Ali Bachelorette Episode 5: Stone Cold Crazy

Hello and welcome back. It’s been one week since the last recap and boy has a lot happened. We begin with our usual recap of the recap and just in case we all missed it, we get a montage of last week’s episode when Krasey was pushed ever closer to the edge of sanity. This week promises international travel, geysers, volcanoes, natural hot springs, and brushes with confused foreign white people.

But first, in other Bachelor news, I’d like to thank my reader Mallory for being the first of many to send me the not-so-shocking news that the D-Bag from Denton, Jake Pavelka, and that tramp he picked over the virginal Tenley have broken up. I’m crushed. It will be refreshing to hear them pretend to wish each other well after their contrived, phony relationship ended. Vienna will finally have a reason to show us her long face. I know it’s wishful thinking but I wish Jake would just go back to building gazebos in the backyard of his starter home in Denton. Fat chance. For tonight anyway, in some lonely studio sits Tenley crafting an interpretive dance in an attempt to make sense of it all. I’ll give Vienna credit for at least waiting until Jake collected his last Dancing with the Stars check to dump his ass. I’m sure she’ll attempt to secure a host position on some B-list cable network but will ultimately end up back in the swamps of Florida working in her parents’ meth lab. Such is the folly of love. Whatever.

In the meantime, let’s get to it.

Upon hearing that they are headed to Iceland, half of the men wonder if that’s a country or a theme park. Their questions are answered when they leave New York and we begin with the men aboard the Icelandair jetliner mugging for the camera in coach awaiting their arrival while Harrison undoubtedly downs his fifth scotch and water in up in First Class. This week’s soon-to-be Nashville star, Ty from Tennessee, tells us that he gets chills (I know, although it escaped Ty, the irony killed me too) at the prospect of going to Iceland. He’s pretty sure that no one ever dreamt of one day going to Iceland in search of love. Well, Ty, apparently the entire staff at ABC dreamt of it about 8 months ago. Details.

After sneaking his chloroform and his favorite snuffin’ rags through customs, Krasey continues teetering on the edge of sanity by showing off his tattoo to the Unabomber—that might have been Chris L. in his ridiculous hoodie—saying that he will break out the tattoo to Ali at the “right place and right time.” Whatever you say, Van der Sloot. Whatever you say. By the way, someone might want to check Krasey’s travel schedule to see if he was in Aruba around the time Van der Sloot got picked up for the Holloway disappearance. As the Five-O would say, “I like him for it.”

Moving on, Roberto gets some dimple time and we see panoramic views of a bunch of freaking ice before we cut to Ali meandering the streets of Reykjavik extolling Iceland’s virtues in her red jacket, scarf, black stretchy pants, and Elmer Fudd hat. In an effort to dumb it down for everyone without access to a globe, we are unnecessarily reminded that Iceland is a European island country located in the North Atlantic Ocean on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. Thanks, ABC.

Ali busts out the black turtleneck that Jake wore on his Coit Tower date with Tenely for her close up and uses the word “magical” to describe Iceland. I was pleased to know that we finally found a place where black turtlenecks and 30 foot scarves are appropriate. Ali actually looked rested and pretty and I was pleased to know that the make-up crew made the trip.

Proving that he wasn’t about to simply phone it in, Harrison makes his first appearance in his fleece pullover, untucked blue picnic table shirt, jeans, and suede Converse sneakers. He’s young and playful, but he’s clearly here on business. Harrison doesn’t leave the confines of the LA mansion for nothing. The men show up in jeans, jackets, and their own Elmer Fudd hats. Harrison probably had access to one of those but he sure as hell wasn’t about to wear it.

Harrison tells us that there are 3 dates this week: one group date, the dreaded Beyond Thunderdome two men enter one man leaves two-on-one date, and the coveted one-on-one date. Simple, right? No way. Hold you’re Elmer Fudd hat. This week’s one-on-one will be determined when Ali selects her date based on the quality of a personalized love poem. Slide in some Icelandic words is the suggestion and the men stress over having just one hour to write it. One hour to write a stupid poem is stressful? I write this thing in about 3 hours in the middle of the night. I should have applied for a consultant job on that show. Even Krasey spontaneously rhymed “pretty” with “city” last week.

