Episode 2 and we’re off and running in what actually might prove to be an exciting season. This week’s lead-in promised fast cars, Las Vegas nights, sexy photo shoots, and a classic Alpha Male vs. Wimpy Guy showdown. With 17 guys in the mix and 14 roses up for the earning, we all put on some post-Memorial Day aloe vera, grabbed a glass of wine, and fired up the DVR in search of the perfect cap on our holiday weekend. Thanks to all the troops who do what they have to so I can do what I want to. Let’s get to it.
Ali Fedetowsky continues her quest to purge herself of her awful maiden name. She does a poor job with her voiceover telling us that she’s SO excited to be dating 17 guys but, in spite SO much pressure, she’s feeling SO confident.
SO what?
Like I said last week, Ali just didn’t put in the work in the off season. Take some diction lessons, work out like it matters, and practice. It’s not like she had to be anywhere unrelated to the show for the past few months. She’s homeless and unemployed for God’s sake. Please come up with another adverb besides “SO.” There are SO many other options.
Cut to the Macho Palace. After some macho mimosas (if that’s even possible) to get the macho morning moving, the guys are instructed to go upstairs and put on their best macho pastel Armani Exchange t-shirts and True Religion jeans before convening in the living room where Harrison tees up the episode. Harrison emerges unassumingly in his untucked oxford gingham shirt and black slacks to announce that there will be 1 group date and 2 individual dates. The macho tension is palpable as everyone except Roberto and his warm up jacket grips hard at the possibility of not getting one of the coveted one-on-one dates. True to form, Harrison plants the seed of conflict by letting us know that these dates are “double edged swords” because each invitee has a chance of being summarily dismissed by our pouty-lipped and wide-hipped bachelorette. He drops the date card to the wolves and makes his exit.
“Get Hefner on the phone. Tell him to have the grotto ready. I want the oldest thing in there to be my 21 year old single malt scotch,” he barks as he leaves the mansion.
Two things: First, Harrison could relax a bit on the less than subtle phallic imagery. There’s already enough testosterone floating around in that house to impregnate a female octogenarian. Second, I know Ali isn’t fat and I don’t think she’s carrying a wide load. However, there are many valid points to be made about her caboose. Humor me.
Hunter assumes Gia’s last season duties as Really Important Card Reader and reads the “All Signs Point to Love” date card aloud as we find out that Frank and his glasses get the first one-on-one date. He and his Member’s Only jacket understandably celebrate. Incidentally, I naively thought that Frank’s jacket would be the worst jacket featured in this episode. I think we all know I was incredibly wrong. More about that later.
There’s some standard guys-who-didn’t-get-a-date-sitting-around-the-mansion-talking-strategy talk and we cut to Ali’s voiceover reaffirming this season’s theme about her “second chance at love” as she gets ready for her big date with Frank by donning a (*yawn*) yellow tank top, pedal pushers, and purple, low top, Chuck Taylor sneakers. I found myself wondering if she was preparing for a dress rehearsal for a way off Broadway production of Grease and then realized that if that were true, she would have picked Justin for the first date since Danny Zuco didn’t wear lesbian glasses. Ali braids her hair, covers her big bottom lip in gloss, and leaves her love nest to pick up Frank.
As the men sit around the pool in pseudo-aviator sunglasses, v-neck t-shirts, board shorts, and choker necklaces exchanging “one time I nailed this chick” stories, Ali enters to a chorus of underserved Ooooo’s and Ahhhh’s and Frank looks happier than a prisoner in steel underwear as Ali follows direction by giving Frank an understated version of the Jillian leg wrap greeting. Frank rubs it in just enough to not offend anyone before leaving to see the turquoise, convertible, late 50’s Thunderbird he and Ali will soon be using to sit in gridlock traffic on the 105. We see a shot of the Weatherman’s disappointment and assume it’s because the car was the same color as one of his ties. Ali and Frank pull away to the sound of more cat calls and a shot of Justin hobbling in his white Capri pants, black muscle shirt, and dog tags behind the rest of the men. I was confused by the Capri pants and muscle shirt prior to seeing the dog tags and realizing that Justin had evidently joined the gay army.
Apparently under the long-standing “Bachelorette” tradition that anytime a person rides sans seatbelt in a fancy convertible it is necessary to raise his/her arms and give a loud “whooooo” before announcing how “amazing” it is to ride in a convertible, Frank and Ali “whoooo” all over the place and “amazing” each other to death before the car finally gets sick of it and shuts down. Ali “oh my God’s” like SO many times I actually thought the DVR was stuck. Frank and his glasses sit there looking useless and as they abandon the car on the 105 in favor of a walk we see how short Frank is before someone calls a cab.
Come on, Frank. You’re a guy. At least pretend to examine the engine or drop some car lingo like, “it must be the alternator” or “maybe the plugs fouled.” Don’t just sit there like Gay J. Foyt. In spite of the speed bump, Ali is proud of Frank for “going with it.” In a flashback moment, we see Ali’s rats’ nest hair reminiscent of last season when that d-bag from Denton made her wear a motorcycle helmet on their first date.
