Bachelor Recap Week 3

It’s always a sunny day at the Bachelor mansion. The episode starts with the frontrunners single mom with killer ombre hair and small featured Lauren B talking shit about Olivia the Velociraptor. Shocker. Instantly my only concern is where the fuck Lace is.

Lauren B gets the first one on one date and Olivia almost has an annuerism. “The Sky’s The Limit!” reads the date card and my two concerns are; could they at least TRY and make it look like Ben’s writing and not some disgruntled female production assistant’s and do they only plan dates that have correlate with some stupid semi-inspirational saying you may find at the bottom of a substitute teacher’s email signature “If you can think it, you can be it!” Fucking shoot me in the retinas. The women always delight in the romance of it all… negligent to remember they are sleeping in BUNKBEDS all trying to pork the same dude. Love lifts us up where we belong… on the top bunk.

Lauren B and Ben take flight and all I can focus on is that Ben is wearing a bracelet with a metal plate that says “HOPE”… and there goes my lady boner. They park their little jet plane in a super rapey deserted land plot where conveniently an above ground Jacuzzi is waiting for them so Ben can see if Lauren B is an 7 or 8 based on her bikini bod.

Back at the mansion, pretty but overly emotional half-Asian Caila sheds a tear over how hard it is to imagine him on another one on one date. Dear Caila, this is the fucking Bachelor. Stop crying and have a mimosa.

At dinner, Lauren B proclaims she only “likes really simple things”. I appreciate her game strategy and suggest all woman take notes. Being yourself is wonderful. But being full of shit is better. She goes on and on about how much she loves her dad and basically wants to bone him despite paternity. They swap stories of their cookie-cutter, Pastor guided, functional familied lives and bitch gets her rose. And just when things couldn’t get any better, ANOTHER COMPLETELY UNKNOWN MUSICAL ACT!

The group date card arrives and FINALLY Lace gets some screen time while she sits on the end of the coach gnawing at her nails twitching. The ladies are forced to compete for time with Ben which I LOVE because nothing screams girl power more than a bunch of woman pitted against eachother over a ball. That metaphor is not lost on me.

Jubilee is scared Ben doesn’t like black girls and to cover ABC’s ass explains that she is “complicated” and “not his type” so she is concerned. Little does she know Ben appears to be down for the swirl. Get it Jubs!

Queen Lace and Low Budge Mary-Kate are the goalies and something about watching them face dive puts a little spring in my step. “Balls flying at your face is never fun. But if I have to hurt myself, I’ll hurt myself.” Um same. For a moment I was SURE Olivia was going to Tanya Harding the injured girl. The losers cry and go back to the asylum, I mean the mansion.

Olivia is straight up Glenn Close. I hope Ben does not have a bunny. After Glenn steals Ben away to discreetly snip a lock of his hair, the bitches downstairs start talking about her toes and bad breath. Regardless if this is true, she is still significantly better looking than most of you so… have some perspective. “Perfection is so lame.”

Jubilee scores the next one on one date and offends the girls for calling Ben out on being late and saying shes not that excited for their date. Team fucking Jubilee. Also, did a producer slip Lace some sedatives? What the fucking fuck? Jubilee is NOT down with the caviar but very into hot dogs… I like your innuendos boo. Homegirl gets the rose and I am thrilled.

My absolute favorite moment happens at the rose ceremony when Ben somberly tells the ladies that he lost family friends in a plane crash and 2.4 seconds later Olivia consoles Ben by sharing some of her internal struggles… living with cankles. She tries to stay strong but her ankle radius is the real tragedy of the day. Like sorry about your dead friends but like I CAN NEVER WEAR AN ANKLET.

These bitches get their polyblend panties in a bunch when they see Jubilee giving a Ben a massage when she already has a rose. THIS IS A FUCKING COMPETITION YOU DUMBFUCKS, why would she forego time to expedite another girls relationship with Ben? Fuck off Amber. You are acting like an insecure petty asshole.

Then something truly terrible happens… Lace resurrects and says “Bahn… can I talk to yuh?” In her most mentally stable moments yet, Lady Lace explains that she needs to go home and work on herself. Like her tattoo says “You can’t love someone else, unless you truly love yourself.” And she says she doesn’t love herself which absolutely slaughters me because I LOVE HER ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US. LACE, DON’T GO, DON’T LEAVE ME. LIVE, LAUGH, LACE. So now, I need to go take a bath with my blowdryer because I have no reason to live.

Shushanna and Jami (both of whom I could give a fuck about) leave and I am still in a post-Lace coma. Please respect my privacy during this time of need. Because you know I’m all about that Lace, bout that Lace.

