Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Bachelorette Recap Episode 9: Banger Isn't a City in Maine

Hello, Readers. Welcome back to this week’s installment of our least favorite, favorite show. Of course, in spite of the abhorrent bore that this season has become, we have reason to be excited this week. After all, it’s Fantasy Suite week and this is the episode that gives rampant promiscuity a bad name. We all know to expect more banging than an accidentally lit bag of fireworks and I, for one, couldn’t wait to see who won the worst in bed contest and got sent home this week.

Before we get down to brass tacks, I wanted to send this week’s shout out to my friends Adam and Gretchen in Sausalito, California. You see, Some Guy went off the grid for 4 days last week and they were gracious enough to open their beach house and their home despite the hoards of fans following my every move. Security was tight and, like Ames, I had to sneak in the back door, but I managed.

No phone, no email, and wonderful company for 4 glorious days. It was very liberating. Despite the beauty of Marin County and the incredible views in Napa and Sonoma, I always find joy in being back in Austin, Texas. You’ll all be happy to know that I plan to incorporate my new found wine knowledge into this week’s entry.

Finally, I wanted to address a person named “Jel” who commented on one of my earlier posts that he/she “has a strong intuition that I’m gay.” Thanks for commenting, Jel, but you need to have your strong intuition examined. The reason this blog works is precisely because I’m not gay. However, if I were gay, I’d be good at it. I’m just sayin’. With that out of the way, let’s get to it.

Again, I want to reiterate that this is my favorite show of the season and, despite Mr. Obama’s poorly timed speech, I actually enjoyed every minute of it. We began, as we always do, with sweeping shots of this week’s exotic location, Savusavu, Fiji. The root “savu” is, of course, from an ancient Fijian dialect meaning “to indiscriminately fornicate with a man one hardly knows.” We would soon find out why it’s repeated twice in the name.

After arriving to Fiji in “her” sea plane Ashley takes solace in the remaining days before her possible potential contingent engagement . . . maybe. She “educates” us concerning Fiji’s island status before wandering aimlessly amongst the flora and fauna in her Minnie Mouse outfit preparing herself to be thrice deflowered like a South Asian rice patty during the Vietnam War.

She primps, reflects, and “soooo impour-ants” every aspect of her “relationships” with the remaining men as we are treated to various versions of her smoky eyes and spray tans throughout the season. Ashley is so boring, I found myself falling asleep halfway through her name. I almost resorted to splashing the remaining ounces of Lone Star in my bottle onto my face; however, I managed to remain focused.

As she’s recording her “per-facts” and “impour-ants” in her fake diary—perhaps she was just coloring—a knock at the door brings a big, cheesy surprise. After slowly walking like Frankenstein across the grounds of the resort due to the fact that he was mired in heavy denial, Ryan, of all people, knocks on the Tatadra Suite where Ashley has resorted to Kegels in preparation for her big dates. “Tatadra” apparently means “Dream House,” which, of course, is a loose translation from Fijian to English. In Spanish, for instance, it means “Fun Hole.” Annnyyyhooo . . . .

In an espousal of revisionist history not seen since Oliver Stone’s JFK, Ryan pretends that he and Ashley have unresolved love issues in addition to pretending that his end game doesn’t entail an invitation from ABC to be the next Bachelor. Ashley “mmmm, mmmm’s” him to death while chewing on her face before Ryan drops, “so I called Chris” in order to come back to Fiji.

Hell yes, Harrison can make that happen. He was probably glad to step outside of whatever after party he left to take that call at 4 a.m. while Ryan was sitting atop his windmill in Southern California crying like a p*ssy about getting kicked to the curb. These people need Dr. Jamie. Then again, psychology is the art of attempting to correct your faults by discussing your parents’ shortcomings. Some people have psychiatrists. I have Austin, Texas and a mountain bike. Perhaps Ryan can find the clarity he needs while taking a water-heaterless shower back in San Diego.

After putting on her thinkin’ real hard face, Ashley attempts to get her mind around the fact that she’s now going to have to bang four guys in three days assuming Harrison and that fat guy in the black hat who helped Roz pack her s*it after she got booted out of the mansion don’t want a courtesy shot at her. She dismisses Ryan with a promise to “think about it” and immediately calls the Concierge to double the amount of cranberry juice in her minibar. (Yes, I just wrote that.)


As Ashley walks along the dock in her red bikini top and her white wrap around, Ben arrives in his orange shirt and top siders ready to commence the Fantasy Date. Getting the first of the Fantasy Dates is tantamount to having the lowest number at a lunch hour deli: Everyone behind you is envious and you’re certain to get the freshest meat.

They board a giant boat for their “water date” and talk frankly and romantically on the bow of the Belemare which, of course, means “beautiful rash” in Fijian, as Ashley laments the loss of the flower in her hair almost as much as she’ll lament the loss of her cherry when the rum and sun exhaustion wear off after the big night. You know what they say, Ashley. Que Sarong Sarong. I wouldn’t call her easy, but the truth is that this broad has been in more hotel rooms on this show than Gideon’s Bible.

I love that joke. Back to the date.

Ashley busts Ben’s balls a bit before suggestively rubbing oil all over him and using “flirtatiousness” when she means “flirtation.” Ben performs a cursory breast exam on Ashley before returning the oil rubbing favors. After all, one can never be too safe and based upon Ashley’s less-than-ample bosom, it was a short examination.

Lump free, they snorkel, share their feelings, and admire Ben’s Tetris video game themed bathing suit. Did anyone else notice that the usual 12 string Spanish guitar music that plays subtly in the background on these dates was replaced this week by the Victory at Sea soundtrack? Odd. Perhaps Esteban was double booked.

The couple wash up and dress up before arriving at the Namale Resort. You know what they say. Here today, gone Namale. Ashley arrives in her yellow and blue tie dye full length casual cotton dress thing and, in a remarkable twist, sports no eye shadow to match. Ben arrives looking like a gay version of Robinson Crusoe in a silky, see through, v-neck sweater clearly left behind by Ames when he left the mansion last week. To top it all off, he actually tucked it in to his khaki pants. Did he leave his balls in the Far East? Good Lord.

Ben asks Ashley if he can push her chair in; which I found ironic, because if things continued to progress he’d probably be asking her if he could push her stool in later in the evening. (Pause. Re-read. Put yourself in my head. Now, get the joke). Oblivious, Ashley stuffs her face and as the Fivehead makes a rare appearance, they discuss “the whole I love you thing” before Ashley anxiously and unapologetically tears open the Fantasy Suite Card and leaves her fork spinning in mid-air like freaking Daffy Duck running from Elmer Fudd and exits the screen on her way to the Fantasy Suite with Ben.