When they arrive in the slum that is Hollywood, Ali immediately draws “unwanted” attention in front of Mann’s Chinese Theater and she and Frank mug for the camera. The best part about that exchange was the poor cowboy in the background with the video camera who had no idea who they were. He came there looking for the Walk of Fame stars of Gene Autry and Johnny Cash and ended up on the “Bachelorette”.
After successfully turning the date into a cross-promotional publicity stunt (nice job PR Department), the Producers order Ali and Frank into another dirty cab and they go to a secret location in the Hollywood Hills for more romance. We then return to the mansion to check the blowout preventers and gauge the tension between the men.
We cut to a shot of this season’s biggest complainer, Craig R., whining to Justin again about not being sincere and some other nonsense about not telling him about his pro wrestling career as McCheesy (Craig M.) stands by watching. Tick, tick, tick, tick. . .
Ali and Frank arrive behind a secured fence line and break into the locked gate as Ali does that annoying giggling thing that is apparently impossible to edit out of her comments. They giggle knowingly down the hill and end up in front of the Hollywood sign where Frank’s hair gel continues to provide maximum hold and Ali attempts to hide the blemish on her chin. Frank retells the moving to Paris to be a screenwriter story, lets us know that he “left it all behind” in search of his dream. Yes, he followed his heart. Frank tells Ali that he was following his heart in Paris “for like a month and a half.” Really? Six weeks. Riding the momentum he’s created, Frank moves in for the kiss in spite of the giant zit on Ali’s chin and he appears to be falling in love. I have to admit that I like Frank. He’s been the only ballsy one since the first day and—assuming Ali is a prize—he’s clearly been rewarded for it.
Ali pretends to appreciate and understand Frank’s six week quest for Nirvana by ignoring reality and characterizing herself as “SO career driven.” They cuddle some more in front of the sign and exchange some more staged kisses. Nothing says sweet love quite like a date consisting of no lunch, no limo, no drinks, a broken down late model car, and an illegal trespass. I hope Harrison at least picked up the cab fare.
Miraculously, the car was not stripped and sold for scrap and Frank and Ali get it back. We see Ali looking like a low rent Sandra Dee as she accessorizes her tired yellow tank and pedal pushers with a black leather jacket. She and Frank pretend to be comfortable in their booty socks on the hood of their junker as they share more “oh my God’s,” cupcakes, and champagne. It was nice of the mechanic to pack a picnic basket for them. Frank procures a rose and ensures his safety in the upcoming rose ceremony because Ali likes “like four things” about him. He’s funny, smart, quirky, and -------. Well, three things. We are glad for Frank and hope his retail career is as a manager of either the Gap or Old Navy since Ali appears to be comfortable in their clothes. If Ali qualifies for his 30% employee discount, he should let her know before the finale. Nice job, Frank. You’ll be around a while. Just pray that Roberto is the one with the girlfriend.
Back to the mansion. We learn that Weatherman, Ty, Chris H., Kirk, Hunter, Tyler V., Steve, Craig R., Chris N., Justin, Kasey, and McCheesy get the group date. “Picture us Together” is the clue and the Weatherman forecasts McCheesy’s demise. We get a foreboding shot of McCheesy looking like he just won a Gin Rummy tournament in Miami Beach with his playfully unbuttoned oxford shirt and his Sammy Davis, Jr. hat. The guy screams A-hole and, unlike seasons past where it could be argued that people received a “bad edit,” it becomes abundantly clear that this guy is the real deal. Craig drinks, insults and attacks the Weatherman and Jesse for no apparent reason, drinks, attempts to bully everyone, drinks, and continues to drink.
Date two begins with a shot of Ali’s midsection meandering around Malibu. She’s wearing a bikini top and, of course, cargo pants to secure the extra cargo in her pants. In a moment of sheer perfection, the guys pull up in a Hummer limousine—a ride befitting the gorilla-like behavior oozing from their pores. Incidentally, driving a Hummer is like living in Dallas: It’s nothing to be proud of. Thank God GM took that brand behind the shed and put it out of its misery. I’m sure that guys who own gyms will find something to drive instead.
Ali is greeted with mating calls as she stands there shyly with her hands in her pockets waiting for the sword fight for attention to begin. She lets us know that we’re in “Malibu where it’s like a beautiful day.” At least she didn’t use “So.” The men exit the limo carrying drinks in one hand and salamis in the other and proceed to do their best Ali on a date with Frank impression by rolling up their True Religion and Seven jeans and walking down the beach with Ali. We wonder if they sell men’s clothes for men where any of these guys shop. McCheesy appropriately wears a cheese-colored, v-neck tank he borrowed from Ali, Justin hops around on his crutches, and we find out that the guys will be wearing Speedos for the photo shoot. Despite this “surprise” we breathe a deep sigh of relief as we realize that all of the guys have shaved and waxed in all of the appropriate places.
Weatherman calls McCheesy a d*ck and a jerkoff and then almost cries about having to wear a Speedo. Ty, Hunter, and Craig R. make the most of it before Ty breaks out his fortuitously present guitar and sings this season’s “It Don’t Take that Long” entitled “Living in a Moment,” while Ali melts; once again proving that the beating anyone takes as a kid for taking music lessons pays off in spades as an adult. The shoot ends with feats of strength, more of the Weatherman putting his sexuality in doubt, and more of McCheesy setting up the final battle between himself and the Weatherman.
