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Bachelor Recap: Week Six

There’s Christmas.  And there’s second Christmas.  Second Christmas is when the Bachelor moves to a tropical location and and our hero can finally just ride around in helicopters and sea planes and fucking snorkel and force girls to wear their “A Game” bikinis and drink some Mai Tais.

I enjoy this time of year ever more now that I live in Portland because it’s cold here, although it certainly hasn’t stopped me from drinking Mai Tais.  Or anything else for that matter.

So, Strawberry Lemonade broke the rules and decided to travel with his harem of women in a small plane instead of traveling solo because, well, he wanted to set a tone for the amount of perving he demands on this trip to St. Croix.  Sean is a natural rule breaker.  Like the laws of anatomy.  First man to glow red in the snow.  First light skinned person to refuse sunblock on tropical islands.  First outdoorsy guy to never go north of Dallas.

Sean also has another jam I need to point out.  The minute he starts tongue probing a girl when it’s time to kiss, he grabs their knee like he’s driving stick.  Whenever he starts up, I’m on my bearskin rug being like “LOOK, HE’S DRIVING STICK.”

So as we get started, may you all drive stick soon.  It’s almost Valentine’s Day.

I am so sure they went to St. Croix, still America, because Guybrow can’t leave the country do to a bunch of Drunk in Publics or a DUI or some cocktail of misdemeanors that has revoked her international traveling rights as an America.  She can definitely still go to the Jersey Shore.

But, hey, what better place to find love than St. Croix, which is related to La Croix, the canned sparkling water many of you are drinking right now.

This episode was prime for drama right off the bat as Little Orphan Hottie was in full surgical enhancement flaunt mode from the get go, which made stress-eating Guybrow super insecure causing her to pull her roll-out bed to another room in a protest everyone was glad for.  Reminds me of the time Candy Striping Hooker (Blakely) retreated to cry hysterically in the luggage room.  Then she got engaged to that tiny guy, then that blew up, now she just takes slutty instagrams with former cast members who probably sleep with her.  Sigh.  I wanted to believe she was looking for a better life, but people who use instagram to post pictures of inspirational quotes are barely hanging on in my opinion.

But hey, who doesn’t love the 9th instance of “Skinny Girls Look Good In Clothes, Fit Girls Look Good Naked” before you wake up.  Lady, you are just being a tart and telling us you look good naked.  Next time, take a naked photo and annotate it “scoreboard.”  It will make your point and gain you followers.

Wait, we were BachCapping, weren’t we?

AshLee got the first date and we started seeing some of her major malfunctions this episode.  She is the perfect Dallas wife.  She’s hot.  Her body won’t change (thanks science!)  All that said, you started seeing her discuss her cosmic plight and I am starting to wonder what complex chain of gluten and amino acids are keeping her brain chemistry together.  She’s had a rough life and has seemed well adjusted so far.  Might be a time bomb.

Their date was the “let’s get on a yacht, you get half naked and we just jump fifteen feet into the ocean and make out.”  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it ABC.

No one successfully sabotages another contestant on this show, eventually it bites you on the ass (if the Bachelor doesn’t do that first in the Fantasy Suite).  This week, we saw that trend change.  Strawberry Lemonade point blanked Little Orphan Hottie into dishing out the fact that whatever dented Guybrow’s head made her evil in the process.

AshLee delivered the news while pushing her boobs together and aiming them at Sean, which is the best way to receive any information.  When you get bad medical news, they put you in a “calming” room and speak in comforting tones.  Fuck that, send me to St. Croix and have a hot girl tell me on a sandy beach while trying to seduce me.  Until this happens, Kaiser Permanente can’t use the tag line “Thrive.”

Sean seemed to accept this, although he did mention that if Tierra won she wouldn’t have to be with other women for long.  Except the 3 billion women on Earth they might encounter.  Tierra is fascinating.  I almost think she’s more likely to BE with another woman than eat lunch with another women.  Drunk experimentation.  That’s what I am talking about.

The night date was when AshLee did a forty minute build up to her terrible secret which ended up being that she had a short-lived high school marriage in an act of rebellion.  Sean looked relieved she didn’t reveal “I have a kid” or “it’s gonorrea.”  I expected Sean to slip and say “that’s nothing, one time my boys and I potentially killed a stripper in Nogales, we just ran away, you know, people have history.”

