Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Bachelor Chris Episode 3: Come Roll My Cob


Amazing Count 69
Journey Count 16

Hello, Readers.  Welcome to week three of The Bachelor.  Prince Farming continues to sow his oats (or corn) in preparation for the big harvest.  It’s also apparent that loves to lose his shirt in the process.  That’s fine if  he's in shape but not if he looks like this:


WHOOOOO, LIVES IN A MANSION UNDER THE SEA?



The only person more annoyed than me this week was Harrison who stood there barely masking his impatience with the always condescending Jimmy Kimmel as Kimmel took to mocking Harrison’s hosting duties in addition to dropping every predictable sexual innuendo any of us could have written up and placed in his unoriginal “Amazing Jar” before the show.  He even offered to sleep with all of the women and report back to Chris.  That’s the worst bomb he’s laid since Sarah Silverman.   

Kimmel is no Me.  

Let me just get the Kimmel stuff out of the way before it also ruins my recap.  My opinion of Jimmy Kimmel was reinforced last night.  I’ve always seen him as a condescending know-it-all who doesn’t know when a good joke ends.  

He had some good one-liners last night, but he also came across as crass and cliché . . . and far more svelte than our Bachelor.  In his defense, I think he is a legitimate fan of the show.  I just don’t think he belongs on it.  I’m glad that little experiment is over.  I’m sure Harrison is too.  

Let’s recap, shall we?

Harrison feigns excitement and introduces Jimmy Kimmel to the ladies after Jimmy makes a “surprise” wake up call at Chris’s repurposed wood cabin.  Dressed like Jason Statham in The Transporter—now there’s a guy, even to an avowed heterosexual like me, who looks great with his shirt off—Jimmy proceeds to overtly sexually harass the women as they giggle ignorantly like a bunch of school girls.   So much for “taking this seriously.”  Becca drops “super awesome” and Kimmel drops the Date Card. 

“Dear Kaitlyn, you and Chris are about to join an exclusive club . . . “.  Speculation abounds in between everyone except the camera crew dropping “Jimmy Kimmel” into their sentences.

Kaitlyn and Chris hop a limo to Costco after some champagne and they discuss how refreshing it is to have a “normal” day.  Normal.  Right.  I take my limo to Costco all the time.  Please.  Whose chauffeur doesn't know that Sam's Club has better parking and deeper discounts than Costco?  Don't "normal" me, hayseed.      
 
ABC apparently had some promotional favors to deliver on this episode.  I suppose going to Costco beats donning a helmet with a GoPro mounted to it in order to film our contestants being unwittingly forced into addressing their deepest childhood fear or recreating the feat that killed a loved one.  Remember when Jake cried like a p*ssy when he had to bungee jump or when they made Emily jump on a private jet before driving around a NASCAR track?   

Kaitlyn has a flannel Brawny Man paper towel shirt thrown over her little sister’s tube top.  I found it odd that she wore it the entire show but upon further inspection, it was clear that she couldn’t get it off.  Maybe it was a subtle hint at the farmer's tan look in an attempt to attract Chris.  That shirt was so small Jillian couldn’t have worn it for shorts. 

Chris pretends like he’s having fun after Fleiss threatens several of the Hispanic Costco shelf stockers with a call to Immigration and Naturalization unless they enlist their children to push Chris and Kaitlyn around in a blue, giant, rubber ball.  I found that odd.  I’d imagine when Kaitlyn is mentioned in the same sentence as the words Rubber and Ball that the word Blue isn’t even close to it. 

I know, I know.  I’m a hypocrite because that’s something that Kimmel would say.  The difference is that he would say it directly to Kaitlyn’s face in front of millions of viewers.  At least I have the decency to keep it anonymous and online. 

It’s usually at this point in the season that the “Metaphor Date” occurs.  I was waiting for them to squeeze out of that ball head-first and compare it to their relationship being born.  Then I realized that if they did that one of them would have to be the metaphoric after birth and that just wouldn't be a good metaphor.  They head home to grill some steaks.  