Love pads and love pencils are conveniently provided and Harrison splits with a few of the crew members in order to kill a couple of pitchers at the Reykjavik Hooters before returning to move things forward.

Kirk proves he took his Dramamine on the plane and downed some Red Bulls in the morning in the by being Tony Robbins motivated. Roberto wonders if any Icelandic words rhyme with “dimples” and Krasey smiles when he realizes that “volcano” goes well with “insane-o.” In what will prove to be a good week for Frank, he gets creative by attempting to meet the locals and gather a few Icelandic terms before realizing that no Icelandic words rhyme with anything. Justin, Kirk, Chris L., and Roberto try the same thing by accosting the locals and we are reminded of why everyone hates America.

In an effort to ease international tensions, Harrison finishes getting his new Women of Iceland Hooters calendar signed and arrives back at the square just in time to quell the harassment. Frank confidently tells us that he’s written a few love poems in his time and we wonder if he quit his job and left the states for a few weeks to do it. Chris N. and his odd hat choice tell us that “he’s got no experience writing poems.” What? He has little experience talking. It’s obvious that he’s on the chopping block this week. They should have just made an ice sculpture of him with that stupid hat on and saved the airfare. The effect would have been identical. Clearly, this week is shaping up to be the Justin vs. Krasey week. More about that later.

In anticipation of the poetry contest Ali tips her “I have Daddy issues” hand and opines that it’s “difficult for guys to express their feelings, especially in poetry.” I think maybe Shakespeare, Bacon, Joyce, Wordsworth, Longfellow, and Whitman might disagree. Hell, even I can express my feelings in poetry. By way of example, the following Haiku expresses my feelings about this season’s Bachelorette.

Stupid dating show
Fools fighting for average chick
Roberto wins big

See, it’s not THAT difficult.

Back to the Poetry Slam. Clearly the most unattractive of the remaining guys, Craig R. whines some more about never having a one-on-one date and we presume that in high school he was voted Most Likely to Masturbate. Harrison rounds up the budding wordsmiths and we see Ali and her stretch pants run into the picture. Was it me or did she run weird? She looked like she either had to pee or was playing that stupid baby shower game where you put a quarter between your knees and waddle across the room to try and drop it in a glass.

In an effort to cover up her awkward gait, we cut to Ty who makes the amorphous and innocuous statement that Ali “could pretty much rock anything she wears.” Frankly, I really didn’t care what came out of Ty’s mouth this week. I was just glad that I didn’t have to look at that giant turtle choker.

The poetry reading commences and Craig R. whines in Icelandic but actually makes Ali laugh. The guy did well this week because he finally relaxed a little. Krasey drops more of his “guard and protect” nonsense and I was reminded of a saying we have here in Texas. It’s called Deja Moo. That’s the feeling that you’ve heard this bulls*it before. His poem sucked and Ali could barely stomach it. Ty did alright and Justin was terrible. Chris L. got a laugh and Chris N. proved that he should have remained silent. Proving that they learn by watching, Kirk and Frank attempt to out Roberto Roberto by stealing his patented Look Directly at Ali and Approach Her While Reading move. Speaking of Roberto, his poem was not very good. I choose to believe that he purposely threw the competition in an effort to make things appear interesting. So he can’t rhyme in Icelandic; he already speaks all of the really cool languages.

In a rare occurrence, Harrison sticks around through the contest before going back to the Reykjavik Hooters to view the quality of the new girls after the afternoon shift change and get some more autographs on his calendar. Citing the aforementioned Roberto move, Ali selects Kirk for the one-on-one. He wins with class as Krasey continues his slide down the slippery slope and Frank—who looks a lot like Ryan Seacrest when he’s not wearing his Coke bottle glasses--wallows in crippling jealousy. Frank takes in the beauty of Iceland and wonders if he should quit his job as a retail manager and move there for six weeks in order write screenplays before returning home to live with his parents.

