Bachelorette Week Seven Recap: Portuguese Party.

Welcome back from the long weekend.  My hangover has finally subsided, I have a week off between jobs and I am writing this post in my underwear (get excited, America).  What does that mean for you?  If you saw last night’s episode, I think you know.

And don’t worry.  I’ll get to the Jake and Sausage segment.  But first…

The boys followed the Muppet to Portugal, land of castles and castles according to the producers of the show.  I got the sense by the end of it the Muppet felt like there was too much history and not enough of Roberto and her having sex.

The first date was a Juan-on-Juan date with Roberto, who was selected purely so the Muppet could make out with him on every continent on earth.  She definitely took him to Africa to catch a World Cup game and cross that land mass off the list.  Also, appropriate.  Her voice is the human vuvuzela.

They took it to the streets of Lisbon where these two idiots couldn’t figure out how to take pictures of each other while one person was mid-air on a jump.  I have Facebook.  I have friends that are 22 years old and in sororities.  This picture is not hard to achieve.  Look up your dumbest friend.  She has ten pictures just like this in Vegas in fucking stilettos.  The Muppet and Roberto couldn’t achieve this with a professional camera crew.

Back at the room, Chicago Late Bloomer, Kirk, Pixar and the Landscaper used about a hundred variations of “Roberto is the king, they are going to a castle, I want to be the king of Aly’s castle and not Roberto, I am here to find love in Portugal”.  I left for a few minutes to rig a noose in my closet and I considered ending it all, but my fiancee asked me for a glass of water and inadvertently saved my life.

Side note, writing this in my boxers is amazing.

At the end of Roberto’s date, which was an elaborate plot for the Muppet to make sure Roberto wasn’t “too hot for her”, which even as a straight guy I can promise he is, Aly mentioned that she didn’t know how to cook.  She asked Roberto what his mother made, to which he responded “all that Spanish stuff that I don’t know what it is”.  Seriously?  I think ABC made television history there.  Roberto was inadvertently racist against himself right there.  That is sort of like seeing the matrix for the first time.  Either way, I feel like by “Spanish food” he meant like, fajitas.  And burritos.  And tacos.  Things human beings that live within a hundred miles of a Chili’s know.  It didn’t matter.  The Muppet was too busy picturing where in Tahiti her and Roberto would have sex first to notice that he is slower than a man with two broken legs.

With the Muppet’s oven pre-heated, she took a page from the Bachelorette handbook and (surprise!) took Chicago Late Bloomer and Pixar (complete with douchebag necklace) on a helicopter ride.  I feel like if you don’t like the idea of constantly being in a helicopter, you shouldn’t get in on this show.  Honestly, this show made me hate helicopters and ruined the idea that a helicopter ride could ever be romantic.  If you ride in helicopters and aren’t taking severly wounded people to UCLA medical center, you are cut.  Get it?  Cut.  Man, I love writing in my boxers.

Frank slow rolled the “super awkward” date later where they sat at a poker table (looked like it at least).  He seemed to do a good job hanging back while Pixar shot himself in the foot by basically telling the Muppet that his family would hate her for not knowing how to cook and live in fear of her husband.  Between that, the necklace and his awful English Laundry embroidered douche robe, Ty was toast. How toast was he?  So toast that Frank looked better than him even though he told the Muppet that he lived with his parents.  Good work, Ty.  Enjoy selling medical things, because at this point I said he was going home faster than a kid who pissed the bed at a sleepover.

I loved when Frank said he’d live “anywhere with you Aly”.  I mean, why not.  He lives at home with his parents.  Anywhere is probably an improvement, even her douchey Marina (obviously) apartment in San Francisco.  Side note, I feel like Frank has a pair of boxers just like the ones I am writing this post in.  At home.  On Tuesday.

