Dear The Bachelorette,
Thank you for reminding me that even though the drama is no doubt more entertaining on a season full of catty gold-diggers with throbbing biological clocks who ‘aren’t here to make friends’, there’s certainly something to be said for a room full of Casual Tuesday dudes wearing a range of hoodies, toques, button downs, or, in the case of some guys, a combination of the three. See also: who knew such a range of chin dimples (aka chinples) could exist???
Which chick types with two fingers and loves seeing the guys all cute and shleppy on Day Two after seeing them in their suited finery at the premiere? This chick right here, that’s who.
So we know from the preview of the event that there would lots of smiles – like huge smiles that somehow make Andi look a bit piggish at the peak of her joy, and there would be tears, but truly I had no idea we were in store for the gift that is (was) Craig. Oy.
Andi’s first official morning as The Bachelorette started off normally. First she pretended to do her own makeup at the mirror (while I tried desperately not to reach onto my TV screen to fix her twisted bra strap.) Then she got ready in what seemed to be an über casual cotton tank for her one on one date with, sigh…Eric.
I wonder if they were trying to make the scene before her date with Eric foreboding by making her walk painfully slow towards the camera. You could almost hear the producers in the background like ‘okay paste that smile, paste it…paste it…now slower, slower….’ So awkward.
Here’s my brief take on Andi so far: While I do like how simple her style is (and I totally dig that she drops the F bomb left, right and center), I sort of miss the perfection that was the wardrobe of Jillian Harris or Emily Maynard. And I’m becoming a bit concerned about the overuse of y’all, and how her accent gets deeper with every episode. But more than y’all, I seem to have developed a bit of a phrase crush on the saying of the day – ‘Stop’, or ‘Stop It’. Yes, she’s already beaten it to death and it’s only episode two, but I can totally see us having a love-hate relationship, much like my tumultuous journey with ‘just sayin’ and its less cool, a bit too enthusiastic sister ‘I know, right???’.
I honestly don’t know how I’m going to get through these episodes with Eric. Nor can I imagine how his family is getting through these episodes. I wonder if they’re watching because it gives them the gift of seeing him alive and happy again, and experiencing love or like or whatever this is, or if it’s too painful and they refuse to tune in. I honestly, don’t know which way I would go. What I do know, is that Eric fucking rocks. Like unless this dude somehow revealed a secret vagina or kisses tongue first, how did she let him go???
I suppose it’s all for the best – can you imagine if he had been the one she chose? And yet, I’m wondering if part of her is sitting here on Monday nights, snuggling on the couch with whomever she chose in the end wondering if it all would have ended differently had she just kept him around….
Of course, how it all goes down will reveal itself over the next bunch of weeks and maybe then we’ll have a better understanding, but for now, all I know about this guy, is that he’s adorable, hot, sweet, kind, chivalrous, interesting, well-travelled, intellectual, open-minded, adventurous, cultured and not good at piano. We also know that (surprise surprise), women have been kind to him wherever he goes, based on his admission that even with all the traveling he’s done, love can be found anywhere. That’s enough to reaffirm that sometimes, life just sucks and everything does not happen for a reason (couldn’t hate that saying more).
Do I even bother going into the excruciatingly awesome (also gnarly, rad and can’t forget ‘epic’) details of their date? To be honest, I’m torn. Was it adorable that they didn’t even kiss? Yes. Am I impressed with Andi for asking the questions that she did? Absolutely. She is clearly trying to get to know these guys in a way that, oh, I don’t know, a certain Venezuelan douche bag didn’t with the ladies. Do I like roasted marshmallows? Actually, no – they’re gross. I think they’re one of those things that sounds good until you actually do it and then you’re like – oh wait, this actually sucks. You know, like bowling, and watching Emily Maynard’s season as The Bachelorette. I have friends who actually fast-forwarded their date so they wouldn’t get attached to him and I kind of feel like to dissect it with my usual…ahem, flare, wouldn’t be right. And besides, we have lots more we could be focusing on. Like Craig. Shame.
As soon as the group date card arrived, I knew we were in for trouble. I mean obviously Andi was using the whole stripper challenge to weed out who would be the good sports and have fun with the activity. Because we know that Andi takes this whole thing VERY seriously and is interested in getting to know these guys on a personal level and not objectifying them as she has been made to feel in the past. Right??? I’m sure she didn’t enjoy watching a bunch of hot guys use sex to get her attention at all. Not Andi.
