Foiled Again! The Bachelor recap

One of these two people is totally in love
Okay, so I had a DVR malfunction and only caught hour 2 of The Bachelor last night.
My apologies. (Blame Gossip Girl and House—two shows long past their expiration dates that I nonetheless can’t stop watching. Old habits die hard, people.)
The first thing I caught was Courtney doing some sort of double reverse sneak attack on the group date and winning the rose.
I don’t even know how she did it, but I do know that she non-ironically likes to utter the phrase “winning!” which is so fitting because—from a mental health standpoint, at least—compared to her, Charlie Sheen is Tom Brokaw.
(Don’t you just love the way Courtney touches herself all the time—sometimes with a rose in her hand and sometimes without? It’s so deliciously cray-cray: It’s like her narcissism manifests in actual self-touching.)
Anyway, so yeah, I missed how Rachel got her rose. Did she have a solo date with Ben? If so, I can only assume it went something like this:
Rachel and Ben do some vaguely daredevily thing that he weaves into an elaborate metaphor about their future together:
“If we go-cart down a mountainside we can go-cart down the mountainside of life together.” Or somethin’ like that.
Then, lots of kissing.
Then, a romantic dinner, with Ben confessing to the camera that the connection he feels with Rachel is so real and so right and a little scary because he can totally see himself with her and she fits into his little Ben world like the missing piece of the little Ben world puzzle.
Then, more kissing.
Then he ambles off to the get the rose, she pretends to be surprised to get it, more kissing, and she floats home with the smug confidence of a woman who believes that she and Ben are in ♥ 4Evah! and 2Good2Be4Forgotten and all the other girls give her death stares from the couch.
(Am I anywhere close?)
All I know about the group date is that it seemed to be going one way—Kacie perhaps?—and then Courtney broke out the big guns—crying? threatening to leave?—and Ben was helpless in the face of her master manipulations. Poor sap.
Now onto what I did see:
Ben’s next solo date is with the guileless Jennifer. I worry a lot about Jennifer, because she seems so sweet and innocent and fragile, like a little lamb, if a lamb sported Colorsilk Luminesta 150 Red Permanent Hair dye by Revlon and killer abs.
So he and Jennifer go repelling into a crater (yeesh, is this The Bachelor or Fear Factor?) and Ben has a metaphor at the ready:
“Relationships are all about trust and diving into the unknown.”
Then they go swimming in the swampy, sure to be super sanitary crater water—once again, congratulations on those bodies, kids—and kiss a lot.
“Nothing can ruin this date!” gushes Jennifer. Cue the monsoon.
But they run through the monsoon together because they can “weather the storm of this monsoon they can weather the storm of life.” (Okay, Ben didn’t actually say that, but probably just because it ended up on the cutting room floor.)
Meanwhile, back at the house, Blakely is dying Emily’s hair—with foils.
First of all, I thought Blakely was a VIP cocktail waitress. This behavior is not befitting a VIP cocktail waitress. Second of all, even if she moonlights as hairstylist on the side, who the hell brings foils on a vacation? (Did she also pack a waitress tray and cocktail glasses?) Third of all, if you were competing in a reality TV show for the love of a man, would you let your competition anywhere near your hair? One false move with those foils and Emily looks like, well, Jennifer.
Back on the solo date, Jennifer is having the “best night of her life” (uh oh). “I’m falling for Ben,” she says. “I would be the perfect partner for him for life.” (Double uh oh.)
Once again, there is some sort of awkward concert with a semi-famous musician—Clay Walker—and once again, the bachelorette thinks Ben actually set this whole thing up himself.
“It makes me feel really special that Ben would set this up for me!” she says.
And by Ben, she means Next Entertainment Telepictures, the production company that produces The Bachelor (sometimes nicknamed “Ben.”).
Cocktail party time.
All the girls are sitting on the couch bad mouthing Courtney and when she enters the room, they go silent.
It’s actually hilarious. No one is even smart enough to even pretend that they weren’t all just talking shit about her. No one even offers a half-hearted, “Oh, Jamie was just telling us the funniest story. About somebody else. Who is definitely not you.”
Instead, they’re all exchanging looks like, “Awkward!”
And damned if Courtney doesn’t just slither over and sit on the edge of the couch and stare them all down, calm as you please.
Love that crazy bitch.
Meanwhile, Ben has asked to spend some quality alone time with Monica.
The whole Monica thing has been a bit of a bust, to be honest. I thought she was going to be a salty, feisty wise-cracking lesbian—the kind of character who would be played by Stockard Channing in the summerstock production of The Bachelor—but she’s really just receded into the background. She’s filler.
Anyway, Emily breaks up their one-on-one time, because she needs to tell Ben something very, very important—namely how wrong, misguided, and flatout dumb he is being about Courtney. (She’s not doing it for herself, people, she’s doing it for Ben.)

