Emily Episode 3: Emily's Pole Position

Hello, Readers.  Welcome back to the next installment of Emily’s overly optimistic search for a normal guy with no significant issues.  Monday’s episode featured some Bachelorette franchise staples such as poor dancing, roller coaster riding, office building wall climbing and subsequent metaphoring, and emasculated men crying—albeit in an alley rather than atop balcony.  It also explored some new territory, including but not limited to steroid enraged monchichis, a new take on feminine attire for men, abject early-season ball busting, and a couple of guys unwittingly eliminating themselves from the hunt. All in all, Emily maintained her composure fairly well and I managed to make it through without consuming additional Lone Star Beer.  I know you’re anxious for the breakdown.  Let’s get to it.   

We begin with a shot of Emily’s free horse and end up in Emily’s free house where her mother brings her a free breakfast in her free bed in her free bedroom as Little Ricki embodies our collective disdain for the situation by remaining outside the prying eye of the camera.  Emily’s mother proves she’s been smoking for the better part of her life by highlighting the sandpaper in her vocal chords and talking Emily about the upcoming day.

In the meantime, the men sit around the MAN-sion in feminine t-shirts watching the veins in Ryan’s neck slowly begin to swell like the small fissures in the Earth’s crust near Pompeii a few hours before Mt. Vesuvius erupted.  We’ll get to him and his Hulk-like transformation later in the post.  It’s amazing how much the Hulk’s hairdo looks likes a Monchichi’s hairdo, isn’t it?

  

Perhaps paying his own silent tribute to the troops on Memorial Day, Harrison appears in some sort of odd pseudo military jacket thing and announces the rules we all know prior to dropping the date card we all expect and hightailing it off the grounds to make his tee time with the governor.   

Stage fright Charlie ignores his well-documented fears of reading aloud and being in front of an audience and reads aloud in front of an audience.  "Love is a steady climb,” the Date Card reads and Chucklehead Chris is thrilled to get the big date. 

Incidentally, I hope all of you appreciate the irony that Charlie is the first contestant in Bachelor history who actually avoids balconies rather than seeking them out in order to cry off of them.   If only one of Jake’s balconies would have been built by the same subcontractor that built Charlie’s friend’s balcony I wouldn’t have had to endure seeing that A-hole intermittently prance around my television screen for the past two years pretending to be a pilot. 

Chucklehead packs his bags, proclaims that it’s his “time to shine,” and heads out to meet Emily and her Motorcycle tank top in downtown Charlotte.  They “so excited” each other before strolling “aimlessly” toward some place called “Mint.”  I’ll skip over this portion of the date except to say that if you’re really enthralled with what Some Guy might write about this sort of thing, just open up any of my previous posts in any other season where this exact date has taken place with the exception of the location. 

The best and most Fifty Shades of Grey-esque line was inadvertently uttered by Chris when he noted that Emily “looks unbelievable in a harness.”  Amen, Chucklehead.  Amen.  They climb the wall, high five, and head to dinner while the guy with the boom mike sits there questioning his career choice and praying that the lightening storm moving through downtown won’t find the end of that long metal pole he has to hold in order to capture meaningless conversation.  You could almost hear “Dear Lord, please don’t let me go out like this,” coming from the inside of his cranium. 

After some small talk, Chris proves he’s certainly one of the more mature guys in the house in addition to reassuring Emily that despite being 25, he’s aware of what he’s signing up for—a “package deal.”  Frankly, I was impressed with the way he handled the situation and I’m not so sure that Emily wouldn’t do well to get a guy his age with a desire to commit rather than chasing down another 40 year old boy like Womack with severe commitment and self-involvement issues.

That’s not a judgment on 40 year old single guys.  My point is that 40 year old single guys are usually single that long for a reason.  I understand Emily’s attraction to an “older guy,” but younger might be the way to go for her.  I’m just sayin’.  Of course, this logic doesn’t apply to certain well-established, handsome, athletic, and charming attorneys in Austin, Texas who may or may not be interested in her.  Annnnyyyhoooo . . .

After dinner, they stroll “aimlessly” again and happen upon a Luke Bryan concert.  In light of the impending appearance by Dolly Parton—one of the most prolific songwriters in music history and one of the best pure singers to ever grace a stage—I think it’s an appropriate time to differentiate “pop country” from real “country.”  Luke Bryan—in a word—sucks.  There’s like 50 of that guy on the radio right now.  He performs both of his songs about speakers going boom boom while invoking every redneck stereotype imaginable as Chris bears the fruits of his labor by attempting to dance with Emily, eventually getting permission to kiss her.  Eventually, the velvet ropes are lifted and the adoring crowd of locals is allowed to enter the dance floor after being given strict “don’t’ touch the talent or you’ll deal with the full wrath of ABC” instructions.  Nice work, Chucklehead.  Nice work. 

Back at the MAN-sion, Tony the Lumber Guy breaks the rules by using a cell phone to call his kid and Jef manages to find the Group Date Card in the absence of a doorbell ring.  He wasn’t about to give up, let anyone down, run around, or hurt anyone.  He wasn’t going to make them cry, say goodbye, or desert them. 