 

The Bachelor Recap

Not to seem vapid and lacking any real or impactful hobbies and dreams, but reality television has a very special place in my heart. I know some of you reading this (but like, why the fuck are you reading this?) are rolling your eyes and turning your noses at the previous statement. Reality television is just garbage, unintellectual and for stupid brainless millenials to you. Go fuck a composter or your vegan leather journal made by Indonesian orphans you pretentious hipster fuckhead. Reality television is escapism and keeps my seratonin levels sky highs sans medication.

Reality television is ruining society, it’s people who were never taught the gift of judgement and can’t differentiate between observing others mistakes via television for entertainment value instead of making the mistakes on your own. Who’s intellectual now? The Bachelor for me is not only a sad 2 hour marathon of updos and sad pageant wear gone wrong, but also a real behind the curtain look at female sociology.

Here we have 208 women in a balls deep COMPETITION for a husband. The whole thing is a real mind fuck when you break it down. So you are supposed to be “authentic” while living in a mansion that’s not yours, wearing a gown selected by a wardrobe stylist, going on dates you cannot afford and have zero say in your impending marital bliss. It’s un-fucking-believable.

I can’t decide whether I have more respect for the girls who are actually there solely to find love (semi pathetic) or the one’s who are there solely to make it far enough where they can land a correspondent job on Access Hollywood and try and fuck Chris Harrison. Probably the latter.

The best part of the show are the awkward limo entrances, the bullshit job titles (fucking CHICKEN ENTHUSIAST? I love kabob but can’t put that shit on Linkedin..) and the crying confessionals. Lace is an American hero. She looks like Fiona (Parker Posey) in Josie & The Pussycats after she just poured a warm buttery chardonnay in every orifice of her body and I like it. I also really enjoyed the solemn firecrotch castaway… I hope she gets an SPF 115 endorsement deal. I also like that Rachel kept it 100 and declared herself “unemployed”. I tend to root for the girls who drink the most or are the prettiest. I am not saying that’s right, but it’s the fucking truth.

Now for the ladies I want to drown in the mansion infinity pool. Mandi (with an i) and that fucking rose on her head, needs to get punched in the vagina. When she offered Ben the opportunity to “pollenate” her I considered transitioning genders. Haley & Emily aka Dumb & Fucking Dumber are actually the worst. They are from Las Vegas (shocker) and come as some type of sister wive package deal. Their job title is “Twins”. When they said “how can you beat this?” I jotted down some ways…

  1. Have a brain.
  2. Be someone not trying to fuck the same dude as your sister.
  3. Don’t wear jewelry from fucking Icing.
  4. Or dresses from JC Penney Prom section.
  5. Have a brain?

Stock your fridge with champagne because it’s Bachelor season, the REAL happiest time of the year.

 

 

Bachelorette Recap

If you are emotionally invested in The Bachelorette you must listen to this weeks podcast. I must warn you this is NOT for the easily offended, listen and share with your bitches if you also think Nick’s sweatervest collection is super rapey and Shaun ONLY looks like Ryan Gosling if he had a touch of the downs and only shopped the clearance aisle at Urban Outfitters… Sorry!

Bachelorette Recap: Slut Shaming Edition

One of the many reasons I find solace and guidance whilst watching The Bachelorette is because it sheds light on many serious issues plaguing our country; racism, sexism, questionable body art, rapey menswear (I am talking to you Nick) and slut shaming. I have never been a bitch to shame a slut. In fact, I love sluts. They are like human party favors, everyone should have a slutty friend you can bring to a co-ed party. It’s just polite.

Last night Kaitlyn let her elbow tattoos guide her to penetration town with Nick and consequently got slut shamed by the media and the non-penetrating bachelors. I can’t even begin to tell you how OVER everyone’s grievances towards fill in the blank shaming I am. Body shaming, slut shaming, race shaming, status shaming, gender shaming. Everyone needs to grow the fuck up and just be grateful people even care enough to talk shit about you.

I love that Kaitlyn porked that curly headed little fuck. It makes for amazing television and if you can go out to a West LA bar, have one too many strawberry daiquiris and wake up with your landlord, why the hell can’t Kaitlyn get intimate with a guy she may end up engaged to? It’s hard for me to defend her because she spoiled the winner via snapchat and her outfits are really bothering me but I digress.

I am not someone that gets offended by the terms slut, hoe, hooker, whore or any other term that insinuates I may be a prostitute. Mainly because I have yet to become a prostitute but the day is young bitches. What worries me is how that troll Nick was the first guy to get laid? I bet he looks like a flashy worm in the buff and that gentile jew-do just does nothing for him. Never trust a guy in an ironic bowtie.