Hey future bachelors and bachelorettes of this world, can I give you a little unsolicited advice? Don’t be that guy. Don’t be the “so and so is totally different around the other bachelor/ettes then he/she is around you” guy. It never works. Never. You just seem like a narc and it kinda puts you in the friend zone and you’re also, indirectly at least, calling the star of a show a fool who’s being duped.

Ben even tries to give Emily an out.
First, she starts talking in generalities—although she has every intention of narc-ing on Courtney. (Her secret desire is that Ben will demand the name of this scheming infidel and immediately banish her from the house!)
“There is one girl who is very different around you than she around the rest of the girls,” Emily starts.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about. And I don’t expect you to throw anyone under the bus,” Ben says.
It’s not too late, Emily! Run away! Run away!
“It’s COURTNEY!” Emily says.
And, in fact, Ben does take a  little offense. He’s basically like, “You do Emily and I’ll do Ben, m’kay?”
And she skulks back to the couch in shame.
“I think I just screwed up,” she says. Ya think?
But her mensa moment continues. She starts bitching about Courtney to Casey, the Paris Hilton lookalike, who also happens to be Courtney’s best (and only) friend in the house.
When will these girls learn? The Queen Bee always has a sidekick, someone who is pretty, but not as pretty as she is, and who will blindly obey and worship her.
So Casey immediately goes and tells Courtney about Emily’s tattling to Ben and Courtney FREAKS. OUT.
“I’m a nice person,” she says. (Oh, that’s rich.) “But don’t f**k with me.  Emily should watch herself. I’ll shave her eyebrows off in the middle of the night. I just want to rip her head off and verbally assault her!”
(Just a suggestion, Court-Court: Reverse that order. Because once your head has been ripped off, the verbal assault stings a lot less.)
So Courtney marches up to the couch and confronts Emily and it’s really like Emily has brought a butter knife to a gun fight. She’s not even in Courtney’s league.
And Emily’s little face begins to screw up and her lip begins to quiver in a somewhat unattractive way and Courtney just laughs that crazy, maniacal, Glenn-Close-in-Fatal-Attraction laugh and says, “Good look, Emily! Winning! Winning!!!”
And I just want to get on my feet and applaud.
So rose ceremony dram-ah. Will he deep-six Monica or Emily?
It’s Monica—who actually cries in the limo.
“It sucks when somebody doesn’t feel the way you feel,” she says. (She’s talking about Blakely, right?)
Then Ben announces to the remaining girls: “We’re going to Vieques, Puerto Rico!”
And they’re all squeeing and jumping up and down except for Courtney, who says with a bored eyeroll, “I was just there two months ago.”
And if I were doing the Bachelor music, I would totally play the sad trombone sound, because it is such a perfect buzzkill. (Have I mentioned how much I love that crazy bitch?)
Next week, Ben goes skinny dipping with  . . . well, do I even have to say who?
And I promise to work out my adventures with digital video recording technology.

Two Mean Girls, Smart and Dumb: The Bachelor recap

This is your juicebox on drugs


Two episodes in and I finally figured out what’s wrong with Bachelor Ben: He’s a dude. I mean this with all due respect to the less fair sex—my motto in life has always been “hooray boys!”—but let’s face it, they don’t always do their thinkin with the thinkin’ part of their anatomy . . .

