Bachelor Week 4 Preview

This week has been nothing short of historic. You’re probably thinking I speak in reference to “the shot heard round the world” in the World Indoor Bowls Championships on Wednesday; or the Guinness World Record for most individual milkshakes on a single menu being broken; but no. I am speaking about the first time in living memory that The Bachelor, whilst on air, has not offered up the juiciest slice of relationship gossip for the week. While the claim has been debunked more times than Obama’s phantom Kenyan birth certificate, I want it to be true so badly that I’m running with it anyways in the hope that I can blog it into existence. Yes, I am of course talking about the Nicholas Cage and Ke$ha dating rumors. C’mon, can you imagine seeing the conjunction of two more titanic entertainment figures? It would relegate the Jay-Z-Beyoncé wedding to the trash-heap of history; make Harry and Megan’s nuptials seem rather small-town in comparison! Ke$ha would finally get her rich, white, straight man and Nicholas would cement his magpie-status, going after only the shiniest, most glitter-covered treasures our collective humanity has to offer. Their kids would wake up every morning feeling like P Diddy due to the enormous amount of pilfered Aztec gold that they had draped around their necks, and I’m salivating at the prospect of a National Treasure 3 soundtrack penned exclusively by Ke$ha! Oh well; a boy can dream; onward and upwards; back to The Bachelor I guess? Poor guy.

Some thoughts with an eye on Monday…

This is something that I referenced in my Week 3 recap, but it is really incredible Sydney self-identified as a rat, and then proceeded to call Alayah an elephant on prime-time national television. Calling someone an elephant is usually in reference to one of three fictional-character-derived tropes: Dumbo if the recipient of your barb has big ears, Babar if they harbor a proclivity for incestuous behavior (people forget he married his cousin), or Mr. Snuffleupagus if they are the imaginary friend of a big, fictional bird (this one is rare.) Alayah I think deserves a different elephantine characterization however. She’s more of a Horton, because WHO THE FUCK CARES what Sydney thinks about her? Sydney is correct in her zoological self-assessment; she calls out her fellow competitors with an air of moral superiority as if she legitimately cares about Peter’s feelings; she crits around talking shit about Alayah calling her “fake” and “rehearsed” before snatching the group rose and scurrying back into the sewers. All of this rat talk is rather fitting given our current year in the Chinese Zodiac Calendar; all I can hope is that Alayah comes back, and unlike her nearly namesake, can avoid a Peter plane crash (RIP) and show him she’s One in a Million!

Peter was the host of categorically the worst pool party in human history. Instead of drinking pineapple drinks, rubbing tanning oil into the backs of his cooing concubines, and bombing around doing cannon balls aiming for maximal splash radius, Pete was obviously in more of a litigious mood. The Alayah, Sydney situation deserved its time in the sun (or the shade given the truly rancid looking atmospheric conditions at the party) but it became the center piece of the entire afternoon and marked another occasion where Peter’s feelings of confusion, disappointment and general psychological malaise got in the way of more primal exploits. I get that it is difficult to assess genuine intentions on a show that is primarily a trebuchet to Instagram stardom, but Peter’s quest for the truth was about as effective as Natty Light Seltzer’s full court marketing press in rural Afghanistan! His arraignments of the various girls and subsequent cross-examinations lacked precision, were not sufficiently probing and his ultimate indecision about who to send home made him look more like Atticus Flinch rather than a truth-seeking truffle pig with his love life on the line! Maybe he needs to spend some more time with Kelley the Prosecutie?

Getting Sydney to call out Alayah in front of all her peers was really quite something… I haven’t had that kind of rush since I completed the 30-minute Cody Rigsby Lady Gaga Peloton ride for the first time… in a word, WOW! Just as Prometheus bestowed upon humankind fire from Olympus, so too has the Sydney-Alayah drama bestowed fire upon this season of the Bachelor – The only big difference is that these ladies’ livers aren’t pecked out by an eagle each day for their fire-transmission (although they appear to be putting forward their best liver-self-destruction efforts by shoveling gallons of liquor down their gullets each episode!) I wonder if Sydney will be afforded the same kind of whistleblower protections as her counterparts in Federal agencies… Gotta figure she could put together a pretty solid workplace retaliation case if she gets canned next week?

Three things to look out for:

  • Why is Alayah back? This could be one of those preview gimmicks a la Hannah B earlier this season where she comes back for a hot second and then leaves again, but given Peter’s legendary indecision who the hell knows? Chris Harrison did take away one rose inexplicably before Alayah got the chop, so can’t help but think that this could be significant!
  • Are they ever going to leave Southern California? They desperately need to get out of the United States… Nothing quite gets the people going like watching the disgusted contestants have to eat scorpions in Thailand, or survive machete-wielding Amazonians in Brazil. Get them on a plane and let’s take this shitshow international!
  • Which character will Peter adopt next episode? This season has been a walking talking PSA for dissociative identity disorder! Peter has played a pilot, has been seen salsa-dancing around his kitchen with his Hispanic family, and last episode sought to trumpet his country credentials with a trip to a boot barn and then a good old fashioned country hoedown. Whether this simulation had people across rural America gleefully cracking open another can of Budweiser, lighting up a couple of cowboy killers and kissing their “Hillary for Prison” tattoos is tough to tell, all we know is that Peter is a wearer of many hats and who knows where his next foray into character fantasy will take him!

