Scenes from a Theatre

What the fuck happened to people? When did it become ok to disregard even the most basic social graces? A wave in traffic, holding a door open, sorting out your order before getting to the front of a line… this should be basic stuff that everyone knows. How does such a large swath of our population fuck this up? This can’t just be blamed on the “new generation,” either, because apparently a complete lack of situational awareness is an affliction that all demographics suffer from equally. If there is a lab somewhere searching for the existence of a common sense gene, please let me know… I’m prepared to make a large donation.

Full disclosure – I’m a judgmental person. Extremely judgmental, actually. But I almost beat up two old ladies and a ritalin-starved 14 year old today, and I don’t think there is a jury on earth that would have found me even the least bit guilty.

Skyfall came out today. I was more than a little excited to see it. I bought a ticket (yes, one ticket… I go to movies by myself occasionally… just accept it), for the 1:10 showing in the AVX theatre, which meant that seat J16 was waiting just for me; back row, dead centre, absolutely perfect. On my walk to the theatre I actually spent some time thinking about how great it was that you can reserve a specific seat for movies these days. No showing up an hour early, no holding seats for friends (I assume people do this when they go to movies in groups); definitely an improvement to the movie-going experience. This short bout of positivity should have been an internal alarm that disaster was nigh.

I knew from the online seat map that I would be seated next to people on my left, but I was holding out hope that the single seat on my right would be left empty. Shortly after I sat down, two women (one in her 50s, the other probably her mother) made their way down the row and found the two seats to my left, with the more senior of the two sitting immediately beside me. No threat there, I thought to myself – old people are generally well mannered and understand that a theatre should be about as noisy as a library. The seat to my right stayed empty until just before the theatre dimmed, when a boy in his early teens ran down the row, stepped on at least three people, and literally threw himself into the waiting seat. He was carrying a bag of popcorn the size of his torso, and immediately began punishing its contents as if it would attack him if allowed to rest for more than a second. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, or more importantly, heard; a full handful of popcorn slaps against his face, one loud crunch of popcorn gets chewed, then his now-free hand punches into the bag of popcorn, holding the would-be attackers at bay. Repeat this, in one-second intervals, for the next forty minutes. In the first five minutes of his occupation, he kicked my right leg four times, elbowed me three times, and changed seating positions seventy-six times (approximately). The women to my left, meanwhile,  used the time during the handful of trailers to give me my own little preview of what the next two hours of my life was going to consist of; namely, redundant play-by-play of what has happening on-screen (when Django Unchained‘s title was flashed in twenty-foot tall font, the younger one told her mother, “Django Unchained is the name of the movie!”), gasps of excitement anytime a male under the age of 100 appeared, and general moans and groans to fill the silences between gasps and commentary.

As Skyfall started, the thirty-something guy sitting directly in front of me and the spider monkey spun around and told him to stop kicking his seat. His words may have been “stop kicking my seat,” but his face said, “I’ll rip your fucking legs off and beat you to death with them,” and the kid seemed to get the message, at least temporarily.

During the first act of the movie, the women beside me seemed to forget that they weren’t on their couch at home, because the younger one would moan every time Daniel Craig was on-screen, and would damn near slide off of it if he happened to be sans shirt. The older woman was more than happy to play her part in the conversation, agreeing, that yes, she just loves Daniel Craig too, and yes, that scene seemed a little unrealistic, and yes, Shanghai is beautiful at night.

By half an hour in, the spider monkey had won the war against his popcorn, had ran to the bathroom and back, and confirmed to me twice that, “hey, that’s James Bond.” Why the fuck aren’t you at school by the way?

At this point, I decided to cut my losses with the kid… nothing I could say or (legally) do was going to stop his fidgeting, and at least he had been mostly quiet since the popcorn war ended. The two women on my left should know better though, and I was beginning to miss parts of the movie because I was so wrapped up in visualizing their slow, painful deaths. With a third of the movie already gone, my patience wearing thin, and my forty-seven unimpressed looks gone unnoticed, I leaned over and said, “Could you please save your conversation for after the movie… it’s really loud.”

I wasn’t expecting an apology. I wasn’t even expecting an apologetic glance. All I expected was for them to shut the fuck up. What was their response? To start a new conversation about what my problem was.