Ben had three early roses to give away and he totally botched two of them. He managed to give one to the psycho “VIP cocktail waitress” (let’s just assume there are always skeptical air quotes around her job title, just to save me future key strokes) and another one to the psycho model, who is so calmly cruel around the other girls and so eye-battingly sweet around Ben, she’s almost a parody of a mean girl. As for Kacie? Okay, she can stay.

That being said, I still love the guy. Of course, he has a perfect little Jack Russell terrier named Scotch, who trots alongside him off leash and howls fetchingly on command (my dog, by way of comparison, bolts the minute I let him off leash and only howls when I’m trying to sleep.) And of course he drives a cool vintage Ford Bronco—although he loses a few points for tricking it out (our Ben is a bit of a fauxhemian, huh?)

The girls have settled into a house in Sonoma Valley and, in case you didn’t catch it the 185 times Ben said it, he wants to show the girls where he grew up to make them feel comfortable and show them how seriously he’s taking his journey and give them more pieces to the complex jigsaw puzzle that is Bachelor Ben and zzzzzzz. . . sorry, dozed off there.

He picks Kacie for the first date.

Okay, people. Help me out here: Who does Kacie remind me of? Physically, she somewhat resembles Minka Kelly (BTW, did you hear that she’s back with Derek Jeter? Is she insane or is she just in it for a fresh supply of gift baskets?), with a touch of Sandra Bullock thrown in for good measure. But that’s not quite it. . .If anyone can tell me what I’m thinking, I would greatly appreciate it.

So Kacie and Ben walk around Sonoma Valley and duck into a toy store where Kacie buys a baton—apparently she was some sort majorette in a previous life. And then they do the most wholesome and stomach-churningly cute thing ever—they march down the street (cobbled, natch) twirling that damn baton. It’s like a scene they cut out of The Music Man because it was too corny.

“It’s like we’re the only two people on the street right now,” gushes Kacie.
(That’s either because they’re sooo smitten they’ve blocked out the world or because the producers cleared the street, hard to say.)
Then they go into a movie theater, where Ben’s proposal to Ashley is playing on a constant loop. Just kidding: It’s something almost as humiliating! Baby home movies.
After I recover from the fact that Kacie was a toddler in 1989 (ugh, pass the Geritol) . . .I watch the movies. First, it’s Kacie, cute and curly as a toddler, then all drum majoretty as a teen. Next it’s Ben. We see his little baby Ben butt, which the producers have inexplicably blurred (anyone who saw the season promo has already seen Ben’s adult butt in glorious high-def—to which I say, thank you Bachelor promo department). Then we see Ben’s father, who died a few years back. So Ben cries and then Kacie cries and then I cry and it’s a big ol’ blubbery mess.

A few sweet kisses are exchanged. And Kacie gets the rose. (If the rest of the show were this wholesome, it would be presented by the Church of Latter Day Saints and I wouldn’t watch it . . . and neither would you.)

Luckily, Courtney and Blakely exist!

Group date time!

Ben tells the ladies that they’re going to be performing in a play.
The girls all have visions of amateur porno films dancing in their heads, so their faces fall when they meet the playwrights: A bunch of cheek-pinchingly adorable 11-year-old kids.

But these kids have obviously been spiking their juice boxes with LSD, because the play is some sort of trippy fever dream that involves dragons and hippies and weasels and Ben as some sort of male stripper prince in a lamb suit.

But first, the auditions, which prove that 11-year-old boys have a lot in common with 28-year-old men.
“Can you jog in slow motion?” one little boy asks Blakely who, coincidentally, is wearing the exact same thing I’m wearing at work today— a striped micro-romper with a skin-tight bodice!

Blakely does the slow run—as Ravel’s Bolero plays in the background.

“That girl with the. . the like. . the. . .I wasn’t a fan of her,” says the most awesome little girl ever

“She did good,” says one of the little boys. (Heh.)

She gets the role of “Gingerbread Man,” prompting Samantha to quip: “What do you get when you cross a gingerbread man with a hooker? Blakely.”

Oh the hits just keep on coming.

They do the play in front of an audience of Ben’s friends and family (in case you hadn’t heard, Ben grew up in Sonoma) and it’s cute and all you need to know is that Ben makes a very good prince lamb stripper.