Happy watching people 🙂

Bachelor Week 3 Recap

By all accounts it’s been a pretty wild few days in the news. Notorious ISIS leader “Jabba the Jihadi” (“he puts the fat in fatwa”) was captured in Iraq; President Trump’s senate trial is set to kick off today; and it was found that marijuana sales in Oregon along the Idaho border are 420% higher than the statewide average (can’t make this stuff up!) Despite these blockbuster stories clogging up the news cycle, there was no event that even came close to rivalling the complexity, the intrigue and the suspense of the latest instalment of The Bachelor on Monday night…

Let’s jump in:

Champagne-gate shows absolutely no signs of letting up and while it’s insane to think that such a trivial misunderstanding could be stretched out over several weeks, I don’t hear anyone complaining. Perhaps the best line from this whole charade came from a moist-eyed Hannah Ann who indignantly exclaimed “you’re telling everyone that I’m a liar; that I’m a champagne stealer.” Maybe my limited years on this earth have not yet exposed me to the wild and nefarious world of champagne stealing, however in the grand scheme of criminal-activities-turned-descriptors, I’m not sure if anyone has ever used these words with such certainty. Yes, you have murderers and burglars, assaulters and cheaters, the list goes on, but champagne stealers? I didn’t know Hannah Ann’s bag of tricks included the coining of neologisms, however I’m sure this etymological streak is why Peter seems to be so besotted with her and not her Aphroditean beauty. Battle rappers everywhere take note, the latest opponent-reeler, to-the-ground-kneeler, seal-the-dealer is undoubtedly “champagne-stealer.”

One of the most sausage-is-made moments in my limited Bachelor exposure was the sneak peek into the girls’ living quarters. It is now abundantly clear why all of the girls end up hating each other – sardines have more space to breathe in their briny digs than the Bachelor girls do! Don’t get me wrong, I love a good bunk bed, but they definitely lose a measure of their luster as one advances in years… Forcing the girls, all of whom are vying for the same future hubby, to live on top of one another literally and figuratively is a recipe for disaster and this episode had a number of those 1-on-1 conversations between aggrieved actors that make The Bachelor necessary viewing. Sydney and Alayah are the latest two to get into it over Alayah’s purported genuineness. “Do you work?” and “an elephant sitting on a rat, how am I supposed to get up?” were two of the stingers that Sydney sent in her direction. This will be one to watch especially as Sydney’s triumph is short-lived with Alayah’s inevitable return.

What is the deal with Peter parading these poor girls around his hometown in the first couple of weeks of the season? There’s a time for doing exactly that and fortunately, to avoid any confusion, it’s conveniently named HOMETOWNS! There were a couple of big takeaways from Victoria P’s date, first and foremost that she is absolutely soaring up the power rankings. This being said, if I was Victoria, I wouldn’t have been too stoked about some of the locations that were selected for their date. First, a country music hall the stickiness of whose floors I could feel from the comfortable confines of my couch and next an airplane hangar for dinner?? I’m sure Victoria was expecting a sprawling panoramic view of the Malibu coastline and an expensive sushi dinner; instead she got some airplane food washed down with the lingering smell of jet fuel. While she did look a little Miranda-Lambert-esq in her cowgirl get up, I’m sure she could have gone without the kerosene! Their conversation was painfully put-together but did yield one absolute belter of a line as Peter responded to Victoria’s life story by saying: “I’ve never been inspired by someone so much in my entire life.” This was quite a line on MLK day no less. They always say don’t meet your heroes and I can’t help but think that Peter is going to regret his inspiration-classification of Victoria!

Pillow fights are awesome, plain and simple. Some of the girls clearly needed a little refresher on what constitutes a pillow fight however. Tammy seemed to be doing her best Khabib impression, abandoning her pillow and instead opting for a combination attack anchored by the crossface chicken wing with a seamless transition to the tiger feint crucifix armbar. Even Alayah, the eventual winner, opted for some below-the-belt tactics, unapologetically crushing Sydney and grabbing her hair in true why-were-you-speaking-to-my-ex-boyfriend-outside-the-bar-you-bitch fashion. As with the airplane race in episode 1 and the fashion show in last week’s episode, the lack of clear, codified rules of engagement made determining a winner very difficult. It was therefore unsurprising that Sydney and Alayah found themselves duking it out in the finals based on Demi’s estimation that they had displayed the “most effort…” Their relationship is budding as one of the most contentious of the season and just as Ali and Frazier will forever be remembered for the “Thrilla in Manila,” these two will be immortalized for their participation in “The Fightie in Nighties.”    

The rose ceremony was great. Either Peter is very easily confused, or he doesn’t understand the fundamental value proposition of The Bachelor for 95% of contestants. It’s quite cute that he thinks he will find true love while simultaneously dating 32 women, however he needs to realize that the main reason these women are on the show is to bolster their status as middling Instagram influencers and that they’re laying it all on the line for a few thousand extra followers. Maybe I’m cynical, but for Sydney to call out Alayah in front of the whole group for her genuineness would be like Jose Altuve lobbying Congress to outlaw dog shock collars. Pot calling the kettle black much?

Peter did have some difficult decisions to make and he followed the classic playbook of avoidance and advice-seeking to try and sidestep his duty to Bachelor nation to stir up as much drama as possible. Whenever I’m making a tough decision, running away from that decision is always my first instinct. My second instinct is to seek advice from Chris Harrison. He doesn’t ever respond but I guess that guy gets a lot of DMs from people with issues more pressing than whether to put zesty ranch or blue buffalo on my salad at lunch! Peter executed this one-two punch expertly and his decision to can Alayah was initially shocking before it was revealed that she makes a comeback next episode. Every goddamn time I tell myself that this could be the last episode I watch, and every goddamn time, like a fish takes to water, I am drawn back in.