Cut to the dinner portion of the date. As the cheese chariot arrives and the men exit we get a slow motion shot of them in their Lucky jeans, starched, untucked shirts, and choker necklaces walking side by side. It looked like a gay version of that Reservoir Dogs scene. Meanwhile, Justin hobbles and worries aboot being the odd man oot. You’d think that they would have heard about the vowel “U” in Canada by now. Odd.
High on the success of his new song, Ty and his giant choker get Ali alone and he gives her the “I’m divorced” talk. She pretends to buy it. Ty, trim your Luke Perry sideburns and stick to the guitar. You’re fine. Oh, and buy a comb too. The Weatherman escalates the trash talk about McCheesy as we see McCheesy priming the pump and working himself and his pink shirt into a macho frenzy by belting down beer after beer and becoming more aggressive toward everyone. In a moment of pure “Bachelorette” gold, the Weatherman fights back tears and refers to McCheesy as a “Category 6 A**hole” before breaking out his white Beat It jacket and going to co*k block Ty.
What in the world was going on with that jacket? If that doesn’t push him out of the closet, it certainly unlocks the door. It might as well have been covered in sequins. The Weatherman meets with Ali, tattles on McCheesy, looks as gay as ever, and eventually thanks Ali for letting him borrow her coat. After realizing how feminine he looked in that jacket he does some damage “I’m straight” control in his one-on-one by insincerely going on about how hot Ali looked. He returns to the bar and orders a tall and stiff drink. I suppose he likes his drinks like he likes his men. McCheesy continues to pile on while the others sit around and laugh. I think you’ll all agree that it got old.
Cut back to the house where Chris L., Frank, Jesse, and Roberto are all sitting around doing nothing. Frank—still high after his low rent date with Ali—reads the date card and opens a set of monogrammed cufflinks. After they figure out Jesse’s initials are different from theirs, they figure out that Jesse has won the coveted one-on-one date proving that Roberto and Chris L. are at the top of the Ali’s food chain. Back to the party.
Justin hobbles in for some alone time with Ali. She “likes him” but seems a little tipsy. It’s not every season that our maiden is a lush. That’s nice to know. Craig R. continues to whine and whine and whine about just about everything. Kasey, dressed in a black shirt and sport coat with a silky grey tie probably not unlike the guy who chauffeured the limo, reminds us that he’s creepy (tick, tick, tick). “It puts the lotion in the basket or it gets the hose again,” he says as he tells Ali that he’s been kidnapping husky women for the past few months. Despite Justin and Kasey’s efforts a tipsy Ali gives Ty the date rose adding to the return on investment for his guitar lessons. Divorce Schmorce. He’s in.
Time for Date 3. We cut to Jesse and his overdone tribal art tattoos getting ready for his one-on-one. Ali primps in front of the mirror before donning another tank top and skinny jeans that accentuate her badonkadonk and loading up her giant purse and walking amongst the cacti and yucca bushes to meet Jesse. She awaits him in front of a private plane and tells him that they are going to Vegas for the evening. Everything is “SO” everything and they board in spite of her fear of flying. Jesse “makes her feel safe” aboard the private plane by holding her hand. I’m sure the Big Bopper did the same thing to Buddy Holly. They land in Vegas and hop into a convertible Ferrari for some “whoooo” action shots. Ali again forgets her scrunchy as we endure shots of them whooo hooing down the Vegas strip to cliché Brat Pack music and the standard shots of Vegas. They both looked uncomfortable with each other.
Ali tells us that they are headed to the pool at Liquid and “like no one has ever been here before.” Well, if you exclude the location scouts, contractors, architects, crew, and various mobsters, I suppose she’s correct. We get another look at Jesse’s tribal tattoos in his board shorts and I wondered if there was an entire tribe of contractors in Peculiar, Missouri with similar artwork. Ali emerges from the changing room in a hot pink bikini top and—you guessed it—a sarong covering her trailer proving that her rear end is certainly bigger than Jillian’s. They eat oysters, which Jesse hates and she drops “nice guy” on him a few times before she loses the sarong behind a strategically placed shrubbery and quickly submerges herself in the pool. They frolic.
After the pool, Jesse eventually figures out the single Windsor knot and awaits Ali in her Rain Man Suite. He actually cleaned up nicely. Too bad his personality didn’t match his looks. She emerges with her hair in a bun looking underwhelming in another poorly fitting Linda Evans-esque gown with a bedazzled collar and a really weird neckline. I’m a dude and even I could see the dress didn’t fit her. They go to a private suite for a candlelight dinner where she “nice guys” him some more. Clearly, she wasn’t interested but Jesse garnered another rose with some “I’m from a small town” talk. They eventually go to Haze nightclub for a private performance by some guy no one has ever heard of and some awful dancing. Jesse is a nice guy, but she doesn’t dig him. He’ll last another week or so.