I have to say, I was pretty impressed that one of the guys (can’t remember who) actually acknowledged two spellings of the word ‘bare’. I believe we’re actually facing a global spelling and grammar crisis that’s spreading through social media faster than gonorrhea from Vienna Girardi. The misuse of your, and you’re and their, there and they’re, especially in angry comments on facebook threads is pretty much driving me to the edge of insanity and back on a daily basis, so when I hear a man in a hoodie proclaiming he’s aware that words can have different meanings and spellings even though they sound the same, well, one small step, people. One small step.
Andi (who apparently missed the guys she met for one minute) welcomes them at the super-classy night club where they’re divided up into female fantasy clichés and begin rehearsing with their tiny little boom-boxes and even tinier costumes. I don’t know about you, but I don’t need a firefighter scene to inspire my hottest fantasy. I’ve got some other ideas I thought it might be nice to consider – you know, for future bachelorettes.
How about a group of hot guys lined up next to – wait for it – a dishwasher? Think about it. First remove the bowls (is it hot in here?), then stack those plates nicely in the cupboard (oh yeah, Baby), then separate that cutlery (almost there!) and then load that bad boy up with the dirty, naughty dishes waiting by the sink (just came). How hot would assembly lining that shit be?
Or here’s another one: Take off that shirt, you big stud you, march that hot bod of yours into the garage and grab that big, hard, metal weed trimmer. Head into that hot, sweaty, overgrown backyard of ours and shave those weeds down so you can’t see them protruding through every god damn crack in our patio stones because you forgot to put new gravel over the grout or whatever man shit you needed to do last summer before they poked through. Shorter, shorter, shorter – oh YES! Now that’s how you get a woman really hot and bothered. Am I wrong?
So back to our fantasy at the strip club (all in the name of charity, guys). Um…here’s something to consider. CRAIG IS SUPER GAY (with Marquel coming in a close second from behind – no pun intended).
I know I’m not the only one astounded by the obviousness of this fact. You could take the easy route and say it’s because of his over-enthusiastic, slightly effeminate voice, or the way he clearly makes all the guys really uncomfortable as he watches them getting undressed. OR you could just listen to him talk about how hot Josh is, not once, not twice, but too many times to count. We get it. Josh is hot. But hearing you marvel at just how ‘incredible’ he is, is just not okay.
Craig’s constant homosexual badgering of every guy in there (with the exception of the moment he took to stuff his speedo with a rolled up washcloth, much to the sheer disgust of the chick working there), was a welcome distraction from the overt displays of choda that made unfortunate appearances in the performances. Thank God Kelly and Sharleen were there to shield Andi’s virgin eyes from the horror. I know though – Sharleen?
While some guys seemed to be on the verge of a full anxiety attack before their performances (so proud of you, Marcus), others really jumped right into the role, like it was just another day at the office, waving those ball-sacs with pride.
And I have to say that though there were moments that resembled Carlton Banks re-enacting the scene where Wil Wheaton pulls a leach off his balls in Stand By Me, with the smell of burnt toast lingering in the air, I was pretty impressed overall with how easily some of these dudes picked up the choreography. Even Dylan, who hasn’t smiled once on the show or shown any emotion whatsoever got into it and gave good old Chris Harrison a little Who’s Your Daddy. Again, for charity, guys.
Finally, the stripping is put to an end, Craig goes off into a washroom for some quick relief while the other guys take a rape shower, and then it’s off for some evening fun with Andi in a hot little LBD.
Wasting no opportunity to use the phrase y’all, Andi starts things off by commenting on how well they clean up while they stare open-mouthed at her perfectly arranged boobs peeking out of her deep V. Then the boys kick it into high gear and clamour for some one-on-one time.
I think we all knew the night was off to a bad start when Craig insisted on making a toast just so he could have a drink – and it just went downhill from there.
Let’s not blame Craig entirely though…there was Nick, the pro-golfer, who pretty much dragged Craig into the pool to (thus sealing his own fate at the rose ceremony) and of course there’s Bradley – who just couldn’t wait one more minute to serenade her with an Opera solo. See here’s where I need to use my new favourite phrase: Stop. Just Stop.