Bachelor Week 3 Preview

It’s not often that the producers of The Bachelor are compared to the architects of early twentieth century Middle Eastern territorial accords; however, the more I think about it, the more I cannot help but notice the startling parallels that exist between said producers and the eponymous creators of the infamous 1916 Sykes Picot agreement. In a nutshell, Sykes and Picot were diplomats tasked with redrawing the borders of the Ottoman Empire and are often pinned as the fathers of modern Middle Eastern malcontent; and The Bachelor producers are charged with chaperoning 32 besotted and highly volatile girls as they navigate a quest that makes Odysseus’s return from Troy look like a stroll in the park. Struggling to see the connection? Imagine for a second that the ladies vying for Peter’s heart are Middle Eastern tribal groups and the Bachelor house is the region where they must coexist. You would hope that those in charge of drawing territorial and inter-personal lines between these tribal groups would opt for the most harmonious coexistence possible, and would pay some mind to the friction that exists between actors. Just as Mark Sykes and Francois Picot drew the borders of the modern Middle East with uninformed and reckless abandon, so too do the Bachelor’s producers sow the seeds of discord and cultivate chaos between the ladies in the house with a whimsical disregard for domestic tranquility. The big difference? Sykes and Picot were ignorant to the implications of their organizational actions whereas The Bachelor producers facilitate and exacerbate existing conflicts with the deliberateness and dexterity of a Swiss watchmaker. The results of their sinister plot manipulations are nothing short of explosive, here are a couple of production meeting tidbits:

Producer 1 to producer 2: “Let’s insert the embattled and highly contentious Hannah B right in the thick of things at the beginning of the season to rile up the girls and reduce Peter to a sniveling wreck”

Producer 1 to producer 2: “Kelsey and Hannah Ann just had a bust-up, lets send them on a date where their looks are being starkly compared by an audience of fashionistas and the man who is choosing between them to be his future wife”

Ever wonder why Peeves the poltergeist was allowed to stay at Hogwarts? Or why people watch NASCAR? (the crashes duh). Ever wonder why six million of your fellow Americans sacrifice their Monday nights at the altar of Chris Harrison every week? People thrive on chaos and sign me up for a double dose next week!

Some other thoughts, comments and concerns with a view to Monday night:

In the field of electromagnetism, it is universally understood that opposite poles attract and like ones repel. While the Bachelor is undeniably electric and my attraction to it is strongly magnetic, it is clear from Kelsey and Hannah Ann’s recent interactions that their opposition is no source of mutual attraction. I would more accurately describe it as a shit show of epic proportions that shows no sign of letting up anytime soon. I cannot be the only one who sees Champagne-gate for what it is: a producer-induced gimmick, but honestly, regardless of its provenance as long as it fans the flames then who the hell cares? In the indelible words of Pat Benatar, “Love is a Battlefield” and at this point the stage is set, the participants are in their corners, and the historical parallel could not be clearer: this is the Battle of the Bulge and the theater of war is Peter’s pants.

I fear that Hannah Ann is becoming Bachelor Nation’s bête noire, a mark that I don’t think is totally fair, especially given her headwear homage to Lizzie McGuire during the runway walk last week. Turns out that now all you have to do is impersonate people called Hillary to have vast swaths of the American public chanting, blogging and Tweeting to have you proverbially locked up… I thought that stuff was So Yesterday but apparently not! All of this in the wake of Disney’s announcement that they would be shelving Hillary Duff’s much slated return to the role that made her famous… ugh, neither of these hat-wearing heroines deserve this kind of treatment! WITCH HUNT!

The more I think about Victoria F’s purported runway confidence issues, the more the words of Knives Out’s gentleman sleuth Benoit Blanc, “I suspect foul play,” stick in my mind. A major part of The Bachelor’s shtick week-to-week is propelling the contestants out of their comfort zones and while Victoria F projected a lack of confidence beforehand, her ultimate performance on the strip was reminiscent of “The Panther” Karlie Kloss herself! While the Hannah Anntelope ended up getting away, Victoria F’s predacious performance adds more weight to the idea that she is playing the sympathy-for-roses card. Her name isn’t Noel, but after the trench-coat lingerie stunt and passionate mid-walk kiss, no doubt Peter will be having dreams about her ringing his bell! (Also did anyone else not know that the lead singer of Wheatus is a guy?!?!?! Who knew!) I could be completely wrong on this and she’s totally genuine, (I also in no way want to impugn the potential mental health implications of going on The Bachelor – they are no doubt numerous and significant) but the whole episode and surrounding emotionality really peaked my legitimacy radar.

Let’s just hope for the sake of all the girls in the house that Peter doesn’t have a cold sore, because his make-out rate is a truly staggering thing to behold. Colton was like a middle-schooler. Making out was his sex. He would build and build and build to an intense climax and then BAM -> make-out time. As we know from Pete’s extensive windmill exploits, these make-outs are nothing more than an amuse bouche for a weary campaigner like himself. Maybe take it easy next episode? Pete, if you’re reading this you’re probably thinking my reaction is born from jealousy… well I tell you, that’s only about 93% the case… The dialogue seriously suffers as a result of your trigger-happy tonsil tickling and if there’s one thing that keeps me coming back to The Bachelor, boy is it the dialogue!

