You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
The Bachelor.
I feel like a member of the village people for even watching the finale.
I am wearing a pink thong and a tight tank top that says Whose Your Daddy?
I am on the couch and trying to get in touch with my more sensitive side. I’m going to need more than a warm cup of hot cocoa and a moral compass.
I’ve seen the promos, I’ve heard the hype, I’ve heard my female co-workers talking.
OK, I’ve never watched a single episode of the Bachelor, but I decided to tune in, to try and watch, to stomach it for as long as I could.
It was disgusting. It’s like trying to eat jelly fish and goat brains. The more you try and swallow it the more your esophagus tries to vomit it back into the world.
I’m watching the first segment and I gotta admit, I’m uncomfortable. My manhood is shrinking and I feel like I need a beer and some hard rock music.
Instead it’s violins and candle’s flickering and moon light walks on some Far East beach.
Watching this is like a personal dare. It’s like hey Cordan I dare ya to watch. Hey AC, I double dare ya to watch. Man up bitch.
I am biased because I want to hate this show. I am almost sure I will hate this show. If I don’t hate this show, I will kill myself.
Is there a chance this saccharine insipidness might catch me off guard and actually win me over? NOT.
Hate it a little. Hate it a lot. The preview at the top of this 3 hour extravaganza is very very important. I honestly have no idea who these love mongrels are so I need to pay attention.
It’s called: The Bachelor after the final rose.
I hate the title. I hate that they call it an event. An event is the election of a president, a pope, a new Spice Girl.
This is a televised wart that must be lanced.
The announcer makes me queasy: It’s Sean’s journey to find love. It will come to a dramatic conclusion he promises.
He cries. She cries. I want to scream.
A woman named Katherine says “it’s scary.”
A woman named Lindsay says “what would i do if i lost you?”
“I’m so in love,” someone says. I’m closing my eyes so I’m not even sure who said this.
Then the quote of the evening comes from this pasty faced bachelor man. “Even though I see Catherine as my wife, I equally see Lindsay as my wife.”
Well, now isn’t that special. Right out of the Utah code of matrimony.
This guy is not even that good looking. Do women even like this guy? He doesn’t seem very masculine.
This bachelor seems a little light in his loafers. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. And God knows my gay-dar is hardly known for its accuracy or its acuity. All I’m saying is that this dude should have checked the box that he likes women before getting a TV gig like this.
The show is a farce. It’s set in L.A. The audience is loaded with women, predominantly white women, predominantly young white women.
The announcer is more masculine than the bachelor himself. “The Quest for love,” he says in his most dreamy voice. “A bachelor’s first.”
Whatever.
But the studio audience gets it. The Women are hooting like it’s a Chippendales sausage fest.
I’m feeling a little queasy watching this. I need a beer and a shot of NFL to make this nauseousness in my stomach go away.
The nationwide bachelor viewing party starts now the announcer says.
I am not feeling very good about this. I’m 11 minutes in and all ready I want to vomit in my hands. Why in my hands? Because I want to hold on to this feeling, to remember how truly horrible this bit of television programming is.
I am now fighting myself not to turn the channel as I watch Katherine meet the family. It’s dreck. It’s contrived. I can’t stand this.
She meets the mom and the dad and they pretend this is a good idea. Then she gets in a van and drives away. I wish it was off a cliff, but not such luck.
Then another van shows up and the weirdness intensifies.
Bachelorette 2.
What makes this even stranger is this craziness is set in Thailand, where rice patties and elephants are the norm.
The bachelor opens the door and a 2nd girl pops out. She kisses him and he kisses her.
He starts saying how much he loves her and can see himself living with her forever.
Hey wait. Didn’t he just say these lies to the girl who just left?
This girl is sketchy. She looks like she could implode in front of the parents. I would like that. I want her to walk in and say “hey mom, hey dad, I’m Lindsay. Let’s do Jello shots off my stomach.”
She comes close when she says to them out of the blue: “We fed monkeys on the beach.”
I don’t know what the hell that means.
It sounds so dumb, I hope his family hates her. Because I think I hate her.
Wow. I’m 15 minutes into the Bachelor and I not only hate the show, but I hate the bachelor, I hate his parents and I hate at least one of these ding bat chicks.
Lindsay’s voice is nauseating. She sounds like a drunk moron. I bet she likes fire ball red hot shots on Spring Break.
