Bachelorette is Here.

As last year’s Bachelor season wound down, I found myself watching final six episodes or so.  Sort of the way you stare transfixed at a bad car accident on the shoulder of the 101.  It’s rubberneck worthy.  It’s a painful experience that appeals the same way a horror films does.  You find yourself screaming at how stupid everyone is and then secretly accessing the horrible side of yourself where you actually think it will be justice for these idiots to be embarrassed on television.

And, oh yeah, I got thousands of views every time I wrote about it.  Literally, thousands.

So guess what, America?  I’m covering it.  I am all over it this season.  I don’t care how bad it hurts.  I’m like Prefontaine, I can endure all the pain the world can dish out.  That and I almost prefer this version to the Bachelor.  Sure, it’s fun to see a ton of hot girls dealing with the reality that they have to sleep with a total stranger or lose a contest on national television, but there is nothing more fun than watching 30 douchebags peacocking for a total stranger.  It taps into my favorite part of psychological observance.  I have spent my whole life watching my friends, enemies and total strangers strike out with women for either being too aggressive, not aggressive enough, too dumb, too mean, too slow, too arrogant, too perverted or too boring.  I spent most of my life trying to simply NOT do any of those things, and that has proven to be more effective than actually having a strategy.   Or is that my strategy?  Is this Seinfeld?  Is this a show about nothing?

The point is you get to see all of these things immediately and in a condensed period of time on the Bachelorette.  You know speed-dating?  This is speed-douching.  These guys get shot down so fast and frequently you think you are watching The Pacific.  Only instead of it being quality television that makes you realize the value of human life, the absurdity of war and the valor of the men fighting, you are hoping the entire cast of the Bachelorette gets food poisoning and what follows is two hours of idiots in Boiler Room suits throwing up.

If you remember Ali from last season, you’d know she is the one who is the most annoying sigher and moaner and whiner on the western seaboard.  If there was a siege on a hostage situation, I’d just tell her I killed her dog, make her cry into a megaphone and wait for the sonic torture to get the terrorists to come out with the white flags flying.  If I have a secret hope for this season, it’s that she never gets upset.  Not because I care what happens to her, but just because I don’t want anymore of that weird Pomeranian whining we heard when she debated quitting her job for the lobotomized fighter pilot Jake.  Let’s be honest, you quit your job anyway.  Let’s be honest again.  What dude prefers an unemployed girl who whines a lot?  Just saying…

Other than finding out one guy was an “entertainment wrestler”, which to me sounds like a guy who oil wrestles at an all male revue off the Strip in Vegas, this episode was just about meeting a bunch of guys and watching them do obscure things that would definitely file you in the creepster category in real life.  For instance, let’s start with Overweight-Not-Bald-Yet-Vin Diesel

This guy made a few mistakes besides looking like Vin Diesel.  The first was giving her some yellow baby shoes.  I was also reading about the Dodgers when this was going on, so I don’t remember why he gave her them, all I know is that he shouldn’t have.  Also, he tried the half-cock-block maneuver on the wrestler guy.  Look, cock-blocking is a part of the game for most guys, but going halfway is only showing the girl you don’t have the guts to go all the way.  If you are going to do it, do it.  Here’s how I’d have gone about it:

Hey, look.  I don’t know if you like me.  I don’t even know if I like you yet.  That said, there’s one dude out there who claims to be a professional wrestler.  I know the producers of the show want you to keep him around, but if you do, you are going to end up kissing him at some point.  If you do that, it will be on television.  When you end up marrying NONE of us, begging for your job back, trying to meet a normal nice guy at a coffee shop, you will be really, really glad you never made out with a pro wrestler in front of the entire United States.  That said, do what you gotta do.

You know?  I mean, just put the guy down with a dose of reality.  Anyway, my favorite person on the show is I am calling McDouchey for looking like a Canadian half-ass attempt at Patrick Dempsey.  This guy had the world’s best tie.  He looked like Andy Bernard from The Office.  He looked like the sale rack at Brooks Brothers Oklahoma City.  He looked like Fresca with vodka in it.

"a steak diane, a clams casino and your phone number doll"

I told Emily that this guy would be getting a rose if the show was about who I wanted to party with all the time forever.  I swear to the higher ups that I could take this guy to Orange County and we’d just destroy the lonely Newpsies living off settlement money.  He’s the kind of guy I can see saw Wall Street as a little kid and just said “yes, that’s the ticket”.  I mean, he’s maybe not a catch for Ali, but I think he is effing hilarious and hope he wins the whole damn thing.  I can picture this man ordering “golden retriever” at a restaurant.  He is a maniac.

The there was “Shooter”, the man who thought it was a good idea to tell Ali he suffered from premature ejaculation as an icebreaker.  I mean, I did they get to this guy at the audition and brainwash him?  I mean, again, he can roll to Newport with me and McDouchey any day, but damn.  For every guy like this I just see a bad father who didn’t explain the situation to his son.

Then there was Chicago Late Bloomer, the man who quit his good job to become a screenwriter (drink coffee professionally) and move home with his parents.  I am pretty sure he lied to Ali about moving to Paris.  Also, he needs to know telling a girl you are a screenwriter doesn’t work.  If you were actually a real screenwriter, you would not be on a reality dating show.  You’d be in Hawaii with a call girl drinking POG juice.  This guy just seems too stoked on everything.  That scares off girls faster than Mommy issues.  This poor guy is going to be an amazing dumping on television.  He is going to cry so hard.  Oh man.

There was the Pocket Weatherman who talked more than I do.  He also suffers from looking like an 8th grader.  I think he and Ali could form some sort of terrible Voltron together.  They could form the world’s most annoying person.  Can you even fathom it?  I can.  Ratings.  Then they have a baby.  The baby becomes the star of Baby Bachelor.  Ratings.  Man, I should be a developer.

So, I can’t say I care at all about anyone on the show so far, which is good because my coverage (which won’t be weekly, rather intermittent throughout the season) will be less sensitive, if even sensitive at all.  As of right now, I am rooting for the food poisoning situation as I previously mentioned.

6 Comments

Filed under Rants and Musings

6 responses to “Bachelorette is Here.

  1. Michele

    SOOOOO funny!!! Love it, keep ’em coming!

  2. Please re-cap each week. I am an old lady and can’t stay awake through an entire episode for the life of me. Last night, I fell asleep before she even shook one guy’s hand in front of the house.

    My favorite guy so far? Chicago Late Bloomer. So artsy, with his cute little emo-glasses.

  3. Jenna

    Now, I can’t say who I know or how I know but I would like to say that MAYBE one of these guys didn’t want to say what he said but sort of had to say what he said whether he wanted to or not. “Reality TV.”

    Keep up the good work, though, pretty funny.🙂

  4. I actually caught some of the first show although haven’t seen it before. The dude who did a flip off the car – impressive stunt. Surprised, though, how they jumped on the wrestler dude, he seems harmless. The Canadian with the hair, though, why did she “rose” him???

  5. Michele

    You left out Roberto…..very suave.
    Please recap every show…it is hystrical!

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