Tuesday, February 1, 2011

The Bachelor: We're all facing a lot of inner demons today

Just when I thought I was going to give up on a season that features extended segments of the Main Character getting therapy, the Bachelor delivers this week with the awesome spectacle of shoving death in the face of an emotionally fragile girl. AWESOME.

Chris Harrison arrives to kick things off and tells everyone we’re going to Vegas now. Specifically, we’re going to this week’s sponsor, the Aria Hotel, which looks like a waterfall threw up on Logan’s Run and has a website that AUTOPLAYS MUSIC FUCK YOU ARIA. The girls get settled in the Larry Flynt Suite and Shawntel the Mortician goes on her solo date, wearing an outfit that looks like she pulled it out of someone’s dirty clothes pile. But we’ll fix that by going on a shopping spree at Fendi and Prada and whatnot and ABC just bought this chick a $5,000 purse. Too bad ABC’s not a guy or ABC would be getting laid for sure. Then Morticia brings it all back to rub it in the faces of those other bitches! Michelle tries to shoot cancer into Shawntel with her eyes.

Then Morticia gets another date! You get one guess what it’s going to be. If you did not guess “Rooftop Dinner,” you are sentenced to watch “Castle” without taking opiates. YOU’LL TRY HARDER NEXT TIME WON’T YOU. Morticia comes out to him as a funeral director. Brad is scarily too interested. She gives him a little talk about embalming in which she uses the words “leakage,” “orifices,” and “insert,” but even worse, bitch chews with her mouth open. GROSS. Just because your Corpse Friends don’t care doesn’t mean we don’t. Fireworks go off and Dead People Time is over.

Back at the Aria Las Vegas, the chicks are told the Group Date theme is “Let’s Go Speed Dating.” Sadly, this will not involve unlimited meth and wild animals. It’s actually at the NASCAR racetrack! Just when I doubted you, ABC, you pull out the stops and take the chick whose baby daddy was a racecar driver and died on his way to a race out to the track for the “NASCAR Experience”!!!! LOVE IT, ABC!!! Not only that, Dead Racecar Driver crashed at this very track and that ended his racing career. Not his flying to races career, obviously! But the whole thing is so perfectly twisted you have to love it. Did you mate die in a horrible boating accident? TIME FOR WATER SKIING!!!! Fell off a cliff? RAPELLING IS FUN!!!!

Amazingly, SHE IS GOING TO DRIVE THE RACECAR. Little Rickie is very nervous! Lifetime Emily is the last parent she’s got! Luckily, Emily never gets over 35 mph. Then it’s off to the inevitable pool party. It’s basically the Emily Party and chicks is PISSED because Brad’s spending all his time with her. Crazy Michelle takes him aside and tells him there are “a lot of immature girls here.” Chantal cries. I secretly hope Emily made up the whole Ricky story.

HEAD TO HEAD CAGE MATCH DEATH DATE with the Ashleys. Two will go on a date, but only one will return. The sad part is that one will return. The whole thing involves this Super Fucking Retarded Elvis Cirque du Soleil show that oldsters probably cream over but looks like the dumbest fucking thing in the history of theater. Nanny Ashley says she “is going to be fighting a lot of inner demons today.” What, did your boyfriend die in a circus accident? She keeps talking about how she’ll never find love but CHRIST LADY YOU’RE 22 FUCKING YEARS OLD and you live in NYC and you’re reasonably attractive. Fuck finding love, you should be finding the VIP rooms of clubs with professional athletes and mounds of cocaine. Love isn’t going anywhere, sweetie, but you’re only 22 in New York once. Anyway, she gets cut and she and her Silly Bandz are headed back to the Upper West Side. “I feel like someone punched me in the stomach. And the heart,” she says. Ugh, I feel like someone punched me in the head, so we’re even.

Brad places a call to his TV Therapist who’s hanging out on some patio furniture and waiting for the call to get his own syndicated show. TV Therapist makes up some bullshit about trusting your inner voice or something, I don’t know. It’s so boring I kind of blacked out.

Finally, we get to the Cocktail Party and can start wrapping this shit up. He shines on Marissa with some champagne and dessert but she has Dead Chick Walking written all over her. Crazy Michelle takes him in the backroom and, I don’t know, threatens to disembowel his family if he doesn’t pick her. No surprises, Marissa and some chick named Lisa who I don’t think I’ve ever seen before get cut. Onward and upward.

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