Then they screamed “I love you” and “I love St. Croix” which somehow was so painful it went back in time and ruined the scene in Garden State where they scream into the abyss.  That’s how awkward it was.  Also, did Zach Braff die?  What happened?  He makes that fucking movie and now nothing?  Was it all just to get some Natalie Portman?  Did he fail and lose to a ballerina?  Did you know my PDX stripper name is Natalie Portland?

I’m off track again.

Guybrow got her date, but was so pissed they were going shopping and not going crotch fishing on a private beach.  They ran around, she acted annoying, they bought awful necklaces and then Sean basically told her that the fact that women hate her has made him hate her a little bit.  It’s made us all hate her a lot.

Then ABC staged a mini parade (felt like is was racist in some way, just not sure how) and then the date ended or I got up to piss.  Same difference.

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The next date was a group date where everyone traversed the island to see sunrise on the eastside and sunset on the westside.  They did a travel by Indiana Jones map to help gloss over this date, like I am going to do.  It was three nice, attractive girls watching the sun turn Strawberry Lemonade purple.  There was a time when this show would try to explain why a site was historical, saying that “the British once attacked a Spanish Galleon here.”  Now, Sean just says “ERHMAGERD, THE PLACE HAZ HERSTERY.”  And onto the next “let’s swing on vines” experience.

Then, there was no fucking sunset.  Fuck this date and fuck St. Croix.

Final date, Pretty Little Liar gets her moment in the sun, only they go to like a forest with very little context and because she is totally getting cut, Sean foreshadows they aren’t where they need to be.  On a golf course with her making him margaritas.  Put some beer in, that’s the trick.  Trust me.

Pretty Little Liar just kept explaining things too much.  She might be normal in civilian life, but on this show, stop analyzing things, tell him you love him, let ABC shoot some fireworks off and then make out.  That’s how you win.

Then ABC went collision montage, right up there with the end of Godfather.  Sean was hanging with his wife whose advice was literally “don’t end up with Swimsuit Issues (Courtney)” when he decided he’d introduce her to Guybrow, who he now knows is probably the mean girl.  Derp.

I pictured ABC producers walkie-talking the shit out of this like “GET HIS ASS TO THE HOUSE WE JUST GOT THEM ALL DRUNK AT NOON AND IT TURNED INTO VERBAL UFC 167.”

Sean ominously approaches the hen house while Tierra and AshLee go at it.  AshLee hates Tierra for being false and the kind of person who doesn’t say “good morning.”  Seriously, who does that!  *crickets*

Tierra just looks sloppy, fake cries and storms out.  ONLY TO RETURN ON FIRE.

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They start arguing that she’s never had trouble with men, that she thinks she’s better than everyone and that her parents told her not to lose her “sparkle.”  I need to know what the sparkle is.  Is it her desire to stress eat?  Is it her way of slouching on the couch?  Is it the magic that came from the asteroid that hit her in the forehead?  Whatever it is, YOU CAN’T TAKE IT FROM HER.

Then, my vindication.  I called her Guybrow from the moment she showed up.  The world saw and embraced the race it made up her face.  And when AshLee called the eyebrow out for raising in bitchiness, we got it.

“I CAN’T CONTROL MY EYEBROW!”

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Thesis.  The defense rests.  It has a mind of it’s own, which is shocking since Tierra doesn’t.

Sean enters and sees her fake crying for the 4000th time.  He pulls an epic “I love you so much I need you to die” move and suddenly she is fake crying her ass to the worst death a contestant can get:  Deportation by Minivan.

A cold death to a hot temper.

Sean, with the taste of blood in his mouth decides to skip the cocktail party and go right to sending Pretty Little Liar back to the Potomac.  High School Soccer Player has a complicated response.  She freaks out in saying that if Sean doesn’t like Pretty Little Liar, how could he like her?  I feel like they must have been super similar, although she’s like a character in a Tim Burton movie after hearing the second story in like two weeks about people dying or trying to die in front of her.  Still, hate that she had to experience that, but that’s hardcore.  I don’t think she’s winning, so I hope Sean handles it well.  I may be a prick on here, but I am a big believer in mercy to those who deserve it.

Speaking of which, I’m done, mercifully, until next week.  With Tierra gone, maybe they can leave the country.