In honor of Ben’s chosen profession and my trip to Napa and Sonoma last week, I’d like to describe the goings on in the Fantasy Suite in terms of a fine wine tasting. Here goes:

Ben and Ashley’s relationship has produced a particularly complex and complete expression of delusional love. Combining bright, lifted red fruit elements with darker, more extracted layers, their depth was on display in the aromatics, where notes of Asian spice and Fijian promiscuity were supported by a subtle streak of earthiness. The lovemaking was both velvety and balanced, with lush flavors of voluptuous cherries, black currants, and Ben’s fine, toasty oak.

On the palate, Ashley was supple and compelling, yet dainty and medium-bodied with velvety, well-integrated bowed legs that supported a long finish. The evening was both sumptuous and sophisticated, offering a robust, powerful structure with a rich entry that segued to a long, lingering finish.

Ahh, the Fantasy Suite. The best things in life are free, aren’t they? It’s been said that there’s nothing better than going to bed with a glass of warm milk and a good book. However, for Ashley, a cold bottle of wine and the closest available male will do. I think we all know what the “F” in “Ben F.” stands for now. Nice work, Ben. Congrats on getting that done. I hope it was “per-fact.”


Sporting inexplicably tiny black shorts and a Tanya Roberts circa 1985 midriff shirt, Ashley ignores the soreness in her legs and awaits Constantine for a big run and hug in a field. She’s so skinny that if she walked unaccompanied into a pool hall she’d likely have her head chalked. She’s always looking for a meaningful one night stand and Constantine doesn’t disappoint as he arrives looking Greek and horny.

They “special moment” each other and she pretends she never took a helicopter ride with Brad before boning him in a South African cabana last season and it became abundantly clear to me that Constantine was less into her than he was in the previous weeks.

As a forlorn (and cheesy) Ryan mopes amongst the seaweed on the beach lamenting the presence of the hot water heater in his free suite, Constantine enjoys piggy backing Ashley under the Bouma Falls of Taveuni Island as she makes poor attempts to rationalize Constantine’s “slow progress” in their “relationship.”

Progress? Calling that progress is like saying that it’s progress if a cannibal uses a knife and fork. “He doesn’t like you!” I yelled at my screen after sipping Lone Star number whatever and hitting the pause button in search of a full beer. What a dunce.

Ignorant of the fact that coconut is a natural laxative, Ashley stuffs a bunch of it in her face as she questions Constantine about looking at 108 houses before deciding on which one to buy. “Houses are not like women,” he responds, clearly annoyed and ready to get the hell out of Fiji.

“Houses are not like women?” Oh, I don’t know about that, Constantine. Let’s see. They cost a lot, look better with new coat of paint every 10 years, the maintenance is all your problem, and if you don’t take care of it you’re likely to come home and find the pool boy in it. I’d say there are a lot of similarities.

Regardless, Constantine and Ashley head to Iwannalottapoontang Island for dinner and as she brings up her one night stand with his doppelganger, Constantine tells her in no uncertain terms that she’s a pain in his ass.

Wallowing deeper in denial than Ryan in seaweed, Ashley asks, “so where does this leave us,” before stuffing some fruit in her face. Constantine drops the “I respect you too much to bang you even though I deserve it for putting up with you for two months” speech and is eventually forced to abruptly end the date, and alas, their “relationship.” He even invoked the specter of her absent, alcoholic father; however, that memory is tucked away tighter than a transvestite’s junk in Ashley’s memory bank and it didn’t bring a reaction. Unfazed, Ashley continued to stuff her face as the reality that she’d been dumped slowly seeped behind her curtain of bangs and into the dense skull behind the Fivehead.

Free at last, Constantine bounds from the table like Errol Flynn on the deck of a pirate ship leaving the ABC cameraman and his fixed tripod to fend for himself and quickly packs his bags in search of the nearest sea plane. Ashley broods table side and finishes stuffing her face before heading back to the suite to decide if she’s going to bang Ryan and J.P. or just J.P. No wonder she’s bowlegged.

Props to Constantine, by the way. The guy was consistently honest and articulate all season. That “I respect you too much to sleep with you when I don’t love you” speech will give him all kinds of street cred back in Cumming, Georgia and that’s exactly what he’ll be doing a lot of when he runs through the female wait staff at Giorgio’s as soon as he gets home.

I’ll give the guy credit. Considering the fact that the only place most men want depth in a woman is in her cleavage, Constantine showed rare restraint. Granted, he wasn’t attracted to her, but he had a sure thing and turned it down. After all, sex without love is an empty experience. Then again, it’s pretty good as far as empty experiences go. At the end of the day, Constantine realized that Ashley is not the type of woman who should be carelessly tossed aside. Rather, she should be thrown forcefully. Solid work, Constantine.


Realizing she’s the first Bachelorette to literally be dumped mid-Fantasy Date, Ashley bow leggeds over to Ryan’s suite because she now has “soooo much clarity.” Ignoring the fact that she’s literally called J.P., Constantine, Ben, and Ames “per-fact guys” who have “exactly what she’s looking for” in a man, she says the exact same sh*t about Ryan before addressing their “pre-mah-ta-yoooor” goodbye, dumping him all over again, and making him cry like the pansy that he is. Thanks for coming out, Douchebag. We’ll see you on the next Bachelor (let’s hope not) and if that doesn’t work out, we’ll see you on Bachelor Pad 3. Go get some flying lessons and a cargo pilot’s license.


Ben Franklin once observed that glass, china, and reputation are things that are easily cracked and are never well mended. I suppose Ashley forgot her copy of the Ben Franklin Reader’s Digest Edition on the sea plane or perhaps she spilled cranberry juice on it. Then again reputation is nothing more than what a person hasn’t been caught doing yet. In short, if you’re going to sleep around, national television is probably not the best place to do it.

Regardless, Ashley dons her jean shorts and her Pocahontas (or is it “Poke-a-hon-tis”) shirt as she and her midriff await J.P. in anticipation of a sea plane ride to Naiwannanailya Island. Ashley reflects back upon her time with J.P. and recalls that he’s “been her rock” all season. Well, I suppose she meant with the exception of when Ben was “her rock” on his spontaneous overnight visit and also 48 hours before her date with J.P., but perhaps I’m splitting hairs.

They travel “alone” to a “secluded” island and frolic in the sea while fawning all over each other. He’s clearly in love with Ashley in a way that the others—not even Ben—are in love. It probably doesn’t hurt that the last time J.P. was inside a woman, he was visiting the Statute of Liberty, but it is exactly what it is.

