moves into mom's terror seat and Mom trembles that J.P might get dumped. We never see what Ashley actually says to mom, but her fears are instantly allayed. Meanwhile, brother Roy is cringing in a sit down with his brother. "I'm afraid...like last time!" J.P assures him he is ready to get hurt if necessary while in the other room mom looks ready to throw a party and dad sits in his chair like a big lump. Ashley and J.P. talk and Ashley does express concern about why its been so long since J.P has been in a serious relationship since he's so old. Ouch! J.P just grins and shrugs again. Finally mom, now euphoric, whips out a huge framed photo of J.P.'s bar mitzvah that J.P. himself accurately pegs as looking like "Kirk Cameron." Date over

Cocktail Party
I see the wingman managed to shake loose from Minnie Mouse and he greets Ashley at the Bachelor Mansion and good lord, Ashley looks good in a supertight black dress. Wow, her best look of the season. They sit down and Ashley praises Constantine's family "best hometown by far!" and generally recaps what we just saw without a hiccup. Harrison bolts for the open door as she stands to deliberate and there is no sign of indecision this time.
Harrison and the boys wait in the next room and the only thing that looks different is Ben's hair. Obviously feeling penitent to mom, who had ragged his stringy locks at home, Ben has gotten a haircut, but I'm sure I like it any better than my wife did.

Roses:
1) Vino Ben--maybe red flags or not. Or a good setup as the next Bachelor. We'll see.

2) J.P. ~~The Human~~...the Skinhead--I better watch myself or his legions of wild-eyed female fans will lynch me.

Wingman: Ashley, gentleman, it's the last rise of the night. Ames, you are a unique person. I'll see you on Bachelor Pad, and I was NOT with Minnie Mouse!

3) Constantine Hercules--ho hum. "Is that rose for me? Really? I barely noticed."

Dumped: Eraser Head Ames, aw, damn, what a shame. Poor Ames starts looking around like Sunny Ryan popped out from behind a drape and punched him in the noggin again. The guy is stunned, and in a millisecond you can see the horrifying memories of being a nerd in a boarding school and the nightmare of a thousand wedgies come over his face. But maintaining his cool, Ames pastes his perma-grin on, and tries to wink at Ashley. She walks him out and he maintains the class, "You are an exceptional person," shakes her hand and gets into the limo. The guy is just crushed. Can't get mad at Ashley; there was just nothing there, but it's a shame. I'm sure there is a lot of sweetness being sent out to Ames, but most of the women I've spoken to about the guy like him like Ashley did; he's just not alpha male enough.
Although I've stayed away from the blizzard of spoilers on the net about Ashley's season, I have looked at the Bachelor Pad spoilers to see if I want to blog about this year. And lo and behold, who is there, but the Eraser Head. And according to what I saw, Ames gets himself a hook up, and damn if he doesn't seal the deal in true Ames fashion. Sally forth, Good Eraser Head and take not counsel of your boarding school fears, and when you're done plying her with you cultural erudition and poetry, how about knockin' the bottom of that a few times for your old redbeard. Remember, your Captain believes in you.

Next week: Off to Fiji for the Fantasy Dates. See ya then.

7/11--They Call Her the Wanderer

2011-07-12T16:18:00.000-07:00

Hey I got a cute idea: let's wander around, shall we? Just in case you were wondering; there it is, the entire script for all 10 Bachelorette episodes this season. Man, I hate to say this, especially since I like Ashley (she's sorta-a-little-kinda-hot, in that "maybe I could have actually scored with her when I was younger" type of way, as opposed to say, Emily Maynard; who if she saw me coming would leap to the other side of the street from a mile off. Yes, I mean she has her own teeth, her own boobs, and looks absolutely ridiculous in false eyelashes; but I like her. True, they have to hide her great huge forehead under professionally coiffed hair, and she gets a little nutso when she hits the sauce {which this season is NEVER!}, and she seems to have developed a sudden allergy to hot tubs, and the only kind of kissing she seems to do on camera is closed mouthed, chaste, and stiff, but I like her. I can't help it, I really do. She's bubbly; she's a regular gal; she's an extremely well-educated professional. True, her taste in men is worse than Mrs. Hannibal Lecter's, but I like her.) this season has sucked! Just to try and cheer myself up, I picture Executive Producer/Human Drain Field, Mike Fleiss, seated in his ritzy digs watching the final cut of these episodes with his forehead in his hands wailing, "Oh, Chantal! How could you desert me?" Its also cheering to imagine Chantal O'Brien handling the part instead of Ashley. Chantal, who spent her interim months after Brad dumped her, getting engaged to some lucky bastard in Seattle, probably sits on her fancy couch watching these episodes with said bastard and laughing, "Man, I would have assaulted that guy!" when Ashley offers up one of her tepid pecks; and damned easy to imagine said bastard raising a steely, Clark Gable-like eyebrow at her, and then assaulting her. Poor Fleiss. If Chantal had been on board, instead of hanging out with that lucky bastard, we wouldn't be wandering around Asia watching tepid pecks handed out sober on park benches. Eraser Head Ames would have smoke coming out of his ears, I'd bet. Poor us. Poor me.

Paging Dr. Howard; Dr. Fine; Dr. Sun Yat-Sen?

Well I better quit digressing (and fantasizing) and get to it. It is what it is. And what it is, is some strange commercial for Taiwan, which I didn't know needed any advertising. You may remember Taiwan; its the country that we used to call Nationalist China before Big China got pissed off and demanded we call them the "one and only China" or they would invade Taiwan and stop selling us shower clogs and rubber dog shit. Since many a U.S. president values the rubber dog shit market, we gave in. So, Taiwan is now just the little island off Real China's coast where I'm wishing Chantal O'Brien was this week instead of being assaulted on her couch by some lucky bastard. Regardless, Harrison is in the house, so we're go. Ashely starts off the episode by wandering around a few city squares and explaining to a new generation of Americans where we get our rubber dog shit from while the wingman gathers the boredom survivors and pimps for Taiwan's 100th Anniversary. Ok. The town-center-crowd-clearings paid for, the winger lays out the date line-up for the week: there will be three, 1-on-1 dates with no roses anywhere in sight; and one, terrible Group Date. Harrison packs the boys off and here we go.

Constantine Demonstrates Why He is Not the Next Bachelor

Yea, I was wrong. This guy's got too much sense to be the Bachelor. What's all this "Take it slow; let it happen naturally" shit? What a killjoy you are Hercules. C'mon, make like Sunny Ryan and fall in love halfway through one solo date. What the hell's the matter with you? You think this is some kind of wandering frat party? Look at your bromance buddy, Vino Ben; he's in the bubble. Stop being normal! Jeesh. Anyway, Constantine heads out to meet Ashley at a train station, but since we're Big Head Free for the first time this week (I won't say the name if you don't) that means we need a new, troubling sub-plot. And that sub-plot is J.P., The Skinhead, who winds up instantly into what will become an episode-long jealous tirade about how he is sick of sharing "his woman" with these other turds. (More on that later). Ashley picks up Constantine and takes him on a steam train ride to a tiny village inside the Taipei countryside. She whines about how slow her relationship with him has been as they ride through the jungle while Hercules plays it casual as usual. The arrive in Ping-Shi village where they, they wander around. He piggybacks her over to some paper lanterns and she forces him to paint their wishes onto them. They grab the lantern and head off while back at the freebie hotel another date card has arrived. Vino Ben scores another 1-on-1, much to the consternation of Sunny Ryan, who has scored nothing but irritation to this point, and the fury of J.P. Back at dinner, Ashley and Constantine eat and have a chat. Constantine makes all sensible and intelligent again. Boo! She finally quits grilling him and they share some closed-mouthed, stiff pecks and release their Wish Lantern. Right on the director's cue, a bunch of locals releases their lanterns skyward and it does look pretty cool. Date over.

Vino Ben Discovers "the Bubble"

Finally deciding to showcase some cool Asian vistas, Ashley takes Vino Ben to Taroko National Park to wander around amidst the gorges and skip bungee jumping on a suspension bridge. Ashley packs him off onto a moped and he drives them (gasp! No one tell DeAnna or Ali) the wrong way down a one-way into the park. They drive around on some scenic roads and he drools on her a bit. While Ben is scoring some tepid kisses on the no jumping suspension bridge, yet another Date Card arrives and tells Lucas, the Texas Cowboy, J.P. the Jealous Skinhead, and my man, Eraser Head Ames to get ready for a really crappy group date. Sunny Ryan finally gets his chance to dance around and spike one in the endzone when he does the math and figures out he gets the 1-on-1 at last. Ryan explodes with "Golly-Gee-isms" while we head back to Ashley and Ben. Darkness has fallen and Ben starts the evening by confessing to the camera that he is ready to be a Fleiss-stooge, "I'm falling in love with Ashley, but I'm not ready to tell her yet." Ouch. Best of luck, buddy. Ben earns some Argh! by showing some confidence and sounding very genuine about the whole thing. He confesses he is on the tipping point of falling in love and sounds like a coerced, but genuine dude. He gets close to the "L' word and Ashley grimaces. With her, that could mean she is horny, has cramps from the crab they ate, or thinks he needs to simmer down; I have no idea. But they kiss and we get some nice scenery. Date over.

Ames and Lucas Get Shafted

In a painful repeat of the time-wasting date that started this season involving future non-comedian, William the Wise in Las Vegas, the producers decide to stage some Taiwanese wedding photos that aren't going to happen either. Just to add some cruelty, two of the alleged "groomsman" are forced to dress like circus clowns, while the biggest crybaby in the group gets to dress like James Bond and picks up the rose anyway. Before they head out, J.P. gets a chance to mope and be a grouch. Vino Ben was deliberately held overnight in a separate room from Ashley just so he can come wandering in dressed like a smurf and set J.P. off like a firecracker. Ashley pimps for the local wedding photo industry and J.P. gnashes his teeth a little more. Lucas, the Cowboy comes out first dressed in a gold lame mu-mu. Yeah, that looked like fun. Unsurprisingly, Lucas thinks he got rooked. If he wants to feel better, he just needs to wait for Ames. The Eraser Head goes next and comes out dressed in some rental tux nightmare Adam Sandler would have refused to wear in the The Wedding Singer. It looked like a crackhead Liberace get-up, circa 1966. J.P. finally comes out dressed in a tailored black tux, just in case the other two aren't aware of their status in the pecking order. Ashley comes in dressed like a geisha, laughs at them, and poses with Lucas, who looks ready to open his veins. Lucas, who had the temerity to kiss her during the wedding photos, sets J.P. off again into another whining fit. Ames goes next and kisses Ashley in a tree. J.P. smolders, even though he gets a beach backdrop and Ashley dressed in a regular wedding dress. In the evening, they view their framed photos, and Ashley can't understand why the guys didn't love looking like tools. Lucas tells her he felt like an idiot. Ames whips out some private photos and shows even more chops and his world class brain. J.P. goes next and complains about the Group Date and shows off some jealousy. Whether this whole edit was designed to make us think J.P. is a normal guy who is (understandably) jealous over a girl he's fallen in love with or they are warning us that J.P. is going to move her to Alabama and beat the living shit out of her the first time she looks at the mailman, I have no idea. Regardless, what would've been "red flags" in any other guy makes her all squishy and she gets the rose for him. Date over.

Sunny Ryan's Bachelor Interview, Part 1

Damn, its sad when I can get inside the head of a dirtbag like Mike Fleiss, but I don't know who he thinks he's fooling. Not me, that's for sure. Solar energy dork, Sunny Ryan, who reminds me so much of perennial Bachelor constant, Jake, Cheesemachine Pavelka, it makes me nauseous, is ready for his interview and his 1-on-1 date at last. Wearing a five-o'clock shadow and pink shirt to go with his permanent grin, Ryan meets Ashley at the Taipei version of Tienanmen Square and they wander around. She takes him to a Buddhist temple where folks are lined up praying in surgical masks, letting us know the Avian Flu threat is not over in this part of the world. Ryan is just overwhelmed that people outside of the U.S. actually pray and he nearly breaks down foaming at the mouth. Big on making wishes this episode, Ashley takes him over to the Altar of the Matchmaking God so they can make a wish and toss some bricks on the ground to see if their wishes come true. Having the same luck that Constantine's Wish Lantern had in the credits when a dog pissed on it, Ryan tosses the bricks hoping for the augur of eternal love. Instead, the bricks make like an ancient Chinese proverb, land on the wrong side and tell him: Bricks say; YOU hit the bricks! Ryan stares at the bricks and tells us maybe that isn't a good omen. Yeah? Better than getting your Wish Lantern coated in dog piss, but probably not good. They then head over to a park where Ashley, desperate for anything to speak with this clown about, asks about his environmentalism. He peps right up and bores the hell out of her with a long-winded lesson on the virtues of tank less water heaters. Letting us know she knows and cares nothing about environmentalist whackos, Ashley winds up and dumps him. Ryan stares at her and thus begins a truly horrible performance of heartbreak that must have had Pavelka filing a lawsuit for copyright infringement. Despite the fact that they shaved nearly thirty-minutes off this episode so Harrison could get a load of circuitous and incomplete answers from Emily Maynard about her bust-up with Brad Womack, we still had plenty of time to see Ryan run into the bushes, sit on a park bench and break down into not one, not two, but three--standing and sitting, Full-Mesnicks! He whined, hyper-ventilated, told us he thought Ashely was "The one!" after less than one date alone with her where she dumped him, and blubbered like a GIANT VAGINA. Knowing the sadistic editors and fiendish producers like I do, I'm sure this performance caused a sizable portion of the 18-49 female demographic sweet spot audience to cry "Awwwwww!" while I cried "Owwwww!" Ashley finally got rid of him but followed up the dump with some painful words, "Looking into his eyes, I'm not sure I made the right decision." Thanks for the foreshadowing so we won't be shocked if he mysteriously shows back up for part two of his interview. God help us, and date over.

Quick Axe So We Can See Emily

No cocktail party needed, Harrison lines the remaining five down and sets them up as Ashley comes in and gets right to work.

Already safe: J.P. the Jealous Skinhead.

1) Constantine Hercules--Mr. Normal will take her to Georgia.

2) Vino Ben--Deep in the bubble and on his way to the vineyards with her.

Enter wingman: "Ashley, gentleman, this is the final rose tonight; hurry up so we can interview Emily and the boss can curse bog that she didn't dump Brad before we started filming."

3) Eraser Head Ames--score it.

Dumped: Lucas, the Texas Cowboy for not wanting to wear a lame dress frock and failing to show the necessary cultural sensitivity.

Next Week: Hometowns

Emily Interview: Didn't want to be there, didn't want to discuss her private affairs, which proves she is either a liar or those people who think she wants to the next Bachelorette are crazy. I'll believe her and respect her wishes and continue not writing about she and Brad.

6/27--Hong Kong Phooey

2011-06-28T17:04:00.000-07:00

Number 1 Super Guy!

Thrills! Chills! Mind bogging highs and death-defying plunges into troughs of despair! Yes, it's time for another week on the bi-polar roller coaster known as Ashley Hebert. The Bachelorette who's up!--she's down!--she's chirpy!--she's bawling!--she's optimistic!--she's destined to die a lonely old spinster! My stomach was so roiled by following her around through every soaring leap and sudden 90* plunge that I had to take Dramamine halfway through the episode. If a storm hadn't hit and knocked my satellite offline, I don't think I could have made it. This week, the Coaster visited the crowded, smelly, hellhole of Honk Kong, China; the place where they must have filmed Blade Runner; futuristic, flashing with neon lights like a House of Horrors, and covered in a permanent mist/smog. I was glad my TV doesn't have a "smell-o-rama"chip in it. Even the Dramamine wouldn't have stopped the retching if it had. Often this show edits people until they are unrecognizable to even their own families. Well that's one thing we don't have to fear in regards to Ashley. This is twice we've seen her and one thing couldn't be any clearer: this broad is nuts!

Dot, Dot, Dot...Period!...Until Ashley Starts Talking Again.

As the episode open with all the necessary Bentley recaps hammering away, Ashley handles the promo spot for the Hong Kong Chamber of Commerce while at a building rooftop, Harrison greets the roving frat party and covers this weeks product-placement gimme', the Conrad Hotel. Harrison sports for the hotel as they overlook one of the world's most important centers for commerce and world trade. Yawn.
Whose daffy-assed idea was this? Hong Kong, City of Romance? Since when? Maybe Eraser Head Ames got all giddy being this close to so much action on the Nikkei Exchange, but for the rest of the world, the only people who think Hong Kong and Romance together in the same sentence are young entrepreneurs trying to get venture capital for a tech startup. It's the size of a postage stamp and inhabited by 2 billion people who managed to escape being raped by Chinese Commies only by being raped by British Imperialists instead. The only thing good about this location was giving me an excuse to include a picture of one of the most underrated superheroes of all time: Hong Kong Phooey; the only dog ever to change into a superhero inside a filing cabinet and the only one to store his supercar in a dumpster. Regardless, its dating time. But first...