It’s first date time and Ali freezes to death on a statue before Kirk and his orange hunting jacket show up to greet her. It’s a shame he didn’t pair his Elmer Fudd hat with that jacket. It would have really tied the entire ensemble together. Ali and last week’s gray silky dress and that weird hair thing that didn’t hold her hair back comment on Kirk. We assume everyone else is preoccupied wooking for wabbits.

Kirk and Ali invade a local sweater shop and poke fun at the local culture by mocking the inventory. They eventually settle on matching sweaters and Kirk tells us that he “feels like a bit of a cheeseball.” Ironic, considering he’s from Wisconsin. He didn’t look like a bit of a cheeseball. He looked like a really big cheeseball. Matching sweaters? Really? Kirk and Ali leave the shop looking like an Aryan version of Donnie and Marie and go to feed the disgusting flock of geese nearby. Nothing screams romance like a flock of disease carrying, angrily tempered, filthy birds.

After fending off the avian flu, Kirk and Ali retire to a local coffee shop and we learn that Ali suspects that Kirk has *gasp* a history. Kirk blocks her attempts to pry with his Livestrong bracelet and we learn that Ali will soon get to the bottom of the issue. Speaking of the bottom of the issue, we get a shot of Ali’s trailer as she and Kirk walk arm in arm away from the coffee shop. She looked as good as she’s looked all season this week, but it’s impossible to hide that thing, even with a fancy sweater.

Back at the Reykjavik Hilton in the guy chamber we learn that Roberto, Chris L., Chris N., Craig R., Ty, and Frank get the group date and the Justin vs. Krasey showdown is confirmed. Frank states the obvious by saying that Justin and Krasey don’t like each other and Justin proves that he’s under the delusion that fake wrestling is like real wrestling by spouting off some ridiculous wresting metaphors and telling us that he’s aboot to take Krasey oot.

Kirk and Ali arrive at some lobster place and Ali says her lines, giving Kirk the set up for his big secret. After an endless lead in, Kirk FINALLY gets to the big punch line. Ali fights through her obvious boredom and learns that Kirk was afflicted with—I’m not kidding here---“mold sickness.” Good God. Look, I went through a health scare once and it was awful, but come on. We waited five weeks for mold sickness? Kirk, I’m glad you’re alright, but dude, lose that story in the future or at least throw in an experimental gay tryst or something. Mold sickness. Tenley had “I was a virgin until my cheating ex-husband married me.” Chris L. had “I left my life in New York to return home and care for my sick mother.” Roberto had “I speak all of the romantic languages, play baseball, and travel the world with my dimples.” Kirk? Mold sickness.

Glad that the story has come to an end and obviously certain that mold sickness is not contagious, Ali sucks face with Kirk and he shares more of his feelings. We learn that Ali is inspired by mold sickness and we also learn that when it comes to wooing a nubile bachelorette, Mold Sickness stories are equivalent to “I play baseball and travel the world” and “my mother passed away” stories. Kirk gets the rose he earned.

We cut to Frank and Krasey in their dimly lit hotel room where Frank opines that Krasey is “near the edge.” I’m pretty certain Krasey hasn’t seen the edge since he leaped over it a long time ago, but it was nice of Frank to pretend that Krasey had a modicum of sanity left. Frank—used to dealing with whackos since he worked with Paula Abdul on Idol—listens to Krasey who says, “if I’m not here for love, I don’t know why I’m here.” The answer is, of course, for the ratings, Krasey. Frank sees an opportunity and encourages Krasey to debut the tattoo. “It’s your time to shine,” he tells Krasey.

“I’m Kasey Kale. I’m a dreamer and a believer. It’s what I do.” Krasey tells us. Yea, well I’m pretty sure Charles Manson believed in his dreams too. Tap the brakes, Krasey. Tap the brakes.

Memo to Krasey—“I am physically ill” works. “I’m mentally ill” does not.

Group date. We see Ali standing in the cold holding 8 Shetland ponies waiting for the guys to arrive. I was going to say she froze her ass off, but upon further inspection, that clearly didn’t happen. The men arrive and Ty takes over. He’s been around horses before and, like Frank with Krasey, sees an opportunity to get ahead. Frank and Roberto give him credit and the men don matching jumpsuits looking like a stupid version of The Right Stuff.