Meanwhile, the juvenile delinquent to my right had pulled off his shoes, taken all of the change out of his pockets (dropping half of it on the ground in the process) in order to count all of his twenty-something coins, and started sucking on the necklace he was wearing. To be clear, I don’t mean that he was holding a link of his chain between his lips or his teeth… he actually had removed the chain from his neck and placed the entire thing in his mouth, and proceeded to pull it in and out of his mouth like a string of spaghetti. I made a mental note to google, “boy escapes mental hospital,” immediately after the movie.

Overall, it was a horrible movie-going experience, maybe the worst I’ve ever had, but I loved this movie. It was fantastic. Without giving anything away, there was a line in it about getting back to the old ways, and given my experience at the theatre today, I couldn’t help but think that we would all benefit from looking back once in awhile. The world has plenty of problems, but when we can’t even remember how to do the little things right, then we’re really in trouble.

 

 

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The Bachelor (Ep. III)

Episode III: The Wrong Shawntel

I’m actually posting this within twenty-four hours of the show’s airing! Unfuckingbelievable.

We’ve moved from Sonoma to San Francisco, which isn’t exactly a big geographical change, but it reminded me of one of this show’s built-in barriers to actually generating a relationship that can outlast a Kardashian marriage… in the span of a month or two (or however long it takes to film this show), every aspect of these girls’ lives gets elevated to a level beyond luxury. Every house, hotel, penthouse or villa they stay in is ridiculously appointed, they never have to cook, work, or do anything other than drink or prepare for a date. When they do go on a date, it’s ludicrous shit like helicopter rides and private concerts or dinner in the middle of the Bellagio fucking fountains. The object of their affection has two types of lady-killing outfits: a three piece suit or shorts with no shirt (to show off the abs the show developed for him in the three months before filming). The only male alternatives to the Bachelor are Chris Harrison (married, and barely ever there anyway), and the camera crew (who actually managed to nail one of these opposite-sex-deprived ladies a few seasons ago, resulting in her expulsion), which forces these lionesses to look at him like the only gazelle in the entire fucking desert. In the end, one of them gets selected from the pride and inevitably ends up wondering why things “just weren’t the same,” after the filming ended.

I have news for you ladies… no guy in his right mind would ever raise a woman’s expectations like this in real life. Even if they have the means to treat you to the finer things in life, they sure as shit won’t give it all to you at the beginning… that’s a recipe for disaster, as nearly every “couple” this show has ever spit out figures out pretty fucking quick. As for this season, Ben is a wine-maker, he doesn’t own vineyards. Do the math.

Ok, no more tangents… let’s find love.

Ben begins the episode by saying that Kacie B. “sparkles,” a solid endorsement. Kacie B. stock is looking pretty damn strong right now. Ben follows this up by meeting his sister in an awkwardly staged rendezvous at a cafe in San Francisco, during which her most pressing concern seems to be having someone to go on double-dates with. I don’t know any brothers and sisters who would do this even once, let alone as a routine. Another note on the sister… after seeing the episode previews about how a mystery girl would be joining episode three’s cocktail party and causing an absolute shit storm among the “ladies”, I immediately focused my sights on her. How awesome would it be to have your sister come in and turn these women into the backstabbing bitches we all know them to be, only to then announce that she was just there as a spy to see how the other women treated her. I could totally produce this show.

The San Francisco tourism department is loving life right now. The Town didn’t even use this many helicopter shots.

Emily the rapping epidemiologist is a cool chick, and making her walk up a bridge is an odd way to establish trust. If I was a contestant on the Bachelorette, and my date involved  letting tarantulas crawl on me I’d get the hell out of dodge, so good on her for sticking it out. Then the producers tell the girls to look out of their conveniently placed telescope… uh, I mean one of the girls just happens to be looking at the Bay Bridge while Ben and Emily are climbing it… did that really contribute to the suspense? Emily and Ben make it to the top, Emily gets to read a horrendous metaphor about bridges connecting two things (the show is scripted, I’m over it, and you should be too by now), and then tells Ben how eHarmony or some other site matched her with her brother. Damn girl… your brother is into freestyle rhyming and controlling the spread of disease too?

I’m just gonna put this out there… Ben is not good (repeat, not good) when he has to spit out the garbage that the writers give him, but when he speaks off the cuff he’s not a total idiot. A little self-deprecating humour here, a little honest reaction there… this guy might be the most normal Bachelor in years.