They frolic some more and he carefully guards his worries about her poontanging around the island with his buddies before she tells him she didn’t close the deal with Constantine or Ryan.

Somewhat relieved by that revelation but still picturing Ben’s bold, rich entry segueing into a long, lingering finish, J.P. assures Ashley that he’s not trying to win “like guys trying to beat each other.” Of course, Ames was the only one trying to beat all of the guys, but that’s neither here nor there.

With that out of the way, they take Harrison up on his written invitation to the Fantasy Suite and we’re happy to learn that the housekeeping staff had the presence of mind to put on new sheets and throw pillows after Ben’s long, lingering finish 48 hours earlier. J.P. waits anxiously as Ashley retires to lose her tiny black cocktail number and don her Jacqueline Bisset in The Deep shirt made famous on this show by Jillian Harris. The cameras pan out and J.P. undoubtedly panned in for a hot plate of sloppy seconds as Ben slept comfortably and quietly in his suite.


Looking refreshed and tanned in his pale lavender shirt and dark suit, Harrison resets the last two hours and nods knowingly as Ashley pretends that Constantine left because they were moving too slow instead of the fact that she’s a marginally attractive, high maintenance, insecure pain in the ass without a clue what she wants in life. Details.

Ashley broods in her pearl sparkled short dress in the Lair of Seclusion and eventually awards J.P. and Ben their roses and they chose to accept them. I’m guessing we missed the “how was it?” awkward conversation they had while waiting for Ashley to quit talking to Harrison.

Well, there it is. With the Journey count making an astounding recovery at 27 and the Amazing count at a respectable, albeit annoying, 85 we head to some other Fijian island where we’ll undoubtedly see the sister vs. judgey sister showdown next week before Ashley makes her big choice. Keep in mind that the Reunion Show is on this Sunday. I’ll probably keep my normal Tuesday posting schedule, but will update Facebook and the blog site if I get the time to write on Sunday. As always, thanks for hanging in there this season. Until next time, if you need me I’ll be searching for a see through sweater to tuck into my khaki pants.  Oh, and I thought this b*tch was a dentist.   DP

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Bachelorette Recap Episode 8: Ashley's Cumming and Going

Hello, Readers, and welcome back to what continues to be a beating of a Bachelorette season. For the past few weeks I’ve been wallowing in wishful denial that my apathy toward Ashley and her various colors of eye shadow is the result of my new and improved triathlon training regimen or the inevitable abdominal cramping that accompanies a high fiber diet.

Sadly, I’ve cut down on the Lone Stars too; however, I have come to terms with the fact that none of this has anything to do with the fact that Ashley is simply too uninteresting to carry this show. Considering the fact that next to her Brad Womack inspires more hysteria than Lady Gaga at Madison Square Garden, I think that speaks volumes about the choice that ABC made to throw her into the mix. Someone must have been smoking some of the stash Harrison smuggled back from Tahiti last season when that decision was made.

Incidentally, I saw Brad this week at my gym around lunch time. He was clad in his usual baggy shorts, sleeveless tee and ball cap working on (SURPRISE!) his upper body. I nodded knowingly as I passed, but didn’t stop to chat because I didn’t want to interrupt set 100 of 300 in his bench press work out. Besides, the smell of Axe Body Spray was overwhelming.

All kidding aside, it must have been tough for the guy to venture out in public the day after Emily said he was a jerk without saying he was a jerk on national TV. Brad has never been anything but nice to me and my friends who know him well. There’s nothing wrong with choosing to be perpetually single and now that this is over he’s a guy that needs to embrace that. I hope he can move past the whole show (for the second time) and just be happy working on his chest or whatever. Dr. Jamie, my ass.

I also had the pleasure of seeing the wonderfully talented and always charming Lincee Ray of www.ihategreenbeans.com this weekend. She was kind enough to bring a bevy of broads and some other friends to a local Austin honky tonk where one of my close friend’s band was playing. We laughed, we danced, and we took pictures. No, we’re not dating but we’re fast friends and I always enjoy seeing Lincee. If I’m not mistaken, she’ll post a picture or two of that evening on her site. Thanks for the waltz, Lincee. With that said, let’s get to the current season’s goings on.

In case we forgot, we begin with the reminder that this week is hometown week and Ashley will be headed to see the guys’ homes and be mercilessly judged by the families of Constantine, J.P., Ames, and Ben. Ashley recaps her “feelings” for all of the men and tells us that she’s “sooooo” everything as we see her packing her back amongst the wooden floors, granite counter tops, and sage walls of her lonely one bedroom apartment in Philadelphia. I wondered if her landlord was watching and would be making an attempt to collect the unpaid pet deposit on that excuse for a dog she had nipping at her heels like J.P. on a group date.

As she carefully selects family friendly blouses and chromatically consistent eye shadows to match them, Ashley recounts her low budget dates with Constantine, the “unique” (read latently gay) qualities of Ames, her post-Bentley sulk session with J.P., and her “spontaneous” orphanage mural painting with Ben.

Boy, I’m sure those kids over there in the desert have been enjoying that mural amidst the un-airconditioned confines of that orphanage. At any rate, she throws on another Mexican table cloth for a skirt and her favorite travel friendly F-me pumps in order to hail a cab to the airport. Aaaaannnd, we’re off. . .


First stop, Cumming, Georgia. Dude, just as I was about put it into neutral in hopes of making it all go away, we get a Money Shot of the phallic giant white water tower protruding like a morning erection from the center of Constantine’s home town that reads “Cumming.” I felt like Michael Corleone in the third installment of The Godfather: “Just when I thought I was out . . . they pull me back in.” Ashley is “going” to “Cumming?” I found that ironic since next week is actually Fantasy Date week when odds are she’ll actually be . . . oh, nevermind. How in the world should I be expected to ignore that? Touche, ABC. Touche.

Surprised that Constantine’s home town was not Rome, I settled in over another Lone Star in order to watch him and his Rocky Balboa sweatshirt and green t-shirt grope Ashley in the park before taking her to see his family restaurant.

Before I get started, I’d like to pay tribute to our trip through Asia by introducing each home town visit with a Hometown Haiku commemorating each greeting. Yes, I realize they didn’t go to Japan. Cut me some slack. At least I’m not making origami Ashleys. Here we go.