In an effort to examine the healthcare system of Iceland, Justin “spontaneously” decides to have his cast removed believing it will give him an advantage over Krasey. Actually, his sanity was sufficient, but why gamble, right?

Back in the tundra, Ty continues to master the group date and prove that guys from the South are cooler than guys who live in big cities and eat lobster all day. He helps Ali with her horse and Frank, Chris L., and Craig R. sit there like pawns on a chess board watching the King work. They get to a cave and Ty assists Ali in getting her strap on. Wait a minute…oh, nevermind. Chris L., sensing that Ty is closing in on the rose, steps up and goes into the cave first. Nice move. Ali is next and Chris L. coughs up his gloves for some valuable alone time. Ali notices Frank’s lack of Alpha Maleness and proving that she is, in fact, ready for marriage she makes a mental note nag him about it later. All of them explore the ice cave with headlamps, except Roberto who simply smiled and used his dimples to light his way.

After some much needed hot chocolate at the base of the freaking Arctic Circle, the group travels via bus to the magical Blue Lagoon hot spring. Ali drops the snowsuit and busts out the bikini revealing her own version of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. I’ll give her credit, she looked great. Not surprisingly, Roberto is the first to lose los pantalones and he and the other men join Ali in the springs for some booze and banter. Ali gets some alone time with Frank to bust his balls about not stepping up and Frank proves his husband worthiness by sincerely saying the three words that every married woman longs to hear: “You’re absolutely right.” Ali gives the frosty rose to Ty. Like Kirk before him, he earned it. Nice job, Ty. Davy Crockett would be proud (he’s from Tenessee too).

In a prepared scene, Kirk and his Affliction shirt (also ironic considering his mold ‘affliction’) talk to Krasey about Justin as Justin overhears and pretends he’s still in the fake wrestling ring. The date card comes and Kirk reads it. “Let’s Explore the Fire and Ice.” Justin makes the most of the spongy mess that once was Krasey’s brain by getting in his head with some macho banter and we wait patiently knowing that Krasey will soon be eliminated.

We cut to the Reykjavik Hilton where Krasey gets some pre-date advice from Frank who encourages him to show Ali that ridiculous tattoo. Justin throws his sh*t in a suitcase and off they go. Ali and her new Barbarella extensions restate the Two Men Enter, One Man Leaves rules of the Two-on-One date and Krasey begins to boil over like a Reykjavik volcano.

Incidentally, the band Duran Duran (undoubtedly one of the Weatherman’s favorites) was named after a character in the movie Barbarella. I love it when things come together like that. Annnnyyyyhoooo. . .

Ali awaits the guys in front of another helicopter proving that her “fear” of flying was always a bunch of horses*it. Justin gets points for losing the cast and Krasey hates it. He tells us that he’s got a tattoo proving that he’s willing to endure any physical pain in order to win Ali. Look, I’ve broken my ankle twice and I’ve got a bunch of tattoos. A broken ankle trumps a tattoo every time. What a nutjob.

The helicoper lands atop a Mt. Three’s a Crowd and the three of them get out to view it. Krasey contemplates the sacrifice of a virgin but then realizes there hasn’t been one available since the Weatherman got kicked off last week. Justin makes some more ridiculous wrestling metaphors and lets us know again that he’s aboot to take Krasey oot. He actually compares Ali to a fake wrestling championship belt and we realize that his victory will be short lived. He’s clearly the one with the alleged girlfriend. Jerk.

In the most meaningless statement since everything that Gia said last season, Krasey tells us that he’s nervous because he could be sitting next to his “potential future wife.” What? That’s like working at Wal-Mart and being named the Assistant to the Assistant Vice President. The three enter an ice cave with ice furniture and Krasey goes ootside while Justin talks to Ali aboot their future. Justin phones it in knowing that Krasey is aboot to seal his fate.