Kaitlyn and Chris enjoy a glass of bourbon as they both pretend to enjoy the taste of bourbon.  The word “crazy” gets dropped 100 times as does the word “normal.”  Look, Ashley S. may be able to put those two words together but for the rest of us it’s either crazy or normal.  It can’t be both.  And since when is sitting around a repurposed cabin grilling steaks “crazy”?

Jimmy arrives for dinner and proceeds to ask a bunch of inappropriate questions about Chris sleeping with all of the women in the Fantasy Suite.  Fake laughter abounds as Chris sweats into his whiskey glass.  Kaitlyn virtually guaranteed herself a spot by letting Jimmy know that Chris has a couple free passes if she makes it that far.  She appeared to mean it too. 

I don’t know if that was the whiskey talking or if she knew what he was trying to do.  Regardless, she proved herself to be the best sport in the house.  She earned the Date Rose.  Can you imagine if one of the Ashleys had been on that date?  Kimmel would be picking a pieces of a smashed Waterford whiskey glass out of his skull or he’d have been eye-lashed to death.   

What do you mean, sleep with other women?  

Ashley S. was noticeably quiet this week.  It's incredible what a difference a Xanex, a Lexapro, a Valium, and abstaining from chardonnay makes.  Like our friend Alex in that picture above, she'll be back, I'm afraid.   

Group Date Card.


Becca reads it.  I still think she’s hot, but she’s come across as a bit boring.  More about her later. 

Britt, Jillian, Becca, Trina, Kelsie, Amber, Ashley S., Juelia, Samantha, Nikki, Carly, Tracy.  “Are you ready to meet some real party animals?”

Sigh.  Jillian works out.  Mystery solved.  The reason why she wears so little material around her Hoo-Ha is because she needed the extra luggage space for all of her workout equipment.  Man, I’ve tried to be nice, but she needs a talking to.  The issue clearly goes beyond a hatchet job in the editing booth.  

Kelsie drops “child-sized shorts” on Jillian and I laughed before realizing that there was no other viable way to describe them.  She’s like that old French guy in the Speedo bathing suit that wanders too close to your blanket at the beach.      



By the way, I pray that I'm just like that guy when I reach his age.  Props to him on the matching socks too.  They really tie the outfit together.  


The girls show up for the “Hoedown Throwdown” which consists of being sexually propositioned by Jimmy Kimmel before corn shucking, egg hunting, goat milking, manure shoveling, and pig wrestling.  Honestly, the entire thing is a metaphor for courtship in the Midwest minus a trip to Dairy Queen.   

Carly is apparently allergic to goat milk.   I guess “Goat Milk” was one of the things on the scratch test she took as a child when she went to the allergist.  How else to you find that out?  Her goat milking demonstration was interesting, however. 

Amber drops “salty and warm and not something I like in my mouth” before also referring to the goat milk as “protein.”  Subtle.  They can let that air but can’t show Jillian’s (allegedly) hairy butt cheeks?  Come on.  Selective enforcement of any rule hollows out the rule.    

Carly wins the big race despite Jillian and her (allegedly) hairy ass trying to muscle her out of the pig wrasslin’ contest.  Carly gets a meaningless ribbon from Jimmy Kimmel, and an  American Gothic photo shoot that mocks the farmer and everyone who is not an annoying talk show host from Los Angeles.  Humiliating.      

Cocktail party. 

I’ll cut this one short.  He had his tongue down everyone’s throat but Harrison’s and Mackenzie showed her age by complaining about it.  He kissed more girls than Jillian did arm curls with her rubber band handle thing this week.  He handled the “why are you kissing everyone else too” inquiry like thrown feces from a chimp at the zoo. 

Why is he kissing everyone?  Because he’s The Bachelor, b*tch, and that’s what The Bachelor does.  That’s like asking Piers Morgan why he’s an a-hole or Little Ricki Hendrix why she’s so darn adorable.  Certain things just “are,” Mackenzie.  Granted, you were in 4th grade last season, but do your research.  Your kid must nap a few times a day.   Use the time wisely.    