 

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Bachelorette Recap: Week Five

Had the Bachelorette existed in the 1700s (apparently just after Filibuster believes Shakespeare was writing, sweet Jesus), our forefathers would have had it so much easier.  There is no way after seeing the travelling shitshow we call “entertainment” that they’d have fought so long and hard to retain the colonies.  I mean, truly, after watching this group tour London I am positive, the Redcoats wouldn’t have been coming, they’d be leaving.

The hardest part for me about this episode, besides everything that happened during it, was listening to Lady Veneers pretend to give a shit about London and recite the same 3 lines about William and Kate getting married.  Look.  London is one of my favorite cities.  They managed to shoot there on the 5 days a year it is not grey and foreboding.  That was misleading because while London’s foggy gloom usually foreshadows a wicked hangover for wild bucks like me, in this case it would serve a fair warning to Lady Veneers:  THIS IS NOT GOING TO END WELL FOR YOU.

We had to be spoon fed our obligatory watch Chompers and Child play on a hotel bed scene.  It was great.  We learned Ricki, despite being what, like six, still thinks dragons live in Buckingham Palace.  I don’t want to be hard on this girl, but isn’t six like a first grader?  Or almost one?  By first grade I understood the rules of baseball and am pretty sure I had no expectation that a fucking dragon was flying out of the Getty Villa.  This is what you get when your rich child has a 1700 sq. ft. bedroom and you let her watch Game of Thrones.  She probably thinks her mother is Khaleesi.

Anyway, the dates got rolling with some steamy ABC After School Special sightseeing with Strawberry Lemonade who was so excited to be in London they made him pack three pairs of “knickers” in case he got too excited.  Which he did on the double decker bus.

What immediately was offputting was the fact that Lady Veneers was clearly sick and had a frog in her throat.  This was mildly disturbing given the fact ABC went out of their way to show that it was possibly Lady Veneers was, in fact, having a torrid affair with Kermit the Frog.  A “frog in her throat”?  Chris Harrison, you pervert!  Emily is from North Carolina now and if there’s anything we learned in their last election, it is that marriage is between a man and a woman there.  Man and a frog?  Do you realize what kind of scrutiny you have put Chompers in?  How will Ricki Bobbi go to school and learn that dragons don’t live in Buckingham Palace (also the name of a Raleigh-Durham strip club) if she is constantly ridiculed for having an amphibisexual mother?  Why ruin the life of someone with such perfectly fake horse teeth?  They take marriage WAY SERIOUS in North Carolina.

I am kidding.  I support all marriages, even the 50% of them that fail.  Or 99% of them if they were formed on this television show.

Anyway, I wish I had more to say about Strawberry Blonde’s date, but he is so boring I want to find the dragon in Buckingham Palace and wear armor made of bacon in hopes I was set ablaze, eaten and sparred the obligatory “can I kiss you” move that everyone does with Chompers.  Is this because she is so hot that guys are freaked out just to let it rip?  Is this because she is from West Virginia and they based the film Deliverance on there and they are afraid she will lure them back woods and Ned Beatty them?  Is it just because with teeth so powerful you want to make sure she’s not chewing gum and creating the potential to have your face chewed off in light of the zombie apocalypse bath salt talk that’s been going around the east coast?

Nope.  It’s just because these guys are weak sauce and there has been one fucking helicopter so far and it is week five.  All of you apologize to Ben Flajnik right now who took helicopters JUST TO GET TO the helicopter he was going to use to go somewhere extreme.

When they made him say London is calling and then played a rip off too-cheap-to-buy-a-license version of the Clash’s “London Calling” a little part of me died and my wife and I spent forty minutes burying it in the yard.  Our neighbors love us.

They rode a double decker bus [fart noise].  They took a picture in front of a soldier [wet fart noise].  Then they had Strawberry Blonde give a speech about love where he sounded like Atticus Finch’s mentally challenged inbred donkey child.  Like, he was speaking like a lawyer-reverend-3rd grade speech class student.  And what the fuck was he even saying?

So you know what my wife deals with, I would have gotten up there and just read the beginning of “Trainspotting” (even though they weren’t British) while randomly nodding my head and flicking people off.  At the end I would have thrown someone’s digital camera over the fence behind me and than ran the opposite direction singing Girl From Ipanema.  Yes I’ll accept that rose, obviously.  You never expect the Muppets.

They kept trying to say London is romantic.  It isn’t.  It’s an amazing city, but it’s a city where they will give you Yorkshire pudding with beef jus in it while you are drinking heavy ale in a pub you can smoke in.  If you go out all day in London and blow your nose, it’s got soot in it.  Cops fight drunks in London over their pint which they have just walked into traffic carrying.  London plays for keeps.  It doesn’t play for romance.

