I spent most of the week trying to figure out how NOT to write about this train wreck of an episode. I mean, this is the episode where Chris Harrison comes in and feels good about himself for torturing girls that have already ruined their lives. It’s like in Hunger Games where they make all the tributes interview on live-television before they have to go kill each other with tridents and like swords and homemade bombs.
First off, thank you to one of my Twitter followers for pointing me out to Chris Harrison’s blog post (there are many other drug users whose writing I prefer, namely Hunter S. Thompson). You know by now it’s my theory that Chris has to do extreme amounts of narcotics to be able to continue doing this show. We got some concrete proof today. HERE is the link so you know I am not making this shit up:
I usually don’t worry about watching the Women Tell All episode before I write this blog, but this year I had to because to be honest, there were some segments I don’t quite remember. My son was nice enough to give me his cold so I started the day worried about losing my voice, but by the end of the show I was desperately trying not to pass out. I’d like to apologize to the ladies, the audience and the crew, as I had to hold up production for about forty-five minutes while I “regrouped.” By “regrouped” I mean lying down backstage on a couch with ice on my head trying to remain conscious. What made this worse was the timing. I felt terrible all day, but it really hit me right when Courtney came out to join me. Honestly, I don’t remember much of what she said that first segment so I was glad to go back and watch that interview as well as the entire show. Turns out, I’m a pretty good interviewer in a semi-conscious state.
If you simply substitute “my son was nice enough to give me his cold” to “I spent all night eating E and dancing to dubstep” his entry reads pretty much like one of my recaps. He needed forty-five minutes to “regroup” from a cold? You recoup from a night in New Orleans. Let me be clear, chicken soup doesn’t cure what Harrison had. If it did, every first aid kit at every night club would have a can of Campbell’s in it.
I mean read this! “Turns out, I’m a pretty good interviewer in a semi-conscious state.” I can’t make that up. But in fairness, I’ve known since I first watched this job that this was the key to being the host of the Bachelor. Drugs, therapy and helicopters. That’s how you get through. Also, Chris. When you say it “really hit you” when Courtney came out, that means that you took too much buddy. Side note, I am available to kick it with you whenever. I’d like to see you in action. You are my hero, but I fear you like a magical dragon that eats people’s dreams. I am here to serve you, Sweet Lord of Roses.
So, this fucking episode was a hot mess and I don’t intend to give bullet by bullet accounts of everything. I will just jump around a bit.
First, can we talk about this audience? They found like the 30 women willing to stop watching Twilight and dreaming of a vampire to come make love to them in their sweatpants and then two guys who are definitely in the friend zone and then they sit there gasping like they have never seen this damn exercise before. Courtney comes out, they shake their head shocked like this isn’t the Bachelor. It made me think there’s a slew of people at home that are shocked each time they fly in a helicopter. Like they are at home and everything on the show causes a double rainbow reaction. By the way, Chris Harrison was there when they filmed double rainbow, why do you think that guy was so messed up. Double roses, all the way.
Let’s talk Contagion. Anyone else notice she sounded like Stephen fucking Hawking compared to everyone? Like, someone with average intelligence, maybe above average except for the fact she was on this show, seriously sounds like a genius. That said, she was pretty self confident and reasonable. All things considered though, if you are surgically enhanced, don’t wear a dress like that. You know? All things considered, I’d take you home to Mom, you can rap, you look cute in a helmet like War Horse. You’re smart except for that whole I was on the Bachelor thing. You came out like roses, just not on the actual show where you came out like you didn’t get a rose.
Speaking of peaches, Sally Field came off the best. She should have won I think. She handles herself super well no matter what and from what I know about marriage, the key is sort of being able to handle anything from a financial problem to a fart in public. It’s like American Gladiators of love and I feel like she could battle through.
Totally forgot how much I hoped Samantha would fall down a tall flight of stares. Between her and Scary Bradshaw, there was so much weird face going on. Watching her is like putting your hand through a potato ricer. It’s like an alien incubated the body of a sorority girl but hasn’t figured out how to work the face yet. Like Men in Black shit. She squeaks like a “chihuahua” and then makes faces like she smelled a nasty fart. That’s her in a nutshell.
When Courtney came out, the real fun began. Courtney’s agent had her auditioning big time for a role where she needs to cry. I’m sorry, I am a veteran of crying women, having served 3 tours when my wife had multiple female roommates and let me just say that wasn’t real crying. She could turn it off in two seconds. Here’s my rule of crying. I don’t believe you unless you cry ugly. I mean, with the exception of Sally Field, a woman turns into a newborn baby when she’s REALLY crying. You can’t just shut if off unless you are in a movie acting. Which is what Swimsuit Issues was doing.