Back at the house McCheesy drinks and plays dress up in the Weatherman’s clothes. Liquored up from dinner, Ali eventually shows up in a bedazzled silky dress thing with another weird collar and Chris L. steals some alone time to exchange regional banter and quell his insecurity. You’re safe, dude. Relax.
As if he needed it, Roberto gets some one-on-one time while Craig R. whines about it again. Ali giggles like a drunken sorority girl as Roberto fishes with dynamite. Armed with Spanish Fly and disarming good looks, he tells Ali casually, “I travel the world and play baseball,” and Ali eats it up as if it was her first meal in days. They play catch and he teaches her how to throw a knuckleball. If he’s not the guy with the girlfriend, the others are light years behind. Frank fights through Attention Deficit Disorder to comment on Ali and Kasey fights through his desire to tuck in front of the mirror. Craig R. complains again and almost cries when Frank is assertive enough to get yet another kiss. John C. emerges from obscurity, Weatherman pinky drinks his cocktails, and McCheesy stews in alcohol and testosterone.
Ali eventually slams the door shut on McCheesy by confronting him with the “dangerous” accusations. He fumbles around like a school boy in the principal’s office and seals his fate. No hug, no kiss equals No Rose. See ya, sh*thead. Frankly, I would have liked to see her (and the producers) embarrass him a little more. It’s not every day that a jerk that big gets put in his place. After the meeting, McCheesy makes an attempt to call out the Weatherman in front of the guys but the damage is done. We all know a guy like this and we were all glad to know he’d gotten his comeuppance.
Latent Homosexuals 2
Ali Fedetowsky continues her quest to purge herself of her awful maiden name. She does a poor job with her voiceover telling us that she’s SO excited to be dating 17 guys but, in spite SO much pressure, she’s feeling SO confident.
SO what?
Like I said last week, Ali just didn’t put in the work in the off season. Take some diction lessons, work out like it matters, and practice. It’s not like she had to be anywhere unrelated to the show for the past few months. She’s homeless and unemployed for God’s sake. Please come up with another adverb besides “SO.” There are SO many other options.
Cut to the Macho Palace. After some macho mimosas (if that’s even possible) to get the macho morning moving, the guys are instructed to go upstairs and put on their best macho pastel Armani Exchange t-shirts and True Religion jeans before convening in the living room where Harrison tees up the episode. Harrison emerges unassumingly in his untucked oxford gingham shirt and black slacks to announce that there will be 1 group date and 2 individual dates. The macho tension is palpable as everyone except Roberto and his warm up jacket grips hard at the possibility of not getting one of the coveted one-on-one dates. True to form, Harrison plants the seed of conflict by letting us know that these dates are “double edged swords” because each invitee has a chance of being summarily dismissed by our pouty-lipped and wide-hipped bachelorette. He drops the date card to the wolves and makes his exit.
“Get Hefner on the phone. Tell him to have the grotto ready. I want the oldest thing in there to be my 21 year old single malt scotch,” he barks as he leaves the mansion.
Two things: First, Harrison could relax a bit on the less than subtle phallic imagery. There’s already enough testosterone floating around in that house to impregnate a female octogenarian. Second, I know Ali isn’t fat and I don’t think she’s carrying a wide load. However, there are many valid points to be made about her caboose. Humor me.
Hunter assumes Gia’s last season duties as Really Important Card Reader and reads the “All Signs Point to Love” date card aloud as we find out that Frank and his glasses get the first one-on-one date. He and his Member’s Only jacket understandably celebrate. Incidentally, I naively thought that Frank’s jacket would be the worst jacket featured in this episode. I think we all know I was incredibly wrong. More about that later.
There’s some standard guys-who-didn’t-get-a-date-sitting-around-the-mansion-talking-strategy talk and we cut to Ali’s voiceover reaffirming this season’s theme about her “second chance at love” as she gets ready for her big date with Frank by donning a (*yawn*) yellow tank top, pedal pushers, and purple, low top, Chuck Taylor sneakers. I found myself wondering if she was preparing for a dress rehearsal for a way off Broadway production of Grease and then realized that if that were true, she would have picked Justin for the first date since Danny Zuco didn’t wear lesbian glasses. Ali braids her hair, covers her big bottom lip in gloss, and leaves her love nest to pick up Frank.
As the men sit around the pool in pseudo-aviator sunglasses, v-neck t-shirts, board shorts, and choker necklaces exchanging “one time I nailed this chick” stories, Ali enters to a chorus of underserved Ooooo’s and Ahhhh’s and Frank looks happier than a prisoner in steel underwear as Ali follows direction by giving Frank an understated version of the Jillian leg wrap greeting. Frank rubs it in just enough to not offend anyone before leaving to see the turquoise, convertible, late 50’s Thunderbird he and Ali will soon be using to sit in gridlock traffic on the 105. We see a shot of the Weatherman’s disappointment and assume it’s because the car was the same color as one of his ties. Ali and Frank pull away to the sound of more cat calls and a shot of Justin hobbling in his white Capri pants, black muscle shirt, and dog tags behind the rest of the men. I was confused by the Capri pants and muscle shirt prior to seeing the dog tags and realizing that Justin had evidently joined the gay army.