The moral of this story is to stay slutty. Don’t let anyone or any stint of Chlamydia keep you from doing you girl. Stay strong Kaitlyn, I hope you and your tattooed elbows fly off into the sunset, trojans in tow. And just remember: slut shaming is only done by people who don’t have the opportunity to be sluts. Think about it.

WHAT THE FUCK KAITLYN?

Don’t worry there are NO SPOILERS IN THIS POST because I am not a heartless monster. This is really hard for me to write considering I am too afraid to utilize Google and get the full story. I am in a fragile emotional state and haven’t been this veklempt since Jake Pavelka’s proposal to Vienna.

Anyone who knows me, knows that my main reason for waking up each day and striving for lavish mediocrity is solely for the right to watch subpar reality television. In particular, any Bravo franchise and The Bachelor/Bachelorette. I have been faithful and loyal to these programs since I was practically a fetus. I don’t watch the news, keep up with any international affairs, keep oblivious views politically and still am entirely unsure if Hawaii is apart of the United States. That shit is too real, give me vapid programming, my soul NEEDS it.

It came to my attention today that Kaitlyn accidentally snapchatted a picture of her with the alleged winner of The Bachelorette. This is basically the equivalent of shooting my entire family and then robbing me of their life insurance policies so I would be forced to prostitute myself to pay for funeral arrangements. Has she NO consideration for the extreme emotional involvement I have for her journey to find love? Has she NO appreciation for my weekly evaluations of which guys like it up the ass and which ones are simply there for free booze and to live somewhere other then their mother’s house? Has she NO brain capacity to understand the life threatening consequences for her actions?

If I was ever on the precipice of a Lexapro prescription, this would push me over the edge. In fact, I am currently writing this out on my balcony and if I saw a red rose on a silver tray or heard Chris Harrison’s voice I may jump to end my own death.

Besides all of THIS, I know have to spend the next 2 months executing top notch self control to preserve my innocence and NOT FIGURE OUT WHO FUCKING WINS. I would also like to use this post as a for warning that if you even ALLUDE to the mystery man in this snapchat photo I will call Kupa and send him over to your house to beat the shit out of you.

Kaitlyn, I will never forgive you for this. Or your weird elbow tattoos. Or keeping JJ around. Or your rapping skills.

Sincerely,

Jackie

Bachelorette Recap

So after everyone acknowledges JJ and Clint are back door lovers, Kaitlyn pulls Clint aside and gives his vest-wearing ass the boot. I will say it once, I will say it again – never trust a bitch in a vest. Unless they are making your dirty martinis or are a fucking vampire in hiding. It always amuses me how emotional the Bachelorettes get after like 1.3 days of knowing the guys. Boohoo. When Clint gets cut, JJ goes flaccid and then demands an apology from Clint. What a butt chinned biatch. On the real, their sexual tension is OFF THE CHARTS. Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey got NOTHING on that chemistry. WHY THE FUCK IS JJ CRYING AND WHY DO I WANT TO KICK HIM IN THE THROAT SO BADLY?

The gang heads to New York to find love in the big apple. How adorable. Doug E. Fresh joins the group date and all the white midwestern guys pretend to be huge fans. Super cultural! The rap battle is the most depressing and Arian shit of all time, but lingering in the crowds is virgin Ashley (who looks hott) and creeper Nick. Conveniently, he decides to rear his Jew curl frizzed head once filming starts so he can further delay being a real man with a real career. THIRSTY.

Jared scores the one on one date and he is #STOKED. I am still judging him for wearing bright yellow converse and homeboy needs a Crest white strip in a jiffy but he’s cute in a gerbil-esque way.

ABC busts out a really ominous strange montage of dramatic NYC scenery while we hear a phone call between Kaitlyn and Nick and she still can’t make up her fucking mind. Then Kaitlyn does what any other gal dating 65 guys on national television would do, invites her side bitch to meet only after getting her weave worked by that psychopath Ashley. I am over all these cameos. If the network is looking to spice up the show cant they just hire a transgender Bachelorette? Or shoot the season from a psych ward?

Nick, hot tip: when deciding your romantic fate, don’t dress up like Mr. Rogers in a rapey maroon cardigan. Lucky for him, Kaitlyn lets him and his offensive outerwear stay and join the other guys at the hotel.

Jared is really living up to his Restaurant Manager job title in that tux. Back at the hotel, the rest of the guys bitch about the situation and all I can focus on is Ian’s hair growth situation… Jared busts out a poem Shel Silverstein would shoot himself in the asshole for. Then they get in a helicopter and blah blah blah.