They retire to a pool and Jennifer, the cute redhead, boldly grabs the first one-on-one time with Ben (go Jennifer!) and they have this season’s first hot tub makeout sesh.

But Blakely will have none of this.

“Being a Scorpio, we’re super passionate and great lovers,” she explains.  So she grabs Ben and then they make-out in the hot tub, too (and possibly have Scorpio style sex. . .) and poor Jennifer has to witness the whole thing and she is shocked, shocked, shocked that Ben is macking on more than one girl.

All I can say is, I hope they are chasing their appletinis with penicillin this season, cause Ben is swapping spit with everyone.

“You seem super grounded,” Ben says to Blakely in the pool.
(Uh, what? She’s the opposite of grounded. She’s a freakin’ floatation device.)

Then he asks about her outfit, which is the most awesome outfit in the history of outfits, as far as Ben is concerned.

“I just thought it was cute,” she says of her micro-romper.
“I’m blessed in some ways. Cheers to being blessed.”
(Yes, boys and girls, she’s toasting to her boobs. )

It’s time for Ben to give his second rose.
“I’m giving the rose to the girl who owned the day and the night. Made the most of her time with me in terms of  . . . conversation.” (So that’s what they’re calling it now.)

And damned if he doesn’t hand the rose to Blakely.

Me at home (Nancy Kerrigan style): Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?

“Blakely pulled the wool over the sheep’s eyes,” says Emily. (Recapping is so much easier when these girls are coming up with all the good one-liners for me.)

So anyhoo, back at the house, Courtney is just sitting around idly tormenting Lindzzzi and Erika and Kacie like they are her playthings.

“I have a connection with him,” she says.

Mail arrives from Ben: “Courtney, let’s spin the bottle-Ben,” reads Kacie, who is sweet enough to actually be happy for Courtney.

“How’d that taste coming out of your mouth?” replies Courtney. (See what I mean? Almost too magically deliciously villainous to be true.)

“She’s purposefully doing this to get under our skin and it’s working,” groans Erika. (Be the change you want to see in this world, ladies.)

So Ben takes Courtney on a date in the woods with Scotch and those glorious red maples and Courtney has to pretend that she likes:
a. communing with nature
b. dogs
c. Ben

So Ben is totally smitten with Courtney because he can see into  her soul and can tell she’s a marvelous human being. *Barf*

“Courtney’s almost too good to be true,” says Ben. (Remove “almost” from that sentence and you’ve nailed it, buddy.)

He gives Courtney a rose. Later, she talks about it on camera. And you know that sort of eerie, faraway humming that crazy people always do in movies that are set in insane asylums?  Courtney does that, all while sort of smearing the rose on her face. It’s the greatest thing ever.

Time for the final cocktail party and rose ceremony.

Basically, Blakely doesn’t follow Bachelor protocol which is: Once you have your rose, back the hell off.
Instead, she keeps dropping in, boobs first, on all of Ben’s one-on-one time.

“Jugs just came in,” Samantha groans. Love. Her.

So all the girls are getting a hate-on for Blakely, which is apparently even more fun than one-on-one time with Ben, because when Ben swoops in and asks Jenna the Blogger for some alone time, she seems vaguely annoyed.
“Can’t you see we’re being catty here?” she seems to say, slumping her shoulders and trudging after him.

Meanwhile, Blakely overhears the girls griping about her and can’t believe what meanypants they all are! It’s not like she has spent the whole day trying to sabotage their dates and steal their man or anything. . .oh, wait.

So she decides the best course of action is to go hide in a corner with the luggage, rocking back and forth.

Outside, Jenna the Blogger is trying to explain herself to Ben. (I love the Hitchcockian crazy music they play whenever Jenna is on screen.)

As always, it’s essentially like Jenna has put a series of words in a blender and now she is just arbitrarily spitting them out.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m not. . I might appear that I’m not. . . it’s hard that it’s only you. .  .” she says. Ben nods understandingly.
Then someone else comes to break up their date.

So Jenna nearly ugly cries, but instead only ugly grimaces and saves her crying jag for the bedroom. (If you’re keeping score at home: This is two cocktail parties and two bedroom crying jags. I’m pretty sure she could’ve shattered the record, had she stuck around any longer.)