Three things to look out for:

  1. Freshman Deminar

By all accounts, it’s been a big week for ladies named Demi. Demi Lovato was announced as the Superbowl anthem singer (hammer the over) and it was teased at the end of last episode that we would be reacquainted with the everyone’s favorite disaster, Demi Burnett. What next? Demi Moore announces that she’s lining up a Striptease 2 or that her and Bruce Willis are back on? All I know is that she’s an excellent follow on Twitter even if she was talking openly about her desire to do drugs this week!

This season is in dire need of a Demi-like character to grab the bull by the horns and make some shit happen – hopefully her presence rubs off on some of the other girls

2. Pillow fights

These were teased in the promo as well… Pillow fights are sweet from a participation and a viewing standpoint and hopefully the girls will use it as an opportunity to hammer out some pent up frustrations with one another. I wonder if it will be every woman for themselves or more of a team death match type setup? Tilted Towers, I’ll be there.

3. More Hannah from Heaven?

It is still a mystery as to whether Hannah B will play any additional role in this current season, however the internet is already awash with rumors that Hannah will be back for a second season as the Bachelorette after Chris Harrison politely referred to her as a “trainwreck.” Four consecutive seasons… yikes! In the winter, she was given the Colt shoulder, during her Spring season as the Bachelorette once again love failed to blossom, we are currently experiencing an arid summer, her eyes the obvious exception (although who knows how this season will shake out), and maybe a fourth, Fall season? One can only hope that her fortunes change with the leaves! Remember Bachelor producers, when you’re down and troubled, and need a helping hand filling out the bracket; Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall, all Chris has to do is call and Hannah’ll B there yes, she will, you’ve got a friend.

Bachelor Week 2 Recap

It is not often that I lie awake at night contemplating life’s unanswerable conundrums; however, when I do, the same consortium of practical and existential questions always make the list. When is Mason Ramsey coming out with new music? do blondes have more fun? and what is love? (baby don’t hurt me) are just some of the queries that consistently swirl around my simple, easily-confused brain. There is one question however that re-emerges and circulates with a certainty usually only ascribed to death and taxes: what in the name of sweet baby Jesus did humanity do to deserve The Bachelor?

Before we get to the episode itself, perhaps the biggest bombshell of the past week in Bachelor world was an Instagram blunder of truly gargantuan proportions. To say that many of The Bachelor cast-members have credibility issues is about as obvious a declaration as saying water is wet or that Justin Bieber is the voice of our generation… Still, come on Madison, you had one goddamn job. I’m not going to castigate her for having a burner account (or ten), we all do, but you won’t ever see my alias @GreatGuyHotPersonality making these kind of rookie login mistakes! Madison Prewett? More like Madison Blewett… Perhaps this is all a long con and Madi is looking for common ground to take a run at Twitter burner account legend Kevin Durant? Maybe her memory isn’t so good, but given his free-agency snub of the Knicks and their Square Garden, my guess would be he’s not all that partial to Madisons! Hey, shoot your shot Madi, just make sure you’re using your “so genuine and real” account when you do it.  

Some initial thoughts on the latest round of character development:

Sydney seems like a very sweet girl, however if you follow up your claim that you “left so much to be here” and the things you cite are: “my mom and my family,” come on… I must admit my assessment of her is somewhat skewed by the fact that I would prefer to listen to the Kars 4 Kids theme song for 24 consecutive hours rather than her voice, but hey, a matter of personal preference no doubt. It was interesting to find out during some of my wider reading that Sydney and Hannah B were high school classmates. This doesn’t mean anything in my estimations, although Hannah B was class vice president so probably peaked in high school.

Natasha is a real sass monster. Her brutal honesty from the outset is quite refreshing, but as a man who idolizes Peter and his ability to work the room, she really burst my bubble when Peter was clearly having a moment of reflection about Hannah B. A little more compassion please Natasha…

I was initially a little lukewarm on Tammy, but as the season has developed she has increasingly used her somewhat peripheral position to stir the pot wherever possible and is an early frontrunner for the Sunday-brunch-post-mortem-MVP. Drama is her oxygen and while her pot-stirring and relation-meddling have yet to come to a Shakespearian crescendo, no doubt as the fire burns and the cauldron bubbles the toil and trouble will not be far behind. Keep stirring Tammy, then dish me up a big bowl of witches’ brew.

Peter needs to chill with the fucking gifts… the small red car was kind of cute and whatever, but the family photo at the vow renewal ceremony is just weird. It was inappropriate enough that she was there in the first place, but receiving merchandise from the event adds a whole extra layer of unnecessary and strange complication. This may be a producer-induced gimmick, a natural generous streak or it could be a learned habit after years peddling his hospitality aboard cross-country flights, but whatever the source, Pete, you’re not Derek Jeter so cool it with the post-one-night-stand gift baskets.

Hannah Anne is the gift that keeps on giving. She is young, dynamic, and possesses the unique ability to twist every other girls’ knickers into a hot, complicated mess! This collective Gordian panty knot was tugged even tighter on Monday night with what can only be described as the most audacious heist since Nicholas Cage said, “I’m going to steal the Declaration of Independence.” Just the thought of stealing another woman’s champagne and hijacking her “moment” with a hunky pilot named Peter, contravenes most traditional standards of decency, however the execution was cool, calculated and altogether beyond reproach; an absolute cucking clinic. It was a coup so daring it would have given Danny Ocean a danger boner the likes of which could not be conjured by relatively simple, Julia Roberts-inspired casino capers! I’m still trying to determine exactly what my favorite part of the whole debacle was, but it’s hard to argue against the off-screen champagne pop/accompanying shock and horror on the faces of the expectant girls. The eminently meme-worthy exploding prosecco was another highlight, although my description will not do justice to the hilarity of the still image. The only way Hannah Anne could have heaped additional insult on top of brutal injury is if she had blasted the champagne cork at the unsuspecting Kelsey and then rode off into the sunset, Peter in tow, astride a shimmering unicorn. Oh wait, or win the fashion show. Howdya like that huh Kelsey? Amazing stuff.