Charlie, Alejandro, Stevie, Ryan, Allesandro, Sean, Wolf, Micheal, Doug, Jef, Tony, and Travis get the "Let's play. . . " Date Card and we begin to see the set up for Tony’s epic meltdown unfold.    

After seeing the canned flying geese footage for the third time in three episodes, we see the standard striped shirt, baggy shorts, Reservoir Dogs-esque chump walk toward a football-bearing Emily in the park.  Ryan’s veins subside for a bit at the thought of hearkening back to his football days as he still remains under the impression that commitment minded women view physical prowess and aggressive behavior as the top two qualifications in a husband. No one has the heart to tell him that only sluts do that.   

Ryan opts for the black t-shirt like Linus from Peanuts opts for his blanket.   Beefy Doug and Sean lay back choosing to survey the battlefield rather than jumping into the fray of swinging dongs vying for Emily’s attention.  Doug also goes black t-shirt—although it appeared that he washed the thing in hot water—as an effective cancellation of Ryan’s black t-shirt.  Ryan pretends not to notice. 

By the way, if that little coincidence happened to the women on the Bachelor, one of them would cry an the other one would have to go home and change while the other women comforted the crier insisting that she bought the outfit first and that it looked better on her. 

Jef laments his puffed up hair and lack of a puffed up chest.  The guy literally looked like he was 10 years old on the playground minus the Astley hair.  Emily meets her less-attractive, yet fiercely loyal frumpy mom friends and lets them know they’ll be screening the men.  Two of them appear mildly amused and ready to have a bit of fun with the exercise while the one we will come to know as “Wendy” froths at the mouth relishing the opportunity to demean multiple members of the male gender.  Let the ball busting begin. 

Emily breaks the news to the guys and Alejandro immediately regrets the pink v-neck and diamond stud earrings. 

Let me summarize this little exercise.  Push ups, dancing, and monkey tricks seem to be the ultimate test for a qualified husband according to Wendy.  I'm sure some of you were laughing at this segment, but the man-hater had me pissed.  I'm sure her emasculated husband was at home doing whatever his handwritten list told him to do (and ultimately would be done “wrong” in Wendy’s eyes) in addition to watching their child while she attempted to castrate some more men.  She was unnecessarily condescending and I have to say that I would have told her to head back to her house and boss her own husband around rather than jump through whatever hoop met her fancy. 

Think I’m overreacting?  Just reverse the tables.  You think that segment would ever happen on the Bachelor?  Picture a group of men getting a hold of 25 nubile, anxious to please bachelorettes in the park and being given a license to ask them questions like that. 

Touch your elbows behind your back

Can you stand and hold your breath while your head is between your legs?

Do you put out on a first date?

What are you willing to do in the Fantasy Suite?

Do you have hot friends for us? 

The list goes on.  Bottom line is that I didn’t find that bit “fun” or “playful.”  Wendy took a little too much pleasure in her ball busting role.  Thankfully, a group of kids shows up and we all pray that the men have been properly screened through the North Carolina Sex Offender Database in addition to that fat guy with the leather hat who helped Roz pack her sh*t.  No surprise, the dads do well and guys like Alejandro half-ass it while trying not to mess up their Armani Exchange t-shirts. 

Ryan gives up on the kids and comes and talks to the girls.  Wendy continues to be a pig, but Ryan one ups her by telling Emily “if you got fat, I'd love you just not on you.”  Nice, douchebag.  Look, we all know that we don’t want our significant other to balloon up like Elvis in 1977, but that’s not something you lead with during the nascent stages of a courtship.  Perhaps the Gamma Rays coursing through his bloodstream clouded his judgment.  We wouldn’t like him when he’s angry….

Emily removes her “mom clothes”—if only every mom dressed like that—in favor of a gold mini-skirt and a silk top.  We head for the VIP lounge at Butter Night Club where she makes a toast before sipping on a Michelle Money sized glass of Chardonnay.  She talks to Sean.  He hasn't dated in over a year and gives her the "my parents are in love," "my family," "my future," “my faith” speech being sure to include everything she likes. 

Note to single women:  Sean is probably a nice guy.  He seems sincere.  However, that little “my life is perfect and I haven’t dated in a year because of it” speech is a red flag.  That usually translates into “you will never meet my expectations” or “I’m a secret homosexual and I can’t tell my parents” situation.  Let’s hope I’m wrong in this case. 

She next meets with Beefy I-Love-to-Hug Doug who kisses her ass and tells her what she wants to hear.  I don't trust him for some reason.  At this point I can't really put my finger on why, but something isn’t right.  He brings tears to Emily’s eyes with his my mom left my epileptic dad and we had to go to foster care story.  For a second, I thought he was recapping the Broadway play Annie.  I half expected him to burst into the opening verse of “It’s a Hard Knock Life” while Tony, Allesandro, and Jef danced with brooms in the background.  Harrison would have made a hell of a Daddy Warbucks.     