You have to wake up pretty early in the morning to fool Ben—at least before 11—so he’s beginning to suspect that not all is harmonious in the house.

“Some of these women are starting to unravel,” he says. “I had no idea it had gotten this bad this early.”

The mansion at this point is like a house of horrors: Wherever Ben turns there’s a crying girl.

First he stumbles across Crying Corner Girl, aka Blakely.
“Uh, what are you doing?” he asks. And you can tell he’s torn by two thoughts:
a. Ohmygod, I gave the rose to a crazy girl.
b. Her tits look really good in this corner.

Now he wanders into the bedroom and sees Jenna crying.
“Jenna? Hello?” he says. “Are you okay?”
Oh, poor bastard.

So, the rose ceremony. The only big loss is Jenna, who is finally put out of her misery.
“I’m in shock,” she says. (Really? Because that last conversation where you belched out some incomprehensible sentences went so well?) 

Then she begins hugging herself.  Hey, someone’s gotta hug her. (Too soon?)

Next week: Ben’s ex shows up. Could it be. . . Jennifer LoveHewitt?

Like a Lesbian Hen in a Henhouse: The Bachelor recap

Find a flaw, bitch.


There has to be something wrong with Bachelor Ben, right? He simply can’t be as hot, sweet, funny, and level-headed as he seems and also be The Bachelor. (It’s sort of like what they say about anyone who runs for president: You have to be a little crazy to want the job.)
So while I watch this season of The Bachelor, I’ll focus on the usual things—the cat fights, the ugly-cries, the creative spellingz, the need to send Jenna’s case file directly to the department Health and Human Services—but I will also be searching for flaws in the seriously too-good-to-be true Ben. Wish me luck. . .
Okay, let’s meet some of the girls, shall we?
We start with Lindzi—yes, Lindzi, with a Z. And no A. Or  Y. . oh forget it.
She’s a horseback enthusiast, who claims that her last relationship ended in the “worst way.”
And I’m all like, Yeah, yeah, stop exaggerating, Lindz.
Then I find out how she was rejected. Via a text that read: “Babe, welcome to Dumpsville…population YOU.”
Okay, she wins. I mean, loses. That is literally the most horrible thing I’ve ever heard. Elin Nordegren is like, “Yeesh, girl got played.”
 (And I’m sure after a breakup like that, Lindz has loads of self-esteem and a healthy regard for men!)
Then there’s Amber, who wears a lot of camouflage and likes to shoot bucks. “Oh Ben better eat some cow balls,” she says, licking her lips. “I will be disappointed if he doesn’t.” That’s not even a double entendre. It’s just an entendre.
Next, there’s Casey, the 24 year old administrative assistant.
When she saw Ben get dumped on TV (as we all did, multiple times, poor guy—I’m pretty sure ABC just randomly injects that footage into their shows from time to time), she felt sad, but then glad, because this meant she had a shot with him.
I wonder if she also thinks that the voices in the radio are speaking directly to her?
Now meet Courtney, one of our resident mean girls. She’s a “model.”
“I’m sure girls are intimidated by me and they should be,” she says.
Courtney also knows what she wants and what she’s worth: 2 carats.
(Only 2? The recession has really messed with bling-based dreams.)
Moving right along we have the baby-obsessed Jane, who works in a maternity ward and spends her day gazing lovingly upon new borns saying, “Call me mama. Who’s your mama?”
She thinks that she and Ben would have beautiful babies, natch.
Oh god, poor Lindsay—our little ambassador’s daughter. Always the wacky sidekick, never the female lead. For her sake, the less said about her goofy little sartorial trip around the globe, the better.
Then we have Jenna, the blogger (I’m so proud to be part of that sisterhood). It almost seems wrong to mock Jenna, right? I mean the girl is obviously unbalanced. (Ha, just kidding. Let’s mock away.)
“I know deep down that relationships work and they don’t work,” she says. If this is the kind of deep thinking she drops on her blog, The Overanalyst, I’d hate to see what constitutes under-analyzing.
When relationships don’t work, Jenna says that she gets “crazed.” (Other times Jenna gets “crazed”: When she drives, when she walks, when it rains, when it’s sunny outside, when she’s alone, when she’s in a crowd . .  just to name a few).