Nothing gets the American public going like some good old-fashioned objectification, and once again, the producers did not disappoint in their descent to new depths of debasement. Making the girls perform a runway fashion show for Peter under the guise that they would “be able to show their personalities?” What could possibly be misconstrued with that? It looks like Janice Dickinson may have been indulging in some of the same poppy potion as her namesake Ms. Joplin (R.I.P.), but nothing could take away from the absolute streaking comet that was Hannah Anne’s runway performance. She was even able to overshadow the line of the season so far: “boyfriends are temporary; cashmere is forever” – hell yeah Carson Kressley (although he clearly doesn’t have a cat with expensive taste!) The date wasn’t as dramatic as I was expecting, partly because of Hannah Anne’s transcendent performance, but also because of the incredibly arbitrary system of scoring. One highlight was another ticket to ride the Victoria F emotional rollercoaster – the topsy turvy fairground attraction that doesn’t end with a picture of your screaming faces, but with multiple episodes of the waterworks. If anyone has misplaced a large bag of freshly chopped onions, then my first port of call would be her vicinity, although if it is a concerted tactic to garner sympathy roses then the strategy has been effective to this point.  

For those who wanted Monday night fireworks, Clemson and LSU weren’t the only Tigers with their claws out vying for supremacy on national television last night! The Kelsey Mykenna confrontation followed up by Kelsey’s vicious attack on Hannah Anne was a dramatic one two punch that resembled a wounded heavyweight in the twelfth-round swinging for the fences. Trying to pick out the most hurtful lines was difficult. I felt like an overburdened intern trying to scribble down all of the wild recitations of an overly-excited auctioneer… here are some of my favorites:

“You make your bed and you have to lay in it too” – bed makers are better at everything.

“I don’t tolerate snakes, they’re my least favorite animal” – alright Indiana Jones.

“I’m real, you’re calculated” – projecting.

“I’m not moving forward because I’m not a fake bitch” – ice cold.

Homeric. Miltonian. Maybe even Mean Girlian. The Hannah Anne Kelsey rift is only just getting going and I’m fired up about it.

One final thought… The bitch is back, let’s fucking go, see you next week Demi ❤

Bachelor Week 2 Preview

It’s not often that The Bachelor is compared to an ebullient provincial French stew… In fact, this might be the first time. Regardless, as the week has progressed and the time removed from the mayhem of Monday night has increased, I find the comparison rather suitable, if not idéal. Julia Child fondly referred to Beef Bourguignon as “certainly one of the most delicious dishes ever concocted by man” and the position of The Bachelor at the apex of human achievement on the small screen renders one immediate consistency with the magnum opus of French cooking. The similarities do not end with their purity of pedigree… Both stew and show have bold, brash characters complemented by subtle and mysterious side plots; and give the Burgundian piece de resistance an opportunity to marinate in its own juices for a few days and the flavor is amplified, just as The Bachelor’s intricate plotlines, it’s searing dialogue and it’s humble, horny humanity require several days of reflection to fully digest and appreciate. Three days have come and gone, and as a fine bag of Franzia Cabernet Sauvignon refines over its three-day maturation period, so have some of my thoughts about the events of Monday night and the future prospects of our eligible bachelorettes.

Let’s jump in…

The first rose ceremony always concludes in somewhat of a Pyrrhic victory for the Bachelor in question… Peter succeeded in narrowing down the playing field of ogling ladies to 23 and is theoretically closer to finding his soulmate, however, just as Pyrrhus discovered in victory over the Romans at Asculum in 279 BC, the losses sustained were immense and the additional clarity/blurry next steps did not justify such cavalier and injurious actions. Pyrrhus was contending with the might of the Roman Empire. All Peter had to do was toss a rose in Kylie’s direction and calamity could have been avoided. In my humble opinion, losing Kylie is tantamount to defeat. Yes, I know it’s a TV show predicated on week-to-week elimination and it’s unrealistic for all of the girls to get a fair bite at the apple at the start, but c’mon, this is Kylie we’re talking about… She planted the seed, tended to the sapling, nurtured the tree, saw her arboreal baby survive harsh winters, gale-force winds and arid summers with the sole intent of plucking a perfect apple from its branch and bringing it to Peter. At least give her a goddamn bite! The Salem Witches were afforded more due process.

 (cute right?)

Onto a slightly less partisan reflection… I think we can all agree that the airplane-related tasks conducted by the badass, if a little Trunchbullian, air force lady were fucking awesome. Personally, I would have been perfectly happy with the entire episode comprising clips of the poor girls battling against the mega fans, however I appreciate that it doesn’t do much in the way of nurturing narratives. Let’s just pray we don’t have to endure any more mathematical showdowns this upcoming week… Don’t get me wrong, it was highly enjoyable watching fully grown women flounder in the face of the speed, distance, time equation, however, my initial laughter at the puzzled looking faces of the contestants was quickly assuaged when I realized that I too was unable to correctly answer the simple third grade math problem. If you were one of those obnoxious young students who asked their math teachers questions like: “when are we ever going to use the Pythagorean Theorem in real life?”, I hope you were watching the Bachelor and had your brain twisted into a mental pretzel by the harsh reality of your current mathematical incompetence. Who knows, next week the contestants might be forced to buy 274 watermelons and distribute them in the ratio 5:3:2 to Dave, Bob and Steve? Bet you wish you had done the extra-credit ratios assignment now! Regardless, last week was one for the third grade math teachers out there. Bless up Miss Catheral (and thanks again for naming your son after me. I hope he’s doing well and not writing reality television blogs.) 