Fast-forward to the bikini bunny hill group date (this episode was very back-loaded… the first hour was tough to get through). One question for those of you scoring at home though… who wants to take bets on who the first skank to gear down was? Guaranteed one stripped down to her bikini and the rest of them started thinking, “oh, hellll no… she’s not gonna out-skank me!”

That “key to the city” San Francisco pendant was horrendous… Neil shit the bed on that one. Maybe that’s the real reason that Brittney had such a sudden and total meltdown. If we find out two months from now that her Grandma’s bucket list included, “get on a television show,” and this was how she crossed it off, I won’t be even the least bit surprised. Good riddance to the only girl giving Jaclyn a run for the “but she has a great personality,” award.

What a great shot that was, Ben in the middle of some patio couches flanked by his harem on both sides… it totally reminded me of The Last Supper, only for whores. Go back and watch that again, I can wait.

See? Hilarious, right?

These girls try so hard to impress Ben… for you ladies out there, now you see what poor single guys at bars go through… they try super hard but come off as stupid and desperate… you just can’t pack that many compliments into one conversation and sound even the least bit interesting.

Kacie B. is getting a little jealous, falling into the classic Bachelor pitfall of the girl who gets all the dances at the beginning of the night and then gets left against the wall for a few songs while the guy trawls the rest of the room… relax sweetheart, now is the time to get another drink and let the crazy bitches expose themselves. Anger, fear, jealousy… the dark side of the whores are they.

Brittney crashes the party to tell Ben she’s bailing, which apparently “was the hardest decision of [her] life?” For reals? Life will continue to be hard for you Brittney. Ben comes through in the clutch with a fantastic, “Say hi to your Grandma.” Well played bro.

Rachel gets the group date rose because guys who aren’t used to getting this amount of attention or having this many options always go for the over-the-top try-hards that make the first impression. “You seriously think I’m handsome and funny and intelligent? Damn, I better lock you up… nobody ever says that to me.”

Two of the more obvious lessons learned tonight, taken straight from my notes: Lindzi is easy to please. Courtney is a mean-spirited cunt.

Lindzi probably doesn’t get out much. Ben must have felt like he was on a date with a five-year old. “Where are we now?” as they go through the gates into Chinatown. “Are we going here?” as they walk up to the steps of a massive building. They then, of course, break into an impromptu dance number that I fast-forwarded. Ben and Lindzi continue their date by hitting the town… “Is this a bar?” I totally expect Lindzi to say. “Is this a secret door?” “Is this food?” The horse rule is never wrong.

Ben says that he is looking to get to a “much deeper level,” with Lindzi, and I make a “balls deep,” joke that gets a laugh from my wife. This show brings us so much joy.

Lindzi continues to sell this fake break-up text message story hard, but Ben is not buying.  He does, on the other hand, “like where things are headed,” which seems to be his default line of the season. ABC has me almost convinced that Ben can actually play the piano now (I really don’t think I can deny it at this point… they actually showed him playing this time). And oh by the way, Lindzi really likes this song Ben is playing. Her O-face said so.

The cocktail party/lightning round begins, and Ben decides it would be a good night to select one of the worst tie/suit combos I’ve ever seen. Each are fine on their own, but together? Jesus man, are you color blind?

Jennifer tells Ben that, “you don’t have to question ever,” which my wife says is the new “I will protect your heart.” Shout out to Kasey from Bachelor Pad. I have no idea what made Jennifer think that was a normal thing to say to someone, but so be it. It led to Ben telling her that she was the best kisser, with a classy, “yup, still got it.” That’s generally the reaction I’m going for when I kiss someone too.

At this point, the producers decide to unleash hell on the cocktail party. I think this was a desperate move by the show, especially in episode three of a season that has more than its fair share of crazy women already, but what’s one more. The original group of girls must not have been bickering with each other enough off camera. So in walks Shawntel, or as my wife referred to her, “oh, the other Shawntel.” My feelings exactly. Chantal on the other hand would have been worth throwing some of these ugly bitches off the balcony for. This Shawntel? Not so much. So the rest of the girls go nuts, as expected. We do get some great “real” behavior out of this incident though…

Courtney drops some truth: “Blakely is the kind of girl your boyfriend cheats on you with.” Fantastic. Courtney, you are a miserable bitch, but that was great. As a side note, it just hit me that you’re a 28 year old model, as in you probably haven’t actually been a working model for about five years. No wonder you’re on this show.

