Bachelor Recap: Week Seven

Real quick, check this out.  Despite not playing soccer since there were orange slices and juice boxes involved, I signed up to bring my broad-shouldered aggressive to my company’s coed soccer club.  I asked if someone could give me a few training sessions so I could go from a baseball player to a footballer and simply attached this picture:



I mean, who wouldn’t sign up?

So this week is normally a favorite.  Motherfuckin’ home towns.  It’s that special time of the year where you finally can confirm or deny that awful sinking suspicion that it is, in fact, your family that is preventing you from getting a ring put on it.  That’s a real thing, ladies (and gents).  While you technically are marrying one (1) human, you are also committing yourself to a life of dealing with another family’s set of shit that may make no sense compared to your own.

In many cases, this is a good thing.  For some, it is the opposite.  I’m not talking about parental no fly zones (and by fly I mean sex) in your in-laws houses stuff.  That’s normal.  I am talking about scenes from Deliverance type stuff.  I don’t even know anyone with these problems, but I do watch the Bachelor, so I know they exist.

A good family can put you over the hump.  A bad family can make you never want to hump again.

Let’s BachCap.

Hometown One was with Little Orphan Hottie, who is going to hell in a hand basket so fast.  I know it’s normal for her to constantly look for celestial or spiritual meaning in everything that is going down when you come from a world where you were passed around to five fucking orphanages in one year, but this is the Bachelor, not Oprah.  We’re not here to fix you.  We’re trying to figure out who will gladly be locked to a Wolf Range cooking for Sean as he plays golf, drinks light beer, gets sunburns and reminds you that a woman’s place is in the kitchen…  Or on his junk.

Luckily for Strawberry Lemonade, Little Orphan Hottie seems like she gets all of that AND wants to organize his closet.  That wasn’t sexual, she literally wants to organize his closet.  Unfortunately for Strawberry Lemonade, she may have been activated by aliens posing as God telling her that everything is happening for a reason.  Our fears of a Stage Five Clinger are being realized.

The date was short.  We met her adopted parents who were by all accounts really nice people, even if her mother had some weird dragonfly obsession that probably gets weird when it’s time to decorate the house for any holiday.  Her folks were overweight, her mom had Donald Trump hair, her father looked like Mr. Belding and Dick Butkus had a child that had a mid-life crisis and started spiking his hair…

BUT NONE OF THAT MATTERS.  Not her biological parents, who had to be nails hot and a little crazy.  All you need to know about her folks is that they are fucking nice and didn’t judge their daughter for having huge boobs installed.  They actually love her too.

They pass the test.  Unfortunately, AshLee didn’t.  Holy batshit crazy.  She starts fawning like a child about their dates and going so TMI on her folks that I felt bad for them.  And there was that feeling that she thought the universe aligned to give her this chance.  I always wonder how people could think THIS is how the cosmos intended you to find a man.  You are supposed to do it like the rest of us, which is to say, drunk in bars or scanning who looks reasonably employed and groomed on a dating website and just try on lots of hats.

Or you could have just been in a band like I was.  That works best.  Play instruments and be on the radio.  It makes it easier.

AshLee’s reactions could have spelled doom.  Luckily, this was barely on the Richter Scale of Shitquakes.

Cue Date Two, High School Soccer Player, or now that I know she is hardcore Pinoy power (love my Filipino homies in LA), I want to call her Jollibee.  It’s a Filipino fast food place I ate drunk one time.  At a drive-thru at USC once (in no condition) my bassist and I could not figure life the fuck out after ordering an “Extreme Sausage Sandwich”.  Can you imagine post Dodger game what it was like to order a “Juicy Yumburger” and “Crispy Chickenjoy?”  No you can’t.  But I can.  And that’s why you are reading this.



Glad I was not on hallucinogens.  So how did I feel about eating this stuff.  I don’t remember, but probably like this:



Big win for the agency.

Anyway.  Up to Seattle in the PAC NORTHBEST, PLAYER.  They clearly filmed in the summer because it doesn’t look like that normally.

ABC really pulled out the stops and took us to Pike Place Market to watch Sean catch flying fish (which they don’t even sell because throwing them fucks it all up, which is so not sustainable, which I personally don’t care about, but everyone up here fronts they do, so I call bullshit).


But really, ABC?  I’ve seen every fucking person ever catch fish at this market.  I mean, take them to the fucking Space Needle.  Go to the salmon ladder.  There are a thousand things less touristy than the Pike Place Market that one could do in Seattle that are still touristy as fuck.  I just can’t deal with it.


In other news, Sean…  Do not ever let Catherine touch your junk.  She caught a 10 pound flying salmon with one hand via death grip.  Hide your junk.  Cherish it.  According to People Magazine, you are a “born again Virgin” which doesn’t exist.  Still, keep it that way or there will be no little Lemonades running around any time soon.

That night, they went to Catherine’s house and saw it was filled with odd curtains and rugs partitioning every room.  Her sisters Tegan and Sara weren’t having it.  Her mom clearly watches the Bachelor and realizes the show is batting .125 in “marriage creation” and was like “bitch, if it works out it works out.”


Sean was like, aren’t you supposed to dote on me.  No, we aren’t because you barely left the country this season, got away from helicopters and wear a skinny tie when you shouldn’t.  I’m ready for you to find love so I can find my Monday nights again.  You’re supposed to enjoy drinking, not do it to get to Tuesday.