The bachelor’s dad loves his son. He seems nice, but I think he’s kind of hitting on both girls figuring, maybe he’ll get lucky with the loser.
OK. It’s been 35 minutes and I’ve met both girls. I’ve met the family. I’ve met an elephant. I would take either one of them, the girls, not the elephant, to the movies, but marry them?
Get real.
Bachelor Dad says “it’s a win win.”
We liked them both, he says.
I hate them all.
I turn on World News Tonight.
The entire first block is about choosing a new Pope.
Now this is the ultimate reality show.
The Papal Rose. The final sacrament.
Which Cardinal will wear the red shoes? Who will emerge through the white smoke of the Sistine Chapel? What would Jesus Do? The after party?
I am going to watch the NFL channel for a while. I need to replenish my testosterone.
OK. I’m back.
They are talking to the two women who are laying out dresses. They are crying. They are dressing. They are crying. The music is playing, the elephants are walking, the girls are crying. One of these girls is going to be Mrs Bachelor. The other girl is going to the gun shop to eat a bullet.
The final rose. Armageddon. Death of a monkey girl.
Back to the studio audience. Host man is talking to the other bachelorettes. Damn these women are hot. They are the losers? This guy chose these two simpletons over this bevy of beauties?
The bachelor is gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
The Gay Bachelor: The black Rose the secret closet. Look whose coming to dinner?
92 minutes in. The bachelor is crying. He looks soggy. He looks weak. A car pulls up. The violins are playing the death march. The windows are tinted. Who will get out? Who is going to get the marital ax on national TV.
A close up of a high heel on the ground. A slimy leg tattoo. It’s Lindsay. She is slinky and scratchy.
“Today is the best day of my life. I’m getting engaged.”
Wow. I hope when they give her the thorn bush there’s not a
357 nearby.
She’s in love, she says. “I can’t wrap my mind around losing shawn. I can’t even think about it. My heart will be shattered.”
Oh my God. He is going to give her the ax and she is going to toss herself into the coy pond.
I hope they have guys in white suits and lithium nearby. This crazy bitch is going to come unglued.
The bachelor is swallowing hard, like a man not sure he likes women.
“This is the toughest thing I ever had to do. I want to give you my heart so bad, but my heart is somewhere else. As of yesterday. so confused and searching for clarity blah blah blah.”
She drops his hands and shakes her head. She is angry. She is about to punch him in the face, maybe the groin.
He is still talking and she is looking off into the distance for the elephant. It’s the 200 yard stare. This freak is still saying I love you while he’s dumping her. And she says “It’s OK”
I feel vomit coming once again as they both say “stop. Please stop.”
“Is it me?”
Oh my God. Is this really on TV? Why do people watch this?
I would rather watch the elephant in the background play soccer or make margaritas with his big elephant paws.
“I can’t imagine my life without you,” Lindsay says.
So is she going to kill herself, or will she have a new love interest by the next commercial break.
Who knows.
“I just want you to know ho much you mean to me.” Shut up Schmuck.
This guy hugs her yet again. He hangs his head and cries. This Bachelor is a loser. This show is ridiculous.
I hope the women in the audience take off their high heels and pound him in the head till he is rendered senseless.
This show is horrible. It would serve the producers right if she takes her own life and leaves a long note blaming them.
This show makes Survivor look like Einstein’s theory of relativity.
Then the show’s producer hands him a letter and the audience gasps.
Did the other girl, Catherine, break up with him?
That would serve that son of a bitch right.
The show is not even over and all ready abc is promoting that Sean has a secret to reveal.
I knew it. He’s gay. He is going to date the show’s host. Perhaps have a 3 way with the elephant. I knew it.
Now this is getting good.
Commercial break over.
Cut to:
OH MY GOD.
Catherine agreed to show up.
How do you tell your future wife you are gay? I am not sure, but I am now convinced 121 minutes into this drama that he is going to either dump her or propose. Perhaps admit he had sex with the elephant or at least thought about it.
Blah Blah Blah. Cry Cry Cry.
Oh man. He’s down on a knee in front of Buddah and an elephant and he’s getting married.
Oh I am so disgusted. The elephant is pissed. I will never watch this show again. It’s like a big disgusting bag of liposuction remnants.
The Bachelor. The Final Rose. The final disappointment.
If you like this show. Sorry. I hate it.
And that is crazy™