Mackenzie sufficiently stirs the pot enough to make all of the other rabid chimpanzees upset about the kissing and the telling.  Watching that was like reading The Origin of Species in reverse.

Why is he kissing all of us?  Throw feces at him.
Becca gets the most creative award by leading with her statement necklace instead of her tongue and choosing a memorable chat instead of a sucked face.  She seemed cool, albeit dull, but had quality time.  I still like her down the road, but she might go the same route as the hot teacher.  She got the date rose and didn’t contract mono in the process.  Nice work, Becca. 

Knock Knock. 

“Dear Whitney,  Today is going to be fun…No Whining.” 

To say that this season’s date cards lack the panache of past seasons is like saying Jillian’s shorts lack material.  Either Chris can’t be funny or the ABC intern with the Associates Degree in English Literature from Tallahassee State Junior College in charge of punning them up left for greener pastures.     

Whitney dons a statement necklace and denim vest.  I’ve said this before, she is NOT my type.  I find her stiff and unattractive.  If she was a piece of furniture she’d be the particle board book shelf with the cardboard back I got at Michael's and had all through college. 

Chris introduces us to the Iowa colloquialism “roll the cob,” which apparently means she can fake like she’s adventurous.  I’ll spare you the pain of reliving the fake “wedding crash.”  They should make a movie about two people who crash a wedding . . . oh wait. 

We find out that Whitney keeps her “bouquet stats” and is apparently uninteresting enough to blend into a crowd of strangers.  Run, Chris.  She jumped for that bouquet like Dennis Rodman in the NBA finals.  There’s nothing spontaneous about her.  Pack up your cob and get out of there while you still can.  

We assume ABC paid the caterer the $178 per person cost of the reception plus the open bar fee and 9 bucks for the rose Chris stole from the floral arrangement.  She got the Date Rose.  She’ll be very confused when she’s sent home.   Denial will flow like a river in Egypt. 

Pool Party. 

That apparently means everyone has to retreat to a corner of the mansion to cake on eye makeup before Chris arrives to “impress” them with his cannonballs.   He jumped in the pool and made a splash too. 

Ashley I. laments the fact that she couldn’t do her “Kardashian look”.  Whatever.  It’s almost impossible to not get me started on the Kardashian family once I hear the name.  Let me limit my vitriol to a sentence or two.  First, the whole family makes me sick.  Poor Bruce Jenner.  No wonder he just wants to be left alone to become a woman.  There is not a more vapid bunch of narcissistic, talentless, attention-seeking hacks than that family.  Ashley I. would do better to work on her own identity and stop trying to emulate a family who biggest contribution to our culture is the size of its asses.  They’re basically the Zsa Zsa Gabors and Pia Zadoras of the 21st Century . . . with less to offer.  Moving on.  

Samantha the screen filler and Juelia chat.  Samantha is really pretty, but like the hot teacher, has said all of two words between “of course I wills” this season.  Juelia interrupts the pool party to drop the inevitable suicide chat on Chris.  Look, that’s awful but man, was that a buzz kill.  Also, why should she have to relive that on air?  Uncool . . . all 45 minutes of it. 

Speaking of buzz kills, why doesn’t Chris doesn’t get any Suave commercials like Des did?  Seems a bit sexist to me if you ask.  Even Juan Pablo mixed in a spot or two and that guy can’t even speak English.    

Britt and her messy bun check in for a make out session with a shirtless Chris.    You know, for good measure.  She’s holding it together fairly well, but the cracks are showing.   

Jade.  It’s not time for an SGIA “I told you so” yet, but we got a little closer this week, didn’t we?  Frankly, she was a lot dirtier than I’d pegged her, but I’ll chalk that up to the “test the bed” instruction she and Chris undoubtedly received off camera. 

Her big pick up line?  “We’re all curious about your place.  I haven’t seen your place.”  Place apparently means Genitals in this scenario and We apparently means me and my boobs.  She takes him away in her bikini, coverup, and off white Stilettos.  Note to women:  Nice dudes don’t like giant heels with a swimsuit.  You’re not filming a rap video and you’re not auditioning for the Rockettes.  And Jillian, listen up.  This applies to your shorts too. 