For the group date, Kaitlyn makes the guys audition for a Broadway play and we all learn the dentist is a homosexual, hence the light washed denim. Chris wins the one on one date and I learn in this episode that this Cupcake boy bugs the fuck out of me. They climb up to the New Years Eve ball and he squeals with glee over seeing a big shiny ball in the flesh. Chris loves Broadway and balls. Think about it. Broadway. Balls.

Nick moves in and the rest is to be continued…

Monday Night TV Recap

Real Housewives of Beverly Hills

Joyce (Jacqueline) really can annoy the fuck out of me “ay dios mio!” but I think she is genuinely a nice person, not that it particularly matters to me. Kim’s Spanish is perfection. Yolanda has a seriously hot body.  Kyle is probably shitting herself at the chance to wear one of her 56,000 caftans in the appropriate situation. Lisa is petrified to be sharing a bathroom with her husband and claims her hotel lavatory is the same size as Giggy’s bathroom.   Brandi needs to grow the fuck up and stop acting like an 8 year old bitch. So Lisa isn’t calling you every morning? Boo fucking hoo. If it walks like a victim, talks like a victim and cries like a victim… It’s a fucking victim. Bottom Line – Get OVER yourselves.

The Bachelor Part One

I am just going to come out and say it … Juan Pablo sucks ass. What he lacks in basic English he definitely makes up for in Latin douche – ness. He blames his apparent lack of intelligence to the premise that “English is his second language” he was born in fucking New York. He did grow up in Venezuela but he has been here for enough time to not sound like such a dumb fuck in Spanglish. This has nothing to do with a language barrier, he is basically one chromosome away from being mentally challenged. Also let it be forever noted any man that prefers to be addressed by two names is a next level red flag. Bitch puh-lease.

So it’s home date time. Yay (that was sarcastic). First Juan heads to Kansas City to meet Nikki and her family. She takes him to a seriously rapey looking BBQ joint and he nearly gets a boner after trying his first rib under fluorescent lighting. Romantic! They awkwardly ride the bull together and when Nikki’s father asks if she could see him as her husband she responds , “He makes me feel really comfortable. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just awesome. Like magical I feel really really good about it” Somebody call Vera Wang – this bitch is totally ready to get hitched! Are you fucking kidding me? This sounds like the same response I would give when someone asked me how I feel about my gynecologist or manicurist. Not my potential husband.

Next Juan Pablo heads to Atlanta to meet Andi. If Andi isn’t a total shoe-in for the next Bachelorette I am going to go to ABC headquarters and fuck shit up. I would like to think their date at the shooting range was amazing foreshadowing. It was refreshing to meet a family that wasn’t blindly supportive of this short bus escapee who could end up being their son in law. Andi’s dad grilled Juan Pablo and basically told him as of now he would not grant him permission to ask for Andi’s hand in marriage. Anytime her father would ask a tough question Juan did what he does best and bring up fucking Camila. Stop whoring your fatherhood to avoid intellectual conversation. You are on a reality show shtuping multiple women, not battling on the front lines of Afghanistan. Stop trying to portray yourself as some single parent hero. You fucking retard. Sorry – a little harsh but it felt good to get that off my chest. The only reason Andi’s mom approves is because she clearly would be down to bang him.

Speaking of single parenthood, the next hometown date took JP to Sarasota to meet Renee and her rose-insurance aka her son Ben. Not going to lie, I cried a little when Renee reunited with Ben. Maybe I was just crying because Juan Pablo was still wearing what appeared to be a Livestrong bracelet but I digress. What a sweet little boy, Renee is really genuine with a huge side dish of delusion. They watch him play baseball and it’s super pathetic to watch because anyone with 3 brain cells know she is not making it to the final 3.

Last but not least we head to Sacramento to visit Clare-bear and her DVD. They meet in a rose garden because it is super sentimental to her. She explains that every day she would get home from school, do her homework, then her dad would take her to get ice cream and go to that very park and feed the ducks. Not to sound like a black hearted bitch but I am going to call bullshit on that one. Clearly the only one’s eating ice cream daily are Clare’s sasquatch sisters. And also by the time she got home, did homework and got ice cream it would be dark. And you can’t feed ducks in the fucking dark Clare. DURRR. Clare takes Juan to meet her mother and sisters. Clearly Clare’s mom had hoe’s in different area codes because none of her children look mildly related. There is some BS drama with her sister and we all know it doesn’t matter cause Renee is going home.

If I have to hear “Will you assept dis rose?” one more time I am going to shank myself. Someone get this ding ding a dialect coach.

UGH. My head and fingers hurt, Part Duex will be published tonight…