Douchebag on Parade

Before the boys can get too deep into enjoying being trapped in a high rise marvel, its time to address the focal point of the entire season to this point: Big Head Bentley. And Ashley's mad this guy wasted so much of her time? How about my time, Ashley? You think you're pissed. Anyway, with the recap in the rear view, Harrison hustles down to Ashley's room to let her know that Cranium the Colossus is in the hotel and ready to see her. Ashley nearly faints with joy and makes it until the commercial break before she charges down to see him. The editing axe struck this scene so thoroughly it was hard to make head or tails from it. Basically, you get the feeling that Bentley was only too happy to come back and get a free trip to Hong Kong out of the deal. In between, he laced her with mixed signals (a hand on her leg, a smile, an offer to see her in Utah "if things don't work out.") while committing to nothing. She finally presses him into a corner and he pretty much tells her she needs to hook up with someone on the show. Ashley's face falls and she starts to get angry. "Why did you come back? Why didn't you just call? If you came on this show for the reasons Michelle Money said you did, just to mess with me and get me to fall for you, then mission fucking accomplished!" Argh! At last! She is blind but now she can see. Realizing she's been played, Ashley storms out and drops a string of F-bombs in her wake. The producer's seem to dig her profanity because they stage an interview where she snarls at the camera, "I'm done with you! Fuck you, Bentley!" But don't get too worried, folks, she'll be deliriously happy again in mere minutes. One of the perks of Ashley. She changes like the weather. She hits the door on the way out while Bentley sits there smirking like an ass and probably planning his wild vacation itinerary of visiting a few venture capital firms. What a D-bag. I would have been relieved had I not heard his name 50,000 more times in the episode. It's also important to remember for later that if Bentley had come back to rejoin the cast, she would have taken him back in a Hong Kong minute. Keep that in mind for later, when almost every guy on the show pops a rivet when she finally tells them she fell for Bentley.

Let's...Let's Wander Around Some More.

The wingman, exhausted from working hours on end to secure Bentley's free vacation, lets Ashley feed us the date line up for the week. There will be two, 1on1's, and one Group Date this week. The boys read the card back at the Conrad and we hear that Lucas the Enigma is about to drop the Enigma and step out into the light. Universally despised (especially by me) Sunny Ryan, predicts Lucas' doom; which means he's in for a rose. Ashley promptly takes him to downtown Hong Kong to wander around a little more. Ashley is now fully recovered, she happily informs us and drops a few hundred more "Bentley's". Having nowhere interesting to go and very little to do, the Hong Kong Chamber of Commerce arranges for a Chinese Parade Dragon to meet them in a city square and put on a little show. Cosmopolitan Ashley, who has marveled to Lucas that Hong Kong is like New York(inside a snow globe) watches the Dragon, laughing. Lucas, the West Texas Cowboy, stares at the thing like its from outer space, tells us he has never been to New York, and looks like he wants to whip out his grandaddy's 4-10 shotgun and blast it. They then wander over to some seedy street vendors and sample the local exotic cuisine...just like Ashley did with both Ben and Constantine. They eat what we are told are pig intestines and Lucas scowls and asks for a hamburger. I must be a rednecked peckerwood like Lucas. I've never been to New York either and I would have asked for a hamburger too. At some point, Ashley leads Lucas out onto a gaily lit junk that's moored in Hong Kong Harbor and they eat some real food. Or try to. I'm sure the smell from 15 centuries of people dumping crap into that polluted harbor could have knocked a buzzard off a shitwagon, but they give it a try. Mostly though, they let Lucas loose the enigma and talk about his divorce a little more. He finishes by telling her, "God has a plan for me." Ashley, whom reports insist is a devoted atheist, must have wondered like I did why god wanted Lucas to get divorced, but whatever. He gives us no details why they got divorced except that they fell out of love. Thanks for the nitty gritty. Lucas seems a solid guy, but man is he boring. He then (in his boring, courtly, southern gentlemanly way) asked to kiss her and they go at it with less heat than West Texas cousins. So, to sum up: compatibility? No. Chemistry? Ha, you jest. Rose? Sure, why the hell not? Ashley is nearly 50% Bentley-free and in a giddy mood. She pins the flower on him and he shows us that West Texas oil field wildcatters know cliches too: "Mannn, that thar was the best 1st date a maaah lifeeee!" Yee-haw. Date over.

Dragon Boat Racing

Ok, I'm not gonna' wreck em too bad here; at least they tried to do something fun. Awkward but fun, but at least they tried; which is a helluva lot more than they've been doing most of this season. Ashley, dressed like MaryAnn from Gilligan's Island gone horribly wrong, meets the boys at the beach, splits them into three teams, and tells them they are going to row Dragon Boats in a race, but first they will have to recruit crews from the locals to help out.
The Teams are:
Red Team: Consisting of the look-a-like twins, Vino Ben and Constantine Hercules, who seem to have a major bromance in the works.
Blue Team: With sworn enemies, Blake, the smarmy dentist, and relentlessly chipper asswipe, Sunny Ryan.
Black Team: Consisting of failed boxers Mickey Finn, and Eraser Head Ames.

All three groups head off into the market square and try to recruit team members to help them crew their boats. Romantic? Uh, no. But potentially fun, which is more than we can say for the last month of this show. Sunny Ryan, using his sunshiny entremanureialship, quickly signs an English-speaking, professional Dragon Boat crew. Mickey and Ames wander around and I was honestly disappointed Ames didn't break out the local lingo and sign an Olympic-caliber Dragon Boat crew and get his own tech startup financed while he was it. But no. They do however, put together a fair squad. Bromancers Constantine and Ben meanwhile, struggle around and try and sign on couples because everyone knows women make such fantastic competitive boat oarsmen. Huh? Anyway, they quickly realize that A) this whole thing is stupid, and B) they suck at it, so they decide to go buy some loud robes and just have fun. Arriving on the beach, Ben and Constantine appear in silky, fire-engine red robes that look like Hefner's pajamas and bring with them a herd of about thirty middle-aged Chinese women. They crew their boats and off we go. Ashley rides on the bow of one of the boat's still dressed like MaryAnn gone wrong while Ryan and Blake and their professional crew take off like rockets. Ames and Mickey try and stay even but fall back quickly while Ben, Constantine, and their 30 Chinese grandmothers get "smoked like a salmon." Once they are all safely back on dry land, some couple down the beach seems to have gotten engaged so they can help Hong Kong with their overpopulation problem a little more. Roller Coaster Ashely sees this as another hopeful augur that someone will eventually marry her and heads UP! for the moment. They head to after boat race party back at the hotel lounge and give all the boys a chance to curse Ryan for being a dickweed. They show pretty much everyone who is left comment on what a wearisome piece of work Ryan is, so we can prepare ourselves for when he gets the rose. Before Ryan gets rosed for being fake, Eraser Head Ames takes Ashley into the elevator and WHOA! Looks who's drunk? Bout damn time! Not since night 1, when Tim the alcohol salesman overtested his wares, have we seen anyone tipsy and I'll be damn if it isn't the Eraser Head! Ames takes her into the elevator with a snifter of brandy, presses the button for the 48th floor, drops the effeminate Iy League manners and WHOA! He mauls her! The elevator stops on the 21st floor and some shocked Chinese had to have their shouts edited out:
"Disgusting Americans! Get a room!"
Ames calmly presses the 48th floor button and dives on her again, tonguing his way all the way to the 48th floor observation deck. I've been hard on this guy but he's clearly changed his ways! Props to the Eraser Head! I'm so pleased by his performance I'm even gonna' skip the puke-inducing recap of Ryan getting the date rose for being a fake.

Your Only Romance for the Last 5 Weeks

While the boating action done, a date card has arrived and Lucas, the texas Cowboy reads off the name of J.P., the skinhead. With some closure on the Bentley mess finally delivered, this date should be critical. Now this was the part my DVR skipped when the satellite went out and I went online to day to watch this. I ca't remember a whole lot about where they went and what they did, but I remember the important part. I have given up trying to guess about the loony editing this show has spouted the past few seasons, but what I saw sure looked like a firm frontrunner staking his claim. The dinner part was the most instructive when Ashley finally told J.P. about her Bentley obsession. J.P takes it calmly and takes an optimistic stance, thanking Ashley for being honest and glad she has gotten closure. What's clear is to just what extent this guy digs her and damn if it didn't look mutual. J.P swears he's never felt a connection this strong in his entire life and Ashley exclaims that J.P. is the most handsome man in the entire world! Really? The Jewish skinhead from Long Island? Hey, different strokes and all that, but this was really sweet. No acting appeared to be in the effort either. These two looked like they forgot about the cameras and went goo-goo over each other. Roller Coaster UP! But I am unspoiled, so this could all be misdirection edit for all I know. But it looked cool anyway. Rose? Zero doubt. Date over.

The Men Grow a Few Pairs!

The cocktail party begins, and Ashely, fresh off two successful dates, is UP! for the moment. Careful, young lady, you're about to meet one of the 90* hairpin dives. She marches into the party brimming with confidence and can't wait to unburden herself about the Bentley affair to all the men. Hey, I'm sure she thought, "J.P. took it well." Wrong move. All men are different on this score, and the fact that J.P. took it so well is that he appears to be in love with you, Ashley. The rest? Eh, not so much. She sits down among them and tells them the cold truth about Bentley. "I had fallen for him. I suffered through this more than you knew. Since he left, half of my heart has been with him." Faces fall. Constantine Hercules strikes first, "The one on one date we had, we spoke of honesty; this seems to contradict that."
Lucas the Cowboy: "Why did you wait to tell us!"
Blake, who has had no 1 on 1 at all, gets to hear that Bentley got a 1 on 1 in a hotel room. He is mad, as is Mickey Finn, Vino Ben, even Ames seems somewhat displeased. They're all mad except J.P., who appears smitten with her, and Mr. Fake Ryan. Intercuts show Private Interviews and these guys are livid, especially Lucas. "I hate it when people waste my time! And she has wasted my time!"
Ashley bolts away bawling and then sits down 1-on1 with many of them to hear how pissed off they are. Blake strikes hard: "Why am I even here? I haven't had a 1-on-1 and you don't seem to care about me at all!"
Sunny Ryan gets her alone and kisses her hand, her cheeks, her ass; any part of her so he can get the rose. Not normal, folks. J.P defends her much like he is defending a lady he obviously considers "his woman." Props to the Skinhead; he did the right thing. The rest aren't as close to her and all feel like yesterday's dogbreakfast. Men don't like feeling like the 2nd choice anymore than women do, maybe even less. We have giant egos. Ryan and his fake shtick merely prove how fake he is. He should have been pissed off. I also saw Ashley look at him suspiciously for the first time while he tried to schmooze her. Every other guy except J.P., who was told privately, is as mad as a hornet or at least disheartened. Not Ryan. No, the cheesmachine wanna-be is just burbling all over her about how wonderful she is. If you doubt me, Dear Reader, remember who warned you about Jake Pavelka from his 1st night on this show. It's more than editing; every one of the 8 remaining guys have said they don't like Ryan, but his story arc so strongly resembles Jake's it makes me nauseous! (Don't do it Fliess!) Mickey Finn, who may have been on the chopping block or not, has had enough. He sits down with her and basically says he's through. Ashley tells him to get moving then. The editors were all over this but Mickey had seen enough and departs. He climbs into the boat and sails off on the polluted harbor as the other men stand in salute above a rail and raise their fists to him. It makes me wonder if the producer's didn't start to move forcefully to stave off an exodus. Lucas already had a rose, but looks ready to chuck it into the harbor and go with Mickey. Ashley races in and apologizes her ass off bawling to help stem the tide. She was trying to be honest and didn't feel she could be until the matter was resolved. Hey Harrison, Fliess, this is your faults! You didn't need to let her stew a month. She was in a no-win situation and it blew up in her face. Props Ashley, you did you best. Props J.P., you defended her without denouncing the other guys for being justifiably pissed off. Props Mickey Finn for having a strong enough sense of worth to hit the bricks. Considering the reactions of the men, if anyone here is engaged to her besides J.P., I'll be stunned.

Already Safe: J.P., the Chivalrous Skinhead; Lucas the Texas Cowboy; Ryan the Douche.

Roses:
1) Vino Ben--not sure where his heads at.
2) Constantine--This guy isn't even slightly invested in Ashley.
3) Eraser Head Ames: becoming a pirate favorite.

Next Week: Hell, I don't know; they didn't say.

6/20--The Big Head Bentley Chronicles, Week 5

2011-06-21T12:33:00.000-07:00

Wanted: Murderer! Kills Victims By Boring Them To Death! Even When He's Absent!

The Nation Pleads For Mercy!

Thailand Bore Job!

Did you ever realize, Dear Reader, just how little there must be to do in Thailand? I didn't. The land known for cheap drugs, cheap brothels, and underage hookers deserves better than this. I'll bet Harrison and the crew had a helluva time. Shame the same can't be said for the audience, or the unlucky suckers who got trapped on this seesaw roller coaster with Ashely Hebert, who is obviously off her meds. I realize this show is a ridiculous Victorian-era fantasy, aimed squarely at women in the 18-49 advertising sweet spot, but there must be something more to do there than wander around open air markets and mope about some asshole who's not even on the show anymore. Hey Fleiss, since you had a crazy Bachelorette, why didn't you make the most of it? Hell, she's not even drunk! And this is Ashley we're talking about here! She was the drunkest contestant to ever survive the first night meltdown in the history of this show last season when she went all crazy and bombed on Brad Womack. And the scenery? This could have been filmed on the Warner Brothers backlot. Or at Epcot. You went all the way to Thailand so we could see interior shots of a hotel and a swimming pool?What's the problem; does Thailand have no helicopters, no scenic waterfalls, no bungy-jumping bridges? What the hell's wrong with you, man? You're boring us to death! I haven't even seen this loony broad in a hot tub! All she does is mope. Hey, Harrison, put down the base pipe, get that 15 year-old stripper off your lap and show Ashley the damn tapes of Bentley or I'm gonna' hunt you down! I can't take much more of this! Poor Thailand; its now known as the place where people with no lives go to die in the rain. How ironic. The People of Vietnam are wiping their collective brows that the United States let them off easy. Hah! What's a few thousand B-52 raids? At least we aren't suffering like Thailand!

Lets Talk Some More About Bentley

I have a better idea: lets not! But apparently there is no escaping the whining about prize catch, Bentley Williams and his enormous skull. Ashley, hopping on the schizophrenic bandwagon early, assures us she feels better and is over Bentley now, before mentioning him 63,000 times during the episode. As a a matter fact, she has infected my brain with her madness. Don't be shocked if her subliminal Bentley banter breaks through onto the pages on my blog. I'll do my best, but be on your guard. Anyway, the boys are shown boarding buses to the airport for a flight deeper inside Thailand. Once they are ensconced into this week's product-placement gimme', we get a video tour of this part of Thailand. Eraser Head Ames breathlessly relates that Thai monks wear saffron robes. Out of the closest with you, already! Harrison stumbles inside the gimme' and tees up the night's line up before heading back to the Boom-Boom garbage dump for another round of shots. Turns out there will be one, 1-on-1 date, one group date, and one of the infamous 2-on-1-prepare-to-be-ejected dates. Harrison, smiling like the luckiest bastard on earth, dumps the card on the table and evaporates. Sunny Ryan fills in as the producer cockblock of the week to tell us just how badly he wants the 1-on-1 date, just so we can hear that it goes to Vino Ben.

Lets Just Wander Around Aimlessly

Ashley, still whining her ass off, picks Ben up and they head to downtown Mai Lai or whatever the place is named. They stumble around an open air market we could have seen in Santa Monica and...and shop for fruit? I have no idea what they are doing besides being boring. Poor Ben, the producer's must have him confused with his look-a-like, Constantine. He gets the exact same crappy date. They wander across the square of the town and have a seat (but do not dare enter) a Thai monastery of some sort and sit out front. This holy place outside that holy place is a No Kissing Zone, so Ashley and Ben make like two horny junior high school students at the back of their algebra class and "pretend kiss". (Insert your own rude comment; I shouldn't have to.) Mercifully, night falls and Ashley takes Ben to some outdoor amphitheater thingy where they sit on the ground ringed by flowers and have a conversation. Ben talks about the loss of his father and how insular it made him.

"I realized I was being selfish and changed my ways."

"That's fascinating ~~Bent~~...I mean, Ben."

Ben goes on about being an amateur vinter and Ashley only keeps herself awake by sketching her new name, "Mrs. Bentley Williams", on the table while he talks.

"I was an emotional zombie after his death--so I started making wine."

I wonder if Bentley will make me quit being a lush since he's Mormon.

"Ashley, are you listening to me?"

Fleiss sends in some half-naked Geisha dancers to spew fireballs to keep Ashley awake and she and the very normal and quite likable, Ben, exchanged some disinterested kisses. One very boring date: over.

The Beating of an Android

Well, don't forget your blood pressure meds, folks, cause its about to become Excitement City over there in Thailand. The producers, breaking their arms patting themselves on the back over Ali's Olive Oil Wrestling matches in Turkey two season's back, decide to up the ante and make Ashley's disinterested suitors full-contact karate each other. This was actually pretty entertaining; at least the parts of it we got to see were. Ashley was certainly given a buff, in-shape bunch to ignore. No Gummy Bear body's like Palooka Craig in this bunch, and the only true beanpole in the cast, William the Wise, is being saved for sacrifice later. That means, Sunny Ryan; Mickey Finn; J.P., The Skinhead; Lucas the Enigma; Blake, the Smarmy Dentist; Nick and His Horrible Hair Highlights; Eraser Head Ames; and Constantine Hercules are going to be sent into the ring to pummel one another.