Another aspect of the airport testing I enjoyed immensely was seeing the young ladies overshoot the number of feet in a mile by factors of ten. My only explanation for this inflation affliction was that their distance measures had been calibrated by insecure ex-boyfriends who had made a habit of overestimating the size of their manhood… Leave it to Python, ahem, I mean, Pilot Pete to have the number of feet in a mile absolutely on the button!

The dinner scenes are some of my least favorite in The Bachelor… It is as if the producers are playing the popular Lil Wayne refrain “We eat each other whenever we at the dinner table” on loop in the green room beforehand to sow the seeds of sexual desire, because invariably the Bachelor and his dolled-up dinner (they don’t actually eat on the show apparently, just get unconscionably drunk) start sucking each other’s faces about 30 seconds into the meal. Certainly the participants seem to be Hell Yeahing and Fuckin’ Righting during the process, but could they not take a leaf out of Drake’s book and take the sushi to go (tell them don’t even plate it) and spare us the on-screen shenanigans?

Three things to watch for next week…

Oh no Hannah Baby what is you doing?

As I have made abundantly clear in the past, I like Hannah B, but she’s simply got to go. Perhaps her exploration of the eligible bachelor pool post-Peter has left her severely disappointed, but she shouldn’t be allowed to cannibalize Peter’s noble and pure pursuit of true love. According to incredibly reputable and reliable medical sources, windmills cause cancer, and that’s exactly what Hannah B is becoming on this season.

Anyone who knows me well understands my unconditional love for Jake Owen and his body of work. Weird brag, but I went on a camping trip in the Poconos and saw his concert at Mount Airy Casino not a big deal. I digress… He wrote a song, no, more of a diss track, about Alabama Hannah. I’m going to leave it here, safe in the knowledge that her impropriety is not going unnoticed by those with larger platforms than my own.

The Victorias’ secrets unravel

Victoria P is foxy. Not in the Foxy-Knoxy-murder-your-roommate-with-the-kitchen-knife foxy, but I get the feeling that she’ll be digging through trash cans looking for receipts on her competitors before next week’s episode is done. Expect some fireworks from this one.

It turns out Victoria F’s secret is that she cries relentlessly. Tough secret to hide when the Bachelor house is second only in cameras per square foot to Kim Kardashian’s bedroom circa 2007…

Wheat from the chaff

During The Bachelor, we hold just one truth to be self-evident: that NOT all women are created equal. There are 6-8 girls who really have a shot at this thing now that Kylie is gone… I anticipate the gulf between the frontrunners and the field only growing in the forthcoming episode. They received lots of positive buzz in the first episode but don’t be surprised if Madi, Kelley and Hannah Anne continue to make inroads into Peter’s vulnerable heart.

Happy watching people!

Bachelor Week 1 Recap

There are few recurring events that bear the gravity and spark the kind of intense conflict than does setting the tone, tenure and tuning of the television set in the evening. Sometimes the decision takes time, other times it is spur of the moment – in both cases, the result is of mammoth consequence. Notoriously indecisive Sophie wouldn’t have even had trouble choosing what to watch last night – its Bachelor season bitches!

The Bachelor producers are smart. To kick off their angsty-mid-career-who-fucking-switches-numbers-to-anything-other-than-69 Kobe season (24 for the sportingly-illiterate amongst you), they picked a Monday evening where the other principal attraction on television was the brain-numbingly boring prospect of seeing the Nuggets duke it out with the Hawks on NBA Center Court. Grumbling boyfriends from loveseat to shining loveseat weren’t missing Monday Night Football and channel-flicking, old-hat-wearing roommates would have quickly discovered that Diners, Drive-ins and Dives (eager to avoid conflict with the Big Bach Wolf no doubt) had been relegated to the 10PM timeslot and Friends probably isn’t even on Netflix anymore. A survey conducted by the Center for Disease Control last year discovered that 79% of non-cord-cutting Americans had only maintained their cable subscriptions to watch The Bachelor before the “Hulu peasants got their filthy mitts on it…” During bachelor season that cable cord is nothing short of umbilical; forget the belly button Mr. Harrison, inject it right into my veins.