Stilettos and a bikini is the equivalent to a dude showing up in a silk shirt unbuttoned to expose his giant gold medallion and hairy chest.  Subtlety is hotter than a blatant advertisement.  Tasteful trumps tacky every day of the week.  

Ironically, that’s one reason I liked Jade in the first place.  She was confident but not aggressive and she wore a minimal amount of makeup.  Painting yourself up like an Indian going into battle may work in LA or New Jersey but it doesn’t work in Iowa.  More often than not, less is more.  If you want me to hear what you're saying, don't distract me with giant fake eyelashes or shorts tiny enough to double as a belt.  

Poor Jillian is forced to wait in his hot tub as Jade perfectly plays the shy and unassuming card in Chris’s repurposed cabin. Porno music inside, crickets outside.  I’ll give the producers credit for the editing.  Solid work.  I thought they were setting poor Jillian up for some much-needed character rehabilitation in light of the ubiquitous black box around her Hoo-Ha over the last two weeks.  Perhaps they were, but she ruined it.    

Jillian, put down your guard for a second and listen to me.  I mean you well. 

Butchy, aggressive mannerisms, in-your-face comments, and blatant territorial behavior are not attractive to men.  We get it all the time . . . from other men.  Men don’t always have to win and we don’t ever feel the need to compete with a woman physically.  We will also notice a beautiful body even if it’s not fully on display.  That’s how we’re wired.  You don’t need to show the ants where the sugar is.  They find it anyway.  Put a lid that fits on your sugar caddy. 

Also, it’s possible to be athletic, assertive, confident, and attractive without reminding us that you’re athletic, assertive, confident, and attractive.  In fact, we prefer it that way.  And yes, it’s also possible to be feminine without being girly.  Knock off the Crossfit act (or get over it), buy some pants that fit, and BE YOURSELF.   Lecture over.

Ashley I. gets upset.   “It’s a good thing her hymen is in tact,” I said to Mrs. SGIA.  She laughed, but would never admit that she did.  Chris lost another shirt and Ashley I. just about cried herself out of a Rose before almost plunging to her death by making another very odd kissing move.  Must be a virgin thing.    

Rose Ceremony.

1.              Kaitlyn (solid, but still the "funny girl")
2.              Becca (top 3 but losing me.  she had a good week)
3.              Jade (top 3 and gaining steam)
4.              Samantha (still a mystery)
5.              Juelia (he couldn't dump her after that story)
6.              Mackenzie (way too young.  Gone soon)
7.              Kelsie (she'll get a date but will go home soon)
8.              Britt (in a holding pattern.)
9.              Megan (as dumb as she is lucky to still be around)
10.            Carly (solid week.  good personality)
11.            Ashley S. (she needed an off week)
12.            Nikki (another innocuous mute.  it's working)
13.            Jillian (I'm rooting for you.  Rally.)
14.            Ashley I. (nut job.)

Gone Girl.

Tracy—I’m bummed out.  Would have like to have seen some personality.  I thought she was one of the prettiest.  She kept her reputation in tact, though.  That’s best thing for a 4th grade teacher. 

Amber—meh.  She was nice.

Trina—She’s basically Whitney with worse hair and darker roots.  

Well, there it is.  We’re Kimmel-less next week and I couldn’t be happier about that.  We're also getting down to eliminations of some of the not-so-obvious ones, but we still have enough breathing room for a week or so.  It will be nice to see an unencumbered Harrison back at full strength next week as well.  Take care of yourselves.  In the meantime, if you need me I’ll be making out with everyone I see while looking for my shirt.  DP
















 





Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Bachelor Chris Episode 2: Corn Liquor and the Corn Farmer


Hello, Readers.  Wow, do we have a lot to discuss.  I’m far past the illusion that anything on this show happens by accident, so I have to start out with a shout out to the ABC intern who cleverly embedded questions in the initial interview questionnaire that would easily identify women with unquenchable appetites for grain alcohol accompanied by a glaring inability to appreciate the consequences of digitally recorded public drunkenness. 