Ashley greets them at a Muy Thai boxing gym where the boys are put through some legitimate-looking paces by some hardassed Thai instructors. Say what you will, but these jokers are in shape, not just pretty boys. Push-up contests complete, they are loaded into the back of an unglamorous van and taken to a public boxing ring. They unload and see two real Thai boxers going at it. One slips his opponent, and throws a mean-looking back elbow to the face and KO's his competitor. The sound of swallowing can be audibly heard from the boys. Ashley starts to mumble her own doubts about the wisdom of this contest as well: Thank god Bentley isn't here! He might get his hair mussed!

The producers, sadistic, but not (yet) homicidal maniacs, pair the boys up by relative size and here we go:

Lucas the Enigma vs. Blake the Smarmy Dentist:

This one was a great start; a tough Texan from the oil fields against a dentist, but the dentist is ripped and appeared no stranger to the ring. They both show good chops, but Blake starts landing heavy blows quickly and scores a 1-round TKO. Props to the suit-filler. That was pretty good. Props to the Texan as well. He man's up with no hesitation: "He put me down--put me down hard too!" Cool. Ashley greets Lucas as he staggers out of the ring: "You did really well, too." I'm sure that made him feel loads better, Ash. Tell him size doesn't matter while you're at it.

Mickey Finn vs. J.P., the Skinhead:

What looked like an early mismatch with the 5'9" or so, 185 lbs. or so, Mickey with the clear advantage over the 5'6" 165 or 70, J.P. quickly becomes a fight. Mickey scores early and hard but swings himself out in no time and J.P. comes rallying back with some solid shots and a kick to the ribs to score a TKO. Well done, men! J.P. gets to stress in a private interview that the "Long Island Jewish Boy KO'd the Irish Kid." Wow, despite Ashley's moping, this is starting to look pretty good.

Sunny Ryan and Eraser Head Ames:

The comic relief portion of our evening. Sunny Ryan, the insincere solar energy dork takes on the sushi-eating finance 'droid, Eraser Head Ames. Ames, suitably attired in pink trunks and gloves, mewls in private interviews that he has never been in a fight in his life. Ryan the dork, on the other hand, must have spent endless hours trying to protect himself from bullies. They start and Ames barely moves from his corner. Ryan closes in, and doubtlessly still smiling, starts swinging away. One miraculously lands on Ames' headgear and Ames grips his huge protoskull and all but says, "Owwwweeey!" They skip through the myriad of missed punches and holding as the fight ends and Ames is defeated on points. Stumbling from the ring, the permanent grin missing from his face, Ames sits down on the bench staring sightlessly ahead.

Blake prompts my impending excitement: "Now its time for the heavyweights!"

Nick and His Horrible Hair Highlights vs. Constantine Hercules:

Nick and Constantine, both somewhere in the neighborhood of 6' 4', about 225 or 230 pounds get set to do battle and I order up a bowl of popcorn from the Wench Queen, who tells me to get stuffed, I can get my own. The bell rings and the boxing...vanishes? What!? Yep, I'm sad to report that it was time for an endless montage of Eraser Head Ames staring sightlessly ahead and drooling into his own lap. Oh, c'mon Fleiss! Really?! We needed to see Ashley running to summon a Ring Doctor and a stretcher cam view up Ames' tutu into his junk box? Fine, fine, but put the damn boxing back on! Nope, we get two nanoseconds of the fight--one showing Constantine landing a body shot, and another as he gets his hand raised in victory as Nick stands there smiling, clearly beaten but unbowed. Wow, all so I can see Ames' jockstrap? This show leads the world in suckatude. No matter, I'll catch the finals now that Ames is in the hospital.

Uh, no. The boxing is gone, replaced by Ashley's continued whining about Ames and You Know Who. Beautiful. Turns out, there was more boxing, we just weren't shown it. Spoilers say that Blake took on Ryan in the finals and KO'd him. The spoilers also say that before that, J.P. and Constantine decided to "bow out." I think that's a delicate way of saying that J.P. took a glance at the bracket match-ups, looked at Constantine realizing he sported him about 8 inches and 50 lbs of anodized steel muscles and shouted "Ohhh, Fuck That!" The producers, their ambulance quota filled for the night and desperate to keep alive the one man Ashley has shown middling interest in, called off the massacre. Shame though, it would have been cool to follow J.P.'s severed, shaved head on its ballistic arc as it cratered into the Mexican desert after Constantine punched him. This show is just a Debbie Downer this season, I swear. Anyway, Ashely takes them back to the gimme' hotel and they sit around the pool. Sunny Ryan gets to confirm the spoilers by showing off some facial swelling we KNOW Ames never caused, and Blake, his face completely unmarked, gets the date rose. Ashley spends the whole time mewling about Ames and how worried she is about him and the rest of her time....oh, I think you know. Ames does manage to put in an appearance and confirms the doctors have successfully reattached his grin and have diagnosed him with a slight concussion. How? He was wearing a headgear rig and Ryan was wearing 12 lb. gloves? Mike Tyson shouldn't have been able to concuss him with that gear. Not to mention the fact that Michelle Money hit the toilet seat rim harder last season when she passed out dead drunk than Ryan hit Ames. I guess it didn't take much to knock Ames' positronic brain matrix askew. Its at this time that several of the boys hit Ashley with some long overdue straight talk. Her insecurities in bloom, she asks a few leading questions and gets some blunt answers. Blake tells her that to this point, he's gotten nothing from her, and when she asks Constantine if he has bonded more with the other guys than with her, he says, "I'd have to say yes. We haven't spent enough time together." Constantine is then showed holding court with the lads and saying with sincerity, "Hey, its true. If by the time the families are called into this, if I can't say there is a strong connection, then well...I mean meeting my family is serious business to me." I know that some other bloggers think this guy is boring (Hey, look at what he's working with here!) but as far as I'm concerned, this guy is a straight-up normal guy. Hey Fleiss, there's your next Bachelor! The guy is handsome, honest, and appears to be a leader. Skip the cheesmachine wanna-be's and disingenuous grinners: Hire him!

Poling Ashley on a Raft

When the boxers were called to stand to, two names were conspicuously absent: Jowly Ben Chipmunk and Cheesemachine avatar, William the Wise. Linear Trigonometry is not required to see that they will be the victims of the two-on-one somebody-can-suck-it date. She meets them at some zoo park called "Elephant Life Experience" whatever the hell that is so we can see constant irritant, William, planning Ben's downfall. They pole her down a river on a flat raft and the second he gets Ashley alone, 'ol Cheesy starts poisoning the well against Ben. "Well, I just heard from others that Ben molests small furry animal in his spare time and was actually part of the Nixon Administration." Ashley waits scarcely a minute before she sits them both down and cuts Ben immediately. I was thinking Ben was getting the bums rush there for a minute until he all but confirms that he has been pondering aloud how much he's gonna' score in the online dating scene thanks to this show. Will gleefully rubs his hands together like a modern-day Simon Legree, delighted that he has sabotaged his competition, but a smile is coming to my lips as we hear Ashley say rather nastily that William thinks he's safe for some reason. Pretty easy to see what's coming now and also easy to see how and why William escaped elimination for 2 weeks after the Roast debacle; she wanted to do it in person. Over dinner, she tells the disingenuous dork, "I've been wanting to see if that spark was still there, but its not." Will goggles at her and she coldly tells him, "I'll walk you out!" Ha! Ha! Good one, Ash. Best move of the first four weeks by far. Nothing like the 'ol double-dump. William, ever the loser, decides to mine Ashley's playbook and run himself into the ground by decrying what a zero he is. And I thought she sounded pathetic. Sheesh! Au Revoir, Cheesemachine wanna-be...and don't let the limo door hit you on the way out. Enjoy your trip back to cell phone salesman hell.

Yes, Yes, Just Call the Son of a Bitch Back!

Unable to stand anymore of Ashley's whining about Bentley, the producers pry Harrison loose from whatever legal trouble I'm sure he was in and send him into the pow wow room to lead Ashley to the conclusion that Big Head Bentley must be brought back. I never thought I'd say it: but I'm happy he's coming back. The sooner I see him again, the quicker I can stop seeing and hearing about him forever!

Already Safe: Vino Ben and Blake, the Smarmy Dentist

Roses:

1) Constantine--damn right!

2) Lucas, the Enigma--damn right again!

3) J.P., the Skinhead--Got to keep his head.

4) Eraser Head Ames--Thank you for wearing a blue blazer to a flannel shirt evening filled with manly warrior-types.

5) Mickey Finn--Got KO'd but hangs on another week.

6) Sunny Ryan--1 and 1, but got a KO. Yeah, it was over Ames, who a piano teacher could have ko'd, but we'll count it.

Dumped: Heavyweight contender Nick and His Horrible Hair Highlights. Faces the specter of a return to being a "personal trainer" flirted with by 60 year-old married women. I'd cry too, bub.

Next Week: The polluted, overcrowded hellhole of Hong Kong and the return of Godzilla, the flame breathing douchetard. See ya then.

6/13-This Week's Forecast: Painfully "Sunny" with a 100% Chance of Bentley

2011-06-14T21:02:00.000-07:00

Meet Bilbo Douche-Baggins

What does one call a giant-skulled, hairy-headed and malicious hobbit?

I suppose it was inevitable. Mike Fleiss and his seedy gang know that bad boys sell. Just when I thought we were free of the flea known as Big Head Bentley, he just hangs around and rains on the parade. There's going to be no avoiding this guy. Speaking of rain, I have two words for whatever booking agent Fleiss hired to plan this year's trips: Monsoon Season. Look it up; read it; memorize it. Anyway, with this season probably already busted, no matter how much Bentley-drama is tossed our way, we should at least get a nice a view of Asia. Well we would if it were not Monsoon Season! It rains less in Seattle, Fleiss. What's next, summer frolics in the Persian Gulf? Long cuddly January evenings in Antarctica? Buy an atlas, you idiot.

The Wingman Gets a Wild Hair!

Yes, yes. Chris Wingman Harrison comes stumbling into the mansion, levels the hangover gang with a steely glare and announces:

"Ashley and I don't think we can have a clean start here, so pack your bags--we're leaving the mansion for good! Our first stop is Phuket, Thailand!"

The boys jump for joy because they also have no idea its Monsoon Season! in Thailand. That wild and crazy Harrison, a forest full of wild hairs sticking out his ass, running around and planning overseas adventures alone with Ashely. You crazy kids. I'll bet you had the producers in a wild scramble trying to book a flight. Say what you will about Harrison, but this guys middle name should be spontaneous. I'm starting to think they only do bits like this in the off chance some person in a coma might suddenly awake bursting out laughing at the stupidity of it. Anyway, the boys whoop and holler and quickly board a charter.

Ashley is already waiting for them, lounging back in a Thai junk as it floats over emerald green water, her bikini top in full display as she catches a few rays of Monsoon! That looked natural. Rain spatters her as the helicopter swings around and some stagehand screams over a bullhorn for her to hold the pose despite the driving downpour. Hey, nobody said paying off those Dental School loans was gonna be easy, dear. As the boys all whoop it up off the airplane and check into a beachside bungalow, Ashley visits this week's product-placement gimme, a place called The Renaissance--a spa and resort in Phuket. Ashley makes like a local and dresses like a Thai prostitute and has a sit-down with some hapless Asian woman at the front desk of the The Renaissance. The poor woman--whose desk plate insisted she was "The Navigator"--sounded like she spoke all of three words of English. No matter, Ashley was supposed to be planning her dates in Thailand. You know the dates I mean, the ones that have been planned for months. To keep up the fiction, Ashley sits down and asks what there is to do in Thailand. The Navigator gets her lines cut. Good thing too. "Nothing during Monsoon Season, stupid American bitch! What? You want malaria? Go put some clothes on! We don't let hooker-girl work here!" Satisfied she has some amazing dates planned, Ashley departs in another downpour.

Constantine Speaks at Last...Then Won't Shut Up.

Back at the crashpad, the first date card has arrived and J.P., the Skinhead hops up and reads off the name of Constantine Hercules. The formerly silent one gets his chance to speak. Seeing the weather rolling in, he doesn't even bother to dress up. Wearing orange baggies and a tank top, an umbrella toting Constantine wanders outside to meet an umbrella-carrying Ashley. Ashley tells him they are supposed to go kayaking or something that's never gonna happen. To try and con the audience that Monsoon Season just showed up unexpectedly at the last second, Fleiss sends some tiny Thai dude to come running up to tell them that the monsoon will unexpectedly cancel the date Ashley worked so hard to plan. The poor old joker doesn't speak a work of English and after messing with subtitles a minute, he resorts to gestures that say: Boat go BOOM, stupid Americans! Back at the pad, Blake, the smarmy dentist gets a moment to bitterly wish Constantine the worst. "I hope it rains," which is about as big a stretch as going to Death Valley and damning a competitor with a curse of sunshine. It also gives J.P., the Skinhead, who's been shaping up as a fan favorite, a chance to start looking obsessive and a little creepy over Ashley.

Faced with absolutely nothing to do, Fleiss plucks a page from the tried and worn playbook and orders the twosome to wander around Phuket pestering the locals for dating advice. Its a page out of last year's script where Brad Womack took hottie undertaker Shawntel Munster for a few laps around Anguilla when they had nothing to do. But instead of pestering fat Rastafarian women, they pester another old Thai dude about love. The old man starts yammering away about his 37 years of marriage when Constantine acts like Aladdin and wishes for a translator. Poof! A young Thai woman appears at his elbow and starts translating. The old joker makes like Mr. Miyagi to Ashley's Daniel-san and starts dispensing love advice. "Forgive easily; don't try to win." Sage advice. Sage advice no American under the age of forty will ever follow either. Its all about "Winning!" even when you're losing. Just ask Charlie Sheen. Fresh out of locals to pester, Constantine and Ashley...run down the street? As darkness falls, Fleiss finds them a dry canopy to huddle under and to show just how desperate they are to film Ashley doing anything besides comparing the remaining men to Big Head Bentley, the producers resort to having them hold a normal conversation. Constantine, after being muzzled the last 2 weeks, yammers on pretty good. He comes across as a normal guy. Him and Ashley? Eh. Ashley still looks crushed and pines away about Bilbo Douche-Baggins at every opportunity. Constantine gets the rose for being a good sport anyway. No kissing is shown and they finally wander off into the rain. Boring.

Some Bachelor "Charity"

While Constantine and Ashley have been enjoying the rain, the Group Date card has arrived. Ben Chipmunk, J.P., the Skinhead, Blake, the smarmy dentist, Mickey Finn, The Wild West, Vino Ben, Nick and His Horrid Hair Highlights, Lucas the Enigma, William the Wise, and Sunny Ryan have their names called to go do some charity work around Thailand. This leaves the Ivy League finance 'droid, Eraser Head Ames, holding the last chance for some one-on-one malaria. The boys all speed off to a nearby orphanage where Ashley awaits them in the rain. She bangs on about the tsunami a few years back and all the orphans it created. And since these kids haven't suffered enough, they are to be the object of some Bachelor Charity. The charity takes the form of a host of well educated men who nothing about manual labor painting their orphanage a wide array of hideous colors. The actual point of the exercise isn't really to punish orphans, its just an excuse to introduce the next theme of the season now that Bentley is back in Utah (for the moment) receiving death threats: its to let us all know that Sunny Ryan is a constant irritant to the other men. Ashley wanders around looking broken-hearted while all the men lambast Ryan as a bossy, relentlessly upbeat dork. The boys all paint the room under Ryan's expert tutelege. In a side room, Vino Ben has decided to add a mural to the wall he's painting and Ashley joins him. Ben has decided to paint something that looks a little like an elephant. No, more like a hybrid: an elephant-pottamus. "I can't paint," Ben needlessly informs us as Ashley joins him and paints a pretty flower just to let us know that she wears the painting pants in this relationship. This was an act of charity? I can just imagine the nightmares the Thai kids will have over that mural. They finally bring out some bikes and the producers release the kids they have kept caged up out back so J.P., the Skinhead can gush about what a life changing experience this has been. (How about a few iPads for them, Fleiss? You tightass.) As darkness mercifully falls and the Thai orphans snuggle into their new bunk beds keeping one eye on the elephant-pottamus that's about to leap off their wall and attack them, Ashley takes the guys back to the Renaissance to sit around the pool and let them whine about what a dick Ryan is, and she can whine about how much she misses You-Know-Who. William the Wise, henceforth mercifully silent after last weeks suicidal idiocy at the Roast, predicts Ryan is definitely "top 4." There's no hiding a genius. Vino Ben gets a few seconds alone with the gal and nets a kiss, while J.P., the Skinhead worries Ashley since he's been "stand-offish" all day. She needn't have worried. J.P. likes her...maybe too much. They gush about orphans and she marvels at his shaved head and they make out. "J.P. is the best kisser here!" (Oh god. Lets hope she picked him then. If not, some other guy just threw his beer at his television screen and screamed "whore!") Ashley meets with Sunny Ryan and you begin to feel that if Bentley did nothing, he may have sharpened up her radar. She quizzes him about how well he gets along with the others and he insists "Fine!" Blake, the smarmy dentist, begs to differ. With some producer-prompting, Blake confronts Ryan and tells him he is either a phony or one of those relentlessly golly-gee types who drives everyone nuts. Ryan just keeps repeating, "Really? Really?" Just to impress upon our minds what a dick Ryan is, when Ashley emerges from her rounds and fingers the flower, Ryan butts in and hauls her away for a last second ass kissing that was needless, desperate, and obviously producer-prompted. Like it mattered. She returns and roses Vino Ben for being a normal person. Date over.