Here are some thoughts on the first episode

  1. Still reeling from last year’s prediction that the sloth would go all the way (she was flicked in the first episode), I was less quick to nail myself to the proverbial cross for any one bachelorette right out of the gate… Sike. To say that Hannah Anne is the proud owner of all my eggs, my basket and my kitchen sink after my performance in her Instagram DMs last night, would fail to capture just how confident I am in her enduring success. She’s already wrapped this thing up. Not even the mascara-filled pyroclastic flow gushing from Hannah B’s eyes will be enough to halt the inexorable rise of my sweet princess. While her painting skills leave a lot to be desired (the landscape scene she gifted Peter with assorted vaginas in the foreground was a little alarming), she has already incited 3+ on-screen incidents of crying, has flawlessly executed 2 Peter-steals in cold blood and currently leads the league in makeouts and first impression roses – how much more evidence do you need for a deep, possible championship run?  
  • By all accounts, I generally like to take one thing from each Bachelor episode and apply it to my life that upcoming week! This week, it’s that the rule of law is completely obsolete and basically you can do whatever the fuck you want in order to achieve your ultimate goal. Yes, “you-definitely-banged-him-after-a-chance-hotel-lobby-encounter” Kelley, I am talking about your heinous attempt to keep it between the navigational beacons on the otherwise hilarious obstacle course… To my banking friends, insider trade the fuck out of the markets this week; pump and dump like Hannah B post fantasy suites… to my friends still in college, copy those P-sets with a little less fear of repercussion… Me? I might finally pluck up the courage and take the entire box of Halls menthol cough drops from the medicine cabinet at work. Lawlessness breeds lawlessness… You want us to turn into Somalia Kelley? I hope you’re happy now.
  • OK, we get it, Pete is an absolute legend between the sheets. He can fly planes, he is a certifiable man-missile, he seems like a genuinely nice guy AND he flashes his sword around windmills with the skill and precision of Don Quixote himself? You shitting me? To us mere mortals, how demoralizing is this entire windmill narrative? Holy shit, if bearing the weight of societal expectations wasn’t already a Sisyphean challenge, the legend of Pilot Pete’s joystick is adding a huge, dick-shaped boulder on top of the existing one we’re pushing up the hill! Will not be surprised in the slightest if Pete jumps over a windmill at some point in this season and runs away from the burden of his own sexual prowess.  
  • I don’t want to brag here, but in my time I have thrown up a couple of times… Victoria P’s abhorrent attempt to convince the American public that the spinny turbulence machine had driven her vomit made me sick. She was like a middle-schooler trying to convince her parents to keep her home from school so she could miss a science quiz. Hey, good on Pete for giving her a bottle of water at the end but subsequently being hailed as Mother Theresa? If Pete is driving the bar up with his incomparable carnal competence, Victoria P is driving it down when it comes to basic human decency and compassion in the aftermath of a nationally televised stomach pump. 
  • Madison’s date… What was up with that? While Hannah Anne was giving me Demi flashbacks with her snarky comebacks under cross-examination, the Tenille Arts show was eerily reminiscent of the Caelynn Colton Red Rocks Brett Young scene. Too much, too young, too fast? All three apply to Madison in this instance. It was another example of seaplane pilot Peter’s ability to drop deep emotional anchors into these women (Madison, Hannah Anne and Kelley are all outwardly and unashamedly besotted as well as Hannah B. oh fuck…) – there’s gonna be some serious heartbreak this season and I am licking my lips.
  • I have been a big fan of Hannah B for a long time. Maybe she just loves being on TV? Maybe she’s crushing Chris Harrison on the side? I get the drama, but the prospect of her re-entering the house is unpleasant. Especially given the relentless stream of windmill jokes to this point, it sucks the life out of the other developing narratives. We know how they feel about one another, but Hannah can you stop being so selfish and let him date 32 women simultaneously before you confess your undying love for a man you dumped after a 4-pump performance? The guy laid it all on the line for you, let him go and overachieve elsewhere.

Always sad to see a lot of lovely young ladies go home early, especially Kylie, miss you already my love xxx

Til next week…

Bachelor Season 24 Preview

It’s not even 3PM this fine Monday and it’s already shaping up to be a tough week… I was uncharacteristically bright-eyed and bushy-tailed strolling into work this morning and completed my assigned tasks in record time (thus exposing my normal productivity as a shadow of my untapped potential); my gambling performance last week can politely be described as “abject,” impolitely as “depraved and degenerate (I must pay my leering and gloating bookie today);”! and as this little introduction has already exposed, I have no fucking clue where to put punctuation in-and-around quotation marks, semi-colons and parentheses. Ouch.

It then dawned on me that all three of these maladies had quite easily attainable remedies! I am currently writing this, thus redressing the balance of my unusual morning productivity; I applied Fermi’s Golden Rule for semiconductors which gave me the answer to my second pain-point I was desperately looking for:

and I decided that my New Year’s Resolution would be to avoid difficult/ambiguous punctuation wherever possible. I also remembered that today was the start of a journey… A journey that would weave a complex web of emotional linkages, that would call into question the very institution of monogamous relationships, and that would end in a superficial and often short-lived matrimonial experiment founded on distrust, jealousy and intense fan-fueled pressure. Sound perverse? Yes. It is. Very. And I fucking love it. Thanks Obama.

I started watching the Bachelor for a couple of reasons. First, I thought girls might prefer talking about Colton’s lubricous and Adonisian bone structure a little more than the relative merits of putting Pastrnak on the Bruins second line to help distribute scoring, or what Mookie Betts is going to get in salary arbitration this off-season… Actually that was the only reason, and while the new conversation topic has yet to bear significant fruit, I have little doubt that Pilot Pete’s season will usher in a new era of kill accumulation rivalled only by the Boeing 737 Max!

While I hope that Colton and Cassie are happy (and based off of Instagram’s relentless visual testimony it seems as though his virginity is about as far gone as me this NYE) I think we can all agree that last season we got FUCKED. After Demi left to go and explore her sexuality and Heather mysteriously disappeared after fulfilling her objective of having her first kiss broadcast to millions of captivated Bachelor sycophants nationwide, there really wasn’t much to shout about. The much-anticipated fence-jump was somehow, some-way drawn out over about 12 hours and the virginity narrative was overplayed and not-altogether believable. Yes, I am happy that Colton finally graduated from “will you take this rose?” to “will you take this hose?” but all-in-all, I’m chomping at the bit for some fresh meat on the chopping block.