Apparently under the long-standing “Bachelorette” tradition that anytime a person rides sans seatbelt in a fancy convertible it is necessary to raise his/her arms and give a loud “whooooo” before announcing how “amazing” it is to ride in a convertible, Frank and Ali “whoooo” all over the place and “amazing” each other to death before the car finally gets sick of it and shuts down. Ali “oh my God’s” like SO many times I actually thought the DVR was stuck. Frank and his glasses sit there looking useless and as they abandon the car on the 105 in favor of a walk we see how short Frank is before someone calls a cab.
Come on, Frank. You’re a guy. At least pretend to examine the engine or drop some car lingo like, “it must be the alternator” or “maybe the plugs fouled.” Don’t just sit there like Gay J. Foyt. In spite of the speed bump, Ali is proud of Frank for “going with it.” In a flashback moment, we see Ali’s rats’ nest hair reminiscent of last season when that d-bag from Denton made her wear a motorcycle helmet on their first date.
When they arrive in the slum that is Hollywood, Ali immediately draws “unwanted” attention in front of Mann’s Chinese Theater and she and Frank mug for the camera. The best part about that exchange was the poor cowboy in the background with the video camera who had no idea who they were. He came there looking for the Walk of Fame stars of Gene Autry and Johnny Cash and ended up on the “Bachelorette”.
After successfully turning the date into a cross-promotional publicity stunt (nice job PR Department), the Producers order Ali and Frank into another dirty cab and they go to a secret location in the Hollywood Hills for more romance. We then return to the mansion to check the blowout preventers and gauge the tension between the men.
We cut to a shot of this season’s biggest complainer, Craig R., whining to Justin again about not being sincere and some other nonsense about not telling him about his pro wrestling career as McCheesy (Craig M.) stands by watching. Tick, tick, tick, tick. . .
Ali and Frank arrive behind a secured fence line and break into the locked gate as Ali does that annoying giggling thing that is apparently impossible to edit out of her comments. They giggle knowingly down the hill and end up in front of the Hollywood sign where Frank’s hair gel continues to provide maximum hold and Ali attempts to hide the blemish on her chin. Frank retells the moving to Paris to be a screenwriter story, lets us know that he “left it all behind” in search of his dream. Yes, he followed his heart. Frank tells Ali that he was following his heart in Paris “for like a month and a half.” Really? Six weeks. Riding the momentum he’s created, Frank moves in for the kiss in spite of the giant zit on Ali’s chin and he appears to be falling in love. I have to admit that I like Frank. He’s been the only ballsy one since the first day and—assuming Ali is a prize—he’s clearly been rewarded for it.
Ali pretends to appreciate and understand Frank’s six week quest for Nirvana by ignoring reality and characterizing herself as “SO career driven.” They cuddle some more in front of the sign and exchange some more staged kisses. Nothing says sweet love quite like a date consisting of no lunch, no limo, no drinks, a broken down late model car, and an illegal trespass. I hope Harrison at least picked up the cab fare.
Miraculously, the car was not stripped and sold for scrap and Frank and Ali get it back. We see Ali looking like a low rent Sandra Dee as she accessorizes her tired yellow tank and pedal pushers with a black leather jacket. She and Frank pretend to be comfortable in their booty socks on the hood of their junker as they share more “oh my God’s,” cupcakes, and champagne. It was nice of the mechanic to pack a picnic basket for them. Frank procures a rose and ensures his safety in the upcoming rose ceremony because Ali likes “like four things” about him. He’s funny, smart, quirky, and -------. Well, three things. We are glad for Frank and hope his retail career is as a manager of either the Gap or Old Navy since Ali appears to be comfortable in their clothes. If Ali qualifies for his 30% employee discount, he should let her know before the finale. Nice job, Frank. You’ll be around a while. Just pray that Roberto is the one with the girlfriend.
Back to the mansion. We learn that Weatherman, Ty, Chris H., Kirk, Hunter, Tyler V., Steve, Craig R., Chris N., Justin, Kasey, and McCheesy get the group date. “Picture us Together” is the clue and the Weatherman forecasts McCheesy’s demise. We get a foreboding shot of McCheesy looking like he just won a Gin Rummy tournament in Miami Beach with his playfully unbuttoned oxford shirt and his Sammy Davis, Jr. hat. The guy screams A-hole and, unlike seasons past where it could be argued that people received a “bad edit,” it becomes abundantly clear that this guy is the real deal. Craig drinks, insults and attacks the Weatherman and Jesse for no apparent reason, drinks, attempts to bully everyone, drinks, and continues to drink.
Date two begins with a shot of Ali’s midsection meandering around Malibu. She’s wearing a bikini top and, of course, cargo pants to secure the extra cargo in her pants. In a moment of sheer perfection, the guys pull up in a Hummer limousine—a ride befitting the gorilla-like behavior oozing from their pores. Incidentally, driving a Hummer is like living in Dallas: It’s nothing to be proud of. Thank God GM took that brand behind the shed and put it out of its misery. I’m sure that guys who own gyms will find something to drive instead.