Eraser Head Ames' Love Sonnet to Himself

While Ashely was moping in the rain with the other turds, highly educated finance bot, Eraser Head Ames, has been told by the suddenly talkative Constantine Hercules that he needs to charge his batteries and buff his porcelain veneers cause he and Ashley are going to venture out into the rain together. She awaits him with the usual umbrella in hand and they go out onto a skiff where the producers make them stand on the bow and get a face full of monsoon. Once they take a dinghy into some hidden coves, we add a little more knowledge to our Ames file. We've already heard that he has 5 graduate-level college degrees and runs marathons. To that we add that he has visited 70 countries and has one facial expression: a grin. As they dine back at the Renaissance, we also learn this is his second trip to Phuket and he also slacks around at work. "I found a class at work on the internet and decided, why wait? So I came here the next day to take a cooking class." Now how gay is that? Self absorbed there much, Ames? Ashley, who gives every impression she intended to dump him before the date started, starts to sound and look impressed. Slow down, Ash, and try and think like you're thirty-five instead of twenty-five. Older people could hear this scenario going off in their heads:
Ring
"Honey, did you pick up the milk on your way home? You're late."
"Uh, well, you remember that dinner party on Saturday? Well, we're supposed to be having smoked mackrel."
"Yeah, so?"
"I was just wasting my employers time at work and saw there was a great class on Finnish cooking..."
"Where are you!?"
"Helsinki!"
Click.
Ames, his face stuck on grin, manages to show off his big vocab and cheesy poetic sayings, and before you know it, she ups and hands over the flower. Once again, no kissing. And its a good thing too. If Ames' forehead and Ashley's forehead ever got together in a meaningful way, the poor child would have a Tenhead. Date over.

Monsoon Cocktail Bore

Ashley comes into the party whining about Bentley one more time and then sits down with some of the lesser lights so they can get their two minutes and thirty-seconds worth of fame. First up is erstwhile attorney, The Wild West, he of the dead wife. Ashley quizzes him about being ready to move forward and despite saying all the right things, one assumes his end is about nigh. Next comes fellow shyster, Lucas, the Enigma. They talk about his divorce and he hits her with what no woman wants to hear: he got divorced because he fell out of love. (You mean like you will with me?) Trying to cover, he lies, "I've never quit on anything in my life!" Yeah, except your first marriage. Next! But all of this is just chaff for the other big theme of the show, namely that Sunny Ryan is a phony dickhead. Blake blasts him some more and when he sits down with Ashley and for a P. I. the guy is clearly pissed. Busy to prove Blake and the others are right, Ryan phony smiles through his anger and sarcastically defends being happy. "Well excuse my crime," he seethes with a fake grin. "There are men being mortared in Afghanistan. What do I have to be unhappy about?" Fair point; just being such a wad how you show it, dude. Just to show Blake, the producers, and me that he won't be stopped, Ryan fake-smiles, closes his eyes, scrunches up his face, and expels a fart the exact shape and color of Snow White. Magical.

Finally...and I do mean finally, the wingman enters tinging his champagne glass calling the crashing bore off.

Producer Ass Covering

Harrison hauls Ashley aside for a sit down and prompts her to whine about Bentley a little more. Ashley quickly verifies that she had, two weeks in, already picked Bentley and was ready to be done with the rest of these guys instantly. More good news for whoever she picked. Claiming her mood is better and she now sees the men in a whole new Bentley-less light, she asks to add a rose to the ceremony.
"There are no rules," Harrison keeps cawing like the producer-parrot he is. "Like us showing you what a wad Bentley is," is left unsaid.

Harrison lines them up, produces and extra rose from the rose vault, and here we go.

Safe: Eraser Head Ames, Vino Ben, and Constantine Hercules.

Roses:
1) Lucas the Enigma--Yee Haw! (No, I didn't make that up.)
2) Sunny Ryan--Maybe he's gonna' teach her how to fart in cartoon? If he does, you know it will look like Bentley.
3) J.P., the Skinhead--lets back off on the creepy meter, fella.
4) Nick--Emergency trip to the hairdresser is needed! Horrible Hair Highlights fading.
5) Mickey Finn--zzzzzzzzz.
6) Blake, the Smarmy Dentist--rewarded for being this week's producer-stooge.
7) William the Wise--mercifully almost mute
8) Ben Chipmunk--we actually needed an extra rose?

Dumped: The Wild West--time to head East.

Next Week: More Thai monsoons! God, this one was a snoozefest. Evidently Harrison is all over twitter trying to convince people that Bilbo Douche-Baggins will be back next week. I can hardly wait. See ya then.

6/6--You're Kidding; These Guys are Still Single?

2011-06-07T17:14:00.000-07:00

Dead Man Walking

"I Think the Fastest Way to a Woman's Heart is to Insult the Living Shit Out of Her!"

Heh, heh, heh. Amazing, isn't it? Men are a pretty dim lot. But young men? Ha, ha. Dumb as bricks. How hard is this, fellas? There are three basic rules of things you must not do when wooing a woman. No, no, not anything complicated like: don't get drunk and throw-up over at her parent's house or any advanced concepts like that. I mean the easy stuff--stuff even a man/boy should have learned before he was given a high school diploma. I'll type slowly so any young men reading this can understand:

The Captain's Basic Rules for Not Instantly Wrecking Your Relationship

Rule 1: Never make fun of your woman except in private and be prepared to buy her flowers even if you do.

Rules 2: Positively never make fun of anything about your woman--her hair, her tits, her fingernails. If you must make fun of anything about her--whisper it--then buy her flowers and something expensive.

Rule 3: If you must make fun of her anyway: shoot yourself. It will be quicker and less painful than what awaits you.

If on the other hand, you decide to blast her in public AND on national television, douse yourself with honey and stake yourself to a fire ant mound. Other men will gather around you, nodding with utmost solemnity and understanding and help to tie you down. It's part of the code, like setting fire to your boat at a Viking Funeral. The crowd could have gathered around several of these lads last night, as they busied themselves with the romantic techniques of publicly humiliated a woman they wanted to date. How painful was that? It was like watching a mass suicide... committed with a spork. I'm sure most people are focusing on the human cesspool who is Big Head Bentley and his malicious douchebaggery, but what blew my mind was just how stupid are these guys? Jeffery Ross--"Roastmaster General"? Seriously?

Let the Ratings Bonanza Begin

The producers of this crap can howl all they like about how they were fooled by Bentley and his sociopathic douchebagginess, but who are they kidding? This episode was solid gold ratings. They kick it off by sending in their favorite stooge, the wingman. Chris Harrison ambles into the mansion in a warm-up suit and lays out the coming disaster before splitting to get in 18 holes. This week will feature 3 dates--one group date and two 1-on-1 spectaculars, but mostly it will feature the emotional demolition of Ashley Hebert--as their promos have giddily previewed. Quickly previewing the episode, Harrison drops the date card and departs in a flash so they can fit in as many scenes of Ashley crying as possible. The date card informs Ben Chipmunk to stop storing walnuts in his huge jowls and get ready to dance his passionate ass off.

Flash Mob

I know I'm old, but when I heard Ashley say she had planned a "Flash Mob" to surprise Ben Chipmunk, I thought she had planned a riot. She helps me understand that a flash mob is going to a public place and pre-planned, people show up in mass and and perform a choreographed dance. Well there's nothing dumb about that. Anyway, she hauls Ben to a dance studio and teaches him some dance, then they go to a public park and sit down on a blanket while onlookers gawk. Ben C., not being the sharpest tool in the shed, agrees to stand up and do their dance together in the park like two mimes. I would have stared at Ashley and asked if she were crazy. But Ben man's up and starts dancing away acapella. Suddenly, music breaks out, and then a flash mob joins them and they all dance like life is a 60's Disney Movie. Hoorah! Such giddy fun. Turns out their lame dance is an excuse for some Asian thug mob to come out and lip sync their latest smash hit. The thugs finish scratching an old record and the gathered crowd chants "kiss, kiss" so Ashley and Jowly have a smooch. As darkness falls, Ashley and Ben head to a Hilton rooftop by the pool to eat and give Ben the chance to talk at the speed of an auctioneer. Blasting through a punctuation-less stream of blabber, Ben sets off the few red flags Ashley is equipped with by painting an completely unrealistic vision of what marriage is supposed to be like. I'll try to transcribe:

"Iwanttoliveinabubblewithawomanwheretheworldjustgoesawaybecauseitsallsoooooooooospecial!!!"

Ashley cringes but must have promised the producers ahead of time and sullenly fingers the rose before handing it over. One very lame date; over.

Remove Mask, Insert Personality. We're Waiting...We're Still Waiting

While Ashley was morosely giving Ben Chipmunk a rose, a second date card has arrived back at the creepy mansion. You know its creepy because the masked specter of the Phantom of the Opera is haunting a balcony in broad daylight. Pipe organ music blares as the masked D-bag sometimes known as Jeff, tells us he needs a few minutes with Ashley before the date so he can take off his ridiculous mask and show her just how old-looking he is. As soon as Ashley shows up at the mansion, the Phantom hauls her outside, bores her with his weird personality, and then with every imaginable cheesy sound and visual effect inserted, takes off the mask to reveal...an old guy with a five o'clock shadow.

"Hi, I'm Jeff," he announces dramatically.

"Ewww! You're old as shit!" she obviously wants to scream, but manages to hold it until a Private Interview.

Roasting Your Chances With Your Date

The other guys stare outside and giggle since even a group this dumb can see him striking out from 50 feet away. The mask now dropped, they all pile into a stretch Hummer and head out to a comedy club. The club houses a very fat and burned-out looking Jeffrey Ross, who has put on a couple a hundred kilos in the decade or so since his career took a dive into the nearest crapper. Since then, Ross has dubbed himself the Roastmaster General instead of the more accurately named Washed-Up Loser, and is haunting around looking for work. Honestly folks, if you ever doubted just how little the producers care about seeing a love match, this should do it. Any first, second, or fortieth date where the main focus of a suitor is to rag, denounce, and take a crap on their date is designed by sadists, not people looking to pop a cork at the coming wedding. The boys are herded around and Ross demonstrates his trademarked style of Jokes Without Punchlines by offering to fill Ashley the dentists cavity for her. What a card. What a joke machine this guy is. The example offered, the boys are given 15 minutes to perfect their routines and take a few shots of Crown Royal while Fleiss and Co. kidnap some lost tourists to fill Ross' normally vacant club. Now, it's suicide time. A few actually recognized that light at the end of the tunnel for the locomotive it was and and swerved to avoid it. Others did not.

Lucas the Enigma shows that mystery or not, he's not an idiot, by slamming Eraser Head Ames for having a gargantuan forehead, and ignoring Ashley's prodigious brow.
Sunny Ryan, the relentlessly upbeat solar energy dork decides to spare everyone insult or laughs, and proves to the world it should never fear Armageddon from a Solar Bomb; they explode only with the sound of crickets.
Eraser Head Ames fires back at the weakest target--the former Phantom--with a cocktail napkin mask.
Blake, the smarmy dentist is the only one to actually show any wit by launching a single joke that sprays ever competitor pretty well, but leaves Ashley out of it. Points to the suit filler.
Its left up to the now unmasked D-bag, Jeff, to take aim at Ashley's tiny tits and launch some lameness.
Vino Ben and Nick and His Horrible Hair Highlights, decide that since the mask ragged their date, well, then doggone it! it must be ok, and the focus becomes her miniscule chest. Ashley claps and tries to act like it doesn't bother her.
The stage now set, comedian wanna-be, William the Wise, decides its more important to try and impress Jeffrey Ross, a crowd of strangers, and any watching talent scout than dating Ashley by blasting her to the moon. A sampling: Ashley is a "Womack leftover", he only came on the show because he thought Chantal or Emily were going to the Bachelorette; and wonders why he is competing for a "flat-chested Bachelor runner-up."

Ashley's face crashes to the stage and the crowd boos and gasps. By the third riff, I started to slink lower into my chair. To my side, the Wench Queen gasps. By the fifth strafing shot, she is squeaking and about to tear up with Ashley and her sister across the room is snarling. Damn this idiot! He's about to get ME into trouble! Both women gnash their teeth while I sink down low and avoid the waves of hatred coursing through my living room. Guilt by association is threatening. Any person with a penis is now guilty of callousness and hatefulness. I move to deflect the outrage by declaring William a "deadman." Whew! Close call. William sits down looking at the crestfallen Ashley and compounds his idiocy by trying to defend himself. "Its a roast, not a love on Ashley contest!" This was like watching a guy grab a live hornet's nest and cram it down over his own head. I was just grateful it wasn't me. Idiot!

The next time we see Ashley she is sitting in a darkened corner of the now empty club bawling. It's time for the true male asshole, Big Head Bentley, to display his edited and very real awfulness. William is just a famemongering idiot, but this guy is borderline evil. Deciding he will buck Ashley up so he can "mess with her head", Bentley swoops in to offer false comfort. The rest of the night is going to be a one man contest where Bentley tries to up himself on just how callous, arrogant, and downright mean he can be. Saying much about this performance is needless; if you are reading this, you saw it. It was a new low in sadist fame-seeking. The guy obviously had a sick agenda of some sort. I'll keep my assessment of Bentley short and to the point: This guy needs his ass kicked! Badly! I think that will cover it.

The "Party"

Joy buzzers for all. Ashley arrives crushed and crying. She tells the boys her greatest fear was that they would all see it was her instead of Emily or Chantal and get back in the limos and leave. Yeah, she may have self-esteem issues, but this smackdown was needless. The producers can suck me. This was their fault; they scheduled a date whose only purpose was to humiliate their insecure Star, and allowed Bentley onto this show to promote his worthless, sadistic ass. They got their ratings, I'm sure. Anyway, various dudes make their pitches to the crestfallen Ashley and William cries like the idiotic turd he is an runs away bawling and threatening to go home like a three year-old. Unfunny dork though he may be, Sunny Ryan earns a kiss and a rose for trying to give comfort, and Big Head Bentley maneuvers around to try and wriggle deeper under Ashley's skin before he trashes her. Glorious. Ashley, weak and vulnerable after the kicking lets us know she is "in love with Bentley". He holds her head in his lap and smirks at the camera. Mercifully, date over.

Bentley's Big Exit

Must I? Nope. He sucks and I don't want to.

J.P the Skinhead Tries to Ride to the Rescue

The dating must go on. A thoroughly shattered Ashley, who has cried herself into oblivion over the departed Bentley, awaits the scheduled JP, the Skinhead with all the enthusiasm of a corpse at her house. If anything fancy had been planned, the producers had enough sense to change it. J.P, equipped with a producer supplied bouquet, arrives at Ashley's rental where she greets him. Completely shot, Ashley finally asks for a slum around night and they change into pajamas and make out. Give JP credit, he did his best, but how much could anyone have done after this?

Cocktail Party Skip

Ashley arrives at her room of deliberation, stares at the picture of Bentley, and starts bawling again while the boys all wait out front cooling their heels. I wonder if they had any idea just how bad this was? The wingman slithers into the deliberation room behind Ashley and has a sit down with her. He weakly tries to steer her away from Bentley without bothering to show her the endless footage of him ragging her and laughing about what a fool she was. "What do you want to do? I already told you, there are no rules." Harrison covers his own ass.

"Except your contract," a producer snarls as a reminder.

"No party," Ashley begs. "I'm just exhausted."

Rose Time:

Safe: Sunny Ryan, JP The Skinhead, Jowly Ben Chipmunk

Roses:

1) Constantine the Utterly Silent--hasn't said three words but keeps scoring roses

2) West--about time to head east.

3) Mickey Finn--boring beats mean or stupid every time

4) Vino Ben--Can he recover from the tit jokes? Will it matter anyway?

5) Blake the Smarmy Dentist--Funny, but you get the feeling it doesn't matter anyway.

6) Nick and his Godawful Hair Highlights--filling in the numbers

7) Eraser Head Ames--didn't hurt himself

8) Lucas the Enigma--ditto

9) William the Wise--shows how bad the last two were.

Dumped: Jeff, the unmasked D-bag and Chris, the unexceptional.

So now, with 8 weeks to go, if Ashley recovered enough to pick anyone, the guy is getting a ringside seat to sit and watch just how much she had fallen for Douche Head Bentley and share her humiliation. He also gets to relive the entire nightmare along with her and their relationship can follow Jeffery Ross' career into the nearest latrine. The Bachelorette, and its dubious record of relationship successes rolls on. Next week, the boys take Ashley's shattered emotional remains to East Asia. I'll tag along and report back.

5/30--Dates as Pointless as a Broken Pencil

2011-05-31T12:55:00.001-07:00

About as "Stealth" as a Barn

Phantom of the Opera wanna-be, Jeff, the Masked D-bag, makes his corny move.