So ladies and gents, fasten your seatbelts (“by inserting the metal fitting into the buckle, and adjusting the strap so it fits low and tight around your hips,”) “secure your carry-on items, stow your tray table, and pass any remaining service items and unwanted reading materials to the flight attendants” and grab a drink from the service trolley, we’re expecting some fuckin’ turbulence!

My sleeper

A Wellesley, MA native, I am quite surprised that I haven’t stumbled across, let alone matched with her on one of the many dating apps I have dabbled with over the years. I guess my 57-mile radius does dilute the candidate pool somewhat, but still, throw me a bone here Payton! Maybe I’ve missed her as she exclusively uses Farmers Only… Wouldn’t be surprised, as based on her biography – “Payton is the type of woman who goes into a bar alone and leaves with 100 new best friends” – she seems very ready for some hoe-in’! With Payton, I have no doubt that people Nationwide will be on her side but will she be able to find Pete with her Hail Mary or will she be Manning up with someone else?

The Flight attendants

This is going to be an interesting couple to watch. Don’t be surprised if there is a double date with Pete where they take a flight and these two are the flight attendants. Jade grew up a Mormon, so is no stranger to sharing her man with 31 other girls. “Megan’s mother is her best friend,” which must be a universal trait for people named Meg (@Lynne). While they both have a shared employment experience with Pete, don’t see these two lasting long in tandem. Jade’s religion and recent divorce gives her the kind of personal heartbreak story that will resonate with viewers and no doubt see Utah’s viewership numbers skyrocket – I anticipate her wrestling the oxygen mask from Megan’s aisle seat and watching her mother-loving competitor suffocate her way out of the running while eating all the in-flight refreshments.

The Canadian eh?

A fashion blogger, Mykenna will no doubt know which ice skates to don on as she tries to slip and slide into Pete’s good graces. (For a taste of a Canadian fashion roundup, watch Bill Hader on SNL to see what to expect from Mykenna – 2:47). While she may seem cute, this will be one to watch very closely. She is the joint-youngest member of the field, but as a Langley native, I have no doubt she has a couple of CIA-esq interrogation tricks up her sleeve. A major fan of Grey’s Anatomy, don’t be surprised if she diversifies to Pete’s anatomy as the season progresses. All we can hope is that she inherited her parents’ baby-making ability, and not their dismal spelling!

The Redhead

To really understand Lexi, I am going to do a little fly-by on her profile:  

“Lexi went to Florida State University and left college with a very serious boyfriend” Go Noles

“Lexi is a smart, independent and fun woman who is ready to find the future father of her children.” Sarah Spaulding is that you?

“She has been on a number of bad and mediocre dates around New York and can’t seem to find the right guy.” I am right over here sweetheart, Friday, 7PM, MonoMono for another bad/mediocre date?

“Lexi believes that dating as a redhead is hard, but she’s hopeful that Peter will like to spice things up the way only a ginger girl can!” Dating as a strawberry blonde is easy as hell. As a marketing coordinator I would expect you to know a thing or two about branding, Lex. CONTROL THE NARRATIVE!

“Lexi would rather be buried alive than be trapped in a room filled with frogs.” WTF?

“Nothing turns Lexi off more than people who are desperate.” @BruceKhan

The Good Samaritan

Madison could really go far in this thing… Nowhere was Madison’s versatility more evident than in her paradigm shift in paper production from Federalist to adoption! Lets hope that her nurturing nature can extend from the American democratic experiment and foster children to Pilot Pete’s wants and needs!

Where do I sign up to be a foster parent and how do I ensure that she is the one recruiting me?

The Victorias

Victoria P. is going on the Bachelor because she “has never given herself a fair shot at finding love…” I’m no mathmagician but if having a 1-in-32 shot amongst other gorgeous women in an environment that makes a snake pit look like a luxurious 5-star resort is giving yourself a fair shot, then Donald Trump is the second fucking coming of Jesus. Her greatest fear is chicken served on the bone… Let’s hope for mile-high Pete’s sake that it’s the chicken and not the bone that is the root of her fear!

Victoria F. is “a big country music fan and will travel to see her favorite artists play a show.” This is a very positive characteristic and makes me like her very much. In the indelible words of Florida Georgia Line, I am sure that Pete will try and make sure “Victoria’s Secret ain’t a secret no more” by the time all is said and done! Yee Haw!

The Home Assistant

Hi Alexa, what the fuck is an esthetician?

The Cattle Rancher

I had to read this biography a couple of times, stopping every time at “Every time Avonlea milks one of her cows, she thanks it for its hard work.” Let’s hope for Pete’s sake that her skills around the udder are cross-functional! Hopefully Pilot Pete can hold his head steady while she milks the cow. She’s looking for a man who can take care of a Texas woman… I would like to formally disqualify myself from consideration.

 My winner

I think Hannah Ann will get off to a slow start but will really grow into her role as the season progresses… she clearly has no problem letting it all hang out (literally and figuratively), despite the fact that she still lives at home… Her connection to home is something I think will appeal greatly to footloose and fancy-free Pilot Pete. Her house is covered in artwork that she has painted and she LOVES home improvement shows. Pete is looking for a down home country girl who can greet him on the porch with a big ol’ glass of sweet tea when he comes back from long-haul flights. She’s hot, she lives at home, she has a younger sister and brother, she likes it steamy – damn the more I think about it she sounds like the female version of me in high school!

Happy reading, happy watching, may the best lady win!