Ali is greeted with mating calls as she stands there shyly with her hands in her pockets waiting for the sword fight for attention to begin. She lets us know that we’re in “Malibu where it’s like a beautiful day.” At least she didn’t use “So.” The men exit the limo carrying drinks in one hand and salamis in the other and proceed to do their best Ali on a date with Frank impression by rolling up their True Religion and Seven jeans and walking down the beach with Ali. We wonder if they sell men’s clothes for men where any of these guys shop. McCheesy appropriately wears a cheese-colored, v-neck tank he borrowed from Ali, Justin hops around on his crutches, and we find out that the guys will be wearing Speedos for the photo shoot. Despite this “surprise” we breathe a deep sigh of relief as we realize that all of the guys have shaved and waxed in all of the appropriate places.
Weatherman calls McCheesy a d*ck and a jerkoff and then almost cries about having to wear a Speedo. Ty, Hunter, and Craig R. make the most of it before Ty breaks out his fortuitously present guitar and sings this season’s “It Don’t Take that Long” entitled “Living in a Moment,” while Ali melts; once again proving that the beating anyone takes as a kid for taking music lessons pays off in spades as an adult. The shoot ends with feats of strength, more of the Weatherman putting his sexuality in doubt, and more of McCheesy setting up the final battle between himself and the Weatherman.
Cut to the dinner portion of the date. As the cheese chariot arrives and the men exit we get a slow motion shot of them in their Lucky jeans, starched, untucked shirts, and choker necklaces walking side by side. It looked like a gay version of that Reservoir Dogs scene. Meanwhile, Justin hobbles and worries aboot being the odd man oot. You’d think that they would have heard about the vowel “U” in Canada by now. Odd.
High on the success of his new song, Ty and his giant choker get Ali alone and he gives her the “I’m divorced” talk. She pretends to buy it. Ty, trim your Luke Perry sideburns and stick to the guitar. You’re fine. Oh, and buy a comb too. The Weatherman escalates the trash talk about McCheesy as we see McCheesy priming the pump and working himself and his pink shirt into a macho frenzy by belting down beer after beer and becoming more aggressive toward everyone. In a moment of pure “Bachelorette” gold, the Weatherman fights back tears and refers to McCheesy as a “Category 6 A**hole” before breaking out his white Beat It jacket and going to co*k block Ty.
What in the world was going on with that jacket? If that doesn’t push him out of the closet, it certainly unlocks the door. It might as well have been covered in sequins. The Weatherman meets with Ali, tattles on McCheesy, looks as gay as ever, and eventually thanks Ali for letting him borrow her coat. After realizing how feminine he looked in that jacket he does some damage “I’m straight” control in his one-on-one by insincerely going on about how hot Ali looked. He returns to the bar and orders a tall and stiff drink. I suppose he likes his drinks like he likes his men. McCheesy continues to pile on while the others sit around and laugh. I think you’ll all agree that it got old.
Cut back to the house where Chris L., Frank, Jesse, and Roberto are all sitting around doing nothing. Frank—still high after his low rent date with Ali—reads the date card and opens a set of monogrammed cufflinks. After they figure out Jesse’s initials are different from theirs, they figure out that Jesse has won the coveted one-on-one date proving that Roberto and Chris L. are at the top of the Ali’s food chain. Back to the party.
Justin hobbles in for some alone time with Ali. She “likes him” but seems a little tipsy. It’s not every season that our maiden is a lush. That’s nice to know. Craig R. continues to whine and whine and whine about just about everything. Kasey, dressed in a black shirt and sport coat with a silky grey tie probably not unlike the guy who chauffeured the limo, reminds us that he’s creepy (tick, tick, tick). “It puts the lotion in the basket or it gets the hose again,” he says as he tells Ali that he’s been kidnapping husky women for the past few months. Despite Justin and Kasey’s efforts a tipsy Ali gives Ty the date rose adding to the return on investment for his guitar lessons. Divorce Schmorce. He’s in.
Time for Date 3. We cut to Jesse and his overdone tribal art tattoos getting ready for his one-on-one. Ali primps in front of the mirror before donning another tank top and skinny jeans that accentuate her badonkadonk and loading up her giant purse and walking amongst the cacti and yucca bushes to meet Jesse. She awaits him in front of a private plane and tells him that they are going to Vegas for the evening. Everything is “SO” everything and they board in spite of her fear of flying. Jesse “makes her feel safe” aboard the private plane by holding her hand. I’m sure the Big Bopper did the same thing to Buddy Holly. They land in Vegas and hop into a convertible Ferrari for some “whoooo” action shots. Ali again forgets her scrunchy as we endure shots of them whooo hooing down the Vegas strip to cliché Brat Pack music and the standard shots of Vegas. They both looked uncomfortable with each other.
Ali tells us that they are headed to the pool at Liquid and “like no one has ever been here before.” Well, if you exclude the location scouts, contractors, architects, crew, and various mobsters, I suppose she’s correct. We get another look at Jesse’s tribal tattoos in his board shorts and I wondered if there was an entire tribe of contractors in Peculiar, Missouri with similar artwork. Ali emerges from the changing room in a hot pink bikini top and—you guessed it—a sarong covering her trailer proving that her rear end is certainly bigger than Jillian’s. They eat oysters, which Jesse hates and she drops “nice guy” on him a few times before she loses the sarong behind a strategically placed shrubbery and quickly submerges herself in the pool. They frolic.