Date Three was with Army Brat and when your date on a military base in some fucking pop-up town called Fort Leonard Wood is your best date, the system failed you.  These two have fun together, it’s kind of sweet in a “I hope they don’t invite us to dinner” sort of way.  She is down to be a wife and in the meantime, she’s down to do whatever Sean wants and will move to Dallas because she is without a true hometown.


I liked that during her Army drill skit with Sean, she mentioned him “kissing other girls.”  It was refreshing to see someone knowing that was going on.  She has a quiet confidence and my wife’s been saying it.  She was such a dark horse.  She could and probably should win this, if she can survive her “undergrounders” as my wife describes them.  By them, I mean her stress acne that she’s working hard to battle.

Not picking on her, she seems like a fun person to hang with if she doesn’t talk like that all the time.  Which she probably does.  Redact that sentence like you’re the CIA.  Zero Dark Girly.

Her mom was nice.  Her brother looked like he was already in the Army and despite seeming a little creepy, I think would blindly love Sean, as evidenced by their man hug.  She may have had a sister, don’t remember.  Her dad brought him into a room with military battle paintings, had a beer that was darker than Sean typically drinks with a lime on the golf course (pansy) and somehow it went pretty well.  He seems like a good dad.  She seems like the right choice.

Date Four was with Des.  It started off with some awkward hike at Runyon or somewhere else people that suck go to hike and take instagrams.  I get that there are hot girls there, many adult film starts, but watching porn on your computer would save the gas, parking and traffic and yield a better workout.  My wife just closed the browser…


Des tried to punk-back Sean with some intern pretending to be an actor showing up and being like I LOVE YOU DES.  This was whacktastic and I was just glad it ended.

At dinner, the mom and dad seemed fine, but her brother was some mix between amateur MMA wannabe, Jersey Shore extra and the city of Santee, California.

He was hellbent on telling Sean he was a playboy.  None of this was interesting, moreso it was just mortifying because as much as this guy is probably the reason her parents wished they stopped at one, he was totally right.  His sister IS better off not getting married on a reality television show.

Luckily, he’s getting a spin-off on Bravo called Growing Up Dumb.

Sean was OUT after this.

Chris Harrison showed up and I missed him.  Catherine’s indie pop sister act and Des’ brother saved AshLee and her mission from the love god.  That said, Harrison had a rare suit/tie mixup.  Brown tie with that jacket?  Not sure.  Maybe he let a new GF dress him or something.  Didn’t matter, Sean had an awful skinny tie on, AGAIN, and basically made it okay for everyone else to dress like shit, except for Little Orphan Hottie who found a dress that could make a woman with 0% body fat and fake breasts look misshaped.  Congrats wardrobe team.

Des pulled a final plea during the Rose Ceremony which ended up causing Strawberry to have a born-again rose ceremony, leaving the room and interrupting Chris Harrison’s opium hookah party so he could look at the pictures of Des and Catherine one more time, because looking at them in person was too confusing.

Des gets cut.  I’m FUCKING OUT.

Not going to blog Sean tells all.  It’s erroneous.  Maybe I will.  No promises.  I keep it real.  SEE YOU FOR THE FAHN-TAH-SEE SUITES… Which will suck because Sean won’t have any sex.  Womp womp.  At least they may leave the country for once.





Filed under Rants and Musings

11 responses to “Bachelor Recap: Week Seven

  1. “Her father looked like Mr. Belding and Dick Butkus had a child that had a mid-life crisis and started spiking his hair…” OMG that is so hilariously accurate! You rock Lost Angeles blog. Please blog Sean Tells all 🙂

  2. iLoveBachCap

    PLEASE blog Sean tells all. Pretty please with a cherry on top.

  3. John

    “Growing up Dumb”, friggin classic.

  4. FightOn1990

    Bearfighter, I’m surprised you didn’t catch on to this, but it seemed to me Des’s brother was coked out of his mind or on some other illicit substance. Maybe, this was ABC and Chris Harrison’s act to play God in regards to Sean’s relationship. Chris must have blown down with her brother and told him to act a fool. I’m convinced.

    • heatherprim

      ooh further adding to this intrigue, in Chris Harrison’s blog he claimed that there had been a conversation earlier in the night betwixt Sean and Des’s brother that was never aired because in that convo the brother was being quite nice and supportive and so it didn’t make sense to show it. BUT if we perhaps throw in the storyline that the “nice” convo was had and then he later snorted a few lines in the bathroom and then came back all puffed up and called Sean a player, well, that makes total sense. And yes, I did read Chris Harrison’s blog. Don’t judge me people 🙂

  5. mrusc96

    Reblogged this on Life…Camera…ACTION!!! and commented:
    If you are a fan of The Bachelor, this is a must read.

  6. rebalicious

    How could you not mention the pink shorts! Maybe they just blended in with all that strawberry. I second the request for a blog on “Mr. S. Lemonade” tells all.

  7. Colleen

    You’re a genius

  8. Barbara

    “born-again rose ceremony” The best line ever! Please blog ‘Sean Tells All’!

  9. hey-o!

    Fuckin Santee, California. Right on, man.

  10. Aly

    “At dinner, the mom and dad seemed fine, but her brother was some mix between amateur MMA wannabe, Jersey Shore extra and the city of Santee, California.” DYING over the Santee reference! I went to high school with some of those kids (more of the El Cajon variety) but BROS, dude! So many stupid ass bros!

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