Nothing like killing a few hours on a Monday night. This was like a water-treading tournament. Week 2 of Ashley Hebert's quest to pay off her Dental School loans revealed nothing except for the fact that she has lousy taste in men and one helluva body. I supposed that will have to do. Even when we got to see a date, the producer's squandered as much time as possible just to ensure we have no earthly idea whether Ashley is even remotely compatible with any of these men or even interested in them. And I thought Angry Birds was a colossal waste of time.

Vega$ Vega$ Vegas$

As soon as the preview ends, Chris "Wingman" Harrison enters the mansion looking casual in a navy-blue button-up and jeans, and rounds the boyos up for a preview of the date rules in the 1 in a million chance that a new viewer is actually tuning in. Harrison warns the oddballs to be extra competitive, since some will get stiffed on dates most weeks. He drops the first date card and departs. Eraser Head Ames, the Ivy League finance 'droid, steps up and reads off the name of Cheesemachine avatar, Will, the Comedian. Ashley invites him to make a "splash" with her. Meanwhile, Ashley has departed her own digs and is on her way over in what looks suspiciously like a stolen Aston-Martin. She drives up to the mansion and crashes in wearing about a kleenex worth of material on her wonderful little bod and picks Will up for a trip to Vegas. Since driving stolen Aston-Martin's isn't exciting enough for this show, she drives Will to an airport and whisks him away to Sin City in a private jet. A quickly inserted Private Interview lets Jeff, the masked D-bag show us he is still masked and still an assclown by declaring himself to be "stealth." Jesus, has this show stooped to stealing lines from Survivor now? Whatever.

Pointless Endeavor, Take 1

Ashley gets Mr. Funny Stuff to Vegas and they proceed to engage in what may have been the dumbest date on this show since Jillian played hide-and-seek with her suitors: they eat wedding cake, shop for a wedding ring, and then stage a ludicrous fake wedding. Reason for this total waste of time? Jillian, er I mean Ashley says its because she's worried the guys are not really there for her and are really not ready to get married. Well that will damn sure show them who's boss. Any joker unwilling to be dragged into marrying a hyperactive little dentist on the 1st date is an obvious commitment phobe. Will tries to act like he is sweating the whole time, and I do mean tries. Stupid, even by this show's non-existent standards. Once they're done wasting the better part of the afternoon learning nothing about one another, darkness mercifully falls. And when it does I get all nostalgic since Ashley appears dressed in one of my mother's draperies from 1972. A green sateen nightmare last seen when Linda Ronstadt ruled the Top 40. Fortunately for me (and the 5 other men in the viewing audience) its cut so high we can see Ashley's ovaries. Small blessings. Will collects her and she leads him out to a man-made pond around the Bellagio for the least private date you could imagine. What happens here I assume always happens: a crowd of onlookers gather around to yell at the Bachelor/ette and shout encouragement. But for some odd reason, Fleiss has decided to show us this. Same thing when their jet landed in Vegas. People flocked around Ashley and got their pics taken with her. Odd. Anyway, with only a few thousand onlookers hanging over the railing of the pond and shouting at them, Will rows her out to a little perch in the water and they have dinner. Will confides to her, in between shouts from fans, that he wants to be a stand-up comedian. Damn; doesn't anyone just want to be a cell phone salesman anymore? Anyway, right on cue, Will breaks into a serious face and confides to Ashley about his dead dad. Turns out his dad was a major alky and was beaten up by the side of a road and left for dead. Ashley chimes in about her own alcoholic pappy and a connection is established. Truthfully, I had forgotten her dad-tale from last season since she was never shown mentioning it to Brad. Whoa. Thinking back to what a lush she was last season gave me the shivers. Cool it on the sauce, dear. Anyway, they make out and the fountains in the fake lake explode to the cheers of their voyeur audience. Ashley hands him the flower. Date over.

Pointless Endeavor, Part 2

Saving a few bucks by not flying Ashley back to L.A., a group date card arrives back at the mansion and it turns out 12 of the remaining stud farm are off to Vegas to meet Ashley there. Leaving behind a player or two, as well as the masked idiot, the other 12 head to the airport to meet Ashley. She is waiting for them dressed like Ellie May Clampett gone street walker. The boys roll up in a stretch limo and Ashley guides them into a theatre where the dance group Jabawockeez is rehearsing. What's a Jabawockeez? Wasn't that the fat slugs and hairy giants in Star Wars? Maybe that was Jabba the Wookie. Regardless, it looked like a bunch of hooligan mimes dancing around to electro-pop music. Ashley ditches the boys and the Ellie May outfit so she can surprise them by emerging up onto the stage and...and, nothing. Very impressive. The head hooligan-mime lets the fellas know that they will get a chance to be French embarrassments in their own right and dance with the Jabbers, but only half of them will make the cut. The losers will be shipped back to the rustic surroundings of the Bachelor Mansion to drink themselves insensible and cool their heels while the winners get to hang around with Ashley at the hotel and not enjoy Vegas.

They split into two teams and label themselves perpetual groomsmen "The Best Men" and the aptly titled "No Rhythm Nation." Practice sessions start and the Men decide to do some version of a Rose Ceremony wedding and No Rhythm Nation does something involving mime masks and dancing like white boys. They all dance about as well as you expect a bunch of bond lawyers, cell phone salesman, and financial analysts are known for. No Rhythm is declared the winner by the hooligan-mime and are given the opportunity to hide in the background during the night's performance. Ashley, who can actually dance, is filmed separately before the real crowd comes in as to not rook the paying audience. This leaves, Adam West, Vino Ben, Lucas the Enigma, Blake the Smarmy Dentist, Nick and his Horrid Hair Highlights, and Ta Da!--Big Head Bentley behind to party with Ashley. She casts a longing glance at the two or three from the other team that she actually wanted to speak with as they are unceremoniously packed back off to the mansion.

We've scarcely arrived at the party destination outside the Bellagio when Adam West moves in for the capture. West guides Ashley aside, skips any preamble and whips out the big guns of depression and chronicles the tragic demise of his wife. While he is describing his own personal agony, the sadistic producers insert Private Interviews of Big Head Bentley, shooting his mouth off like a rude cannon. Bentley is seen (and heard) gleefully admitting that he likes to swim in his own piss or something like that. Nah, I'm just wishing. What Sphincter-Head Bentley describes is how he'd rather swim in his own yellow river than face planning a wedding with Ashley. Jeez. Now, I've watched too many seasons of this trash to believe everything I'm shown, but this sure looked real. The only question we are left with before Bentley exits the show on his own next week, is: Is this guy really this cavernous an asshole? It might all be slice and dice magic, but it hardly matters. The guy is a douche. The real question is only just how big a one is he? Somewhere is a seedy dive in Texas, Greaseball Wes Hayden turned and high-fived some drunken patron when he saw this. The skeezer-crown has been passed. Just to rub in the horror, Bentley is seen playing coy with Ashley and like a clueless babe with half her actual I.Q., Ashley practically begs said douche grenade to hang around. Then she awards him the rose for being such a wad. West, who related the tale of losing his wife, looks on in confusion. America joins him. Date over.

I'll Bet Ya a Flip of This Coin That We'll Be Bored By This Next Pointless Date

While Big Head was working to see that he will be banned by the State of Utah and never be allowed back, another date card has arrived back at the Mansion. Two of the remaining dudes, Creepy Mickey Finn and J.P. the Skinhead hear their names called. But alas, we have a pointless twist. Seems a coin flip will be used to determine who gets to go to Vegas and be boring. Mickey wins the flip, and J.P. is shut out. Mickey heads to Vegas where Ashley, insisting she doesn't know who's coming, awaits him at the airport. Mickey emerges and Ashley deflates like an old tire. "Ohhhhhhh, Mickey?" Uh-huh. Why did I get the overwhelming feeling that she was told a two-headed coin was going to be used? Mickey takes it in stride and off they go. Truthfully, Mickey came across as much less creepy this week. Mrs. Barbarossa insists he's very good looking too. But that's just tough shit, isn't it? If the Wench Queen wants to give her unsolicited opinion about how hot Mickey Finn is, she should start her own damn blog. Although less creepy, I thought the guy was as boring as a bag of concrete mix, so the "Creepy" is over; long live the Mickey Finn! Matters weren't helped by the incessant (and asinine) gimmick of flipping a coin over everything these two were even considering doing. But when they finally stop shticking and sit down to eat, Mickey whips out yet another dead relative tale. This time, its dead mom. (Anybody else get the feeling that this crew was recruited assuming Brad and Emily would have busted up before filming started instead of a week after it had begun?) In the end, Ashley acts like she's going to let a coin flip decide the rose question. Mickey, dull as dirt he may be, looked ready to tell her to stuff the rose, thorns first. Arghh! But he finally gives in and she flips. He gets the rose and she tells him he was going to get it anyway. They then walk on a fake beach and some chick I don't recognize comes out and sings to them. They make out a lot. Date over.

Thanks Fleiss; I always Wanted to Know What the Phantom of the Opera Looks Like on the Can

Finally its back to the mansion for some creepy organ music and scenes of Jeff, the masked D-bag, hovering over the proceedings like a vulture. Ashley comes in looking fab and schmoozes around with the guys who got stiffed. First up, is J.P the Skinhead, who hauls her aside and coin flips her to see if he gets a kiss. He wins and Ashley chalks up another lip lock, and does this one gleefully. Various other dudes get a few minutes to make their pitches. Ben C. takes a break from storing walnuts in his enormous jowls, and takes her aside to brag about his out of control passion again. I think the "C" stands for "chipmunk". Nick and his Horrid Hair Highlights gives some line dancing lessons and appears to be owning the moment until the producer's send in already-rosed Will, the Comedian, for the steal. The others gnash their teeth at the Cheesemachine avatar. At long last, the Masked D-bag takes a break from haunting the rafters and corners Ashley in a creepily lit stairwell to make his pitch. He rolls out his own tale of woe of a brain hemorrhage and divorce at 29. He's just about to remove his mask when the producers decide we need to see one more week of this shit, and send in Matt, the Mamas Boy for the steal. The Phantom mumbles "curses to you!" twirls his mustache and vanishes in a whiff of smoke. When he reappears, he is sitting on the throne pinching a loaf. Thanks for the visual, Fleiss. The episode is rounded off when Ashley pays Big Head a call, and like Casanova the Noggin, Bentley carries her romance style down near a fireplace and kisses her. He's quick to let us know just how boring and horrible the kiss was while Ashley gushes and admits she practically wet herself. I'll bet she's loving this broadcast. The final insult delivered, the wingman enters with glass and cheese knife and calls things off.

Roses:

Already safe: Will, the Comedian, Mickey Finn, and Fat Head Bentley.

1) Adam West: No rose for the lost wife, but one here.

2) Constantine Hercules: Scarcely a word spoken, but he scores easily.

3) Sunny Ryan: This season's Tenley. Dreams in cartoon and shits heart-shaped rainbows, but did both things quietly this episode.

4) Ben Chipmunk--Ok.

5) Nick and his H.H.Highlights.

6) Eraserhead Ames

7) Lucas, the Enigma

8) Jeff, the Masked D-bag. Was there any doubt when the mask stayed on?

9) J.P. the Skinhead--shaping up like a fan favorite

10) Chris--who? Chris Harrison? Who is this guy?

11) Vino Ben--winemaker is one of two narrators to this point. Likable guy.

12) Blake, the smarmy dentist--fill that suit, son.

Cut:

1) Vino Ben's twin, Steven the Hairdresser. Looked almost concerned by the news

2) Ryan M.--No more autographed wingman photos for you.

3) Matt the Mamas Boy--phones mom at 4:30 AM to get an airport pick up and some French Toast. Few women will injure their hands beating down his door.

Next week: Fat Head Bentley dumps Ashley and worries about his incredible hair. See ya then.

5/23--The Sherbert Dentist and 25 Cavities

2011-05-24T13:02:00.000-07:00

Ah to be back in my piratical saddle, firing salvos and cutlass whacks at desperate, fame-seeking douche bags; sometimes we just know our rightful place in the world. Life is good. As regular readers of my coarse rants may have noticed, I was forced to abandon the hunt late in Brad Womack's quest to prove to the world that he was actually an arrested teenager with wrinkles. Family illness and business concerns drove me from the con of my beautiful ship and off the internet, but your fair redbeard has returned, as grouchy and curmudgeonly as ever. Its good to see I'm not the only third string, half-assed entertainer abandoning their day job and returning to the Bachelorette this season. Relentlessly perky one-day-soon-I-swear-to-god-dentist, Ashley Hebert has heeded the siren's call of wayfarer of malice, Mike Fleiss, and decided to perform a root canal on the viewing public and get a BIG head start on paying back those dental school loans before she hangs up a shingle. As her graduation approaches, Ashley took a look at her Guaranteed Student Loan bill, gasped, and then accepted Fleiss' offer to fill the shoes of two other gals nearly everyone wanted to see be the Bachelorette instead. That fat check will help alleviate the humiliation, I'm sure. But I'm afraid before she can fully step into the role of America's (and Canada's) new Love Goddess, some rewriting of history will be required. And there's only one man who rewrites history better than Joseph Stalin.

Enter Wingman

Chris "Wingman" Harrison, kicks off his 75th season of hosting the Bachelorette by appearing in front the of the Bachelor Mansion--for the 75th time--and spinning a little magical revision. The winger sets us straight on the past: Ashley got her heart broken by Brad. No, no; you never saw her self-destruct that relationship so she could get the hell out of there. It was insecurities. Yeah, that's it--insecurities. She could never tell Brad that she really, really loved him. Honest to Pete. It wasn't because she saw him drooling all over Emily. Nope. And drunkenness? Nah, she was never drunk much, that was just exhaustion--yeah, exhaustion. Golly gee, America, this little gal has learned from her mistakes. Yep, if she could do it over again, she'd be the first one to soberly declare her undying love for a 38 year-old barkeep with a less than stellar record on relationships who was in love with someone else. Yes, indeed. Oh, and one other thing: she has bangs now, so forget you ever saw that enormous Fivehead of hers. Its all covered up and you can forget it. Since you are all now hypnotized by my Dark Jedi magic, lets see the idiots we conned into coming onto our show and having their reputations ruined and give their former classmates, acquaintances, and family members a chance to sell dirt on them to the tabloids!

A quick preview of the men flashed past me and two things immediately came to mind. First of all, this is a brainier group than I ever remember seeing. Felt a lot like Jillian's season. Second, did anyone else notice how many of these guys looked like the same guy? It was like Fleiss hired six guys and just kept dressing them in different suits. We had the clean cut Ken Dolls, the Long-haired artist/hairdressers, the square-jawed, financial sales types, and a few guys thrown in just for their entertainment value. Once the intros are complete, Ashley arrives at the mansion looking beautiful as expected and Harrison moves to justify his paycheck by coaching her along on her new and improved experience with Brad. Agreeing to admit she was a fool last time (does anyone actually care?) she is welcomed into the fold as the new Star and immediately joins in by spiking the punch about a contestant who is there for "the wrong reasons". That statement is now so universally cliche that she even makes the quotation sign with her hands when she says it. She lets the stunned winger know that a former contestant let her know that this guy is up to no good. The stage set, it's limo time:

1) Ryan P.--relentlessly "sunny" entremanure. Balanced earnest and geek for a while. Geek won out. 1st Impression Rose for being almost believably golly-gee.

2) Jon--Hey! That's Matt Grant without the British accent! Oh, I thought this separated about birth thing was going a bit too far there for a minute. Anyway, e-commerce business criminal who's not married to Shayne Lamas either. Or Ashley Hebert for that matter.

3) Lucas--Texas oil field-business criminal. I'm sure Ashley has charming memories of guys who have worked in Texas oil fields.

4) William--The 1st of the Ken Doll 'droids. Spouts off about "seeing myself marrying Ashley!" like he's trying to become the next Cheesemachine. But saves his bacon in my book by actually doing some damn funny impressions, especially in the credits at the end.

5) Mickey--escapes characterization in any particular group. Fortunately for Ashley, "creepy" and "gross"are not categories. Mouth rapes her at "hello!" Shocked she didn't rose-rape him at "Goodbye!"

6) Tim-Mr. Entertainment! Liquor salesman who's not averse to sampling the wares. Pushy, obnoxious New Yorker and future AA member.

7) Ben C.--Ken Doll lawyer from Cajun Country. Speaks some French and brags about how passionate he is. Ok.

8) Stephen--1st of the long-haired artist/hairdresser types and the scruffiest. Said barely a word all night.

9) Chris D.--square-jawed financial money-pusher. Didn't this guy already get out of the car?

10) West--Adam West! No, I'm kidding. Lawyer who escapes categorization. Widower--wife drowned. Actually seemed nice. Handed her a broken compass stuck on "West". Decent trick.

11) Anthony--Silvio Dante. This guy has seen way too many Ratpack Movies and Soprano's episodes. Spent the whole night slicking back his jet-black pompadour like Dean Martin while aping the mannerisms of Frank Sinatra. Tried to work in every Italian Stereotype known to man. By the time the evening was over, I was certain his hair was slicked with olive oil and he had a dead guy in the trunk of his long black sedan. Shame she took out a "hit" on him really. I was going to call him Douchebaggio.

12) Rob--Baby-faced Tech Executive who had suit-filler written all over him. Alas, he even failed at that one.