We find out that Emily really likes to swear, which is not at all a bad thing. She definitely thinks that Ben is not seeing the other side of Courtney, but is missing the fact that Ben sees the side that looks like a model. Sorry to break that to you Emily.

Kacie B. would definitely shank a bitch if shit got real.

According to the “ladies,” Ben doesn’t need “Brad’s dumpster trash,” but they are totally cool with Ben being Ashley’s dumpster trash. Funny how that works.

Apparently Shawntel is there because she “has to know,” which explains nothing whatsoever. Ben is treating her like a stalker who is demanding answers for why he never called, which is probably exactly what I would do in this situation. Times like these make Ben actually seem like a normal dude.

Chris Harrison put in some unexpected minutes off the bench tonight. Nice contribution as always.

And we’re down to the roses, after Ben called the party quits…

They brought in Trent Reznor to do the score to tonight’s episode apparently. Nice touch.

Courtney. A shoo-in for the top 6 unless one of the other girls’ murders her first.

Kacie B. She sparkles, remember.

Elyse. I have no idea why.

Jamie. Terrible.

Jennifer. He’s not gonna send the best kisser home for another few weeks.

Jaclyn chimes in with the quote of the episode, which is actually quite a feat: “On a scale of 1 to 10 I’m going to throw up.” Love it.

Casey S. I already crushed her before… no reason to pile on. Who am I kidding. Her last name is Shteamer for shit’s sake.

Blakely. “Ugh,” from my wife.

Monica. Whatever.

Nicki. Whatever.

Samantha. She seems to be good for team chemistry, even though it surprises that Ben even remembers her name considering how little time she’s had with him so far.

Jaclyn is going off the fucking rails right now.

Down goes Erika! Down goes Erika! Not nearly as good as advertised though. You either faint or you don’t. You didn’t.

Ben mans up and keeps the last rose. Way to stay strong, even though one girl tried to fake her own death in front of you. You managed to get rid of the ugly one, the one nobody cared about, and the one everyone wanted to stab. That’s a solid night in my books.

Until next week, or more likely the week after. I wouldn’t want to raise expectations.

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The Bachelor (Ep. II)

Episode II: Attack of the Silicone (Yup… more lame Star Wars jokes)

In staying true to the name of this blog, I didn’t even manage to turn my notes from last week’s Bachelor episode into a post. Fuck I’m lazy; you better get used to this level of dedication and commitment. I considered blaming this on the fact that the second episode of this show always sucks compared to the first week, thereby justifying my lack of effort, but I’ve decided that it might be more interesting to post my notes from the episode (unedited) instead.

So here goes… my episode two recap notes (with some added comments in bold italics that I wrote tonight to help explain some of my nonsense), eight days after the fact….

Full disclosure: I had 3 pints of Guinness prior to watching this episode, so my observations may have suffered somewhat. That’s what happens when the National Championship Game directly precedes the Bachelor. I would much rather write a full recap of that game, but it would look like this:

Field goal, punt, field goal, punt, blocked field goal, punt, field goal, punt, missed field goal, punt, field goal, punt, touchdown, game over.

Wow, that was exciting. (It wasn’t) Bring on the money-grubbing skanks! And Kacie and Emily, who I tentatively approve of, until I decide otherwise.

Make correlation between re-reading these notes after the fact with checking text conversations the morning after drinking. What the fuck was I thinking? Did that actually happen? What does that even mean? Even when I leave myself notes to remind me to write about something I fail. This is depressing.

Sonoma

“This bad, this early.” What a great quote to start an episode.

No way this is his dog. My wife reminds me of his baby talk with Ashley. Dammit.

Whole family looks identical.

First date: Kacie B, of course it’s her. I’m a genius.

“Show them something extremely personal” apparently is code for Ben’s junk.

Cheese factory just had my wife excited. Disappointment though.

More piano skills. Ok, ABC, stop trying to convince me that Ben knows how to play.

“I would destroy haribos right now” – My wife. I have no idea why this seemed relevant to type at the time.

Baton skills!!!!! Kacie B breaking out legit skills. Great outfit btw.

Fair play, Ben has mad Dad issues. I would be crushing one of the girls if they had this kind of family baggage.