Props are also appropriate to the guy who made those slaphappy women sign the unconscionably one-sided ABC release before they were too drunk to consent to it.  Ladies, when you sober up, Google the word “perpetuity.”    

Jordan is already complaining about it.   



Although there was no shortage of joke material this week there sure as hell was a shortage of pants.  I have to hand it to the Bachelor Production Staff this week.  I can’t figure out which decision was the most brilliant. 

Let’s see, there was the decision to throw caution to the wind by embracing the realization that a bevy of drunk women provides a lot more opportunities for cringe (and TV ratings) inducing coverage than a drunken lone wolf.  Along with that was the decision to open the alcohol flood gates near the three women (Ashley S., Tara, and Jordan) who didn’t have an ark to retreat to once those gates were opened. 

Then there was the decision to relocate our usually sequestered Bachelor from his Fortress of Seclusion and place him within stumbling slut distance of the 23 women vying for his attention.  As if that wasn’t tempting enough, they sent Harrison in with a Cheshire Cat grin on his face to not only tell them about it but actually dare them to sneak over there like N.V.A. Regulars crawling through razor wire. 

Chris is Right Next Door!


They might as well have put the entire bar over on his lawn and fired up a scavenger hunt for a Neil Lane ring on the property. He’s toast.  They’ll be showing up at his door like a bunch of pants-less, drunken, Jehovah’s Witnesses looking for converts on a Sunday afternoon.   



Let’s explore the details, shall we? 

We cut back into the never-ending first Rose Ceremony where Kimberly, the heretofore roseless yoga instructor, walks back in to ask Chris if she can stay.  I found myself laughing into my Lone Star at the simplicity of it all.  It’s difficult to believe that after 19 seasons of this mess it’s never occurred to any of the scorned suitors that the brick wall between them and the self-congratulatory toast going on with the remaining rose bearers doesn’t actually exist.  “Just walk back in,” never occurred to any of them (or us?) until this episode.     

As an aside, I once asked a yoga instructor on a date.  She agreed and I asked her what time she'd like me to pick her up.  She replied, "I'm flexible."   

Annnyyyyhooo  . . . 

My point was driven home when all of the remaining women wonder aloud if “it’s allowed.”  Of course it is, you morons, there are no rules.  All one needs is the inevitable rubber stamp of approval from Our Host, Chris Harrison.

The girls abandon chairs for some reason while Kimberly begs for another chance at getting once again put out of the mansion like a dog with muddy paws.  I’ll give her credit, though.  It was a ballsy move and she didn’t seem too desperate considering the circumstances.  She almost F’d it up when she hit Chris with “what are you thinking?”

Memo to all women:  that interrogatory—what are you thinking?---is like “do these jeans make my ass look big” or “is my sister prettier than me”—men hate it.  Regardless, Chris has Harrison summoned from his quarters after his post-rose ceremony sponge bath to grant dispensation to Kimberly.  Done deal.  Chris drops the awkward news on the ladies.  That party lasted so long Tara had actually begun to sober up.     

Moments later, Chris meets with Harrison over a cup of Earl Grey and an untucked oxford befitting the casual formality of his search for love before Harrison heads up the driveway to tempt the ladies with the first Date Card.  Tara, no doubt, still smelled of whiskey.

Chris takes an outdoor shower so as not to contaminate the mansion.  It was like a scene from Silkwood, for crying out loud.  I was waiting for Cher to run and grab Meryl Streep to go see him.  Why can’t he shower indoors? 

“Show me your Country. Chris.”  Jade, Tandra, Ashey I., Mackenzie, Kimberly, and Tara “win” the  First Group Date. 

Megan is jealous . . . an emotional state that will soon be eclipsed by her abject stupidity and Jillian’s ABC-eclipsed Hoo-Ha. 