Ash goes to Cumming
Auburn eyeshadow looks bad
Pensive hug. She sucks

After enduring the smell of the filthy duck pond, they stroll meaningfully to Giorgio’s Restaurant, Constantine’s family business. With the trashy girls from the waitstaff that he’s undoubtedly made at least one pass through watching carefully, Constantine gives Ashley the grand tour and takes her to the kitchen in order to cook a pizza and make a salad as she invades the space of the Hispanic kitchen workers whose attempts to unionize have undoubtedly been crushed under the iron fist of Constantine’s family. Alright, I made that last part up, but it sounds cool. Cooking pizza? Making salads? Say it with me: I thought this b*tch was a dentist.

After some more awkward conversation, Ashley heads to Mount Olympus to meet the family. Let’s see, there was Dimitri, Elleni, and Maria, the God-daughter Athena, Zeus, Poseidon, Aphrodite, Hera, Hermes, and, of course Apollo. After all, what’s a party without the God of Music? I believe Dionysos was included on the Evite; however, he had a prior engagement over at Charlie Sheen’s place. Annnnyyyhooo . . .

After some stupid chats with mom and dad, about 1000 other people from Constantine’s immediate family showed up to jump around like Anthony Quinn in Zorba the Greek before some fat guy made it rain like Harrison at the local strip bar in the VIP Lounge. In short, Constantine’s family seemed like very nice, self-made, decent people and they were very welcoming of Ashley. The parents were supportive, protective but not overbearing, and very proud of their son. That’s a good indicator how he’ll treat others around him and even the socially numb Ashley should have been able to see that.

Of the four families, I believe this one is most likely to be the best fit for her. Even Constantine’s sister—who was more attractive than Ashley, by the way—was not as judgey as the other guys’ sisters and certainly not negative like Ashley’s sister (more about her later). It’s too bad I don’t feel that way about Constantine. They just don’t seem compatible. For instance, she’s a morning person and he just doesn’t like her. Ahh, details. After a half-assed goodbye, Ashley heads back to PA to meet the Ames family.


First, the haiku.

We are in Chadd’s Ford
“Unique” is code word for “gay”
Rich or not, he’s done

After a view of the sprawling, blue blooded Ames family estate, we get a shot of an excited plaid wearing Ames and his wind blown, Warren Beatty in Splendor in the Grass hair awaiting Ashley in a glorious meadow. Ashley—who is no Natalie Wood--throws around the word “unique” like she threw around “Bentley” a few weeks ago and it is clear that, while she likes him, she doesn’t like him in that special way that guarantees he’ll throw her around the Fantasy Suite like a dust rag next week.

Realizing this, I hit pause, sighed for the sake of Ames, and retrieved another Lone Star ready to sit back and watch Ashley try and pass off her cheerleader diction on the aristocracy of Chadd’s Ford. Chadd’s Ford? Isn’t that something you’d find in Rob Lowe’s brother’s garage? I’ll be here all week, folks. Back to Ames.

Ashley skips the pre-meet walk and talk with Ames and immediately heads to the veranda to meet Ames’ sister Serena, her mute yet electric blue husband Randy, his mother Jane (who won the Doris Kearns Goodwin look alike contest last week), his older and balding brother Jim, his sister-in-law Tracey, and a host of nieces and nephews who unquestionably love playing dolls and dress up with Uncle Ames.

After some mint juleps to prime the pump, Ames’ big sister gets some alone time as Ashley laments not bringing her white jeans. That would have been a wonderful ice breaker considering the fact that Serena and Mrs. Ames were both wearing theirs. Talbots has such a rich and wonderful early Fall collection.

After an interview by the indoor/outdoor pool and some very interesting insight as to the death of Ames father and step father as well as learning that he went to boarding school, Ashley pretends that she and Ames are intellectually similar and Serena remembers when she used to dress up her younger brother as a girl and have tea parties in the garden with him. She gives Ames a heads up that his relationship with Ashley is a passionless farce aimed at outing him for the sake of ABC ratings.

Frankly, she and the mother were both very perceptive. They showed a great deal of restraint too. Ashley was clearly out of her league in that setting but she tried and Ames, as always, was wonderfully charming. Incidentally, when I say “out of her league” I don’t mean that the Ames’s were better than her. I mean that they’re different from her. They seemed like nice people, but certainly Ames is expected to find someone much more “suitable” for his intellect. Fake dentists who go on reality dating shows two seasons in a row to “find love” are likely not considered “purrr-fact” in Chadd’s Ford, Pennsylvania.

In a “bless his heart” attempt at romance, Ames fires up the family carriage after packing a delightfully refreshing picnic in his basket and spirits Ashley away through the unpaved roads along the riverbank for a lovely repast of wafers, foie gras, and sauvignon blanc in his “favorite garden” below a blooming magnolia tree. Ames drops some Italian Renaissance philosophical talk saying he sees romance and magic in the ordinary things in life. In the absence of any salad, Ashley chews on her lips and face. Frankly, it’s amazing she has any lips and face left after last night. She never stopped chewing on them all night. Her entire affect is annoying.

Let me sum this entire exchange up by saying that Ames truly won me over this season. Is he really gay? Hell, I don’t know. He was a shy kid who lost the two key male figures in his life very early in his development and was then raised by a mother, a sister, and servants. He didn’t appear to be close to his brother and I’m certain that he too was shipped off to boarding school before he and Ames could bond like brothers bond.

I’m sure he spent most of his youth daydreaming about magnolias, his favorite garden, and wearing red pants. The truth is that in what little doses we got of him this season, he is by all counts, a decent, friendly, open, positive, intellectually rounded, passionate person who is loved by the people close to him. It was impossible to hate the guy. That was evidenced by the thinly veiled disdain for this “journey” living right behind his protective sister’s eyes and the genuine concern expressed by his mother during their conversation. Ames is a good person and good things will happen as a result of that. He didn’t belong with Ashley and whether he ends up with a girl named Eve or a guy named Steve, I’m certain he’ll find someone with whom to share his life.


The Haiku

Ben F. makes good wine
Jump Hug means it’s on next week
His sister hates Ash

Ashley high tails it to Sonoma, California to meet up with Ben on an estate equally as worthy as Ames’ house. I didn’t see carriage driving servants, but I’m certain they were somewhere on the property.

After a cool tour through some of the winery and what looked like a miserably cold and rainy picnic on the porch, Ashley continues to look vacantly at Ben as he warns her about his skeptical mother and sister Julia. The word “vapid” came to mind—as did the words “Lone Star.” Between biting her lip and chewing the inside of her face, Ashley responds to Ben’s genuine attempts to explain his family with a series of cursory “wow’s” and “hmm, hmm’s”. She’s such a freaking beating.

