Wait... there's only one vote?!?! We don't get a say in this calamity? After all the Monday nights and clever insults we've forsaken, the hours of Photoshop genius, and THIS is how it ends?
As if from the fiery pits of hell emerged a lone transvestite to sweep one sniveling commercial pilot off his feet, so it was in the final chapter of The Bachelor: On The Wings of Love. As inadequate a stag as there ever were, Jake Pavelka, lowered to one knee and proposed marriage to Vincent "Vienna" Girardi on national television last night, inducing the collective dry heave heard round the world.
Congratulations, you are officially the douchiest douche that EVER douched!
After months of chagrin, slowly and painfully banishing 24 women from The Bachelor Estate, 24 women that wouldn't look twice at your stupid ass if you weren't on TV, 24 women that out-hot you by a factor of 10... (I'm even lumping Jessie in there), you have made the WORST possible decision conceivable.
And because you are saving your purity for your wedding night, and therefore might not catch a pre-marital glimpse of your gal's bologna pony, I feel it my duty to inform you that YOU CHOSE A DUDE.
You are an asstard,
You irritate the shit out of me. That is not the way your voice really sounds. You know it, I know it, the whole of this great country knows it. All the cutesy Disney princess shit that oozes from your pores is kryptonite to me.
I never, and I mean EVER, fathomed a situation where I would be rooting for you. And yet, as I sat watching, mouth agape, as you exited the helicopter first, there was an apocalyptic smell in the air. This could only have meant one of two things: Jake had lost his damn mind, or the end of the world was upon us... Turns out, both were true.
The only solace I can provide you in this time of utter confusion and disbelief is this... I'm fairly certain you and Jake are related. So kudos on avoiding a life of incestuous cuddling and chromosomally challenged offspring. You dodged a bullet, my friend.
Now go blow glitter out yo' ass,
I can call you Vincent, right? I feel like I've earned at least that.
Week after week, I was forced to stomach your bullshit antics and your atrocious weave. The false-faced charade of femininity. The web of lies you entangled yourself in. Often humbled by the grace the other women exerted by squashing their palpable urge to kick your ass back to the swamp. Occasionally pleased that your new fiance was dense enough to offer you rose after cursed rose, presenting me something to blog about the next day on a shiny little platter.
I officially got nervous about three weeks ago... when you made the final four... hoping against hope that there was some sort of mistake, that Jake was not the incredible ignoramus I had originally pegged him for. My darkest fears were confirmed last night... Jake was everything I had made him out to be, and oh, so much more...
And then, an epiphany.
You're engaged to Jake Pavelka...
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha (labored breath) hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha (single tear)
You both lose.
Oh, and please tell your dad that giving his own daughter a promise ring is not even a little bit appropriate.
PS- You're a huge bitch.
Buckle up, hooker, you're next.
4 weeks ago