Ug-o reads the date card. I don’t have many nice things to say about Jaclyn.

Blakely talks a big game.

Kacie gets the first rose. Good precedent.

My wife complains out how unattractive Ben is for the 3rd time in ten minutes.

Already trusts her. Baby movies. Crying in front of her.  Holy shit, just get married already. Dead dad approved.

Lifetime of love after one date! Wtf?

A goddamn play. Fml.

Maybe Ben isn’t so stupid after all. Shake out the ones that are baby crazy and the ones that hate kids.

Inappropriate request for a sexy dance from children. That was really weird, even more so in retrospect.

Nice outfit for children Blakely. You’re a whore.

Courtney… you’re a crazy psycho bitch.

Gingerbread whore.

This is painful to watch. Kill me now. This is some messed up inter-species lovin. I can’t remember which two animals were being inappropriate with each other, but it mildly disturbed me at the time.

Thank god. End this shit. Get to Blakely the crazy whore.

Crying behind luggage. Awesome. From the pre-commercial break preview.

Emily and Rachel get their kisses. Super weak.

Blakely looks like a transvestite, talking smack about the rose.

Emily calls Blakely a whore in the nicest way possible. Emily continues to be awesome.

Samantha hides in the bathroom stall to get away from Blakely. Odd location choice.

“Born ready” from the model. Weak “winning” usage. Crazy as fuck. Not a real person apparently.

Titties out everywhere during this pool game. That’s what I got out of that.

This whole evening has huge potential for  “concealing an erection” points in the GRTFL. The Grantland Reality Television Fantasy League. Check it out.

Is “I’m glad you’re here,” code for “we should make out?” That would explain a lot about how little action I got in high school. I think the Guinness was starting to kick in a bit at this point.

Blakely needs to break the titties out is what she means. “Grown-up time”… more code that I should have tried when I was young. Blakely is about to slide off her chair.  Fakely.

Rose to Blakely. Whore rose. I love how women treat this as a competition show. It’s like the amazing race for whores. “Candy-striping hooker.” Well put.

A dog named Scotch. At least it wasn’t named after wine.

Courtney: “I was just doing me for a while.” Coke and bulimia, I’m assuming.

Tractor riding? Ben is going to have a lot of “best dates I’ve ever had” I think.

Dinner under a tree. “Yeah, I did.” He means, “yeah, the producers did.”

She totally wasn’t expecting that deep or long of an answer. She was hoping for about 5 or 6 words.

Courtney is equally dumbfounded that she is still available.

Some trust issues. You think?

“A ha moment.” Fuck off.

Totally can’t believe he actually got a model in this group. Doesn’t really matter what she does or says, he just can’t believe he’s going to get to fuck a model. This remains the only reason Courtney is still on this show. She’s horrible.

This chick would absolutely stab you in your sleep. You know this show has a problem when I can’t even remember which girl I was talking about when I wrote this… I’m going to assume Courtney.

Time for the lightning round!

“First impression girl” aka I don’t remember your name. Wow, she called him on it, Ben has been studying. This girl ticks off almost every red flag for a good friend of mine. This is almost comical.

“Cheers”ing skinny ties? You girls suck.

Samantha is about to rat out Blakely’s (Jugs) ugly ass.

Ben’s a boob man.

Ben is gonna ask the camera people to steer him away from this crazy bitch.

How did Ben not write into the contract that the only wine that would be poured would be from his vineyard? What was he thinking? All these broads do is drink wine.

Jenna gets the best crazy music. “I’m not like a girl.” Jenna must just get hammered instantly.

Samantha is awesome. Please stick around for comic relief.

Squatting behind luggage and crying seems like a normal thing to do.

Best thing to do is ask the girl you’re not gonna keep… rat out all the other bitches.

This is like hide and go seek for crazy broads…. This is pretty fucking funny actually.

It’s a different experience for them because THEY’RE CRAZY WOMEN!!!

CHRIS!!! I was getting a little too into Chris Harrison’s appearances last week apparently.

13 Roses:

Jennifer…  She would have cried forever had she not got one. Pity rose.

Emily… Nice!

Elyse… Still frightening.

Jaclyn… Still ugly.

Erika… Meh.

Rachel… decent.

Lindzi… “that’s me!”

Nicki… Meh.