The Muppet told Frank he is everything she wanted, but also everything she is scared of.  That is hilarious because I know what she means.  I’d be scared too if I was as boring as the Muppet.  The only thing exciting about her are her fake eyelashes and wondering if they would fall off on one of the various helicopter rides she is subjected to.

Next date, Kirk.  Kirk did a good job.  He seems like the only dude who can put up with her being not smart at all.  She was in a bad mood because she is stressed out about having to pick between all these dudes.  I mean, I hear you Muppet, but same time, you kind of had to expect that was going to happen when you SIGNED UP TO BE ON THE BACHELORETTE.  Side note, Kirk needs to grow out his sideburns.  Never noticed it, but once I did I couldn’t look away.  Other than that, and the really ridiculous yellow shirt Kirk wore, he was a good dude and did what he needed to do to compete with Roberto’s Latin flair and Frank’s cosmic headfuck he has going.

The Landscaper started off on a bad note when he could not operate a Vespa, but he did well later as he talked about his departed mother and his family.  I like the guy and don’t want to say anything bad about him.  He’s a good dude.  The Muppet only sees him as a friend and that is cool, I just want him to get kicked off in a good way.  He’s better off without the Muppet.

Anyway, he gave the Muppet a gift he totally slow rolled, which you KNOW I dig.  He had a bracelet with sentimental value to the Muppet which he’d held onto for weeks.  The fact that he didn’t use it in previous weeks definitely worked on the Muppet, who forgave the Landscaper for being a very awkward kisser.  I was sure at this point Pixar was getting sent home and my life had purpose again.  I mean, I think like most Americans I enjoy watching a Southerner struggle in the face of adversity.  I mean, think about how many Oscars Forrest Gump won.

Side note.  Definitely buying a bunch of candy, drinking a 40 and watching Forrest Gump in my boxers once I am done rocking this post out.  I’m not putting on jeans to go to the store either.  My world.

Real quick, here’s a picture of the Muppet looking not cute.

She definitely pissed off some producer or editor.  Probably a dude she lead on at Kelly’s Tavern in the Marina.  Poor bastard ends up crying in his slice from Pizza Orgasmica and wishing he’d popped his collar a little higher.  Damn you Muppet!!!

I am getting antsy to acknowledge the giant gorilla in the room (and also possibly catch McDonald’s breakfast, drive thru of course because I am in my boxers).  Let me just finish with a few observations from the rose ceremony.  First off, Chris Harrison’s tie was amazing.  It made me want to do drugs and look at his tie all day.  Pixar was the man who got cut and I enjoyed every minute of his defeat.  He was a little arrogant and now he is a little going home a loser on national television.  He asked “what do you do from here?” and I have the answer for you Ty.  Throw out that necklace.  Just let go.

I really enjoyed watching the goodbye in the rain, by the way.  Somehow, Ty got soaked and the Muppet was dryer than a bad turkey sandwich.  Also, real quick.  Holy balls, the Muppet’s extensions were terrible.  Right?  Living with a girl, you start to learn about these things.  I never can tell if someone has extensions.  Unless they look like this:

Now onto the Jake and Sausage interview thing.  I mean, I don’t want to recount any of it specifically, I am just going to rant, because I am fairly certain this was the event that signaled the apocalypse.   If you don’t know how to skin an animal or purify rainwater, now’s a good time to learn.

So Harrison brings Jake out and the first thing you notice is he has only buttoned maybe 3 of the 8 buttons on his lavender (or lilac, if you will) shirt.  Something had changed in him since last season, where he was just a late blooming douche flower.  Now, he had this horrible smirk on his face the entire time that made me want to literally smash his face in with a tack hammer.  There are kids I know with this smirk and I have quietly rooted for them to fall down large flights of stairs.