Pool Party!  Shocking, but not as shocking as the fact that Tara is still standing.  I’d compare her to an oak but I’d be willing to bet that if an oak tree had as much whiskey as she drank the night before, it would turn into a weeping willow. 

Chicken fights and fake hooters rule the day and we confirm that Cody’s two egg whites and 8 oz. of water per day, slim down diet has clearly not yielded a permanent result on Chris.  In a harbinger of degrading things to come Kimberly gets interviewed in her bikini on a deserted LA street corner.  Odd, I thought. 

For some reason, Jillian and Megan go motorcycle hunting in bikini bottoms.  Well, Megan had on bikini bottoms.  Jillian’s special area was obscured (from all sides) by a carefully placed black box.  At first, I was convinced they were hiding a phallus and that would be the “biggest controversy in Bachelor history” revealed this season.  Imagine a Crying Game climax in the Fantasy Suite.  Would any of us put that past Mike Fleiss at this point?  I doubt that would play well in Iowa.    

Jillian, I had no idea.  

Then, I decided she borrowed a bikini from Britt before I eventually settled on the most popular explanation in the audience:  Jillian didn’t pack her NoNo.  Boy, she had a bad episode, didn’t she?  It wasn't helped by an already drunken Jordan swearing that Jillian had "the hairiest a** she'd ever seen."  Wow.      



For some reason, the women are paraded down a vacant LA street—likely at sunrise—in their bikinis for a tractor race for bragging rights and a chance to sit on Chris’ lap for a while.  Could that have been more degrading?  They might as well have had a sausage eating contest at the finish line. 

It was at that point that I rewound in order to check the spelling of the word “Country” on the “Show Me your Country” Date Card.  If you take the “O” out, the entire show made sense.  Ashley I. wins and simultaneously compares herself to a Kardashian giving me one more reason to dislike her.  Her eyelashes are thicker than her virgin act.   

I thought Tandra looked the best on the group date and it was apparent that Jade had a lot of freckles.  Say what you want about Whiskey Enthusiast Tara, I thought she seemed fun too.  I was dead wrong about Tandra sticking around but I still think Jade will rally.   Hell, if she just keeps quiet along with Tracy the hot school teacher the rest of the drunks will fall like watermelons off a farm truck at the rate we’re headed.  We may have the first Fantasy Dates by default in Bachelor history.    

Meanwhile . . . things get REALLY heavy at the Wo-mansion.  

Juelia tells us that she has a daughter, Ireland, or is it Irueland?  HOWEVER, her husband killed himself.  Good Lord.  Based on the track history of this show, I was praying that they wouldn’t send her somewhere on a date that accentuates her pain—you know, like a farm where she has to shoot the walking dead.  

And someone could have mixed in a hug or a pat on the back, for crying out loud.  Poor thing.  

Tara gives us a third-person account of what drives Tara to drink when she says,  “Tara always walks away empty handed” after Mackenzie snags the date rose and some one-on-one time.  Well, I suppose that’s technically accurate if you don’t count the bottle of whiskey in her left hand and the shot glass in her right.  Poor Tara.  More about her later too.  I actually really liked her.     

Mackenzie gets one on one.  She promptly tells Chris she’s “super, like, observant.”  She’s, like, super uncomfortably awkward but let’s give her a little leeway.  It’s likely her third date ever—including the one night stand in the cabbage patch where her son (and presumably his name) were conceived. 



Mackenzie drops the earth shattering news that she has a ring with the word “Kale” on it.  More importantly, it doesn’t mean she loves a hardy cabbage of a variety that produces erect stems with large leaves and no compact head, it means she has a kid named after hardy cabbage of a variety that produces erect stems with large leaves and no compact head.  The fact that she actually enjoys a hardy cabbage of a variety that produces erect stems with large leaves and no compact head is purely conincidental.  Chris is underwhelmed. 

They “dance” near a Wooden Indian.   If you want to waste more of your employer’s money today, read my post about my near theft of a Wooden Indian.



Ding Dong, date card. 

Megan.  “Love is a natural wonder, Chris”.  Megan doesn’t realize it’s a date card.  It’s apparent from her reaction that it’s natural for Megan to wonder.      

