Harry Potter and shit. It all ends.
Never before has so much build up lead to an event more (read: less) captivating. On a shoestring budget because Strawberry Blond found a way to be a virgin and uninteresting at the same time, this “journey” to find love felt more like a tourist bus carting visiting Germans around destinations no one from the United States would visit. After a brief and luxurious pit stop in St. Croix, they were off to Thailand, the most inexpensive beach country they could find. It made me wonder if Sean had a peanut allergy and they were trying to kill him with some errant pad thai.
His final decision was like a scene from Saw. Marry the simple, Army Brat with the General dad and a horrid case of stress acne or marry a woman from Seattle with a shitty set of sisters and a dark past. As she’s described, two people have died or almost died in front of her. It’s like The Ring. That and the fact that she seems as serious about getting married as I am about hang gliding.
I can’t remember a finale I gave a shit about less, but in fairness, I block every episode out of my mind.
Sean’s family arrived on the island. His sister and brother in law made a conscious effort to buy a jumper, cut it in half and wear separate parts. In fairness, it was lime colored so maybe, being from Dallas, they thought it was “margarita time” on the golf course. I bet these two have had some shameful sex in that monster playhouse they keep in the back yard.
Seeing Sean’s parents, all I could think about was that it was these two combinations of hair and skin that created the most famous inverted ginger outside of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Sean’s dad was all about “being cool” and even the cynic in me liked this guy until they all talked about praying 200 times and I realized if they really were praying it would by for the electricity in Thailand to go out so their son wouldn’t have to marry on national television. Hunger Games, bitch.
The mom tweaked out a little and was like “yeah, Sean, these girls wouldn’t be keepers if you met them ice skating at the Galleria Mall so they aren’t keepers in Thailand.” Sean took her on a walk so we could see that his skin, deep V neck and shorts represented the colors of some invading alien species’ flag. He was like, “don’t worry Mom, this will be over soon.” His virginity, I hoped. Oh wait, he isn’t a virgin. Okay, his magical prayer virginity. ::smacks forehead::
Catherine did better than Army Brat, who laughed so much I could swear a ghost was tickling her the entire time. You never expect the ghost Muppets.
Pointless date one was with Army Brat and I swear I don’t even remember what they did other than some halfass making out so I’m skipping it because I am the overlord of this blog and you are all subjugated to my rule.
Date two was with Catherine and she got to ride an elephant. I especially liked their elephant riding pants. Look, I have a bone to pick with Chris Harrison, who was running veins first through the local poppy fields. He said on his blog that helicopters were “so five years ago.” He said the elephant was “the new helicopter.”
Fuck you, drug mule. Elephants will be the new helicopter when you ride inside them and they sprout a propeller and fucking fly. I know you are on an MDMA-inspired trip most of your life, but for the rest of us, it didn’t look like pink elephants in Dumbo. It looked like two d-bags riding an elephant.
If you had Facebook and used it, you’d know that for five years now assholes have been going to Thailand because it’s cheaper than Hawaii and they take the obligatory “I’m on a fucking elephant” shot. Every asshole I knew in college has ridden a Thai elephant and Instagram’d it. Seriously, explore the “Thailand” hashtag on there. Assholes on elephants. Elephants are so five years ago.
To be accurate, elephants are so prehistoric ago and helicopters in a traditional sense were so 1900s ago. Helicopters are better than elephants and may God have mercy on your soul.
To quote Moonrise Kingdom… Harrison, I love you, but you don’t know what you are talking about.
Later on the date Catherine did her space stare where she makes a serious face and looks into the eye of death. I blocked out all the crap they talked about, noticed the shitty body language from Sean and then suffered through that awkward saying goodnight part of the show.
Time out. For the eighth time, Chris Harrison brought us back to the live studio audience filled with megacreeps to let us know he has LATE BREAKING NEWS about Sean that was unprecedented. I perked up a little bit. I mean, I know when every season is referred to as “the most dramatic season of the the Bachelor ever” that it’s what we call in the ad business “marketing hype”, but LATE BREAKING NEWS? Get your popcorn ready.
Back in Thailand, Sean put on his most ill-fitting suit of the season. I mean he looked like some local theater clown playing the lead in Death of a Salesman. Too high brow? Fine, he looked like a guy at a frat invite who bought his suit at Goodwill without trying it on. How did they get this so wrong? All year they make it about tight suits with skinny ties. In the 4th quarter we just give up and go the opposite direction? Yes, I’ll take a male mumu suit. A sumu, if you will. He will.
You never expect the sumu.
Army Brat came in a silver dress and being that Catherine had a gold dress, I knew Lindsay was coming in second. I watch the olympics. Somewhere, Little Orphan Hottie saw she was wearing bronze, said “FUCK” really loud and proceeded to pull out chunks of her hair and maybe a fingernail or two.
Army Brat had some weird dress technology going where she was able to make her boobs vanish. Look, rule of thumb. Want to make a man regret dumping you, have your boobs in line. Where did they go?
She was a pro though at getting dumped, not sure if that’s good. She just took off her shoes, total mic drop moment and peaced out.
Then, Sean gets a note that all season we’re meant to think means he gets jilted at the altar because he starts crying hard. Nope. Typical Bachelor bullshit. It’s a fucking love letter from High School Soccer Player and Sean is crying because he is a boner and it only looks super severe because his skin changes like that chick from X-Men.
Thanks to a visit from Neil Lane and his surgically enhanced face, he puts a lot of generic looking ice on her finger, they seem happy and ride off into the sunset on another elephant which is still not the new helicopter fuck you very much.
On After The Final Rose, we suffer through watching the same show we just watched again and then watched Army Brat get her two cents in. Merp.
Finally, Sean and Catherine are on stage and we get to hear THE LATE BREAKING NEWS. It’s that ABC is going to pay for their wedding and air it. No shit. That’s what they always do the 2 times it’s ever worked out. We get it Sean, you are cheap and her parents don’t like you. Of course Harrison has to pay.
Thanks for the blue balls, again, Bachelor.
Time for me to get some much deserved rest from writing. I’ll post a bit about weird neon parties in Portland and maybe some other television I catch. I don’t know, I’m going to chill, head to Las Vegas for a few days and maybe enhance my empire.
I love you all dearly for sticking with me. Every time you share this blog with one of your good looking friends, an angel gets their wings (I am that angel). Every time you get a dude to start watching the show so he can read my posts, you are giving him an in with all girls and teaching him to hunt in the wild. Marriage is a lot of things, not the least of which is embracing some awful TV. A man who can laugh at crap with you is a man that likes spending time with you.
Have a happy and brief break until Desiree gets her new nickname (it’s not Sister of The Situation, but it could be). I’ll be drinking in the mean time. You do the same.
XOXO, Gossip Zack.
Real quick, shout out to Kim and my fellow W+Kers who watched last night!
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