Tuesday, August 10, 2010

It's like Jersey Shore... with a budget...




:Casting criteria for Bachelor Pad ~ Season 1:

  • Shameless Slut-tastic Not-For-Profit Hookers (will also accept Man-whore-Rific Douche Rockets) 

  • Delusional Banana-Jamas willing to use black mail as a party favor

  • Borderline Elderly Space Fillers 

  • Chemical Dependents that thrive on using deadly force against competitors 
    • must employ phrases such as, "There is absolutely no reason why we shouldn't just tie him to a tree and kick the shit out of him", or "You started this, bitch, now I'm gonna end it"


And so began the journey I like to call JILL'S REALITY TV WET DREAM!

The rules of the "game" are simple... (Actually, they're not. They're convoluted and nonsensical and a little slap dash, but I throw no stones)
  1. There are two teams: Slut-tastics vs. Man-whore-Rifics
  2. The Sluts vote off the Man-whores and the Man-whores vote off the Sluts
  3. Every week there will be a competition (this week: a nod to the 1970's with a friendly game of Twister... not kidding)
  4. The winner of each week's competition will receive a rose, guaranteeing them immunity from that week's elimination
  5. The rose also allows the winner to host a date with three Sluts or Man-whores of their choosing 
  6. On the date, another rose will be bestowed upon the Slut or Man-whore of the "date host"s choosing, guaranteeing their immunity as well
  7. The Sluts and Man-whores then decide which Slut and which Man-whore will be sent home based on ABSOLUTELY NOTHING... 
  8. The last Slut or Man-whore standing receives $250,000.00
  9. The secondary goal of said competition being a second chance at finding love ala the American Broadcasting Company
From what I'm gathering, the wizards at the helm of these shanagans were just looking for a reason to get all these asstards in the same house with cameras rolling. The "competition" is a beard. And the "second chance at love" after-thought is simply a ruse so that this shit show could slide under the radar as part of their ever successful Reality Dating Franchise. 



I don't know about you, but if I'm gonna claw some bitches eyes out, it's gonna be for a quarter mil, certainly not for the affections of somebody else's third-round-elimination-bottom-of-the-barrel-Bachelorette-reject. But that's just me.

And yet, I am far too shallow to care about any of this. Because what we've stumbled upon here is solid gold.

As episode 1 opened Tenley Molzhan's anti-climactic ass was the first to arrive. A gal that fell in love with Jake Pavelka, who never dareth speak an unkind word, who's voice summons the attention of every K9 within a five mile radius, who meets not-a-one of the criteria listed above... Tenley's entrance did not exactly inspire confidence.



But one by one as the limos arrived and the doors swung open and the dysfunction emerged, you could almost smell the shit storm a' brewin'...


Those responsible for casting this Monday night delicacy, let's call them "American Royalty", got it oh-so-right. Old rivals, jaded one-night stands, cuckoo kachoo stalker types. Somehow they managed to enlist the who's who of WTF...

What came next was standard Bachelor/Bachelorette fare. 

There was the inevitable Meat Market Mingle, where champagne and amateur pick-up lines flow like The Mississippi. And shortly thereafter the hard-earned effects of silicone and steroids were unveiled poolside. Then came the obligatory host introduction, to squelch any concerns that there might be someone out there dedicating two hours of their lives to this fiasco who was NOT already intimately acquainted with Chris Harrison and Melissa Rycroft-Strickland.



We discovered that Michelle has become no less of a terrifying sociopath in the last six months when she cornered Tenley behind a closed bathroom door threatening her within an inch of her life for starting a rumor that she and Craig had hooked up the first night. (Actually not a rumor at all, stone cold fact)


Which then caused Tenley to make this face...



We listened in awe as Elizabeth went on ad nauseum about the pure and unfaltering love that exists between her and Jesse Kovacs, a Jillian-Harris-throw-away who was earlier caught telling his fellow Man-whores that they had "hooked up two or three times, but were in NO WAY in a relationship". We then watched her burst in to tears on more than four occasions whilst discussing how poorly her boyfriend Jesse was treating her. Not to be outdone by the private conversation they had together where he told her he was single, and she responded appropriately by telling him she was in love with him. (You cannot make this shit up. This is 100% authentic crazy.)


And we suffered through the beginnings of what are sure to be history's shortest lived friendships and romances forged between our favorite throw-aways of seasons past.

In the end, Michelle's ability to strike fear in the hearts and sexual organs of men and women everywhere sealed her fate as the first Slut To Get Cut. Oh, but fear not, she had thought ahead and saved a little of her kooky sauce to pour all over her limousine confessional exit interviewer.



And it was an ill-fated, and poorly exited, one-night stand with Mutton Chops Magoo (Nikki) that sent Juan packing. Demonstrating, apparently, that the more you look like you might have a penis thanks to inexplicable and spuratic female facial hair, the more pull you have with the Slut vote. That, and Juan is a huge pansy ass.



Bachelor Pad, you are a star in my sky...

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