Casey S… Who?? This girl couldn’t have picked a worse season to be on… you have a relatively unique name, yet you’re stuck on the same show as another Kacie who is infinitely better than you in every way. And I thought I had bad luck.

Samantha… Nice. More good nicknames to come.

Monika… “Ewwwww” from my wife.

Jamie… Decent.

CHRIS!! Again… I think I just want his job.

Brittney… The GILF comes through again.

Who is Jenna going to stalk first? No idea who that blonde girl is. What’s the over/under on times per week Jenna sees a therapist. 5.5? Betting the over heavy.

San Fran. Wtf was Blakely wearing there? Brittney’s grandma died. Crazy mystery girl. Fainting. This was from the end of episode previews… so it turned out that Brittney’s mom didn’t die, and she’s actually just a bit unhinged. I guess that’s better.

So those were my notes from episode two. Not bad in retrospect; maybe I should get half-cut before every episode of this show.

On to episode three!!

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The Bachelor

Episode I: The Phantom Menace (it’s probably herpes)

The first question you’re probably asking yourself: men actually watch the Bachelor? Yes, we do, for the following reasons (in no particular order):

  • Women are crazy, especially when they’re competing with each other for something. Even more so when that something is a man. A man who’s being sponsored by Neil Lane. This show is a master class in identifying crazy.
  • The women are (typically) pretty hot. This is not a banner season in this category. More on that later.
  • I live in a one bedroom apartment with my wife and we only have one TV. This show practically invented the category: “Shows I’m Forced to Watch Because my Wife Likes Them.”

Alright, no more half-hearted excuses. Let’s jump right into this madness. I’m not going to explain how this show works… if you’ve made it this far I’m just going to assume that you either know already or don’t care.

We start with the formulaic introduction, complete with sunsets, flashbacks of Ben’s ill-advised proposal on the last season of the Bachelorette, narration about how his heart was broken, and plenty of overwrought thousand yard stares. I’ve actually met some of the people who produce this show, and even they can’t talk about this shit with a straight face. The longer this segment drags on, the more I am mentally calculating how much money they would have to pay me to be on this show. Sorry, you want me to walk down the beach with my unbuttoned, linen shirt blowing in the wind while I talk about how “available” I am? That’ll be an extra 50k.

There is no way Ben is actually playing that piano. Zero chance. Not a single shot of his fingers touching keys to be seen and the piano music is added in production instead of being live… nice try though ABC.

A few “coming up,” clips… a horse, a grandma, and some bi-curiosity? Where have I read that description before?

Some quick thoughts on a couple of the same 5 commercials we’re going to see every break for the next two hours…

  • Jeff Bridges would not be impressed if he knew his voice was going to be a part of that rapping white guy Hyundai commercial. The dude would not abide….
  • Celebrity wife swap!?!? What the… Holy Shit! Flavor Flav!!!

Chris Harrison has the best job in television. I’m putting it out there right now.

Bring on the ladies (and I use that term loosely). Which of the 25 are the producers going to commit camera time to with the home town previews?

Crazy horse girl right out of the gate. Always a red flag. Lindzi?? Does she really need a last initial? Wouldn’t “Lindzi with a Z and an I” not explain it better? And you’ve been riding horses since before you could walk? Somebody get child services on the phone. Lindzi then shows us a fake text message from her ex-boyfriend who apparently used a Simpsons quote to break up with her. The horse gimmick is enough sweetheart, take it easy.

Amber T, aka Amber with a gun, gets busted by the producers when she says she’s 28 but the screen shows her as 29. Rough start. And then… Cow balls. Jesus. You’re done before you even started.

Kacie the secretary. Tough start here, had absolutely nothing to say about herself, and then worked in a true love story about her grandparents. Pretty though.

Courtney the model from Santa Monica has top 4 potential on looks alone but has top 1 potential for being a crazy gold-digging bitch. We’ll see how long Ben keeps her around.

Jamie the nurse. I immediately wrote down “baby crazy,” in my notes, which she basically admitted to at the end of her segment. Yikes. Throw in a junkie for a mom and having to raise her own siblings, and this chick is drowning in baggage. My wife astutely points out she will have “trouble opening up.” Sadly, this is not our first rodeo.

Lyndsie the diplomat’s daughter. Who spells this shit? I don’t think the producers needed to help make this girl look crazy, but they certainly didn’t help.