Also, anyone notice how little makeup she wore on the show. I mean, she’s actually hot when she bothers to drop the ugly tank tops, powder the T zone and put some makeup on. This further confirms my belief models do not know how to put on their own clothes or makeup.
A highlight for me was when Candy Striping Hooker said that everyone called her a stripper but Courtney is the only one that got naked. Strip club wisdom. Then she took the fight to Courtney by asking why she called her a hooker on television. I felt bad for her until I remembered she actually is a stripper and TMZ caught her giving a lap dance like two weeks ago. So, yes Courtney sucks, but let’s admit the best way to not be called a stripper is to AVOID GIVING LAPDANCES ON CAMERA.
That was part of the speech I plan to give my future daughters before their first day of high school. The rest you can solve. TMZ is forever.
I’d say more about Courtney, but like, we get it by now. She’s a lying asshole. She’s awesome at the Bachelor. I think we’re all ready for the season to end and for her to be where she belongs: in the background of a commercial her family Tivos and makes their friends watch while drinking neon green margaritas in their Scottsdale home that they NAMED. Fuck it, I am naming my house too. Let’s call it El Rancho Guapo. Boom. El Rancho Guapo, home of Captain Handsome and his circus of trainer lazer bears.
Oh crap, did Chris Harrison drug my coffee? Let me ask the glowing sea otter sitting next to me. No? Okay, we’re good.
So then Ben comes out and Chris totally let him off the hook with just a few questions. I never understand this part. In my “worst” breakup, after a long relationship, I probably wanted to talk about what went wrong for a week or so and that was after years of servitude. After that, it’s standard protocol to cut and run. Sever ties and bail. You blame everything on the other person and then live well, start a blog and become popular until one day you are so stuffed with caviar and bourbon you don’t really remember anything and assume ALL past relationships ended really well. Duh, right? Like, right out of the owner’s manual.
Jennifer (bad red hair) chose the other route, again throwing Blakely (really?) under the bus and demanding to know how Ben could pick a stripper over a girl who let a fifth grade class color her head with red spray paint. Look Jenny (can I call you Jenny or does Cherry Bomb work), if you can’t get over getting kicked off a show about having sex with strangers in favor of a professional stripper, you are never going to be self-confident. Move on, dye it back and maybe move to NYC. Girls like to do that when things aren’t working out. Ever notice that? Tangent, I know, but I feel like that happens all the time. Like, dude broke up with me, the answer is New York, where guys are all nice and living is easy… Right.
Some of you are from New York or moved there for the right reasons, sorry to you guys, but admit it, you got at least one friend who you were like “why the fuck is she moving here, she’ll end up in Brooklyn eating week old pizza and mad DJ Dubstep isn’t returning her texts and then admitting she misses home and should focus on her career”.
Courtney did mention that she “loved” Ben, which blew Twitter up. ARE THEY NOT TOGETHER? DID SHE WIN? Then there was the US Weekly thing. Look, I haven’t spoken to Ben about this other than that his sister’s roommate who is watching his dog Scotch let me know the dog is a fan of the blog:
Look, when you are on this show, you are NOT allowed to talk about what happened. Remember Brad and Emily on After the Final Shitshow? You live apart, watch the show and then if you survive (which no one does) you can date. Ben and Courtney clearly are in the “we can’t talk about it phase” and are probably not even together. No idea why if either of them are dating other people this is considered cheating. For one, Ben kissed almost every contestant this year, but that isn’t cheating? No, it’s the Hunger Games bitch.
Two, all of America hoped Courtney got a parasite for the last two months and change. Can we just avoid the media rollercoaster and say that if Ben got out, we’re happy for him? Look, I haven’t read any official spoilers and I have held back asking Ben questions until we kick it at a ballgame this summer, but in the end, is it shocking a dude needed to get away from Courtney if that was the case?
The season is almost over. I am ready for the MOST CONTROVERSIAL FINALE SINCE THE LAST FINALE WHICH WAS ALSO THE MOST CONTROVERSIAL FINALE. Wonder if War Horse rides out on a horse just to get not-engaged. Stoked for some Neil Lane ring shopping. Some pensive balcony morning-of testimonials. Stoked for some “I can picture spending my life with this person I’m about to emotionally rape” dialogue.
Also, stoked for my mini sabbatical before tearing Emily Maynard to shreds. Tick tock, Bad Mom.