Ali tells us that the “only thing Krasey has to do today is be normal.” That’s like saying that the only thing that giant, lava spewing volcano has to do is stop erupting or telling Grace Kelly to control her automobile. After some more of that “guard and protect” nonsense, Krasey reveals the tattoo and Ali does an incredibly poor job of not laughing in his Krazy face before the horror of the situation sinks in. She walks Justin and Krasey out into the middle of the tundra like French soldiers at Waterloo, buries her head in her scarf like some weird Icelandic snow turtle, and finally puts Krasey out of his misery. She “really greats” him and tells him that he’s SO wonderful and SO ready for a woman and she knows he can give SO much.

SO long.

Justin and Ali leave him floundering around the ice field like a wounded baby seal and Krasey tells us that he doesn’t “know where it went wrong.” Reeeealllly? Watch the tape, dude. You’re a mess. We hope that he made it back to the cave for some serious counseling on the ice couch before being repopulated back in Clovis, California. Good luck, Kasey. Please get the help you need.

Back at the Ice Dome, the men sit around and pretend to care that Krasey’s gone and Ali enters in her black, off-the-shoulder evening gown with a giant rhinestone broach. She looked lovely. Frank—again showing he’s a fast learner—steps up for some alone time. I like Frank. I think we all do. Frank and Ali get some alone time and she actually seems to really open up to him. Frank earns the background piano music and a kiss. He’s validated and renewed again and should hang on for a while longer.

Craig R. is ugly and nervous again but gets points for drawing his own version of the guard and protect tattoo. Chris N. claims he’s funny and lets us know he loves Mexican food before dropping a “good talk” on Ali as Chris L. in his brand spanking new v-neck undershirt saves her from the agony of a forced conversation with him. Chris L. puts an extra cherry atop his rose sundae by letting Ali know that his dad is his hero. Good stuff, Chris L. Just don’t waste all of your ammo if you don’t need it.

Roberto still doesn’t tighten his tie because he doesn’t need to as he makes Ali giggle and squirm like a teenage girl at a Justin Bieber meet and greet. He pretends to not know he’s hot. Ali digs him.

Harrison shows up without the ubiquitous champagne glass and fork proving that I need to get another adjective to describe the glass and fork. Is “semi-ubiquitous” a word? Harrison sports a black jacket, white oxford, and a black plaid tie debuting his first double windsor knot of the season. Proving that he’s no empty suit (see Chris N.), Harrison whisks Ali away to the Lair of Seclusion in an attempt to get to the bottom of her daddy issues. Incidentally, if you look at my blog from last season when Ali brought Jake back to her hometown, you’ll see that I called the daddy issues from 1,500 miles away. Guys like Harrison and me can sense these sorts of things. It’s a gift.

Harrison is as swarmy as ever. He’s like a male Barbara Walters asking the tough questions and calling Ali out on her reticence. I can hear the pre-Iceland production meeting now.

Producer: Is this broad going to fall in love or what? We’ve got 4 shows left.

Harrison: Pack my black and white plaid tie and put me on the plane. Consider it taken care of. No, don’t worry about the champagne glass and fork.

Ali and Harrison play a game of psychoanalytic poker and Harrison forces Ali to tip her hand. She’s afraid of not being loved back. She’s holding the Ace of Daddy Didn’t Love Me Enough and the Seven of Daddy Broke My Heart. Harrison gets the job done as he gives Ali a Don’t F with Chris Harrison hug before leaving Ali to ponder the head shots of the remaining men in the Lair of Seclusion.

In the most predictable rose ceremony of all time, Ali boots the mute and Chris N. stoically meets his contractual obligation to say something in the limo before hopping on a plane back to Orlando and disappearing into obscurity. I doubt Dancing with the Stars will be calling him any time soon.

Kirk, Ty, and Justin enjoy their date roses and a relieved Frank gets a rose as do Chris L., Roberto, and Craig R., proving that the whiney wheel gets the rose. After the Justin girlfriend meltdown next week, my prediction is that Craig R. will be sent packing. . .finally.

There you have it. With the Amazing Count at an amazing 93, we pack our bags and head to Turkey next week where it appears to get very interesting. Let me know your thoughts by commenting below. Feel free to express them in Haiku form for everyone to enjoy. Until next week, if you need me, I’ll be expressing my feelings. DP