Megan was an odd pick to me.  It had me rethinking my entire Top 5, but it’s early I told myself.  Megan? They fly via private jet to Las Vegas to have a helicopter trip over Grand Canyon.   I had a hard time figuring out what was more vast:  the expanse of the Grand Canyon or the expanse of space between Megan’s ears.  

The irony is that neither one of them used the word “amazing” to describe the Grand Canyon.  And speaking of Grand Canyons, Megan’s FFF custom made first date bra appeared to be under a great deal of tension.

Megan kills the chardonnay buzz with her my dad passed away story.  She tries to save the date with some kind words.  Megan.  She doesn't understand the word "quit."  Then again there's a lot of words Megan probably doesn't understand.  

Let’s recap Chris’ Bachelor experience so far and in the near future, shall we?   

Date one:  I have a kid. 

Date two:  My dad just died. 

Soon-to-be date with Juelia: my husband committed suicide and I have a kid. 

Soon-to-be date with Kelsie:  my husband also died

Good Lord.  The drunks sound more attractive by the minute.  At least you can put a lock on the liquor cabinet.      

Ding dong.  Kelsie, Trina, Allisa, Tracey, Jillian, Becca, Amber, Ashley S., Juelia, Kaitlyn, and Britt  get the second Group Date.   “To Death do Us Part, Chris”.

Paintball Zombie date.  Let’s just cut to the chase here.  Ashley S. was literally out of her mind.  Look, I’d like to poke fun but I found it hard not to wonder if she didn’t legitimately need psychiatric medical attention.  She clearly mixed a lot of booze with whatever meds she takes to kill the pain behind her life choices on a daily basis.  Unlike Jordan and Tara—your run-of-the-mill drunk girls, Ashley S. appeared almost schizophrenic.  Chris looked horrified.

Becca dropped the best gem as Ashley S. scampered off to incoherently babble to Chris.  “I don’t know if talking to him was the best idea.”  Indeed.  That might be the first time I’ve ever felt sorry for the Bachelor. 

It’s Proactive mask time back at the mansion and guess what?  Jordan is hammered.  I think a night out with her and Tara would be fun, but it’s clear that “night out” is tantamount to Groundhog Day for Jordan.  Tara was at least sober enough to stand on the top bleacher this week.  Baby steps, Tara.  Baby steps.  Attagirl.   

Kaitlyn gets some one-on-one.  She’s cool and funny.  However, she seems incapable of being serious, which could become a precursor to the inevitable “I really like Kaitlyn but we're not making progress” scenario that usually gets someone dumped on a catamaran in the tropics before hometowns.  We’ll see.  I like her.  I’m not convinced Chris will mesh his tendency to laugh around her with a genuine physical attraction to her.  The jury is oot and aboot on her. 

She did get a weird kiss and a date rose that she accepted with class and that didn’t bring back-biting commentary and catty comments to the forefront.  I suppose that says a lot about the way the other girls feel about her too. 

Chris and his horribly fitting suit show up for the big cocktail party.  The pants were way too short.  They almost had to put a black box around his ankles.  Perhaps the same person that measured him for his suit also measured Jillian for her bikini bottoms, I thought.  

Lone Star makes me funny.     

Whitney is a mystery to me.  She reminds me of Mandy Peppridge from Animal House.  I can see her at a white-glove Junior League event welcoming some Southern Senator and thanking him for agreeing to speak on such short notice.  She rallied, though.  I thought the whiskey gift (albeit selected by an intern) was thoughtful.  Her voice was annoying but she seemed genuine and looked pretty.  If she can remove the steel rod from her rectum she might stick around a bit.

Mandy Peppridge

Upon hearing from Ashley I. that her hymen is in tact, Mackenzie laments the brief time between her first period and the loss of her virginity.  Convinced that “guys love virgins,” she whines,  “I can’t even use that because I have a kid.” Classic.  It really doesn’t get any better than that.    