Proof?  You went on a date to the Tower of London.  All that tour is about are dudes called Beefeaters (hilarious) telling you that you need to tip your executioner a lot so he cuts your head off in one fell swoop as many prisoners suffered a grisly death of like ten blows before the head came off.  If you have been to London on this tour, you know that it is just all about gross out stories.

So yeah, let’s go inside, eat food shipped in from an organic restaurant in La Jolla and talk about how many kids we want.  And what better place to talk about how many kids you want than the Tower of London in romantic…London.

And how about that?  Emily.  These dudes will make babies with you.  If you don’t quit asking, the porn music will start and you will have to put your money where your mouth is and conceive these kids.  Hell, you want so many kids, just have one with each of the top five and then marry the one who has the best DNA (or at least the one you think can get Ricki off thinking dragons exist).

He gets a rose, I went and got a scotch.

Group date was more England racism.  Let’s go perform a bunch of Shakespeare again.  The Talented Mr. Lipstick was legit creepy the whole time.  He took it really seriously, when the correct answer was this:

Which of my readers would not fall in love me with if in England in front of a bunch of hard core thespians who take shit way too seriously I just did a scene from Billy Madison and played BOTH Adam Sandler and that other guy?  Wait, you are all in love with me already?  Yes, I accept that rose and no it’s not hard to be so humble.

Filibuster grew back the Seneca Wallace and perved out hard when he got to kiss Chompers.  Speed Racer kept getting a red face and every girl everywhere was all like “awwwww”.  Seriously, from my California home it sounded like there was a cat genocide.  Get over yourselves.  Egg Guy was fine, but like I still just don’t have a name for him and whatever [fart noise].

The only other note was Kalon telling Chompers to “run along” so he could practice and America was outraged at the fact this douchebag was still a douchebag. DUN DUN DAH!

Also, Emily responded by saying “this isn’t Broadway” and I am thinking, Jesus ABC, you got her to memorize all this other shit about London but you couldn’t get her to say West End instead of Broadway?  England like invented the play.  THEY WERE IN ENGLAND DOING A PLAY FOR A DATE BECAUSE ENGLAND IS SO FUCKING THEATERY.  Just because Veneers is boring and her daughter still believes in dragons doesn’t mean you get to phone it in and not give us helicopters or fact checking.  I mean, shit.  In Belize they were like explaining the top exports and gross national product over a ten year span.  GET IT RIGHT.

Then, in more English racism and because Harrison had to go pick up some Diana Ross (they call cocaine that there sometimes, especially if you look dumb and American, are on Spring Break lost in the West End after your mother bought you tickets to see Lion King and you drank a lot of tequila in a weird bomb shelter bar right before curtains up), they went to a pub for a pint.  Derp.

That’s when the fireworks started because Talented Mr. Lipstick called Ricki baggage, and in fairness, who wants to tell a kid dragons are only on Game of Thrones.  Dad decided to throw him under the bus and then Filibuster stood up and was all “that was not a cool thing to say” and the pile on began.  Lipstick was defenseless.

Lady Veneers said she was gonna go West Virginia, hoodrat, backwoods on him, only then she let Doug do the hard work.  I don’t think she knows what West Virginia, hoodrat, backwoods is, because again, it’s Deliverance.  It’s a deformed kid playing a banjo.  It’s “squeal piggy” (please don’t see the movie if you can’t handle rape, Burt Reynolds or both).  It’s not kicking a man in a women’s sweater out of a pub to leave England in a minivan.

Filibuster bought Emily a present and what was hilarious was she totally started coming around to him, proving my point that to be on this show you need to be the kind of girl that can be bought off by jewelry and 11th grade football player game.  “I’m gonna ignore your beard shape and the fact you are a walking erection and just accept this gift because it would go great with this racerback I just bought”.  Seems like only yesterday he was writing her 7th grade poetry and calling her a future fat chick.  I love Filibuster so much.

The worst part of this date was that Emily, who apparently wants a man’s  man, expected all these guys to puke and tell her what Kalon had said.  A man’s man doesn’t puke.  He gets a guy like One Direction to puke and then says “I was gonna tell you but he beat me to it”.  Emily is creating a house full of super whiner assholes out of a house of whiner assholes.

