Bachelor Recap: Week Two

I Tivo’d the BCS title game and opted for the Bachelor instead, mainly because Chris Harrison is clearly a more valid determiner of a champion than the BCS system.  I heard the game happened and Cam Newton won.  Here’s to an offseason of litigation.  Blah.


Jumping right in, my initial observation was the producer’s choice to give Brad a prop in the weekly intro clip, usually where our hero stands somewhere at magic hour and talks about being nervous about going on a journey to find love.  This week, despite having no one to play catch with, frankly despite having no one around him for miles, he was given a football prop.  I don’t know what he planned to do with this football.  My guess is the producers read this blog and figured a little football prop would really sell home Trust Fund’s into-women-ness.  Then they proceeded to dress him in pink almost the entire rest of the episode, which was mostly like a game of dodgeball, only he was dodging big fake boobs.  I guess that part was awesome.

Date one was with Coked Up Carrie Underwood.  She showed up at the bottom of the stairs looking like Tin Man from an off Broadway revival of Wizard of Oz.  I think most of the outfits on the Bachelor are based on a dare, or in the very least, an inside joke between two single, 40 something stylists who share an old, overpriced duplex just south of Melrose.  You know I know what I am talking about.

They went to a creepy field where there suddenly was a carnival there.  It was really weird because the entire time they were like jogging and running and sprinting.  I also never realized how weird a carnival devoid of people was.  Like, is there anything more depressing than playing the throw the ball at a bottle game in solitude?  Oh yeah, the stories of drug abuse and abandonment they shared directly after.  I will say this, Coked Up Carrie Underwood was no where NEAR as crazy as she was in other episodes.  My guess, we’re being set up to get hacked up by a machete and craziness.

Then there was the group date.  If Michelle (who I am now calling Future Sex Tape because after she loses this show I am positive that is her next resurrection) mentioned her 30th birthday one more time I was going to kidnap the nearest dog and force it to be a canine actor in ASPCA commercials.  Side note, what the fuck is up with those things.  They are like depression porn.

Michelle has a tan, surgical enhancements and gigantic earrings that seems to grow with every take.  She also definitely negates any possibility the Trust Fund can use white pillowcases because with that amount of paint and spray tan, she is definitely leaving a brown fox on the pillows.  She is the quintessential hot mess.  This girl tricks you at night and then you see her at Urth Caffe the next day in Ugs and a clothes stolen off a hobo that eats from the Fred Segal dumpster (on Melrose, not in Santa Monica).  Her hair might have a nest of robins in it.  Her pool dance with the rose literally made the concept of women in bathing suits gross to me, which is a huge loss psychologically.  That dance was the missing scene from Black Swan.  Side note, I’ve always felt Natalie Portman would reluctantly be into me, but then the minute she got comfortable she’d start getting weird and clingy and you’d have to explain to everyone why you dumped Natalie Portman, which most guys wouldn’t understand.  I operate on a very strange level.  Ask my wife.

Then there was the whole feud between Skeletor and Manscaper.  In my mind, Skeletor was only kept on the show just to show some crazy.  Even Brad who is so freaked that people won’t think he’s “changed” that he puts up with even the dumbest of quips (saying his catch line, “sit down, please” on repeat) looked visible annoyed while this crazy anorexic person was crying and lamenting that she ate onion pizza.  Four slices of it.  Right.  I literally felt so uncomfortably I drank from the toilet bowl and slept on the floor.

Let’s not forget the return of The Muppet and Ro-Bear-Toe, who showed up to help Trust Fund figure out what girl was there for the right reasons, which ended up being the really hard to guess hottest-girl-with-tragic-back-story.  Dur.  Then again, after spending last year with the Muppet, I know how dumb she is and I kept looking for a sign in Ro-Bear-Toe’s eyes that he was on the edge of hurting himself or someone else.  He definitely has turned to alcoholism.

That said, I was glad to see Muppet.  It was cool she was not dressed in neon highlighter clothes and her extensions seemed to be absent.  I wish her the best until they get divorced.

No surprises in the cuts this week.  Skeletor, Manscaper and Rockette are gone.  Who cares.  I just can’t wait for Chantel to get it on with Future Sex Tape.




Filed under Rants and Musings

3 responses to “Bachelor Recap: Week Two

  1. I think you’re giving a little to much credit to the host/show/fiance for the pronunciation of Ro-Bear-Toe’s name–it makes it sound way too much like an accurate Spanish pronunciation. It’s really more along the lines of Row-Bur-Toe.

    Also, I’m really glad you picked up on the fact that Michelle had a birthday. Because it was her birthday. Her 30th birthday.

    In regards to Skeletor, do you think that for casting they put out an open call: “Seeking Anne Heche look-alike. Must be just as crazy, but skinnier and all-around less attractive.”?

    Methinks that may have been the case.

  2. Annelise

    While I usually have no remorse for the girls on the Bachelor, and just laugh at them when they don’t get a rose, I actually felt really bad for the Rockette at the end of the episode. It’s kind of sad when someone thinks they’ll probably be alone for the rest of their life.

    I know there was no arrogance in that response. Sex Tape drained it all from me.

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