13) Ames--Highly-educated Ivy League finance 'droid with a last name for a first name, a pointed chin and a perfectly squared eraser head. Was this guy even real?

14) Matt--Square-jawed sales rep. I'm telling you this guy has already stepped out of the car!

15) Jeff-The Phantom of the Opera. Yet another entremanuer, but unlike the last one, this guy wore a mask all night. Somehow Ashley bought this shtick. Previews show him still wearing his mask even on the crapper. The Lone Ranger its not.

16) Ben F.--Long-haired artist type # 2. Winemaker who brought wine. Actually seemed ok.

17) Frank--square-jawed college admissions guy who sinks himself immediately by winking at her. See ya.

18) Michael--another unshaven tech salesman.

19) Chris M.--High-strung Canadian construction CEO (read: handyman)

20) Ryan M.--another construction guy, but looks more like another square-jawed special. Is there any end to them? Takes pics of her and apparently wants to stalk the wingman for an autograph.

21) J.P.--Is that the skinhead look? Regardless, wins major points by announcing that he has "no props, no frills." Well it only took 21 guys before one acted like a normal human being.

22) Nick--tall, lanky personal trainer with a bad hair day.

23) Blake--smarmy dentist.

24) Bentley--Big Head Bentley. The drama star of the night. Yes, some dumb parents actually named their child after an snotty English touring car. Why "Big Head?" Two reasons: one, he's full of himself. Two, he has an ENORMOUS cranium. Seriously, this guy's head was the size of a basketball, literally and figuratively. Has obviously agreed to be this season's Greaseball Wes-Rated-R Rego. Producer's couldn't wait to run footage of him comparing Ashley to an ugly little mall rat who is way beneath him. How this portrayal is supposed to help a new Family Fun Center business in Mormon Utah remains a mystery.

25) Constantine--3rd long-haired artist type. Looked ready to audition for Hercules: The New Adventures. Ties floss onto her ring finger as a reminder of who he is. Cheesy but effective. Strangely silent all night.

To The Party We Go!

The wingman presses like a madman. "Is your husband in there?"

"I hope so! I really hope so!"

(After commercial and Jedi Mind Control probably involving waterboarding)

"Is your husband in there?"

"I think so."

"Much better answer this time. You can go in now."

Ashley goes in and is showered with plaudits, raises her glass and its off we go. Ever-sunny Ryan P. is up first and the earnest/geek race is quickly lost. Lets hope this guy is a red herring. Ben F, goes next and they speak about wines. He seems honestly interested in her. We'll see. Matt, one of the Ken Dolls goes next and in an obvious producer-stunt, he has Ashley call his mom with him. Mom, being the eternal hipster, warns her boy to wrap it up with a fast mover like Ashley. Mom must watch the show. Michael, the tech guy, threatens Ashley and the audience with a guitar, but then warms my heart by tossing it in the drink. Whew! No singing on night 1. Maybe this season will be ok. Most of the rest of the night focused on Tim, the New York drunk and Jeff-the Masked D-Bag. Foul-mouthed Tim hammers away at Jeff, and then gets so drunk he can't hammer away at anything. Ben C. and his super jowls steal some producer-written signs and gets to establish his Frenchness. William pulls out the sense of humor and for the most part, he does well. Meanwhile, Tim the drunk has gotten so plastered that he can't even talk, then passes out on the couch like a college fratboy. Attractive. His last bow will consist of slurring away at the Phantom of the Opera before passing out cold. Ashley gets a herd of her boys to carry him out to the car where all of viewing America shared the exact same thought: Just how many times did Tim puke in the back of that car? C'mon, you know you did. And you thought I was the sick one.

Apparently shellacked by Tim's breath, Ashley hands Ryan P. the 1st Impression Rose. Anyway, the second the rose falls, the wingman comes in tinging his champagne glass with his signature cheese knife.

Already safe: (Inexplicably) Ryan P.

Roses:

1) Jeff--The producers call the number of the Phantom of the Opera. What's next, vampire fangs? sheesh.

2) Constantine--said nary a word. But the Hercules looks and dental floss must have said plenty.

3) Ben F.--Looks solid. Might be a fan favorite.

4) Lucas--I'm feeling suit-filler here.

5) Steven--Ben F's twin. Silent as well.

6) Matt--Tell mom she is a filthy old pititsa. (If you get that joke, you watch Stanley Kubrick movies)

7) Nick--Bad hair day doesn't cost him.

8) Chris D.--even watching it back, I can't tell which one he is.

9) Ryan M.--more chances to cozy up to Harrison.

10) Blake--dental courtesy. Didn't say a word.

11) Mickey the Creepy--looks like a numbers game to fill suits.

12) Ben C. and his mighty passionate jowls.

13) West--not a surprise.

14) William the impressionist.

15) J.P. --zero doubt on this one.

16) Ames--the 'droid ambles up stiffly and gets a buttoner.

Wingman cue--"Gentleman, this is the final rose and the story arc is under way. Bentley, ham it up!"

17) Big Head Bentley.

Dumped:

1) Douchebaggio. Gives the camera a two-fingered Sinatra kiss off and ambles into the night like Count "Vinny" Dracula.

2) Rob, the Baby-faced tech nerd.

3) Jon, the Matt Grant doppleganger. He seemed actually disappointed that he got the Bachelorette he wanted, and struck out on the 1st night.

So, one night in the books. What's next? No idea. I'm thoroughly unspoiled so you are safe about this ship. See ya next week.

2/21--Why Yes, Strange Man I've Just Met, You May Certainly Marry My Daughter

2011-02-22T16:20:00.000-08:00

"My Daddy Lives in a Really Big House! Nahhhhhhhhh!"

ZipperRipper Chantal prepares a statue of Brad Womack to meet her loaded parents.

Welcome to Week 8 of this season--otherwise known as the "Daughter Auction". This is the episode where Brad Womack travels the country and goes a courtin' and gets to meet the families who were dumb enough--or desperate enough--to unload their daffy daughters that they let them go make fools of themselves on national television to try and land a Texas bar owner with a spotty record in the commitment area. These same parents will welcome the Bachelor into their homes and practically beg Brad to take the dead weight off their hands. I'm waiting for the season where they actually catch some dad down on his knees and pleading, "Good god, can't you help a man out here?!" Ah, Women's Rights. But this season we're in for a break; many years the families are crazier and sleazier than their kids. Not this time. 'Ol Brad Womack not only managed to meet some nice folks, but he even stumbled into what looked like a gold mine or two while he was at it. And truthfully, I'm just being a dick...mostly. The families were cool. The women were cool. It's the producers who suck. So what's new?

Baron O'Brien and Squire Womack

Brad starts the episode out hanging around on a freezing balcony navel gazing about the women while wearing some dorky English Racing hat. That looked organic, didn't it? Brad normally wears a English Racing hat? It looked like Queen Elizabeth wearing a Stetson. Anyway, once Brad recaps why he can't dump any of the women he's going to, it's off to Mercer Island, Washington to meet this season's nemesis of his wardrobe: ZipperRipper Chantal. She awaits him in some scenic park as Brad drives up and they do the run and hug. Brad gives us a ominous-sounding PI: "So much of her is perfect, but I have concerns. I do not need a roller coaster in my life." Uh-huh. Settling in on a picnic table, Chantal fills him in on what's to come. She wants to run by her house, a mere 4 blocks from her folks, and introduce Brad to her menagerie. This was an odd date for these two. Considering the locales, and purpose of the trip, this was the 1st time they didn't look tempted to rip each other's clothes off. As they sat in the park discussing their future home in Austin and Chantal's current one around the corner, Brad didn't look fully recovered from last weeks Anguilla assault. Truthfully, he looked so stoic I was waiting for a pigeon to come perch on the top of his head or take a crap on him. Chantal, however, dropped into her giggly girl mode and before long he is laughing along playfully with her. They leave for her digs and Brad gets his first opportunity to raise an eyebrow, "Wow. Nice place." It is. Chantal must be the best paid Executive Assistant on the West Coast. Must be nice to have Daddy's Sugar Palace to crash in. She leads him indoors where they are greeted by two gray blobs she assures him are cats, and one nauseating little dog. Now, I'm a dog guy--love 'em, but is it some kind of requirement that at least one girl in the final 4 has to own some little piece of shit dog? How come no woman ever opens the door and the Bachelor gets floored by some gigantic Marmaduke? Chantal tells us the odd-looking little thing is named "Boca." Brad looks at it like he wants to step on it. You'll forgive me if I don't have the Make or Model of this particular animal, but it appeared to be some kind of hybrid. The only thing I'm sure about--besides the fact it was nauseating and dressed in doggy clothes--is that it probably cost more than my car. Same thing with the cats; they didn't look garden variety either. Chantal is flashing the animal bling. They have a seat on her expensive couch and talk about how she and the animals are a package deal. Brad nods ruefully and says he'll have to buy a new house. They then do something really odd for this show: they actually have a real-sounding conversation. They talk about limited closet space. Huh? Since when are we ever shown any mundane conversations about real life? Brad plays with the little dog and they have a talk like two people preparing to shack-up. Weird. They finally dump the animals and head over to her folks' house, or should I say Palace. As they walk down through the gate that leads to the front door, Brad's eyebrow disappears into his hairline, "Wow!" Wow, is right. This message is for all the people on the internet insisting that Chantal's dad is just pimping her on TV to sell a few more cars: suck it! This guy obviously has more money in his couch cushions than I do in my bank account. They walk up to a front door that probably cost more than my entire house and go inside. Greeting them is Chantal's sister. Huh? Her what? Her mom!? Yeowza! Holy crap, Mr. Womack; plastic surgery notwithstanding, this appears to be a rather deep gene pool you're fishing in here!

Ok, that's it! I'm done. I've tried to be selfless, but I have failed. Cupids and hearts, cupids and hearts--I was blind but now I can see. It was meant to be--Team Bremily all the way! Go on, Brad, dump her! Dump her right here in her daddy's fancy digs! Go on. Yes, do it now. I'll wait by the door. (Turning about and doffing my ostrich-plumed pirate chapeau), "Mrs. O'Brien, allow me to introduce myself; I am Frederick J. Barbarossa, humble ship's captain and occasional scribe, at your service. Pirate? Ho, no. Pirate is such a strong word. I prefer the term 'opportunistic entrepreneur', much like you dear husband. Yes, I'm afraid it's true, Brad is on his way to break your darling little girl's heart. Yes, he's certainly no changed man in my book! As a matter of fact I think we can both agree that he's quite the douche bag, if you'll pardon my French? No, but I'm afraid I have even worse news. You see, there's some sleaze bag named Mike Fleiss on the way to your house as we speak, and I'm afraid he means to sign your lovely daughter up as the next Bachelorette. Now, Mrs. O'Brien--may I call you Bille Jo? You see this silver-tongued devil means to put a hoard of fancy-knickered, Nancy-boys onto your daughter. Oh, no, no, you wouldn't want to do that. Chantal is a lonely young woman and the chance to maybe meet some decent fella hiding among the potted plants this Fleiss-devil will try and sic on her is too great to pass up. Now I know a way to circumvent that devil but good. You see, Chantal needs someone she can trust hanging out there with her. That's right--you. You can stay there the whole time and vet these losers to make sure she gets a good one. You and Chantal can spend your days lounging about the pool in your bikinis comparing notes..."

All right, honey, I'll stop. Let go of my ear! Ahem. Where was I? Oh, yeah, Brad crashes into the O'Brien mansion and is met by one hottie-assed MILF of a mom, some tall, strapping lad and finally Baron O'Brien himself. Mike O'Brien takes in a deep breath and smells, like always, the powerful fragrance of money, and then eyes Brad Womack with a steely gaze. Brad shrinks about a foot. The Baron hauls Brad aside for a man-to man and these two quickly figure out that if Chantal and Brad don't make it, that Mike and Brad would make a mighty cute couple. They trade tales of growing up with nothing and making a bundle. The Baron even takes Brad into the stadium-sized arboretum to show him some giant-assed statue he has. Then they tour the wine cellar arm in arm and Brad stashes that bottle of Two-Buck Chuck he'd brought along as a gift. Before Mike and Brad get carried away with each other, they all have sit down and Brad immediately rats out Chantal for popping him in his hairy mug the second she met him. General hilarity ensues. Finally, the ZipperRipper and the ZipperShredder go have a cry fest while Brad and Mike adjourn into the kitchen for Mike's blessing. The Baron quickly proves that he has better writers than Fleiss: "I don't know when we'll see you again if ever, but if the time comes and this all works out, you two certainly have my blessings." Unsolicited, Brad rings one up, and then kicks the shit out of himself for not taking Chantal on that shopping spree instead of the mortuary chick. The food that piece of shit dog eats will probably make that Bally's handbag look like a real bargain. Chantal walks Brad out and he tells her, "I don't want to leave!" (Who the hell would?) as the baron puts the exclamation on the evening: "Brad is sincere; a great man." Date, and Stephen Bradley Picklesimer Womack: done.

Disconnected Along the Border

Madawaska, Maine: Ashley Sherbert greets Brad in her freezing small town and takes him to dinner at the local French-speaking greasy spoon. Sherbert bee bops around with her mosquito-like energy and offers him a local delicacy called, "The Colon Blaster." No, not really. It was some French-sounding thing that I can't pronounce or type, but the meaning was the same. It was a bowl of french fries topped in gravy and cheese. "Would you be into that," she asks. Brad frowns, "Uh, yeah." Brad, who doesn't look like he's consumed a carb since adolescence, cringes as the waitress brings the dish to the table. "You like?" Brad stares at her and decides to try out some Frenchy-talk, "Uhhhh, si!" Quite the cosmopolitan is our Bradley. The waitress shrugs and drops the fries and gravy-cheese on the table and departs. Brad stares at it like it's a giant bowl of horse squeeze, but reluctantly picks up his fork. Sherbert stops him and digs her finger into the morass and offers him a gravy cheese fry. Swallowing with disgust, Brad open his mouth as she drops it in. "I saw your crown," she reminds us she's a Dentist. Shame she wasn't a doctor. Brad's eyes bug out and he goes into instant carb-shock. By the time they can roll the cameras again, its time to leave che greasy spoon.They gab about the need to reassure as Ashley takes him shopping for lobster and they stop off at a "honor-system" veggie stand. Brad, being a Texas redneck looks genuinely happy to meet French-speaking Yankee rednecks. It's definitely his kind of town. "I can see myself living here." Uh-huh. They arrive at the modest Sherbert home and we quickly see where Ashley gets her high-energy chipperness. The family is cool, but borders on spastic. The real surprise is her sister, Chrystie, who's pretty damn hot but covered in tattoos. Now, I've confessed to liking them on women, but this gal looked like a billboard. They all eat lobster before Ashley's step-dad takes a Brad aside for the point of the visit: to let Brad know Ashley is going nowhere until she finishes dental school. Doubts now abound. Her feelings, his feelings--no one has a clue what they feel. Dad tells Brad the thought of kids might scare Ashley. I'm surprised she even got a rose. This one isn't long for this TV world. Date over.

Brad Gets Mortified

Speaking of people not long for this TV world....Brad now heads to the hometown of the hottest undertaker I've ever seen--Chico, California--home of Shawntel Munster. For the third straight visit, Brad loves her town. He steps into the creepy Munster Family Mausoleum--cue creepy organ music. It's gonna' be that kind of date. Why? Is Shawntel some kind of death-obsessed freak? Is Brad all into lying on embalming tabbles for kicks? No, it's cause the producers are douche bags, that's why. Brad hugs the hottie Munster and tells her how beautiful it is around these parts. "Oh, wait till you see the rest," she says innocently, pointing further into the mausoleum. Dial tone. C'mon, Shawntel, we all know you're intelligent. Lose the brainfart sweetie; he's talking about your town, not your creepy funeral parlor. She tours him around the business, including the crematorium and then hauls him into the embalming room. Speaking of dial tones, Brad's all over that: "Uhhhhhh, ok." She suggests he lay on her embalming table and starts playing with some evil-looking tools of the trade. Brad grimaces like he's holding his ass checks clenched so he doesn't drop one on the floor. Finally bowing to producer-pressure, he lies down while she hovers over him like Dr. Frankenstein, complete with surgical mask. Brad visibly shivers and I'm expecting that Madison chick to come hopping out of a closet at him with her fangs bared. Lovely visual as Shawntel gets waaaayyyy too graphic in her dissertation about how she drains stiffs. Mercifully, they are allowed to leave...and after about 5 uncomfortable minutes, Brad looks like he wishes he was back on the embalming table. They go and meet her family and I see Pops Munster is on the early embalming plan. But as dead as he looks, he still possesses the power to weave a guilt trip better than my mother. Shawntel confesses she is deep into the Bachelor bubble and is just crazy about Brad. Pops' pinched face screws up like he just sucked a lemon. "But I always meant for you to carry on when I retire?" You did? Then why the hell did you agree to meet some Reality TV Star who would haul her to Austin? Brad squirms--its Austin or nada. Pops takes Shawntel aside and pulls out the big guns of guilt: "Shawntel, you certainly have my blessing to leave with this hairy-faced, double-dealing man who is far too old for you, but I just want you to know that the entire town of Chico, California will be nothing more than smoldering ruins if you do." Shawntel wanders back in and Pops smiles at Brad: "Well, you certainly have my blessings, you bastard. Kindly go ahead and take her so I can go jump into a freshly dug grave. Have no fear, Shawntel, I'll have some other undertaker who actually cares about this community embalm me." Brad beats feet in a hurry. Date over.