Ashley takes flowers provided by the Producers to ward off mom and sis and they approach the deceptively sweet house surrounded by a white picket fence in order to meet Ben’s mom Barbara and his sister Julia. Incidentally, “Julia” begins with “J” and a “U”. Do you know what else begins with a “J” and a “U”? The word “judgmental.”

As dinner progresses it is clear that mom and sister remain skeptical. Ironically, it was Julia who signed her brother up for this garbage and as they talk about their father around the dinner table, I almost forgot that Ashley was sitting next to Ben and that the entire purpose of the visit was to size her up. She’s clearly too tiny to squash grapes with her feet all day and it was clear that breaking the bond between Ben and his sister would be a near impossibility for anyone, much less a fake dentist from Madawaska. I’ll comment more about family acceptance later; however, it appeared that mom and sister held the keys to the winery and I don’t believe that Ashley is going to get to hold them any time soon.

After some picture viewing and some cheerleader chatting, Ashley says a tense goodbye to Judgey Julia and Ben’s mom-who looked like Ben in drag, by the way. She “purr-facts” Ben in the driveway and he goes back inside to get the cabernet stain out of his gray jeans.

Of the remaining three families this one would clearly be a tough fit for Ashley. Ben is the remaining male in an obviously well-to-do family and has an understandably overprotective mother and sister in light of the death of their patriarch. Ashley didn’t seem to cut it over there, but I still think Ben has a fair shot at the final rose considering the fact that he’s already (allegedly) closed to deal on a previous one-on-one date which means he won’t spend as much time warming up in the Fantasy Suite next week.



Long Island J.P.
Fest of Insecurity
Chew on your face more

At this point, I was less interested in Ashley than Bentley was before the dot, dot, dot (yes, I just brought that up). Slogging through the remainder of this show knowing that J.P. is basically a male version of Ashley and her rampant self doubt was enough to make me scream. Luckily, my mouth had a beer bottle in it. I’m certain you were feeling the pain too. It’s like trying to make it the last 10 minutes of post wedding pictures in uncomfortable heels and a wired push up bra: you know relief is in sight but the prospect of enduring the pain is almost incomprehensible.

A well-prepared J.P. makes an allowance for the impending rain in his hometown of Roslyn, New York by planning a private excursion to the local roller skating rink. I suppose that’s a Long Island Construction Contractor’s equivalent of a carriage ride amongst the flora and fauna and a picnic below the magnolia trees. It’s a shame that the Roslyn weather man wasn’t as well prepared as J.P. Despite the lack of rain, they still venture in for some rented skates, some REO Speedwagon, and some tonsil roller hockey in the middle of the floor.

I once was at a friend’s bachelor party in Minneapolis when after literally getting thrown out of a bar we went back to the Marquette Hotel bar where we were staying on one of those fancy executive floors that only people with a certain elevator card can get to. Long story short, REO Speedwagon was staying on that floor and we ended up having a huge floor party with them until the wee hours of the morning.

They drank my entire mini-bar and I ended up sloppy drunk talking the lead singer, Kevin Cronin, in my suite until he was so sick of me he left to go hang out with my brother and my college roommate, Lenny, in their room. To this day, whenever my friends hear REO Speedwagon they call me to remind me that Kevin Cronin hates me. I have a similar story about Chuck Norris, but that’s for another post. Back to J.P.

After some more face chewing and the ABC make up crew failing to powder her whisker irritated chin and cheeks, Ashley puts some athlete’s foot powder in her F-me pumps after wearing the rented skates and she and J.P. go to meet the family.

They meet J.P.’s mom Aileen, father Peter, less attractive brother Ray, and his girlfriend Andrea as they all admire Ashley’s Pajama Jeans. Ashley brings up J.P.’s family’s failure to recognize that despite the wonderful elasticity and comfort of her Pajama Jeans she does not want a second helping of lasagna because it has too many carbs in it.

She’s like 75 pounds and she has the gall to refuse a second helping of homemade lasagna in a New York household? I’ll bet J.P. would have had a second helping of poutin or whatever that disgusting French fry with brown gravy dish that Ashley forced fed Brad in Mada-nowhere last season is called. Hell, Brad is probably still doing sit ups and taking supplements to get rid of those calories. She’s like Eliza Doolittle without the etiquette training for God’s sake. Someone should tell her that there are tons of carbs in her lips and face and perhaps she’d stop chewing on them.

After some meaningless conversation with J.P.’s mother about his ex-girlfriend, everyone makes nice and Ashley hits the road. She’s clearly the most into J.P. and his family seemed to be willing to support their relationship provided she picks him after the Fantasy Date. J.P. is clearly into her and, as we learned, falling in love easily has been his Achilles’ heel in the past. Props to him for rolling the dice again. I think he’ll end up “winning” assuming Ryan’s stunt comeback next week doesn’t work. Whatever.

My comment on all of the hometown dates is this. I believe that family and friends can provide a safe, secure, predictable, unrepentant place to land. In fact, I believe that the entire function of family and true friendships is to unconditionally provide that support and that love. We saw bits of that in all of the hometown family visits.

However, I also believe that families in particular are guilty of trying to possess their members, sometimes to the point where that cocoon becomes a restrictive wet blanket. All of these guys are in their late 20’s or early 30’s and are responsible for their own decisions. Family input is important but should not dictate what decision they (or Ashley for that matter) make concerning the selection of a potential future spouse . . . maybe.

As adults, that’s their prerogative and it’s also their mistake to make. Jealously, guilt, and control are bad things in overabundance and these guys would all do well to take some time alone and think about what they really want rather than what they think their families want for them. Based on next week’s preview, I’d suggest Ashley do the same thing. We shall see.


With family time over . . . Oh, wait. I suppose Harrison deserves a haiku as well.

Greeting Ash. Gray Suit
Seven minutes of air time
Boom! Giant paycheck

After a brief recap Ashley is left alone in the Lair of Seclusion and we all know that Ames his going to be sent packing in his beige suit. Ben, J.P., and Constantine pick up their roses and Ames graciously yet regretfully accepts defeat with his characteristic smile. Showing his character and his penchant for positive thinking he sums up the entire situation saying that it was “beautiful, full of the unexpected, and more poetic than he could imagine.” Well put, Ames. Let’s hope that Ben, J.P. and Constantine can say the same about the Fantasy Suite dates next week.

I rarely, if ever, mention the previews. However, I’d like to remind everyone how I described Ashley’s sister during Brad’s hometown visit to Mada-whatever last year. I said,

“Chrystie, her loud mouthed, attention seeking, tattoo covered sister—we know SHE didn’t go to dental school—immediately uses her loud mouth to seek attention. I’ve made no secret of my affinity for small town girls with tattoos; however, no amount of tattoos can cover up annoying. I popped another Lone Star in an attempt to dull the pain. After all, life is about coping mechanisms, isn’t it?”