After the pool, Jesse eventually figures out the single Windsor knot and awaits Ali in her Rain Man Suite. He actually cleaned up nicely. Too bad his personality didn’t match his looks. She emerges with her hair in a bun looking underwhelming in another poorly fitting Linda Evans-esque gown with a bedazzled collar and a really weird neckline. I’m a dude and even I could see the dress didn’t fit her. They go to a private suite for a candlelight dinner where she “nice guys” him some more. Clearly, she wasn’t interested but Jesse garnered another rose with some “I’m from a small town” talk. They eventually go to Haze nightclub for a private performance by some guy no one has ever heard of and some awful dancing. Jesse is a nice guy, but she doesn’t dig him. He’ll last another week or so.
Back at the house McCheesy drinks and plays dress up in the Weatherman’s clothes. Liquored up from dinner, Ali eventually shows up in a bedazzled silky dress thing with another weird collar and Chris L. steals some alone time to exchange regional banter and quell his insecurity. You’re safe, dude. Relax.
As if he needed it, Roberto gets some one-on-one time while Craig R. whines about it again. Ali giggles like a drunken sorority girl as Roberto fishes with dynamite. Armed with Spanish Fly and disarming good looks, he tells Ali casually, “I travel the world and play baseball,” and Ali eats it up as if it was her first meal in days. They play catch and he teaches her how to throw a knuckleball. If he’s not the guy with the girlfriend, the others are light years behind. Frank fights through Attention Deficit Disorder to comment on Ali and Kasey fights through his desire to tuck in front of the mirror. Craig R. complains again and almost cries when Frank is assertive enough to get yet another kiss. John C. emerges from obscurity, Weatherman pinky drinks his cocktails, and McCheesy stews in alcohol and testosterone.
Ali eventually slams the door shut on McCheesy by confronting him with the “dangerous” accusations. He fumbles around like a school boy in the principal’s office and seals his fate. No hug, no kiss equals No Rose. See ya, sh*thead. Frankly, I would have liked to see her (and the producers) embarrass him a little more. It’s not every day that a jerk that big gets put in his place. After the meeting, McCheesy makes an attempt to call out the Weatherman in front of the guys but the damage is done. We all know a guy like this and we were all glad to know he’d gotten his comeuppance.
Latent Homosexuals 2
Angry Guys Still 0
Chris N., the silent “entrepreneur” from wherever, FINALLY gets to speak a line that the Producers gave him and we all appreciate his Justin Bieber hair but struggle to remember his name. For the record, I had to look it up.
With the stage set, Harrison emerges with the ubiquitous champagne glass and fork looking annoyed he had to stay late because of McCheesy’s guy meeting and puts an end to the penis measuring contest. Thank God. Ali retires to the Lair of Seclusion and does a poor job of acting like she’s trying to make a decision between the macho antics of McCheesy and the not so macho antics of the Weatherman. Harrison states the obvious in his standard issue black suit accented nicely by a soft pink patterned oxford. He shows the guys how to make a dotted tie work and then leaves for a beer run before the liquor store closes.
Frank, Ty, and Jesse were safe from elimination this week thanks to successful date performances. The remaining roses were as follows:
1. Kasey (tick, tick, tick . . .)
2. Hunter (he cashed in the remaining mileage on his ukulele serenade. He’d better step it up next week)
3. Roberto (She might as well have pinned the rose on his junk)
4. Chris L. (Nice guy. He’s still got the deceased mom ammo in his belt)
5. Justin (She seems to really like him. Either that or the cast is that effective)
6. Steve (Short and quiet. He’d better bring it next week)
7. Kirk (innocuously nice guy. We’ll see how he does)
8. John C. (this season’s dial tone. Jump in front of the camera, dude)
9. Craig R. (the resident tattle tale and complainer. I wish he’d go)
10. Chris N. (we discovered that he’s not mute. His looks will get him only so far)
11. Weatherman (Congrats. You survived a Category 6 A**hole. We all owe you. Oh and for those of you who didn’t notice, he was wearing a rose in the shot prior to him getting one. Nice editing)
Eliminated were Tyler V., McCheesy, and some other guy. Tyler V., go home and work on your game. You’re a nice guy. I won’t dignify McCheesy’s exit speech other than to say it was what we all expected. See you later, Jerk.
With the Amazing count at an incredible 48 (yes, in just 2 episodes), we head into next week. Until then, if you need me, I’ll be taking guitar lessons. DP
Hahahahahahahahahaha, just as amazing as I anticipated. LOVE your blog. Will definitely be reading you every season of this trainwreck.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mallory. You're an amazing reader. Enjoy. DP
ReplyDeleteI find your blog more entertaining than the show itself. Thanks! I would have quit watching the show last season if my SIL hadn't told me about your blog!
ReplyDeleteHad NO IDEA who John C and Chris N were. Had to look them both up. And the third guy who got eliminated, who the heck was that???
ReplyDeleteMaybe now that Hurricane Hair is gone we can concentrate on the wonder that is Robert-O. He is too cute for his own good and he doesn't even really seem to be trying. Suave, very suave!