Jenna aka Carrie Bradshaw. My wife immediately says she has top 5 potential, but I have serious doubts. Your blog is called The Overanalyst? They’re playing the crazy girl music during your opening segment!! First one to cry for sure… amazing crazy is right.

Shawn from Finance has a son. Someone always gets the requisite mom pass for a few weeks until she melts down about being away from them for too long. Umm, here’s an idea… don’t go on a reality show! Meltdown or not, I think Shawn will stick around for a bit.

Nicki from Texas talks about her ex-husband immediately. Odd choice. Then we have a bizarre image of her mother cutting onions. This girl must like to cry…

Nine girls get advance camera time. They have not filled me with optimism for the remainder of this show.

A black limo driver? On the whitest show ever? Really ABC?

Back from commercial break, and Ben tells Chris that it’s “good to be back,” while he makes eye contact with everywhere but Chris Harrison. It must be tough for a normal guy to memorize lines. Meanwhile, my wife and I discuss how Ryan would have made for a better Bachelor. He was so utterly clueless and heartbroken on last season’s Bachelorette, I thought we were going to witness our first televised suicide when he was walking on the rocks along the ocean. Endless unintentional comedy that guy.

Anyways, Ben throws out an unconvincing, “let’s do this,” in regards to meeting 25 women that want to fuck him. At least feign interest dude…

As the first limo pulls up, my wife mentioned how she loves that they always use the same house, which I agree is pretty hilarious, and then start thinking how nasty that place must be. Call CSI and break out the black light.

My first impressions, which I admit are not particularly deep:

  • Blonde Rachel. Bit of an overbite which is throwing me off. “Rose is my middle name.” I roll my eyes for the 79th time.
  • Erika the lawyer breaks out a horrible line (ohhh, he’s guilty, cus you’re a lawyer, I see what you did there Erika, you’re so smart!) and an even more horrible dress.
  • Poco in the house. Amber B the baconater!! I actually laughed out loud when she said that. What a horrible representative for Canada. Brutally rehearsed lines too. A 0 out of 10.
  • Elyse the personal trainer frightens me a bit.
  • Crazy Jenna blogger. Worst. Hello. Ever.  Yes sweetheart, you did screw it up.
  • Courtney the model touches Ben’s hair and probably gives him wood. Wouldn’t be the first time.
  • Emily the epidemiologist. Sanitization is always a tough way to start a relationship. Good save on the kiss though.
  • Miss Pacific Palisades (Samantha) with the high five! Good God.
  • Casey S has nothing to say apparently.
  • Amber T’s yellow tiger print dress was awful. The doubling back for love at second sight joke was no better.
  • Holly (34!!) thought a big stupid hat was a good idea.
  • Jamie the Serious lived up to her name that I gave her just now.
  • Shira B (for bulimia). Sadly not the Princess of Power.
  • Blakely the VIP hostess (or prostitute, either way) has a smile (I think she has a weird upper lip) that I find kind of unnerving. To rehearse or not to rehearse… we know how Blakely answered the eternal question.
  • Gilf! Aw, too bad, it’s her granddaughter Brittney. Pulling the family ties card early is a smart first night move, too much of a gimmick to last long term.
  • Nicki calls Ben precious. Bad imagery there…
  • Dianna the poser. I immediately typed “young and stupid” in my notes, only to learn that she’s 30. Not a good sign for Dianna.
  • Jennifer the fake ginger is a mathlete (bonus points from this judge), who dropped some number knowledge on Ben. Nice.
  • Crazy British Lyndsie. Horrible poetry. The producers also managed to find the rare ugly British female accent. Missed opportunity.
  • Anna the student goes for mystery. Bold move.
  • Monica “oh hell,” already misses her dog. Nice first impression.
  • Jaclyn. If the rest of the girls average out to a 7, Jaclyn is a -12.
  • Shawn from finance in an unflattering dress (that’s me being nice) and a “slug” on the arm.
  • Kacie. Definite top 5 and my opening night pick to “win.” Kacie killed the introduction. Wife approved. She was much better in person than on her prerecorded segment, and managed to have a nice southern accent (which I didn’t think was possible).
  • Crazy horse chick Lindzi arrives on a horse. Of course she does.