We’ll see how right I am next week.

Well, there it is. With the Journey count at an oddly low 18 and the Amazing count at a resurrected 80 we head to Fiji for the What’s Ashley Like in Bed Dates. Have a wonderful week and until next time, if you need me I’ll be chewing on my face. DP

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Bachelorette Recap Episode 7: Tai-want this Season to be Over Already POST

Hello, Readers. Welcome back after a much needed week off from the drudgery that is the Who Ends Up with Ashley Hebert Show. I trust that all of you—even my Canadian friends and the six people in Denmark who read this—had a wonderful Fourth of July weekend.

I had a wonderful weekend in spite of the fact that fireworks displays were banned here in Austin because everything around here is a drier than a Harrison martini. Regardless, I got to spend some time at Lake Travis and, of course, reflected extensively on this season’s outcome. I missed our weekly banter, however, and I have to confess, I’m looking forward to your comments this week. Sorry for the delayed posting, but sometimes I have some lawyerin’ to do. This was one of those times.

Before we begin our recap, this week’s shout out goes to one of my most loyal readers, Maggie from Coppell, Texas. She turned—let’s just say she’s a bit older than she was a few days ago—this week and I’m happy to bring a smile to her gracefully aging face. Happy Berfday, Maggie, and thanks for being a fan. I hope the birthday fairy brought you everything you wanted.

Actually, I hope some beefy guy named Chazz showed up at your door dressed as a cop before throwing on some Village People and yanking off his pants in one fell swoop as hoards of your middle-aged friends guffawed into their chardonnay while searching their purses for dollar bills and simultaneously reminding themselves that they owed the person who phoned Chazz forty bucks. If that didn’t happen, I hope they gave you a free dessert at the local Applebee’s. Either way, I hope you had fun. With that out of the way, let’s get to it.

We all began this week the same way: cringing with our over-poured glasses of wine behind our seasonally appropriate accent pillows bracing ourselves for another recap of the dot dot dot and Ashley’s incessant, almost Tourette-esque utterances of the word “Bentley.” Thankfully, ABC apparently dusted off its month old focus group surveys and discovered that we were all sick of that in early June. Instead, we see that we’re going to be treated to various vistas, gorgeous gorges, and beautiful beaches in the exceptionally exotic city of Taipei, Taiwan. I couldn’t wait.

We learn early on that Ben and Ryan get solo dates and see Ryan crying in pink linen. We see J.P. in a tux, Lucas in a dress, and Ames in an outfit he probably had in his suitcase. Most importantly, we learn that we’ll get a merciful break from Ashley in order to get an update and find closure in an interview with the radiant and heartbroken Emily who has flown all the way from Charlotte sans Little Ricki in order to set the record straight. Bless her white shorts wearing, spray tanned, low lighted, lip gloss sporting, veneer augmented little heart. I really couldn’t wait.

But first, we have to deal with Ashley. Incidentally, anyone think she was a tad insecure watching last night’s episode from home knowing we were all slogging through her poor outfits and indecisive smoky eyes in order to see what Emily had to say? I’m sure J.P. or whoever “won” this season had his hands full on Monday night. God bless that guy.

Ashley begins as she does in every new city: by wandering aimlessly through the streets wearing a white tank top and a miniskirt that looked like a Mexican table cloth while contemplating her arduous, mind-wrenching complimentary, ass-kissing, first class vacation around the world in order to do a bunch of free stuff with a bunch of guys who want to be around her for no good reason.

We see the beauty of Taroko State Park and Sun Moon Lake as Ashley “educates” us about Taiwan. Apparently, it’s known as “the hidden jewel of Asia,” she tells us because “not a lot of people know about it.” I suppose if by “not a lot” she means 1.1 billion Chinese people and every person in the world who has ever used consumer electronics, she’s absolutely correct. Hey Ashley, do you know what not a lot of people know about? Madawaska, Maine.

Ironically, that awful skirt she had on was probably sewn together by some indentured seven year old with hands small enough to thread the machine. This b*tch should stick to being a fake dentist. Incidentally, the island is separated from the mainland by the Taiwan Strait. I found it ironic that Ames would be the only person in the group who knows that considering he’s the furthest thing from straight.

After gushing falsely and repetitively about the remaining men, Ashley drops some canned “fresh start” mantra and I sipped my first Lone Star thankful that Bentley had gone the route of Justin “Rated R” Rego and Wes Hayden before him. I smiled for Cozy’s sake.

Harrison, dressed in light brown denim pants and a royal blue linen shirt that Lincee Ray will love because it accents his eyes, meets the men in the square and drops some 100th Anniversary of Taiwan facts before letting them know that there are 3 one-on-one dates and 1 group date with only one rose up for grabs. It’s week-before-home-town-date time and the pressure is on.

Harrison sends the guys to their suite and hops into a limo where he undoubtedly visited that local doll factory in order to oversee production of the upcoming line of anatomically correct Chris Harrison Action Figures. Apparently, they come with life-like hands capable of gripping a champagne glass and butter knife. Those are also included. After posing with the Plant Manager, he hit the beach and left strict instructions with the Concierge that he was not to be disturbed until half an hour before the rose ceremony.

Ironically, this season’s front runner, J.P., begins an Ashley-esque slide into insanity as we see a huge dent in his Long Island armor. He handles stress about as well as Ashley handles insecurity. Perhaps they are meant for one another. The date card is dropped amidst his ridiculousness. “Let Your Love Light Shine,” it reads and we learn that the always boring but oddly consistent and likeable Constantine is the lucky lead off batter.

As J.P. stresses like a whore in church Constantine unwads his best Garanimals, plaid, button up, short sleeve shirt and matches the lion on the tag with the lion on the tag on his pants tying the entire ensemble together with some Stride-Rite sneakers.

Five-year old attire in place Constantine forgoes his skateboard opting for a leisurely walk to meet Ashley in this week’s theme apparel, the backless blouse. She makes a poor attempt to compliment it with Pajama Jeans and some F-me pumps as they catch a dirty steam train and sweat profusely on the way to Ping Shi Village for the Lantern Festival. Ping Shi is, of course, close to it’s sister village, Ping Pong, where they have their annual Paddle Festival, but that’s neither here nor there. Frankly, that’s just me showing off. Annnyyyhooo. . .

