For those of you who only know me for my USC coverage, I have a yearly Tuesday tradition of covering the worst/best television show ever created by man: The Bachelor(ette). While many of you may decide arrogantly to skip these Tuesday recaps (and that is your arrogant right until spring practice commences), I want you to understand my deep draw to this show. In the same way the 405 bottlenecks after a car accident, society bottlenecks at the Bachelor, which is where reality television and everything you ever hated about everyone you ever slept with intersect. If you want to know why China is kicking our ass right now, watch the Bachelor. If you want to know if global warming is real, watch the Bachelor.
Also, combined with my USC coverage it ensures me and my arrogant readers that I have the single most attractive blog following of any writer in Los Angeles. If you don’t believe me, go up to the hottest girl at your office and ask them this tomorrow: “what the fuck was up with that girl with the fangs?” and prepare for sex. You’re welcome. I mean it.
For all you ladies out there that have been avoiding me due to football and cancer stories, for the next however many weeks this trainwreck airs, I am yours again (at least on Tuesdays). The rest of the week I will need to talk about malt liquor, football and bears just to be able to look myself in the mirror. Yes, I am drinking right now.
Let’s dive in.
I did not watch the Bachelor when this Brad character was on it the first time because I was not married or engaged yet (which magically coincides with my knowledge of the show, weird). That said, I do understand he apparently left two women at the alter on the final episode which immediately made me laugh until I was informed by a few nearby women that this was a BAD thing. I don’t know, I tend to feel like losing on this show is winning.
To begin, there was the most homo-erotic intro ever for Brad, which included a re-enactment of the pain he experienced from reading blogs that were calling him a douchebag. All that was missing was him cutting himself and screaming NOOOOOOO to the heavens. You can keep that suggestion, by the way, ABC. Being a blogger who calls a lot of people douchebags, I felt really proud at that moment, but again some women around me explained his pain was not a good thing. That said, Brad quickly earned himself a nickname with me by talking about his “trust issues” at least twenty times in a scant two minute segment. Somewhere in Hollywood, a therapist explained to him that the reason he left two girls on the altar was his father and his trust issues and not the fact that he may or may not be attracted to women. Just a thought. I dub thee The Trust Fund. Side note, I came close to calling him Dirty Dancing or Shitty Swayze for obvious reasons, but cancer seemed off limits right now being that I just had it.
So, the Trust Fund spends a lot of time with Chris Harrison (who just finished his own year of therapy for his association with The Bachelor Pad) who valiantly tries to get him to come out of the closet, but he won’t. Instead, he brings out the two girls he left at the altar, which seemed to surprise the Trust Fund, although if there are two things you should not be surprised about on The Bachelor, it’s helicopter rides and confronting the people you took a fat dump on. One of the girls had a huge shit-eating grin on her face, which her husband (or fiance) out there should worry about because it was the look of “I miss having sex with you”. You know what I am talking about.
Harrison switched gears and threw some killer Bachelor lines like “are you ready to take this journey” and “are you ready to find love” which the Trust Fund repeated with crazy awkward sighs and look-aways. In three weeks, we will hear each of those lines over ten times an episode.
The awkwardness continued when we met the girls. With each girl that came up, Trust Fund was like twitching and looking at imaginary animals on the ground. Or he is allergic to spray tan and awkward dress selection. The first episodes are hard because there are just so many people you see that you can immediately forget (a depressing commentary on our own daily lives). I always hate at the Rose Ceremony when they show that one girl that you didn’t even know was on the show until she gets cut like a fart at the dinner table.
Side note. What the fuck is Chris Harrison doing when he mysteriously vanishes back into the house? He’ll show up to be like, just to let you know there are fifteen desperate chicks in limos left for you to awkwardly meet and do weird head movements around… And then he retires to some hidden wing of the house to do what? I feel like he goes back there and physically punishes himself for his sins like the pale guy in DaVinci Code. I picture the producers coming in finding him bleeding on the floor and feeding him drugs to get him to go back out there. I am convinced he always wears a paisley tie so we cannot notice the blood on it.
So let’s just discuss some of the notable women on the show as week one is a total clusterfuck and frankly I need to cut away the fat before I can start psychologically dismantling the people vying for a trip to Tahiti to have sex with the Trust Fund. One quick observation. If they asked Trust Fund what he was into in a woman, he definitely said enormous fake boobs, right? There was more silicon on this episode than in the dog toy aisle at Petco. I’m not hating, just making an observation. This is the first season where the rose ceremony could be carried out by using cleavage as a vase. Probably would improve ratings as well.
First, Ashley who I am calling Coked Up Carrie Underwood. She’s a dentist apparently, but she never got the memo not to huff the nitrous oxide all day. Puff-puff-give is for joints. Nitrous you just give. To your patients. At her high school, she was too hardcore to win “most bubbly”. It was more like “most likely to chew the face off a living dog”. Years of trying to get her ponytail perfect with no lumps has lead her to having the hairline of a fifty year old man who spent his childhood on a boat.
There was The Undertaker, who’s parents definitely wanted to name her Shawn until she was born without a penis. Regardless, she ended up an undertaker and sealed her fate there, because honestly what are the odds Trust Fund is going to spend the rest of his life with a woman who comes home after a long day of pumped dead people full of chemicals. I kind of feel bad for all of us because when she gets cut we all have to know deep down she is going home to a fucking mortuary to spend time getting over Trust Fund in a refrigerator full of dead bodies. Next time you hate your job, think of the Undertaker.
Then there is Emily, who is not Holly Madison’s Stunt Double. She is such a sob story that I know she is getting kicked off. Frankly, meet your new Bachelorette.
Then there is Hayden Panettiscary – the woman who had fangs. Literally. She had filed her teeth into fangs and found her way onto a television show. This is my vote for “girl producers told Trust Fund he must pick for at least a four weeks”. Like Serial Kasey before her, she’s here to freak you out a little bit and encourage you to drink more during the broadcast. Trust Fund dug her teeth though and called them “sexy”. Vampire fascination not helping the whole “I like girls” thing, Trust Fund. Just hooking you up with some knowledge. Who was the last guy who said, “great football game, let’s all go rent Twilight”?
Then there was the Manscaper. She mentioned something called “bat’s ears” which I am pretty sure I know what she was describing and… Sorry, just threw up in my mouth a little.
My thesis that Trust Fund isn’t picking girls because he doesn’t like them was further enhanced when he gave his first impression rose to a girl who “most importantly” said she’d be his friend. I’m just saying.
They keep saying this is the most controversial season ever. Prove it. On the final rose ceremony, Trust Fund picks Jake the Fighter Pilot from last season. Boom. Television history.