Nice recap.
Great blog - totally enjoyed it! Actually, I think it was amazing!
ReplyDeleteThe 3rd guy who got eliminated may not have had a name or a voice, but he was a lot cuter than John C and Craig R. Weird selections.
Ahhh, the weatherman's jacket. I was looking to see if he had the white glove, too. Great blog! M
ReplyDeleteI told someone today that the main, if not only reason, I watch this show is to read your SO amazing blog. hilarious! SO amazing. in the last week I've told several of my amazing friends to read it, but only if they are here to read it for the right reasons. McCheesy may be the biggest DB in show history, and that's saying something. unnecessary cheap shot at Dallas though :-)
ReplyDeleteCraig is hella cheesy, but the biggest DB distinction now and forever remains with Jake. Honestly, can't wait for next Tues. because this column is far and away the most entertaining part of the show.
ReplyDeleteI ditto lindsey's comment... I watch the show so I can thoroughly appreciate your recaps!
ReplyDeleteThanks for making me look like a crazy person laughing to myself at work!!!
ReplyDeleteHere's an interesting tidbit about Ali- she actually was Phi Beta Kappa in college. I am going to chock all of the giggling up to nerves and not a lack of actual gray matter between her ears or a seepage of bleach and extension bonding glue into her head.
ReplyDeleteHonestly, I actually don't hate Ali. She seems like a regular person- not the prettiest, somewhat insecure, sometimes awkward chick. She was a college athlete so I understand not necessarily being the most comfortable in gowns.
"I’m sure the Big Bopper did the same thing to Buddy Holly."
ReplyDeleteBwah!
Nancy, nothing like a Buddy Holly reference, huh? Lindsey, you're clearly a nice person. Yes, I think Ali is attractive, but I'm poking fun at the show and the way it's put together. My philosophy is that a shot across the bow is appropriate and the occassional jab is alright. I try not to be outright mean unless someone like McCheesy clearly deserves it. Thanks for reading.
ReplyDeleteI hooked on to this blog from Lincee's. Much obliged to find out that not all the guys in Texas are dirt bags - heh. Since you've been finding Ali's out of shape bod so disturbing, I have to share something with you that might just make you suicidal. In an interview, she said she gained 10 pounds while filming the show. So get ready for it, there is much more of Ali to come. Wahaha!
ReplyDeletelyndie22, Thanks for reading. Just to clarify, I do not find Ali "out of shape." My point relates to the fact that if I had 4 months of unlimited time and resources before I went on national TV in a bathing suit, I'd do my homework. Ali is attractive, but she looked more fit and more attractive last season. With Jillian, it was the opposite. With that said, I'm sure she's enjoying the room service. Thanks again for paying attention! DP
ReplyDeleteReally enjoy your blog. Some golden nuggets that made me LOL:
ReplyDelete"Miraculously, the car was not stripped and sold for scrap and Frank and Ali get it back."
"High on the success of his new song, Ty and his giant choker get Ali alone..."
"Ali retires to the Lair of Seclusion and does a poor job of acting like she’s trying to make a decision..."
Some Guy,
ReplyDeleteYou're just gonna have to get used to the ladies raping you of your sense of humor and questioning "How can you say that?" when you're CLEARLY being amusing! Ladies, I mean no offense by this, but if you're a fan of Lincee's, you know that there's ALWAYS a handful who have to be soooo analytical and whiney about something hilarious that she says. Some guy! Stand tall and be proud of your raunchy, awesome sense of humor and make no apologies!!! ;)
Just by way of clarification, I do not think you are overly harsh or mean at all. In fact, I think this blog is beyond hilarious and wildly astute. After 20 seasons of this show, I by no means believe that anyone goes on this show without an ulterior motive of some sort so good natured ribbing should be expected. Plus, I am from New England, where sarcasm and teasing are the truest signs of affection so it would take much more than what you are saying to be considered harsh.
ReplyDeleteStacey and Lindsey, Do I have to come up there and give you guys a hug?
ReplyDeleteI chalk it up to the lawyer in me that compels me to hyperclarify things completely unnecessarily...and use words like heretofore and promissory estoppel whenever possible. I also am spending an inordinate amount of time avoiding writing a brief so randomly and needlessly commenting on a blog somehow satisfies that goal.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I try to steer clear of being a sense of humor rapist whenever possible :-)
can you comment on the fact that the speedo photo shoot was to make a calender "for charity and like, to support a really good cause"? who the f*ck is going to buy that?
ReplyDeleteGood point, Amy. However, with 13 million viewers per episode even if 1% of the audience is pathetic enough to buy the calendar, they should have plenty of money for charity. I'm certain the Weatherman will have one up in his cubicle. DP.
ReplyDeleteWith your blog and your followers at my side I am able to go forward and do what I could not face alone — watch this show.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
Great recap! I'm calling it right now...Ricardo will be in the top 3. The dude oozes confidence in an unassuming way. Heck! Even I find him charming and dark-eyed guys are not my thing. I prefer tall blondes.
ReplyDeleteYes. Roberto! Unless he has a wife and 3 kids at home in Charleston...the dude (and his dimples) are golden.
ReplyDelete