I think we all sensed the complete lack of chemistry as they painted their “love wish” on their paper lantern. I was praying that Constantine would go for some filthy Men’s Room wall depiction of his Fantasy Suite idea, but sadly, I was out of luck. Frankly, I think he’s relatively boring, but he seems like a genuinely nice guy with a solid head on his shoulders. That probably means he’s a great guy to know in the real world but without the extremes exhibited by guys like J.P. and Ryan, he doesn’t translate well on TV. Top that off with the fact that he’s about as interested in Ashley as Bentley was if you dismiss the rampant narcissism and Alpha male chest beating and I almost fell asleep watching them.

They have dinner and Constantine again proves he’s sincere by articulating his feelings in a realistic, straightforward, non-equivocal manner. Ashley, of course, stuffs her face and stares at her plate. Apparently, they don’t have Cotillion classes offered at the Madawaska Country Club. After swallowing, Ashley finally gives Constantine credit for paying attention to her like her daddy never did and he earns an emotionless kiss under the dog urine-soaked love lamp or whatever it’s called. She drops an over accentuated “Purrrrr-fact” on him and they “so awesome” everything as we fade into commercial and I faded into the end of another Lone Star Beer thankful for the opportunity to hit pause and empty my bladder like a stray mutt on a Taipei love lantern.

The Second Date Card gets dropped at the suite as Ryan and his entrepreneurially grown five-o’clock shadow stress about his first one-on-one. “Let’s Spend a ‘Gorges’ Day Together,” it reads as an appropriately low key Ben accepts the invitation without rubbing it into Ryan’s environmentally conscious, overly obnoxious face. J.P. retires to the confines of the walk in shower to sob openly among the steam vents.

Dude, relax. Can you imagine this guy during the first two Fantasy Suite Dates? He’s likely to explode. We all know that the Producers smell blood here and he’s going to be forced to sweat it out for two days in Tahiti fighting back vision after horrible vision of his true love being defiled by two of his buddies just days before he’s set to meet with Neil Lane and select her engagement ring. I hope he had the wherewithal to visit a local Taiwanese pharmacy and score some sedatives prior to heading home. From the looks of it, he sought solace in his Under Armour gear.

Ashley awaits Ben in a pink, silky, backless tank top and jean shorts and Ben shows up in jeans and a t-shirt still needing a haircut. Frankly, I don’t know how she told him apart from Constantine, but that’s not my problem, I suppose. They jump on a rented moped and proceed to tool around like a couple of overgrown oafs on the moped enjoying the scenery. Frankly, throw in a six pack of Lone Star in a basket on the front of that moped and that date was right up my gorge—minus Ashley, of course.

Ashley talks like a high school cheerleader as she tells us that the date is “right out of a fairy tale.” Right, we all know the fairy tale about the wine making prince and his magic moped from Taiwan, don’t we? I found myself hoping that this fairy tale would involve a poison apple that would leave Ashley catatonic in some cave somewhere for a while. Speaking of fairies, I wondered what Ames was doing.

Ashley and Ben eventually stop in the middle of an Indiana Jones-esque rope bridge and they kiss as Ashley shows Ben her giant gorge. Maybe that’s why she’s bowlegged. You know, from all of that hiking. She kisses Ben while shouldering a giant pink bag that he didn’t have the decency to carry for her. Speaking of giant ‘bags, I wondered what Ryan was doing.

The entire date is uneventfully capped off by some more of Ben opening up unabashedly about his family, life, feelings, emotional connection, and sincerity. Ashley, of course, stuffs her f*cking face and says nothing. You might say she “gorged” herself. I’ll be here all week.

Her green silk shirt and Minnie Mouse skirt left a lot to be desired. Who dresses her, for crying out loud? After she drops a few obligatory “what if’s” she and Ben share another awkward, emotionless kiss. Hell, I use more lip and tongue action trying to savor the last few drops of Lone Star from an almost empty bottle than that. No wonder J.P. won the kissing contest.

Back at the Man Suite the Group Date Card gets dropped and Ryan oozes obnoxiousness as we learn that Ashley is “Grooming” Lucas, Ames, and J.P. “for the big day.” When you get to the end zone, Ryan, act like you’ve been there, douchebag.

The following morning, controversy hits the house as the men realize that Ben has not returned home from his date. “Perhaps he got stuck in a gorge,” I thought. Apparently, J.P. had the same thought because steam was coming out of his ears. “Nice work, Ben,” I thought. That was a perfect opportunity for Ben to make some “Damn right, I gave her some ‘new bangs’ if you know what I mean” comments. Because he’s a better person than me, he simply took the humble route and pretended they didn’t share a room. Whatever.

Ashley sets up the group date in her pink eye shadow by pretending that it will be fun for all of the guys to dress up like pu*sies and take fake wedding pictures with her. Hell, she’s a fake dentist. She might as well be a fake bride. After Lucas emerges from the dressing room in a silk dress looking like he’s prepared to administer a happy ending at the local Asian rub and tug and Ames emerges looking even more gay than he actually is, J.P. heads back to see what’s in store for him.

For some reason, he got the 1980’s American prom tuxedo and, despite the fact that he escaped the humiliation that would undoubtedly be revisited upon Lucas at the Odessa Country Club by his golf buddies for eternity, he still pouted like a little girl when Ashley posed with the other men. They should just shut this bulls*it down right now and give him the keys to her apartment in whatever city she fake dentists in. Like Mickey, I’m over it. The problem is that I don’t have the luxury of hopping on a junket and getting the hell out of Dodge in order to return to my home town.

Ashley again forgets that West Texas is not The South and refers to Lucas as “a Southern Gentlemen.” Different food, different accent, different culture, different crops, different everything, Ashley. Someone get her an Almanac. She appears to know everything about Taiwan and nothing about her own country. What a beating.

Based on the instructions from the Taiwanese photographer “Ashrey changy crows” three times and takes ridiculous “wedding” pictures with all three men before reapplying her smoky eyes and fake eyelashes and a tiny green cocktail number in order to sit down with Lucas and ask him judgy, unfair questions about his divorce. Ames, after jotting down the name of the designer of the Liberace outfit he wore, settles in patiently waiting to break out the pictures of his mother and some carefully selected ones of him as a child. Nice touch, Ames. Mom pictures?

Incidentally, I suspect we’ll all see exactly what I predicted in Episode 1 when I first saw Ames. He’s a child of considerable privilege and probably grew up with a closet full of tailored pants in every color of the rainbow. Look, it’s not his fault his parents are filthy rich and he seems to fit in well with the guys; however, I’m dying to see his family and I’m dying to see how our Modest Maiden from Madawaska fits in with the blue bloods. I actually rooted out loud for him at this point in the show.