Next date was One Direction who was wearing a suit right off the Bonobos catalogue.  How did he pack for this trip?  He had casual high sock Bermuda wear for last week.  Now, he is ready to go riding in case the show’s British racism lead to a spontaneous polo match.

They went to an etiquette class that was just a failed experiment.  Jef was fine.  Emily was sick and bored and just for good measure, they faked it like they ran out.  The lady came back in doing her best Hogwarts professor “WHERE ON EARTH DID THEY GO”.  Speaking of which, anyone else feel like HBO has been playing Deathly Hallows Part Two on repeat for a month now?  It’s the new “Call Me Maybe” which was the new “Levels”.

They left to… GO TO A PUB.  Again.

Jef ordered two pints and a fish and chips.  Racist.  (I know this is not racism, but nationalisticisimsmsm, but let’s be honest, I don’t remember what I just wrote.  You never expect the Muppets and on a scale of one to ten…  Dragons).  Look, fish and chips is fine.  I get it.  But two “pints”.  This is like ordering two “glasses” at a bar in the use.  A pint of what One Direction?  Tartar sauce?  Urine?  Oh, beer?  Got it.  Pick one.  We have 200 on tap because it’s England.

Then, super fun, One Direction says something about a Chloe handbag.  I do not claim to be an alpha male (alpha males don’t need to claim anything, we built this city on rock and roll).  I mean, look, I lived in Beverly Hills and am aware of ladies’ brands and the basics of couture.  My Chuck Taylors are made by John Varvatos.  I mean, I am kind of a dick.  The thing is, I didn’t know what a Chloe bag was.  Now I do and I know one thing:  Jef shouldn’t know about it.  He also said like “a Chloe handbag you’d want to keep forever”.  I always thought Jef was just a mellow slow roller, but maybe he’s just super into fashion or maybe, like Emily, he is into Kermit the Frog too.  Like, he’s not a Miss Piggy kind of guy, but I bet he knows what purse she wants.

Yeesh.  Emily was won over by Filibuster’s dumb necklace, so Jef might be the new Ames.  One Direction seems wrong.  Both Directions, probably.  Good for him.  That’s so not Salt Lake City and I dig it.

They then went in the London Eye, talked a bunch about nothing and it was boring.  Jef did however say he would have non-stop all night dance parties with Ricki in Salt Lake City which sounds terrible, just like Salt Lake City.  [fart noise].

Then, like everyone else, he asked to kiss her, but at least wasn’t gross about it like Speed Racer, who leads with more tongue than an ear, nose and throat doctor.

Cocktail party, Chompers just interrogates everyone as to why on earth they wouldn’t sell out a guy who would never ever win.  Filibuster continues his headfuck by just doing the thespian thing AGAIN, but it works and now Emily can be bought by jewelry or the even more timeless male tactic of “be a dick, then be nice, rinse and fucking repeat”.  Thanks Agoura High School for teaching me everything I needed to know to cover bad reality television.

In the end, having only to do with the fact he was the last non white dude on the show, Alelelelejando was booted.  Forget the fact this guy was gonna be a banker.  Forget the fact that the “mushroom farmer” as ABC calls it actually invented a way to grow gourmet mushrooms out of recycled coffee grounds which he has sold to Chez Panisse and Whole Foods and got a grant from Berkeley.  Emily likes white dudes with Seneca Crane beards that bribe her and treat her like shit.  And will lie to Ricki about the existence of dragons.

Off to Croatia.

Couple things…

FIRST.  A BIG ASS HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO KAARIN O. AND HER LOST ANGELES FANS WRITING FROM SEATTLE.  Seriously, I hope this birthday feels better than a helicopter ride in the Alps.

SECOND.  At the urging of many of my readers and now a few of my friends, I am going to do some advice posts.  Send me an email at lostangelesblog [at] gmail [dot] com and ask me your question.  I’ll hide your real name, all that jazz, but I will also solve your problems.  Want to Filibuster?  I can help.  Want to STOP A FILIBUSTER?  That too.  Send me some emails and I will post more content and probably save your world.  All I ask is that you name your kid Zack (boy or girl, don’t care) and buy them a hot ride when they turn 16 so they get some hot dates.

LASTLY-  FOLLOW ME.  My tweets are legend.  Instagram is now heating up.  Facebook fan page gets extra content.  Keep an eye out for me on ConnecTV, I’ll be doing some live chat on Tuesdays.  Google them to learn more.

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