Note to the most naïve contestant in Bachelor history:  31 year old guys don’t “love virgins.”  To a 31 year old guy—especially in today’s dating market—“Hot Virgin” equals “Teenager” which equals a potentially small problem known as statutory rape.  Real men don’t date a woman based on her sexual history, or lack therof. 

Granted, men don’t want a woman who has been passed around like the peace pipe in a teepee, but they’d rather have a woman who is self-assured and that respects herself than get the first crack at her in the sack.  The last time I checked CareerBuilder.com most of the job listings required some experience.   The only guys Chris’ age who went around looking for virgins were Mayan kings trying to quell the anger of the Sun God.    

Ashley I. gets some one-on-one time in her Barbara Eden I Dream of Jeannie outfit with her hymen in tact.  She shows Chris a magic lamp belly ring and forces him to rub it for a wish.  Even I hid behind the couch pillow.  As if that wasn’t enough, she proceeds to do her anaconda impression by trying to swallow him head first in their makeout session.  The entire thing was weird.  She needs to get laid.  

I'm a virgin.  Guys love that.  

In an effort to let us know who got zero camera time, ABC gives us a quick tour of the girls with enough sense to stay sober and below the radar this week.  Alissa looked pretty and seemed stable, Amber was consistent, Tracy was still hot, Jade was too, and Trina looked like every stewardess on the final leg of a 4-flight day before she heads from the airport back to her hotel room to remove her blue panty hose and wash down a Valium with a bottle of overpriced and foul-tasting minibar Chablis. 

Jordan was hammered and wanted to make out.  She’s the girl every dude has picked up at a bar at closing time.  She’s good for a taxi cab fondle session on the way back to her apartment before she cries into the toilet while you hold her hair as she vomits out all of the free drinks you bought her.  She embarrassed herself. 

Harrison can’t wipe the smile off his face when he shows up with the ubiquitous champagne glass and butter knife.  He’s seen the raw footage and the raw footage is good. 

Tara behaved nicely.  Granted, it wasn’t hard to stay below the radar this week, but at least she was coherent.

Rose Ceremony.    

1.              Megan
2.              Kaitlyn
3.              Britt
4.              Mackenzie
5.              Ashley I.
6.              Trina
7.              Kelsie
8.              Samantha
9.              Juelia
10.            Amber
11.            Tracy
12.            Jillian
13.           Jade
14.           Nikki
15.           Becca
16.          Carly
17.          Whitney
18.          Ashley S. 

Gone:

Kimberly 0-2 but at least she went out swinging.  I liked her better than I did the first episode.  So did Chris, just not enough to keep her around. 

Tandra—Some Guy was wrong about her.  I think she was hot.  Chris apparently didn’t.

Alissa—Too far below the radar.  She seemed nice but sunk into the background too much to be noticed.  She was sweet and lost with class.  We all know that’s the best anyone can hope for on this show.   Just ask coochie-showing, responding to the wrong name, rug slipping, hairy-assed Jillian.  
 
Buck up, Jillian.  Even Tom Brady has thrown 4 interceptions in one game.  Shake it off . . . and buy some pants.  You'll be fine.  

Tara—Oh, Tara.  Like the Gone with the Wind plantation that bears your name, you went down in flames.  However, like that estate, you’ll rise again to your former glory.  
 
A word about Tara:  I liked her.   She was real and she was genuine.  If any of you weren’t a tad bit moved at her tearful, third-person goodbye, you’re awful people. 

Sure she got hammered on night one, but she clearly has a lot of baggage to deal with.  If she finds the right guy who’s patient enough to be with her until she sobers up and finds a better focus in life than whiskey, she’ll make a good wife.  I’m certain of it.  She looked great in her green dress until the puffy eyes and runny nose came out.   

Well, there it is.  I think we’d all agree that we’re off to one hell of a start so far this season.   With the Journey Count at an early-season high of 14 and the Amazing Count at an incredible 45, we head into Episode 3.   Take care of yourselves this week.  In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be drinking whiskey, pants-less, riding a tractor after a pool party.   DP