The Ricky and Ricki Show

That's right--Ricky and Ricki. Brad and Nascar Emily? Eh, not so much. But I don't care. I'm Team Bremily now anyway. I just want to see Chantal and her MILF mom next season...and the Baron look down his rich-assed nose at some quivering douche. So, cupids and hearts, cupids and hearts! Brad gets to meet little Ricky-tick. Never saw that coming. Hope he was happy with that too, cause she is the only family member who could make it. For some odd reason, none of Emily's family even show up and we're never told why. That's a first. Anyway, Brad duckfoots his way into a park carrying a kite and meets Emily and her 5 year-old daughter Ricki--hereafter known as Ricky-tick--which makes the kid sound like a bug. Odd nickname, but whatever. The poor little girl is shy. Some people make a big deal out of the fact that the poor kid hid from Brad or ignored him altogether. First of all, what 5 year-old would relax with 20 sleazy producers and a camera crew sticking boom mikes into her face and trying to coerce her? Besides, we have trained any female under the age of 21 to treat any man they don't know as a potential rapist. Of course the poor child was scared! She hides behind her mom like any normal 5 year-old under the circumstances and leers suspiciously at Brad like he's Chester the Molester. He pulls out the kite and gives her some space and finally they fly kites together just like he did with her momma. They head back to Emily's and I'm relieved to see that Emily is the best paid, 24 year-old, "Hospital Event Planner" in the nation. Cool, Brad; gold mine part duex. Touring some of that Hendrick's Money Castle, Brad plays clown to get Ricki-tick to like him. They play board games and other highly romantic things and finally Emily puts the Tick to bed. The little one hands him a hand-drawn picture that still adorns his refrigerator (Hmmm?) before she heads off for the night and Emily tells Brad she wants him to tuck her in. She did? Conveniently, Emily tells Brad she's already asleep as he arrives at her bedside and he gets stiffed again. Finally, they head downstairs for some adult time and just when I think this is going to get good, Brad pulls a wimp-out worthy of a full Mesnick, with a slice of Weatherman vagina-whine on the side. "Your daughter is upstairs and I could kiss you. But I'm just not." Emily stares at him like she wonders if he's gay. "Hey. If this works out, she's always going to be up there?" Truer words. But Brad pulls an all-time pussy choke and is about to leave before she corrals him by the door and forces him. Jesus, Brad; John Wayne just sat up in his grave and cacked up a furball. Awkward, and embarrassing. So this is the epic lovestory, eh? Hey, fine with me; cupids and hearts, cupids and hearts! C'mon Chantal, and bring your mom along with you! Team Bremily all the way! Date over.

Dump 'Em Danno!

The wingman manages to bestir his lazy ass, and Harrison emerges in week 8 to finally do his job. Keep phoning 'em in, Harrison. He and Brad do one of those lame, generic recaps that tells you what you just saw, before he heads out to line 'em up for duck hunting season.

Roses:

1) Ashley Sherbet: French-speaking rednecks from Maine. Who wouldda thunk it?

2) Nascar Emily: Cupids and hearts, cupids and hearts. Go to South Africa, Emily. Brad will molest you there.

The wingman reappears from the mists: "Surely you saw this one coming, folks? With the way Brad mispronounces the names of the two Chantal/Shawntels, you knew this showdown was coming. Drag it out Brad...when you're ready."

Brad: "Shawn-tel/tal....................................................O!"

The ZipperRipper strides forward in a horrid red dress and funnel-cake hairdo. Damn, did the Money Shot fix her hair? Hideous.

Dumped: Shawn-tel-tal..............................................Munster! No kidding. I'm glad I took my blood pressure medicine for this one. Shawntel leaves and is classy to the hilt. Make a fine Bachelorette, but probably not to be with that profession.

Brad re-enters and toasts as they head to South Africa to pester some defenseless animals. The Pirate will be there.

2/14--Happy Valentines Day! It's the Return of the 2007, Texas Brad-Bot

2011-02-15T16:37:00.000-08:00

Before I dive into an episode that reminded me of having my molars extracted with fire tongs, I promised last week to address the various scandals about the Bachelor floating around the net and in the tabloids. If you are not familiar with these scandals, well, there are a ton of them: Chantal sleeps around; Michelle sleeps around with married men; Brad sleeps with Chris Harrison, etc. Let me sum up my thoughts on all of these in total: Yawn! Ok, now that that's out of the way, let's move down to the Caribbean Island of Anguilla and find out what Brad is doing besides sleeping with Chris Harrison. This was a particularly grueling night. When Brad wasn't trying to bore me to death with three bloodless dates, he was handling the remaining women with the deftness of an iron pizza pan. Then he shut down altogether and made like the Brad of yore. But before we get there, I've got some good news: those damn text messages have stopped, at least for now. Perhaps switching my ISP did the trick. We might never know.

The Wingman Appears... Signaling 6 More Weeks of Winter

Well 'lo and behold, who have we here? Yes, Chris Harrison finally emerges from whatever cocktail lounge he's been hiding in all season, and greets the women outside their new digs in Anguilla. The wingman comes sauntering up looking crisp and rested (as he should), but he ain't foolin' me. I can see that under his button-up dress casual the sure signs of a wetsuit. Harrison describes a 4-date week on the horizon--3, 1-on-1 dates, and 1, group date from hell. He drops the card and departs; the snorkel bouncing in his back pocket and the unmistakable slap of his swim fins as he heads off. It sucks to be Harrison. Shawntel Munster hops up, reads the date card and calls out Nascar Emily for some 1-on-1 action.

This Date Sponsored by Ambien

This was one of the stranger dates I have ever seen on this show...which is fitting, because Nascar Emily is one of the weirder contestants they've ever had. I've spent weeks trying to figure her out. Something about her just never fit. Have you noticed that she never speaks with the other women? Every time the girls are around cutting up in some tomfoolery or talking about who is the next to be sent home that Emily is never seen uttering a word? She speaks in an occasional Private Interview, or very occasionally with Brad, but that's all. If she's seen speaking with another girl, it's just her sitting there nodding seriously while some pain in the ass like Michelle whines about something. Emily has zero interaction with the other women. She just sits there like a marble angel, if she's seen at all. It's been driving me nuts. But I think I've finally figured it out and cracked the case: this chick is dead. She's some airy-fairy spirit Fleiss has hired to come floating onto the set to do a Private Interview every now and then. She may even be CGI. Regardless of her mortality or lack thereof, Brad comes lurking into the women's digs, ogles them all in the pool, and then spirits Nascar Emily away and to a helicopter. I was kinda' hoping she would fly outside it, but no dice. He puts her in the chopper and they fly around so the camera crews can pay back the Anguilla Chamber of Commerce for the freebies, and then they head to some sandbar, fittingly called "Sandy Island." Damn, these Anguillans are original. Anyway, the chopper dumps them on the sandbar with a picnic basket full of booze and departs. Now what happens next? Well, it's all in the eye of the beholder, isn't it? But since this is my blog, I'm beholden. So, to call this date riveting, would be an insult to a rivet. Dig this intense talk:

B: "I like it out here."

E: "Me too."

(*crickets)

E: "What are you thinking?"

B: "It's a really cool view."

(*crickets)

They sit there with an invisible six foot-thick wall between them and make rumblin', bumblin' and stumblin' small talk. She finally takes the hint as he stumbles around and moves forward for a few tepid pecks. They escape the sandbar somehow and Brad takes her for dinner on the beach. They sip some white wine and exchange a few 'amazings' and she starts talking about her daughter and Brad asks about meeting her. Emily sighs loudly. She remains non-committal so Brad presses and then gushes about breaking the rules and he assures her she gets a rose at the next ceremony and will definitely be going to Charlotte. She just smiles and refuses to commit despite his rogue rule-breaking. (According to the previews, he needn't have worried.) They head to the surf's edge and make out a little. "My kiss with Emily was more than just a kiss." Ok. Yeah, I know; I'm sure Emily's legions of fans are swearing they just saw the second coming of Romeo and Juliet--and maybe they did. Maybe this is Brad Womack's and Emily Maynard's idea of love. Well if that's what we just witnessed then this is love shared by two extremely boring people--even by Shakespeare's standards. Some are undoubtedly seeing

cupids dancing through the meadow. I saw what looked like concrete set. Respectful admiration is one thing, but zero passion is another. Some will cry that this is Southern Reserve; after all, these are two people from well South of the Mason-Dixon Line. My take on that is simple: the wench queen is a South Georgia girl--born and bred. She and her family are so reserved that for the first year I was with her, I thought they were physiologically incapable of farting. (I have since learned differently.) And there my thoroughly unspoiled southern belle sat last night on my right like always, watching Brad and Emily's weird mating ritual and suddenly blurted, "Oh, go on and kiss your sister, why don't you!" The House of Barbarossa rests. Mercifully, date over.

The Munster Hangs Around

While Brad and Emily were trying to put me to sleep, a date card arrived back at the girl's digs and it's announced that Shawntel Munster will get the next 1-on-1. I've liked this girl all season; she's down to earth, fun, and shockingly normal, especially for this show. Brad meets her with a bike beside him and takes her on a tour around the local markets of Anguilla. Showing her place in the pecking order, she gets no helicopter, no secluded sandbar or yacht, but she seems to have a good time anyway. Truthfully, as robotic as Brad becomes from here on out, he appeared to have about a thousand times better and more relaxed date with her than he did with Emily...and a hell of a lot better than he will have later. They go to the market, get some love advice from some old woman who must be a local character, and they go have a boring picnic. Brad is hyper-relaxed, but in truth, there is nothing going on here, at least for him. She tells him she is falling in love with him and he acts like she offered him a coupon for half off on his next pizza instead of her heart. As night falls, he takes her out to a beach bungalow to have dinner. Here we find out just how little they have talked. Shawntel speaks about her family and then asks him: "So, your parents aren't still together?" Brad has pummeled us with stories of his deadbeat dad. Clearly, Madam Munster is not in the loop. But to be fair, he speaks openly and honestly with her...like you would with a friend. Brad gets a little drunk and then hits on her like any guy would as the rain starts to fall. Cue music and kissing. Brad hints that more surprises are to come. Suddenly musicians and revelers come out of the dark under the gazebo and Brad tells her: "We're about to have a concert with Bankie Banx." Cool! Who the hell is Bankie Banx? Brad reads off a cue card and lets us know. "Bankie Banx is probably the most famous singer on Anguilla--maybe the entire Caribbean!" Isn't that a bit like being proclaimed the Heavyweight Champion of Luxembourg? Regardless, Banx comes out onstage and why am I not the least bit surprised? He's a moth-eaten old Rastafarian who smiles at them and even through my TV I can smell the rum-soaked reefer smoke. The band strikes up some reggae and Brad and Shawntel dance around a bit and gush about each other in Private Interviews. They ditch the world-renowned Bankie Banx and Brad hauls her into the surf so I can ogle the enormous tattoo on her lower back. Wow, that's a biggie. Hot too. Hey, this is my blog and I like 'em on women, so tough. Date over.

Bony Britt's Waterloo

While Brad and Shawntel having been hanging around getting a buzz from the smoke coursing off of Bankie Banx, a date card has arrived back at the digs letting Bony Britt know her moment has finally arrived. Britt pretties herself up as Ashley Sherbert happily assures her that the coming date with "their" boyfriend will go just fine. "There's no rose on these dates, so you're sure of coming home!" Thanks for the foreshadowing, Ashley. Naturally this means Britt is a goner, and quickly. I'd followed along with my teeth bared for this one. It was so obvious he was gonna' clobber her out of existence...but once they got on the yacht and she sat with him with a bikini on, my snarky sadism subsided. I had seen her in clothing when I dubbed her "Bony", but when I saw her in a bathing suit, it didn't seem so funny anymore. Oh, don't get me wrong; the snarker in my blood was hurtling through my mind like lightning as one after another fish-in-a-barrel joke raced through my mind--Britt jumped off the cliff and made a splash in the water like a sole raindrop falling from the sky; with no splash, a 9.5 from the Chinese judge--but the honest truth, in my opinion, is that this young woman has an eating disorder, and Reality Show or not, I'm not going to make fun of her for that. There was nothing between them and Brad dumped her--date over.

Tolling the Bell of a Man's Apocalypse

You see? This is the reason I like Brad Womack so much: he's as dumb as I am. He actually let some producer-demon convince him that taking three highly competitive, sleep-deprived and alcohol-soaked women out in bikinis for a competitive photo shoot for Sports Illustrated's Swimsuit Edition would be a barrel of laughs. He barges into their rooms at 2:00 in the morning with a camera crew and lights blazing to wake them up. The women glare blearily at him. I'm sure Brad was happy they don't let these women carry firearms cause one of them would have shot him dead. Brad gushes in a P.I. "These women don't know it, but I've arranged for them do something millions of women dream of: pose for Sports Illustrated!" Uh, no. No, Brad; about a hundred avaricious super-model types dream of doing this, the other 180 million women in the country cringe at the thought of someone pointing a camera at them when they're wearing a bikini. Dumbass. With total disregard for the personalities involved, Brad leads them stumbling across the way to a bungalow where a hoard of make-up and hair people await them. Informed they will be posing in bikinis, Michelle, being one of those avaricious super-model types, raises an eyebrow and smirks; the other two, however...? Ashley Sherbert dons a red bikini and shows that she has been blessed with former Bachelorette Jillian Harris' door mouse metabolism and hasn't gained so much as an ounce despite being the biggest drinker in the lot. But that doesn't mean she's happy. Covering her top with her hands, she bemoans the fact that compared to her two surgically-altered friends, her tits are pimples. But the real sound of impending nightmare chimes when ZipperRipper Chantal speaks while getting her hair done: "I feel like a lard butt!" Whoops. True, Chantal has succumbed to what normal women do on this show and put on the "Bachelor 10" from all the laying around eating and being on an all-alcohol diet. But it's what she says next that makes my ears ring. "I...I feel fat today." Oh, shit. I've been married often enough and long enough to hear the tolling of the apocalypse bell now. It sounds to me like on top of everything else, "Aunt Flow" has come for her monthly visit. Brad, you're a dead man. Marching along in clueless oblivion, Brad leads the women down to the beach like the Pied Piper on the way to meet his own firing squad. The S.I. people arrive, the cameras come out, and here we go. God only knows how long they were at this or in what order it occurred, but what we were shown is that Sherbert went first. Buoyed by several shots of "liquid backbone" she jumps around with her vivacious energy while Brad stands there with the other two looking like Gomer Duckfoot watching. The S.I. photog skeeze promptly talks Ashley out of her top. She whips off the red band-aid and places some conch shells over her A cups. The ZipperRipper goes next and...Gulp. Ok, I'll say it quietly, in a hushed tone, because you know I mean it: Argh! Chantal pouts at the photographer and Bachelor 10 or no, his camera practically catches fire. Then she also pulls off her top and unleashes her cannon shells. Brad, fearing his cute little boat shorts will spontaneously combust, turns his head aside. "Oh, oh, ok." The Money Shot sneers in a private interview that Ashley and Chantal are easily led, and she has too many morals for that, so her top will stay on. To celebrate her advanced morality, Michelle gets Brad down on the sand and recreates a scene out of From Here to Eternity, but instead of passionate kissing, she dry humps him into the sand like they're filming Shaving Ryan's Privates instead. Ring. Ring Ring. Chantal and Ashley turn away, "Why are we watching this?!" Brad's shellshocked face pops up in another P.I. "I shouldn't have done that! Chantal and Ashley are going to be pissed and they have every right to be!" Heh, ya think? Brad finally gets them up under some gazebo later in the afternoon judging by the sun, and they all pour in some drinks that look like cucumber margaritas, but they must have been tasty because they all look to have had a gallon each. Brad stands around like the unfortunate brother of King Midas--everything he touches turns to shit--call him King Feces--and tries to halt the meltdown. He turns this way and that, confronted by an angry, sunbaked, exhausted, and drunk woman no matter which way he looks. Sensing belatedly that he's standing in a live bear trap with no escape, he shuts down like the coil on a 40 year-old refrigerator. That, ladies and gentleman, will be the end of Mr. Womack's emotions for the night. The Brad-droid from 2007 is back in all his glory. (I'm sure Nascar Emily's fans are sure he shut down cause he's met his One and doesn't want to deal with these whiny bitches. Maybe they're right.) He then clinically examines each woman like they're some strange new family of fungi he's recently discovered. Dragging a thoroughly bombed Sherbert aside, he pats her head while she blubbers drunkenly. Sensing distressed emotion from the strange creature, the Brad-bot goes and procures the rose. Chantal and Michelle, who are laying on some bamboo mat under the gazebo and fighting passing out, hear his gears clicking and whirring as he tries to slip in and get the rose. Caught in the act, they glare at him with daggers of disgust. Ring. Ring. Did the producer's order this? I would have eaten the rose, thorns and all, before I handed it out in that atmosphere. He slips away and approaches the soused Sherbert. She starts begging drunkenly, "Don't send me home! Don't send me home!" Hey Ashley, I know you're hammered and all, but he has the rose--relax. He serves up the flower and then they head back. He pokes his noggin around the edge of the gazebo and looks at his two remaining hell cats, "Now...now comes the uncomfortable part." Both women turn their heads away and glare past him without a word. Brad mumbles and stumbles a bit and Chantal finally succumbs. She slaps her hands over her eyes and bawls like a toddler. The Brad-droid senses a problem. "Would...would you walk with me?" She shakes her head but never speaks; her hands held over her face as tears pour out between her fingers. It gets so bad even Sherbert and the Money Shot take the hint and vacate. Brad lays down beside her while she bawls and tries to impose some Vulcan-like logic on the situation: "I have very specific reasons for handing these roses out. You're trying to judge what you would do in my shoes."