Sausage kicked it off by telling us that she was emotionally abused by a man she described as “emotionless”.  I have no idea what that means and am now dumber for having listened to her.  I think I had her back in the argument until she began interrupting him every two seconds.  Then I turned on Jake as he smiled like an asshole everytime he said “again, interrupting”.  I felt like this was watching two puppets debating from scripts written by 2.7 GPA students from some C average school near a beach somewhere.  Who are these peoples’ publicists?  Not only are they bad at their jobs, they are people who are publicists for Sausage and Jake.  Go to grad school.  Get out.

There were so many weird things going on here.  There was the part where Sausage called Jake out for wanting to be an actor instead of a pilot, which was definitely true.  Who was the dude/dudette who convinced him he had a chance at that?  This guy couldn’t be convincing as a dead body in a war movie.

Jake accused Sausage of cheating on him.  She told the world that he wanted to “wait until marriage”, which he didn’t refute at all.  This blew my mind.

My entire theory on why he picked Sausage was sexual in its basis.  If he was waiting, then there are only two conclusions for him not picking the hot one with the synthetic body or Tenley.  The first is that he is the dumbest man alive.  The second is that he is not into girls.  What is it, Jake?  Are you a “fame whore” as Sausage called you?  Do you need a “polly-a-graph” test?

I liked when Chris got all mad when Vienna said she hated Los Angeles.  Good man, Chris.  If any of you see her cleaning puke out of her extensions at MyHouse (I won’t be there to do it), please tell her to go back to Florida and bring Jake (who now is called The Virgin) with her.

Something was incredibly sad about the whole thing.  These people had completely lost track of who they were.  At some point, Jake was just a guy who flew planes and avoided sex with woman.  At some point, Vienna was just a girl who loved kamikaze shots and waking up with strange men on spring break in Daytona Beach.  Something happened that turned them into whatever they are now.  It might be our fault for caring so much.

Sorry, I don’t want to be a downer.  Speaking of downers, remember when Jake yelled at her and she ran out?  I said out loud a very CSI: Miami Horation line when I smirked and said “looks like Sausage just popped her casing”.  I was very proud of that.

Anyway, I’m off to get drunk on the beach by myself and show my boxers to all kinds of new and exciting people in Malibu.  I will see  you next week when Kirk gets kicked off because his father is some sort of animal-stuffing pedophile.  You saw the preview.  Yikes.



Filed under Rants and Musings

5 responses to “Bachelorette Week Seven Recap: Portuguese Party.

  1. akhisaka

    awesome. Thanks for keeping me posted.

  2. Amy

    I had dreams of smashing his smirky little face in all night long. As much as I think Vienna is a giant whorebag, I think Jake is the douchiest douche in doucheland. Gosh I can’t stand him.

    I never actually watch a whole episode (usually just the beginning, then I fall asleep, but last night I only watched the end), but I know Roberto is going to win. He is the hottest one there, she always does this little sheepish I’m-not-good-enough grin when she gives him a rose, and she did something on Ellen with pictures that sealed the deal ( ).

  3. Joy

    As much as I hate to admit it, it was easier to side with Team Sausage than Team Douche last night. I mean, how could you not feel a little for V-Card Taker? She was yanked from her trailer in Florida and forced to live in LA with her faux pilot fiance and get paid to do nothing. She was also forced to leave her dog, who Chris Harrison could not care less about, back in swamp. All I got out of last night’s episode was that cross-eyed Sausage undermines Jake and Jake is a Fame Whore who has gone from a prude late bloomer to a guy-who-is-about-to-beat-his-wife-and-doesn’t-want-the-kids-to-hear.

    As always, good work on the blog, Zack! Hope you put some pants on today buddy.

    P.S. Not everyone/everything in the Marina is douchey…I like my hood. 🙂

    • Zack

      You are a good exception to the Marina. Then again, I am not like anyone in Beverly Hills where I live. The point is, you can live somewhere douchey and not be a douche. Thx for reading JOY 🙂

  4. Hahaha this is great – I love your writing style – it’s NOT that hard to jump, you’d think they’d be able to nail that picture after 1 or 2 tries – but apparently not 🙂

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