“Ben, I’m coming for you,” she says, ominously. (Ben, run for your life!)
Skipping ahead to Nicki, 26, who has a shameful past: She’s a divorcee, people! (Her 1950s level of shame deserved a 1950s descriptive.)
“The next time I get married, it’s going to be forever,” she says.
And based on the sterling marriage reputation of this show, she’s come to the right place!
(I do believe studies will proves that you are more likely to marry the “guy you just bumped into on the bus” than “the guy who just proposed to you on The Bachelor” but I’ll get back to you on that.)
So. . back to Ben, who is now waiting for various limos filled with shrieking women to roll up and meet him.
There are two kinds of schadenfreude-tastic moments that ensue:
The pre-fab greeting, as exemplified by Erika, the law student:
Erika: The verdict is in and you are guilty!
Ben (playing along—which, by the way, could describe his behavior this entire episode): Guilty of what?
Erika: Being sexy
Max: *headdesk*
The other schadenfreude-tastic greeting is the awkward pause, I have nothing to say, let’s just stand here looking at each other in silence, oh God will this moment ever end, ohmygod I’m blowing this on national TV, wow Ben has nice hair-type greeting. Only slightly less mortifying.
But we do have a few originals:
There’s Samantha, Miss Pacific Palisades, who wears her sash. Groan.
There’s the aforementioned Lindzi, who rides in on her horse. (“Screw you and the horse you rode in on,” says someone named Courtney in response. Heh.)
There’s Holly in her big ol’ derby hat.
There’s Anna, who basically does the Bachelor equivalent of holding out your hand for a slap, pulling it away, and saying, “Psych!”—as she breezes by without a greeting Ben. (“Bold move,” says Bachelor Ben. And by “bold” he means “dumb.” Playing hard to get on a reality TV dating show really makes no sense at all.)
And then there’s Brittney, who brings her. . . grandmother?
The other girls are positively fuming that Brittney was so diabolically clever as to bring her (admittedly adorable) blue-haired granny. To which I’m thinking: Did grandmother’s become some sort of aphrodisiac when I wasn’t looking?
Because if you ask me, there are few things LESS sexy than bringing your grandmother on a first date. It’s not even page one of the Things Not To Bring on a First Date handbook—it’s so obvious, it’s not even in the handbook.
(There’s a reason why you’ve never heard of a GILF.)
One more thing about Bachelor Ben greeting the girls: I thought I couldn’t love him more, but when Shawn slapped him on the arm and he said, “I love a slug on the arm” I discovered I was wrong.
Inside the party, we meet the Amazonian Monica, who looks a bit like Kristen Johnson from Third Rock From the Sun and is, well, a lesbian.
Now talk about a diabolical plan!
Why has no other lesbian ever crashed The Bachelor party? She’s like a lesbian hen in a hen house!
All these women are so vulnerable and needy. She gloms right onto the beautiful, dim Blakely, the VIP cocktail waitress (which I’m pretty sure is a euphemism for . . .well, you know).
She’s hanging all over Blakely and telling her how sexy and beautiful she is and how they are soul sisters for life and Blakely is so confused because she wants to hear these words tonight, but she wants to hear them from Bachelor Ben, but Monica is so confident and . . .tall!
So Monica and Jenna have a fight, which is unfair, because Monica is a bully and Jenna is flying express over the cuckoo’s nest.
A few more thoughts before we wrap this puppy up:
When the rapping epidemiologist is not even CLOSE to being the most embarrassing person of the night, you know it’s been an excellent show.
The producers totally told Ben to keep Jenna around for the dramah. Well played, Bachelor producers, well played.
Oh, I guess I should mention that Lindzi got the Firzt Imprezzion roze.
But Lindsay, the crying clown ambassador’s daughter and Anna, the too-cool-to-say-hi-to-the-Bachelor are both gone.
Also, two hours into the season and Ben is still adorable and perfect. It’s just a matter of time people, just a matter of time. . .
p.s. Probably won’t get around to recapping this every week, but I will try to crank out as many of these suckers as I can.