In the meantime, the Final Date Card is dropped and Douchey Ryan celebrates openly like the jerkoff that he is. “Let’s Get a Taste of Taipei,” it reads. Constantine sits there stoically with hair like Michael Jackson and Ben F. flippantly hands Ryan the card knowing that he’s already “taken the moped into the gorge” if you know what I mean. Oblivious, Ryan heads to the bedroom to find the pink linen shirt his mother suggested he wear on the first date before he left home.

Back on the date J.P. continues to whine like a freaking sissy about being on a show where the woman he’s after gets to date several men at a time. My favorite line in this exchange came when he told Ashley that seeing her with other men was making him crazy to which she responded, “bad crazy?” Classic. To pilfer a line from Colonel Jessup, “Is there another kind?”

Despite sporting some dashing red pants, Ashley rewards J.P. for being a little b*tch and he gets a sympathy rose before drying his tears and rejoining the party. I have to admit I lost some respect for the guy. He’s been consistent and normal up until now. To be fair, if I was stuck in a hotel room (no matter how nice) with a bunch of dudes—one of whom wears red pants and another who is an overt jerkoff—and the only Caucasian woman I’d seen for weeks began to ignore me, I’d freak out a little too. Let’s hope he can hold on until the end and “win.” I’ve said it before; he’s the only one dumb enough to propose to her. He might as well get a chance to run the bases.

Oh, and don’t think I’m going to leave this date without commenting on the red pants. Look, for any of us who have been around rich people—in the South or in the North—we all know that certain things make sense to that crowd. Sailor hats, blazers, colored pants, white shoes, and ascots certainly don’t go over where I hang out, but I’m certain that every one of Ames friends has a collection of those pants. I’ll give Ames credit, he pulled them off even in Taiwan. Ames is who he is and he’s not trying to pretend he’s not. I respect that. Granted, he’s a p*ssy, but he’s an unapologetic one and there’s a lot to be said for that. Good work, Ames.

Now, let’s reverse that logic. Let’s talk about Ryan. He shows up ready for his date in his pink linen shirt, designer jeans, and driving loafers and we get to see how freaking pigeon toed the guy is as he walks from a distance to Ashley in her royal blue backless shirt and white jeans. He’s just as pigeon toed as Ashley is bow legged. I’ve seen primates with straighter gaits.

Ryan drops, “when I’m with Ashley everything disappears.” I suppose if we exclude his neatly planned five o’clock shadow and his overbearing personality, he’s correct. He did make the entire back of her shirt disappear. At first, I thought it was a cover up that she’d errantly put on backwards. I digress.

I’ll cut to the chase on this beating of a “date.” They go to Long Dong Temple and mock the polytheists, look at koi fish, and eventually have a picnic where we see what a completely pretentious putz Ryan is as he purposely backs his way into a conversation about water heaters and the environment in an effort to impress Ashley with is desire to save the world. More about that in a moment. An incredibly bored Ashley finally kicks his entrepreneurial ass to the curb, orders an environmentally friendly to go box for the picnic food, and he cries for a while about finding that special someone.

Let’s talk about Ryan’s “environmentally conscious” lifestyle for a moment, shall we? Wearing dry cleaned suits, taking frivolous trips all over the world in planes and limousines, hailing a cab instead of walking, swimming in chlorinated pools and heated hot tubs, and walking into perfectly air conditioned, climate controlled rooms and upsetting the balance by blowing a ton of hot air around aren’t exactly environmentally conscious behaviors. Details. As long as he’s turning a profit from that “fascinating” water heater thing, I’m sure he sleeps well. Good riddance, A-hole.

After washing off the remaining cheese from her date with Ryan, Ashley dons a Princess Leia dress, dabs on her favorite scent—Eau de Poonani—and hits the Lair of Seclusion for some deep thought. As it turns out, the thoughts didn’t run that deep because as Harrison shows up and fights past her smoky eyes as she drones on about how “serious” things have become, she AGAIN shuts down the cocktail party in favor of booting the remaining dude.

My favorite part was when Harrison made several attempts to do the guys a solid and talk Ashley into letting them have a few pops before one of them got the boot. Let’s face it, it makes for much better television is the ousted person is a few in the bag prior to getting in the limo and being driven aimlessly around a foreign city and forced to lament knowingly into the camera.

Ashley stands firm in her commitment to be the biggest drag of a Bachelorette in the history of the show. Harrison begrudgingly drops the no booze news before subtlety winking in Morse Code “I have plenty of booze and chicks in the Sucky Sucky Penthouse Suite of this hotel. Join me after the Warden leaves.” Now THAT’S a dot dot dot I can live with.

After some meaningless speech in cheerleader speak, Ashley hands out the remaining roses.


1. J.P. (Man up, dude)
2. Constantine (who knew?)
3. Ben F.
4. Ames (I can’t wait to see his family)


1. Ryan
2. Lucas (strong showing for Texas. Sorry you had to wear a dress on your final show)

With that out of the way, we progress toward the Emily Needs Closure Interview. Surprisingly, I’m not going to belabor this point, nor am I going to give a play by play of the interview. Emily looked radiant as always, and yes, I did notice the white skirt. Harrison broke out his Money suit instead of the Men’s Warehouse ones he wears for Ashley interviews too.

My take on this is that she seems like a nice person who wants to be a mother and have a normal life. She seemed genuinely upset and I believed she was sincere. She recognized that putting herself on television was her responsibility and took the high road by not blaming Brad’s permanent bachelor mentality or Axe Body Spray for the demise of her relationship with him. Oh, and she looked hot doing it. I’m going to reserve judgment until we see if she takes the next Bachelorette gig. Did I mention she looked hot?

Well, there it is. With the Amazing Count at a respectable 67 and the Journey Count at a disappointing 15 we head back to the U.S. A. for the hometown dates. I’m certain things will get interesting (let’s hope so) from here on out. Again, I’m sorry for the delayed posting, but sometimes responsibility gets in the way of the fun. I hope it was worth the wait. Until next week, take care of yourselves, enjoy your Summer, and if you need me, I’ll be ironing my red, backless, pants—in Charlotte, of course. DP

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Pre Bachelorette Recap Episode 7: Tai-want this Season to be Over Already

Hello, Loyal Readers.  Some Guy is traveling for work today and I can't post just yet.  Sorry for the delayed gratification, but it's looking like late tonight or early Wednesday morning depending on how many Lone Stars I ingest in the airport bar.  I'm treating this week's post like I would a Fantasy Suite date:  I'll try and get it up as fast as I can. 

Love, DP