The time has come for yet another roll of the dice, in the vain hopes that fate will finally take pity on ABCs calamitous matchmakers and that one of the 25 crazy ass hookers that slept their way past the casting couch, just so happens to be the "soul mate" of Ashley Hebert's sloppy seconds... But if for no other reason than the comfort and security of knowing that there will be someone to clutch tightly (or file a restraining order against) in the midst of that inevitable Mayan apocalypse that is oh-so-hot on our heels.
I'm talkin' about The Bachelor, season... I don't know... 72?
True to form, our friends at America's 3rd Most Watched Network have once again tirelessly scoured every online dating site and Craigslist ad their company firewalls would allow them to open and eventually settled upon what could only be described as, the LEAST DESIRABLE caveman they could find from GEICO's 2004 - Present ad campaign, aka last season's runner up, Ben-There-Done-That Flajnik.
Tell me I'm wrong...
He is so revolting, in fact, that Ashley Hebert, this country's most repulsive birthmark, turned down his marriage proposal... I needn't say more.
But what's done is done. It doesn't do anyone a lick of good for me to wax nostalgic over the days of Andrew Firestone and... ummmm... well... just him...
Enticing Bachelor or no, there are needy bitches to ridicule, and I am equal to the task.
Let me start by saying this... Thank you... but I don't get it.
The English speaking majority has seen, or at least heard of, the calamity that is The Bachelor/Bachelorette franchise. This NEVER ends well. Ryan and Trista are the best we got going, and anyone out there longing for that kind of "happy ending" should be tarred and feathered in the town square.
And CBS can broadcast it... (since they have once again clinched the Most Watched Network on Television title...)(Ooooooo burn! Cap on you, ABC! That stings a little, doesn't it?)
So, why? WHY? Single women, I ask you. Why subject yourselves to this ballyhoo? Why audition to look the damn fool on national television for the manufactured and ill-fated love of a neanderthal? Why?
But also... thank you.
Night one unfolded as it always does, a fractured and masterfully edited glimpse into the lives of the hopefuls. The types of women that pin all their dreams on doomed reality television dating shows, giddy with the notion that soon, if they successfully walk those fine lines between vapid push-over, raging devil-bitch, and slut-bag, they will no longer be seated at the singles table with the rest of the Table 9ers.
Jill's "Ones To Watch"
This bitch lost her shit the moment she stepped out of the limo
- Misquoted CaveBen's "I just got dumped" whine line
- Became certifiably obsessed with the prospect that some pony-tailed potential lesbian might not think she's swell
- Went into the bathroom alone... shut the door for privacy... microphone strapped to her chest... and had a audible schizophrenic break. Money.
I didn't see it coming with this one...
- All but fornicated with another bachelorette, Blakely, in the courtyard of the Bachelor Mansion...
- Solely responsible for Jenna's schizophrenic break (well, her, and the fact that Jenna is bat shit bananas)
- Ponytail + Formal Wear + National TV = Fashion Trailblazing, if ever I've seen it
The elderly are not pawns in your slut-capades!
- Bitch brought her crippled grandma to win points with Ben
- It worked
The off-brand Michelle Money...
- She's a "model"... in Scottsdale, Arizona... Which is to say, some amateur photog took some snapshots of her in his basement and posted them on his blog in exchange for sexual favors and fried chicken... Oh, but she's pretty sure she's the bees knees...
- Hair-flipping is her dangling carrot
- Lip-biting is her Ace-in-the-Hole
It's gonna be one for the books, friends, I can already taste it...