Bachelor Recap: Hoe-metowns

Holy fuckballs, its already hometown dates. This both excites me and depresses me. What the hell am I supposed to do on Monday nights once this is over? How will I go on? Do I need a Lexapro prescription? It’s all too emotionally strenuous.

The first hometown is with Amanda in Laguna Beach. I kept fantasizing that Stephen Coletti is secretly her baby daddy and Hilary Duff was going to do an impromptu performance of “Come Clean”. If you don’t get that reference leave this site and never return. They start the date with a playdate on the beach so Ben can meet Ombre’s kids. Full disclosure; I cried like a newborn when she reunited with her spawn. Listen, Amanda’s kids are cute. I was impressed by their gladiator sandals but had to knock them down a few pegs for the pigtails… it’s a bit Sundays at Church basic for me. And when I say they are cute I mean that half-heartedly. Calm down. Not all kids are cute and it’s detrimental to society to imply differently. But despite all of that, I can’t imagine their connection is strong enough for Ben to be an Insta-dad. Finally, they slip the kids some Benadryll PM and Ben assures Manders that her family was “awesome” kk bye.

Next, Ben heads to Portland Oregon to see Lauren B. I like her and think she is an obvious frontrunner but I need her to chill with the flannel and invest in a professional blowdry. They food truck hop and then head to a whiskey museum. My kind of a date! Not having kids is so refreshing. Is Lauren B always cold or drinking too many sulfites? Her nose is always so red and it concerns me. Lauren’s hott sister is clearly skeptical about Ben and Lo’s relationship so in attempts to get more screen time (which I’m assuming gave her a gallery of triple digit like-worthy #TBT instaposts) pulls Ben aside to get the dirt. In the reality TV moment of my dreams, I was praying Lauren’s sister had one too many glasses of Sangria and tried to make a move on Ben. But instead I was jolted back to planet earth as Ben started fucking crying whilst explaining his feelings for Lauren. Just stab me in the ovary. Or give me Ben’s “hope” bracelet and let me hang myself from a Bachelor mansion balcony. Ugh.

Jojo. The bitch that seems too mentally stable to be on the Bachelor. UNTIL she approaches her Dallas condo and finds a dozen red roses (gag). She assumes they are from Ben but once she starts reading the accompanying 86-page letter attached realizes they are from her ex boyfriend. To be honest, I immediately assumed this was a Cher Horowitz moment from Clueless like when she would send herself flowers and chocolates to make gay-boy Christian jealous. Totally something I would bust out on a hometown. Fucking Chad. I could go into details about Jojo’s thirst trap brothers and shit like that but let me cut to the chase. The moment where Jo’s mother swigged that wine straight from the bottle was the realest moment in television history. Especially since at dinner they were sipping from Baccarat. Ben was like Vivian from Pretty Woman navigating their extensive silverware. Jojo’s family is single handedly keeping potpourri and faux floral enterprises afloat. The takeaway is that Jojo’s mom should be cast on Bachelor in Paradise.

Finally, Ben heads somewhere to meet Caila’s fambam. Guys… “My dad is the CEO of a toy company” was so Gretchen Weiners I can’t even. So they awkwardly build a playskool dream house and I’m bored as fuck. I really liked Caila’s family. I desperately wish her mother would’ve opted for effing Invisalign but I digress. Caila assures her family that Ben is the one and wants to tell him she is in love with him. Either the Filipino food that was served kick started some impulsive bowel movements so she needed to find a toilet ASAP OR she totally pussed out because bitch said nothing. Fuck she has great hair though…

Amanda gets sent home (saw that one coming) and I will miss her demure Cinderella nature and severely aggressive ombre hair. Fuck I miss Lace. Until next week bitches!


A Mother’s Love (& Impending Therapy Bills)

Yesterday, I had the delight of being forced into a Ladies of Leisure outing with my mother and Aunt Jodie. These outings are common and usually quite enjoyable. My mother loves about five things unconditionally: sushi, horror movies, Ronald Reagan, Chardonnay, and her American Express. When she can intersect at least three of these things in one day she really loses her shit.

She proposed the three of us go for a nice sushi lunch and then go to see a movie. Uni on someone else’s dime can pretty much guarantee my presence to anything. “Jackie, want to come to my anal bleaching appointment and then to put my dog down? I’ll take you to Matsuhisa after.” “Sounds like a blast, I am there!”

It was only after my mother baited me with overpriced yellowtail that she broke the news that her movie selection was fucking Annabelle. OH HELL NO BITCH. I am scared of EVERYTHING. As a child I was terrified of Bert & Ernie from Sesame Street for fuck’s sake – I thought they seemed sketchy and rapey. Once I matriculated to elementary school I developed a fear of invisible whales and would drop turkey in the pool to see if it disappeared – Free Willy really fucked my ass up.

I refuse to go to haunted houses, hope all black cats go extinct, and contribute 40% of my religious beliefs in Judaism to the fact that NO WEIRD SHIT GOES DOWN AT A SYNAGOGUE. Think about it… most horror films have something to do with a church, a priest and the Devil. No one ever started levitating at a Shabbat Dinner over kosher wine and Bubby’s brisket. Just saying…

Anyways, nothing about my spirit bode well with seeing an ACTUAL horror film. My mother ordered me hot sake and told me she would get me some popcorn, Raisinettes and a random Neiman Marcus gift card she found in her car.

Further catapulting this already frightening situation…. My mother thought it would be hilarious to bring this Halloween prop in her purse to bust out in the middle of the movie.



Midway through the movie, I had lost six pounds, was covering my eyes and plugging my ears while simultaneously bobbing my head blindly into a bucket of popcorn. I kept looking over at my mother and mouthing “I HATE YOU.” My real life Mommy Dearest was clearly enjoying my despair and decided during the height of the movie to bust out her little prop. She slyly wrapped her arm around me from behind and casually rested the prosthetic limb gently on my shoulder. I looked and immediately shot up from my seat screaming “WHAT THE FUCK!”

The only thing that kept me from going into full cardiac arrest was the fact that the hand seemed partially African-American and I down with the swirl. My mother was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. This incident has caused quite a strain in our relationship and I still have not recovered. I can’t sleep, refuse to forgive my mother and will never go within 5 miles of an American Girl Doll store. However, if there is a one-armed Milano dreamboat out in the world, hit a bitch up.