"Yes, I am!" she fires back. "There are three of us; if you can't pick me over the other two, maybe you should just send me home!"

Many people take this as bitchy whining. I don't. If I were in a contest over one gal with two other guys and she handed one of them a gift I didn't get, I'd take it as a sign I needed to hit the bricks. He keeps trying to talk with her, but she snatches her hand away from him angrily and then gets up.

"Are we ok?"

She crosses her fingers, "Sure."

"Should we take a walk?"

"Let's call it a day." And she hugs him coldly before she turns and heads toward the surf. Brad, sunbaked, exhausted, and probably drunk, collapses into a chair like he's been beaten with a ball bat. When he does manage to stand up, he staggers away down the beach with an ungainly gait like C-3PO with sand wedged into his gyros.

Date, and Brad for this week: Done.

The Wingman Got Dressed Up For This?

The women arrive for the Cocktail Party barefoot? What the hell was that about? They finally get a night where their feet won't kill them standing there for hours and it turns out they won't need it. Before the women can even taste any alcohol, Brad gets cornered by the wingman and he tells Harrison, "I want to break some rules here. I don't want a Cocktail Party."

Harrison is horrified. "What? Are you sure? I got dressed in a suit."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"But, but, but look; I've got my cheese knife and champagne glass all ready for tinging?"

But no dice. Brad has seen enough. Anymore crying and his circuits will melt. Harrison mopes his way up to the women, absolutely bummed that his half his signature moves have been snatched away from him, "Brad doesn't realize I left a Charter in the middle of the ocean to be here and has decided he doesn't need a Cocktail Party. C'mon."

He lines then up and here comes Brad looking like the walk of the living dead.

Already safe: Ashley Sherbert--drunk out of her gourd but we're going to her hometown.

Roses:

1) Nascar Emily--she floats over, flutters her angel wings and accepts the rose before vanishing in a wisp of smoke. Her supporters, "The Pit Crew" all stand and cheer.

2) Shantel Munster--The Mortician-friend scores a hometown, but previews make it seem Brad is creeped out when he meets Uncle Herman and Aunt Lily at the parlor.

The wingman re-enters, glares at Brad and points at the rose and barks: "Can you count?" and stalks off angrily.

3) ZipperRipper Chantal--looked half ready to bawl and half-ready to head home.

Cut: Brit earlier, and the Money Shot--thank you! The editors actually manage a miracle that has escaped them all season: Michelle is shown departing without a word. Yeah, right. Anyway, next week is hometown fun! See ya then.

2/7--Down And Out In Costa Rica

2011-02-07T19:59:00.000-08:00

Before I get going this week, a quick 'thank you' to all who have commented on the blog. The feedback helps immensely knowing that some people are enjoying reading. A special shout out to the folks over at Joker's Updates, who have been very nice in their comments, as well as the usual gang at Misfits, who have been supportive of the Blast for several years now. If you want to leave a comment, just click on the link at the bottom. It only takes a minute and the support is really appreciated. Oh, and before we take off to hot, sweaty, rainy Costa Rica, I have to let you know that those irritating text messages will not stop. I even changed my ISP to a mi-fi hotspot and still they come crashing through the blog. I appreciate your patience, but we are just gonna' have to deal with it. Ok, onto last night.

*Beep! No worries this week, hon. This was one of our magical ones! And thank you for the flowers! Ur so sweet!!!!!

Let's Sweat Until Our Too Tight Clothing Sticks To Our Bods

Brad starts us off with a lengthy soliloquy about how much bigger a douche ba...I mean just how much better a man he is, as he wanders around some product placement lodge gimme in balmy Costa Rica. Seriously though, I like the guy; can't help it. But boy was he one down and out dude last night. He's stuck in a tropical paradise with 8 hot babes--ok, make that 6--but anyway, hot women and an all expenses paid opportunity to whore around and the guy acted like he needed a Prozac patch last night. True, until he rids himself (and us) of the high maintenance maggot, Michelle Money, he's got it coming to him. Unfortunately, that means coming at us. But the good news is that the producer's have decided to bring her forward to show Brad some of the double-barreled 'bitch' we have be seeing in every private interview with her all along. True, she's a paid actress hamming it up for the producer-slime, but I'm ready for them to give her her check and let her be on her way.

A lightning quick intro and we see Brad standing around in a too tight polo shirt trying not to sweat in the 110% humidity. Fat chance. The women's plane lands and we see Ashley Sherbert predict she is willing to get down and dirty with Brad in the jungle. Really? Don't you need five minutes alone with him for that? She vanished this episode as all the attention danced about between ZipperRipper Chantal and the ever dramatic Money Shot. The women pull up to the resort in a jeep and...they let Michelle drive? Whose malfunction was responsible for that choice? I'd be terrified to let her near the wheel of anything. Anyway, they do a quick commercial for The Springs Resort & Spa and then hustle over to meet Brad. He's standing out back, the beads of perspiration soaking through his shirt, and he gives them the tour. As has been the case this season, it's up to Brad to do the explaining and deliver the first date card because the wingman is down at the Resorts bar and probably already loaded. Nascar Emily, looking like someone finally convinced her to scrape off a few pounds of the make-up she normally wears, snatches up the card and calls out the ZipperRipper for her second one-on-one. This gives Alli Booty a chance to whine that she hasn't had a one-on-one with Brad yet. Don't worry, dear, it's coming...like a thrown spear coming right for the side of your head, it's coming.

I'm Screwin' in the Rain! Just Screwin' in the Raaaaiin!!

Michelle heard Chantal's name called and hustles off for her first bitch-moment of the night: "I don't know why Chantal's name was on the date card." Uhhhh, cause he likes her? More than you. "I hope she gets attacked by monkeys. Or apes." Ok, enough with this chick. I'm skipping her P.I.'s for the rest of the night. See you at the waterfall, you slag. Anyway, Brad takes Chantal to a helicopter and flies her into the middle of the jungle for some zip-lining. Way to change it up Fleiss. And it rains. Which is always seems to do when these two are together. They zipline all over the jungle and Brad tells us how happy he is. But the good part comes later, when we see this season's fortitude challenge acted out again; namely, can Brad get within five feet of this babe without his zipper exploding? As night falls, they sit down on the river's edge to enjoy a luau-style dinner. They haven't even opened the wine when the rain starts to fall again. Running through the rain they head to Brad's pad to dry off. Brad, being a gentleman, insists Chantal go and put on a white, button-down Van Heusen so he (and we) can all ogle her. She doesn't get three steps out of the bathroom before the director is alerting the seamstress to get ready. "Oh man, I'm in trouble here," Brad moans as she bops over to him smiling. Brad sits down gripping the arms of the chair and clearly fighting for control, as she stands in front of him. Swallowing hard, he stares at her, his mouth agape and she slithers down next to him, coiling her arm inside his. He stares, his eyes as round as saucers, and drool puddles in his lap. "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii," She breathes at him in a throaty voice. Brad's eyes go catatonic, a noiseless explosion goes off in the center of his skull, and his brains run out his ears like yesterday's oatmeal. Pow!! Sorry, seamstress lady, looks like your work is never done this season. Date, and Brad: Done.

*Beep! He-heh-hehehe-he! Double LOL

While Brad has been getting more of his wardrobe destroyed, a date card arrives back at the Resort telling Alli Booty that the other 1-on-1 date is all hers. This leaves the mute, doe-eyed, Bony Britt to stare ahead in a calorically-deficient mope as she realizes she is the only woman remaining without a 1-on-1.

Rappelling or Repelling?

It's time for some group-date hell. Maybe this is why Brad was such a Debbie Downer all night. We've gotten to the point in the season where even the audience is sick of watching the deadwood, I can't even imagine what it must be like for Brad. He hauls a whole stack of it--less Nascar Emily and producer's drama-dream, the Money Shot--to a scenic waterfall so they can all have another terror-inspired moment of togetherness. He walks them out on the platform and Jackie Gordon promptly drops a brick in her climbing shorts. Yet another woman terrified of heights being required to "confront her fears." Shame she's gonna' have to do it alone. The ever athletic, Shawntel Munster, traipses past her and bounces down the rappelling line like Spiderman. As she bounces down the waterfall, and Jackie sweats a bucket of white-hot terror, Brad shows some sense by keeping his eyes out behind him. The Money Shot is angrily glaring at the assemblage with her Manson Lights on high beam. "I'm pissed! Brad promised he would never rappel with anyone else--we made a pact!" Brad finally convinces Jackie to head over the top while keeping one out behind him to make sure Michelle hasn't got a butcher knife stashed in her climbing suit, and can't manage both tasks at once. A nervous eye cast to his six, he practically shoves Jackie over the edge, "Hurry up, you pussy before I get shanked between the shoulder blades here!" Jackie makes it down safely to join the other women at the bottom. Brad turns back to Michelle and she pummels him with punches. "We had a pact!" Brad backpedals like crazy. "I was saving you for last!" he reels back trying to hold her off him. "I thought we could go down together?" She smiles like a ferocious feline and purrs at him. They go over the edge together as the women watch them descend the waterfall. If Jackie had been allowed a cell phone, she could have called her mother to have her pick her up at the airport.

The climbing torture over, Brad takes the women to Hot Springs for some seriously depressing whining. Jackie decides she might as well get this over with, and moves out with Brad first. He's there to check on her after practically tossing her over the waterfall. "I'm ok. It would have been good if we could have done it together?" Brad grimaces like she just punched him in the balls. "Uh...maybe one day." Jackie, it was nice knowing you. Congratulations; you get to escape this show with some lovely diamond earrings, many miles travelled, and your dignity and reputation in tact. Next up, a thoroughly hammered Michelle tries to corral him and give him a bunch of shit about Chantal. Speaking of our fair ZipperRipper, she's back at the Resort room down the way hanging out with the next day's victim, Alli Booty. Both gals look to have a snoot full of wine and the producers have thoughtfully stashed a beetle in the room and told Chantal to terrorize Alli with it. Chantal picks the bug up with a magazine and chases her with it. Alli completely freaks out, screams, and throw a glass of booze at Chantal, screaming so loud in the process, she interrupts Brad getting his balls busted off by Michelle. They return to their talk and Michelle bitches him out for liking Chantal. Brad is clearly pissed, so he switches to ever-sweet, Nascar Emily. Emily sits with him on the edge of the springs and basically tells him she knows how to sabotage a relationship like an expert. Brad's face falls. Having seen enough, Brad gathers the women and tells them that there will be no rose tonight. He wanders off in a pout.

*Beep! If Only I'd Been There To Comfort You Sweetie!

Dumped at the Altar

Alli Booty, whose date card had read, "Meet me at the altar," sits around being nervous and fielding questions from the other gals. Chantal is gleefully pressing her about the date when Brad comes riding up outside on a horse. Strangely, he has a tiny little horse in tow, and two baby-horses? Is this a circus act? Why the little horse? He's taking the largest woman left on a pint-sized ride? Alli grins anyway and struggles aboard the poor animal. Talk about weird-looking. Alli gnashes her enormous choppers and straightens her man-shoulders as she climbs aboard her sagging mount. The horse looked like it wanted to bolt. The sadistic producers must have fallen out of the control truck laughing at this visual. Alli's not a bad-looking woman, but she is somewhat oversized in her features and nowhere near in the same league as most of the remaining women. Brad leads her deep into the jungle as the two little baby horses tag along for some reason I can't divine. They stop near some cave and Brad gets her off the tiny horse before it's back gets broken and slams a crash helmet onto Alli's head. "We're going into this forty million year-old cave." Her fear of bugs clearly established by the planted beetle, Alli scowls fearfully into the dank cave and Brad has to pull her inside. She cringes and follows him around fearfully as the camera pans onto every bug and spider they can find. Alli screams and vows to "throw up" as she notices bats hanging from the cave's ceiling. "Oh my god! They won't come after us, will they?" "They have no interest in us," he assures her. "How do you know?" Brad turns and stares at her and I was hoping he was gonna' blurt, "Cause I'm Batman!" but he doesn't. He just vows to protect her from the nasty old bats and leads her up a cave stream to the 'altar'. The altar, it turns out, are some stone steps carved into the cave floor by a running spring. Alli slips and slides as Brad pulls out a one inch thick scarf and lays it down in the running water for her to sit on. And I thought the producers were laughing about the horse. Alli grimaces and sits on the razor-thin cloth that's covering slimy, moss-covered rocks as water splashes up her shorts. I could almost hear Harrison laughing. The whole thing was as romantic as lounging around a sewer. Gross. The scene switches and they've managed to somehow get both of them onto a floating table-island for dinner. Predictably, Brad hears gurgling while Alli is speaking and asks, "Are we sinking?" Thanks for the metaphor. She tries to talk and he finally puts her out of her misery with a dumpjob.

Now For Your Completely Unplanned, Totally Spontaneous Stalker Moment

Brad, looking shot, wanders back into his room to sniff the lingering odor of Chantal's perfume and feel better. He tells the strategically placed camera that he is as burned out as Charlie Sheen and needs time to collect himself.

Director: "Cue door knock!"

Unsurprisingly, the producer's have sent their favorite echo chamber, the Money Shot into his room to pester him. Brad looked like he wanted to slam the door in her face, but some arm twisting must have ensued and he invites her in. Michelle finally puts on her double-barreled bitch act in front of him. He lays there like bag of meal while she tries to molest him. Realizing he'd rather be kissing a fire hydrant in a dog kennel, she sits up and systematically announces which girls he will cut and in what order. Brad looks at her like he found her steaming and stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Finally getting the cue from the director she can leave, Michelle slithers out the door before Brad grabs a bottle of hemlock and drinks it.

Cocktail Time and Your Weekly Nascar Reminder

The party starts off with Brad having a sit down with Nascar Emily to get some clarification on her saboteur comments at the Springs. Brad sizes her up: "I'm scared of you." Nascar unfolds her angel wings and clarifies, "I pull away...but, I really care about you a lot!" The thought planted in your head not to forget this one, Brad moves off in search of fresh prey. Unfortunately, the prey finds him. The Money Shot corrals him and he all but tells her she is a total skeeze. "I feel like we've taken ten steps backward!" Finally called on her awful acting performance, Michelle turns on the waterworks. Hey, it works for everyone else. Brad manages his escape while ZipperRipper Chantal, dressed like a roman empress in a leopard print toga, holds court with Shawntel Munster, and the two babes decide based on Brad's comments that someone has been giving him a load of hell. Eyes immediately swing toward the Money Shot and after much lying and rigamarole, she finally confesses to being a stalker.

*Beep! I got the restraining order just in case! Stop hiding under your bed and call me back! I'm not mad. C'mon or you'll miss out on our big moment!

Chantal steps forward to sooth her wounded beast and rips all restraint off, "I'm, I'm in love with you! I wanted to tell since I have a rose and you know I have no ulterior motive." BUZZ! Whoa, clear violation of show etiquette. There are to be no pronouncements of love by any contestant until the Last Chance Dates... except the bat-shit crazy ones. Chantal has introduced an new element to this season. Which means she is the winner or just sealed her doom at the podium of humiliation and a spot as the next Bachelorette. Brad, me boy, I could be a selfish prick here and pray you dump her so I can ogle her for 11 weeks this summer, but I'll let you have her if you want her. Just the kinda guy I am. Anyway, Brad stares at her and then says like a robot, "Thank you." You romantic devil.

Somebody must have sent a St. Bernard into the local watering hole, because the wingman makes a shocking appearance tinging his champagne glass with his cheese knife calling a tedious week over.

Dump Em Danno!

Already safe, The Zipper Ripper.

Roses:

1) Ashley Sherbert--no more H. required. Our lone Ashley broke her vow to get down and dirty with Brad unless you can do it in a passed note.

2) Nascar Emily--still very much in the running, but this pot needs to start boiling and soon.

3) Bony Britt--the last dress filler

4) Shawntel Munster--really like this girl. Hey Fleiss, she'd make a good Bachelorette. Can't you just imagine your creeped-out Nancy Boys? Fine television, I tell ya.

The wingman comes in and notices through his bloodshot orbs that there is only one rose left,then steps into the shadows like John Wilkes Booth and loudly cocks the hammer back on a pistol and points it at Brad--just in case he's feeling rebellious.

5) The Money Shot. Yeah, he wanted to do that. (rolls eyes)

Cut: Jackie Gordon to go along with the already dismissed Alli Booty. Jackie cries but not too much and departs with her dignity intact. Good for you, Jackie. You were horribly miscast.

Next week: My take on all the Scandals (yawn) and Brad hauls the gals to some tropical locale so several can remove their bikini tops and make me a happy pirate. See ya then.