Now the part where 25 love (read: money) hungry women drink together in the same house. This should go well, right? It is painfully obvious that these girls have been reminded to tell the camera how handsome Ben is on the reg, which just makes my wife insult his haircut even more frequently.

Let the lightning round begin!

Rachel is unemployed and has weird ear piercings (cue the crazy music). Nicki hints at her divorce (soon to manifest into a “trust” issue for sure). Lindzi hopes that Ben doesn’t secretly hate horses. Far too much Grandma time.

Chris Harrison expertly performs one of his three tasks: rose delivery. Well done sir. The ugly one (Jaclyn) then proceeds to grab the first impression rose off the tray… an immediate ejection in my book. Although, if we were playing by my rules I would have invented a rule that never would have let her get out of the limo.

More lightning round!

Shawn plays soccer. Blakely has a Kasey-esque key to my heart tattoo, which causes my wife to burst out in excitement (anytime you can reference Kasey, one of the most fascinatingly stupid contestants ever on this show, you pretty much have to). The dumb one with nothing to say during her introduction blindfolds Ben and jams candy in his mouth (just play along dude, it will all be over soon). Emily the epidemiologist rapper!!!!! I cringed in horror when she started and was actually impressed by the end. Huge points scored there. Courtney the model says some model-like things. Jenna Carrie Bradshaw is certifiable… seriously, hide the glass and sharp objects. Monica wants to fuck Blakely… I have no doubt that both of them have gone down this road before.

Jenna starts spitting crazyfire at Monica. Sharing tampons? Wow.

Time for the first impression rose, which of course goes to Lindzi the crazy horse girl, although I maintain that if Ben saw her name spelled out he would have gone in a different direction.

Jenna definitely should have had to do her walk of shame from the bathroom with Ben in the room. They’re hiding the crazy from him! It’s as if they want him to keep her for entertainment value! It’s as if this is scripted!!!

Chris knocks his address to the ladies out of the park as always, and then Ben tries hard not to say the wrong names, Jesse Palmer style.

Jamie
Rachel
Blakely
MC Emily.  Solid pick there.
Kacie B. The frontrunner.
Casey S.
Brittany
Erika
Shawn
Nicki
Jennifer the fake ginger
Elise
Miss Pacific Palisades. Christ, that’s a sign of how weak this crop is.
Courtney the model. Of course.
Jaclyn. Damn dude, seriously?
Monika. Jenna meltdown upcoming.

This is the final rose tonight.  Thanks Chris, great job as always.

Jenna. The producers made him to do it. Can’t we just call it the pity rose? The batshit crazy rose maybe?

The Baconater is out! How could she not be really… how she got selected in the first place is a better question.

This season, on the Bachelor…. Models are crazy! Jenna cries more! Blogging isn’t a real job! Tune in next week kids!!

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myintrotoletuknow

Hey, what’s going on?

“Absolutely nothing,” you say?

You’ve come to the right place. I’m practically sponsored by absolutely nothing.

I spend an inordinate amount of time on the internet for someone who actually has a day job. What I’ve found during my digital travels is that after a little while, you end up settling on a rotation of websites you actually enjoy. You bookmark them, you subscribe to them on your RSS feed, you add them to your twitter account, maybe you even “like” them on Facebook (why you would do this last one I will never understand, but whatever). This navigational efficiency cuts down the amount of time you spend on the internet and prevents you from wasting time, mindlessly scrolling through random sites looking to see if they’ve posted something new. You’ve now drastically cut down the amount of time you have to spend glued to your Macbook/iPad/iPhone. You have more time to focus on that other thing that you should be doing right now that you really don’t want to do but you know you should.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. That doesn’t sound like “absolutely nothing” to me. It sounds like you’re dangerously close to finding something more productive to do, which is why you came to see me in the first place. It sounds like you need a new ace for your starting rotation (although I’ll settle for middle reliever status), that can chew up innings and dependably get you to your closer. (That’s probably the last time I’ll awkwardly use a baseball metaphor. Probably.) This blog can do that for you. If you find yourself thinking, “man, where did that last hour go?”, you’re welcome.

While I’ve never been accused of being prolific (the blog’s name forbids it actually), check back here if you’re looking for a completely nonsensical assembly of writings that I will try and add to on the regular.

Comments are always welcome, unless you’re one of those people that posts “first!” If so, please don’t pretend that you read anything I wrote; we all know you can’t read.

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