Brian the high school teacher seems like such a sweetheart, and he and Andi’s alone time together was adorable. He actually reminded me a bit of one of my hot high school science teachers (who actually hot boxed a hotel room with us at after prom – but that’s another story). Aah…memories.
Then there’s Josh, who, in case you didn’t get Craig’s homo-memo, is freakin’ hot. His conversation with Andi asking her not to judge him by his pro athlete status (like OMG guys, he like, totally read her mind on that one), actually made him hotter.
Unfortunately, as many of the guys make their way into Andi’s heart, Craig is sinking rapidly into a drunken abyss. By far, his alone time with Andi was my favourite moment of the night – and dare I say, the funniest moment ever in Bachelor history? I literally LOL’d for a full minute when he got his shit together enough to ask her what the worst thing is about her parents. Like continued to laugh as I typed my notes for a significant amount of time, by Bachelor standards.
Blah blah blah, he gets out of hand, is escorted out by the producers, and a single tear trickles down her face as she wonders if she’s made a mistake coming here. Thankfully, she snaps out of that and we move on.
The night ends with Marcus getting the rose for his solo performance. I’m just hoping there’s some personality hidden in that rose somewhere.
Farmer Chris is the lucky one to score the next day’s one on one and she for sure made the right choice. She needed an ego-strokin’ and who else is going to tend to her like a crop, but him? She’s a tad overdressed as you can see people in totally normal shorts and T’s milling about in the background, but I am a sucker for emerald green, so I reluctantly approve of her outfit. It will be interesting to see how her four pounds of foundation hold up in the heat and how long she’ll be able to last in those shoes. For sure when they’re sitting she’s wearing flip flops like she’s at a wedding at 9:30.
He gets all spiffed up like Pretty Woman (before Jason Alexander calls Julia Roberts a whore) and they enjoy a luxurious private box who just so happens to be shared with an old couple who’s been married for 55 years. Plant much? This reminds me of the scene with Dez and the dude when they went to visit Hurricane Katrina victims and sent that old couple out for dinner. I guess they needed the ratings boost and puppies and old people in love are pretty much a guarantee.
Not much else to say about their date – it was cute and romantic, he’s sweet but not funny, yada yada yada, private concert, smoochy smooch, done.
Finally, the cocktail party rolls around and Andi enters with her hair half done and wearing her newest steal from a store no doubt called Svetlana’s Classy Creations or something like that. What was she thinking?
Not to be outdone, Marquel tries his hand at mixing patterns and fails miserably. I’m all for mixing patterns, trust me. Nothing gets me hotter than different scale patterns in the same colour palate for some throw pillow porn. But his outfit was just…no. Still though, it was better than Craig’s who looked like he borrowed his dad’s suit, started to tie his tie and then gave up on it (and life in general).
Nick – still grasping onto that First Impression Rose pulls out all the stops with a one-on-one date card for Andi and a quick champagne and strawberry toast. I know the scenes coming up show him being a dick, but right now, I like him, and his reference to fourth date material. And still, Josh trumps Nick in my opinion, with his adorable nervousness – and that cute, uncomplicated kiss. Perfect.
Craig tries so hard with his acoustic tribute to Andi – and for a moment as he played, I thought maybe she’d keep him around. But then the minute he stops playing, it’s like he presses un-pause on his gayness and there it is again.
I keep thinking Bradley is going to going to reveal that his face is just a skin mask and that really, he’s mask dude from whatever season mask dude was on. Was it Emily’s? Dez’s?
Finally it’s time to cut some of the clutter and Ron, Dylan (god forbid he should smile), JJ, Marquel, Andrew, Tasos, Josh, Cody, Nick V, Patrick, Brian, Brett and Bradley???? Make it through. Yup. That’s right. I said Bradley.
The episode ends with the booted three in various states of sadness, anger and regret. Craig burst out of there, shoulder pads blazing, with no one but himself to blame, and I wanted to crawl into the TV to give poor pink shirt guy a hug. Shame.
I’m not quite sure why there are two episodes on next week and frankly, I’m a bit pissed. Do you think I just have all the time in the world to be sitting here blogging away? The answer is no. No I don’t. Especially when it involves a bunch of dudes that can’t sing getting ready to, well, sing. This should be good.
Till next week!