Tony appears wearing a ridiculous sweater that Kalon loaned him.  I wondered if it was a luxury brand sweater.  It appeared fancy enough to be a luxury brand sweater but only a luxury brand consultant would likely be able to know for sure.    

Back at the Mansion Kalon, Arie, Nate, and Chris talk about nothing before Arie gets the   "Love is a wild ride" Date Card.  Kalon sweats in his luxury brand glasses.

Tony melts down like Pavelka on a balcony and Emily sends him packing.  I think we’d all agree that little chain of events was what we call a Win-Win.  Tony was clearly never in the running and he knew it.  Emily knew it too and had the decency to see the open door and allow him to walk through it.  Tony seemed nice enough, albeit a tad whiny.  I hope his kid was as excited to see him as he was to get home.  Ironically, I think Tony learned more about his priorities than if he’d stuck around “looking for love” or whatever.   Sean gets the date rose and, let’s face it, he earned it.  Ryan’s blood pressure begins to rise despite his attempt to display confidence in the presence of a threat.  That’s classic Alpha Male behavior, Ryan.  Emily is likely smart enough to see that. 

Let me just preface the Arie date by saying that I love the fact that Emily is choosing places that hold deep childhood memories as locations for her dates.  We’ve seen a small piece of this in the past but usually have to wait until home towns to do it.  However, I’ve said before that I’m a big believer that a person cannot truly know another person until he’s been to where she grew up as a child.  This is particularly true in the case of a small town girl.  Unlike Joe, Arie turned out to be perfect for this type of date.

We head to Dollywood in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee.  For those of you who have never been, Dollywood is exactly what you’d imagine.  It’s a cross between Branson, Missouri and a Shreveport, Louisiana Casino.  It’s like the Dukes of Hazard meets Dynasty.  Like Emily, I happen to be a huge Dolly Parton fan.  I realize that most of you reading this associate her with her giant boobs, giant wigs, and know she’s the woman who wrote that “Bodyguard song that Whitney Houston sings,” but there’s a lot more to the story. 

Dolly Parton has written over 3,000 songs, plays 15 instruments, and gives a ton of money and time to charity without stepping in front of a television camera every time she does it.  She was given her start by a guy named Porter Wagner and she never forgot it.  After years of struggling and finally making it big, Dolly purchased Porter Wagner’s entire song catalog from the record company that owned it and gave it to him on his birthday just a few years before he died.  She’s a walking stereotype, but she happens to be a decent person.  I think we’d all agree that many people in her shoes (or boots) don’t remain that way.  Back to Emily.     

Dolly shows up and Emily is floored.  Say what you want about that, but that's like me meeting Elvis or any of you meeting your childhood hero.  I once got a close friend of mine back stage at a Rockabilly festival to meet Jerry Lee Lewis, his childhood hero.  I literally watched a grown man turn back into boy when he met him.  That was a pretty cool moment and I’ll never forget it.  Not many of us get that opportunity and it was nice to see Emily appreciate it.  Arie did a great job of simply standing back and letting her enjoy her moment.    

A dinner Arie scores a ton more points with the I lived with a woman and loved her kids story.  He’ll make the Fantasy Suite unless the wheels come off the Formula One car.  He might not even need a pit stop.  I’ve said before that the key to understanding another person is not doing big things but constantly being aware of the small things they say in subconscious moments and then acting on them. 

Emily uttered, "I feel like I don't have a lot of talents but I am a good mom.”  Notwithstanding the fact that I think Emily has many “talents,” that statement says a lot about her and it explains volumes about who she is as a person.  I think we’ll all get a big dose of Emily as a protective mother as the season progresses.  She’s insecure but sees redemption of all of her faults in her role as a mother raising her daughter.  She defines herself through her child.  Any guy who doesn’t latch on to that and respect it is going to be sent packing.  Indeed, any guy who ignores it will likely get hit by flames coming from her mouth.   

Arie earns the rose and Emily heads home to powder her nose for the cocktail party.  Kalon also powders his nose and lets us know that he’s borrowed the Canadian teacher's lesbian glasses.  He’s such a self-important, pretentious prick, isn’t he?  Ryan throws a gray jacket and slacks over his (surprise) black v-neck and the guys head to the cocktail party. 

Kalon and his lack of socks get some time with Emily.  “I never had to share much in my life,” he tells Emily.  Translation:  I’m a spoiled asshole.  He then makes a classic Patrick Bateman from American Psycho mistake telling Emily, "I love it when you talk but I'd wish you'd let me finish."  The difference is that Emily is not a paid prostitute in Patrick Bateman’s penthouse.  She drops, "I do like tall, skinny, and funny, but I don't like tall, skinny, and condescending."  Amen.  Frankly, I couldn't have said it much better.  I've made no secret about the fact that I hate this guy.  That's a pretty strong word considering what I do here each week, but I believe this is one of the few times where it actually fits.  My biggest disappointment is that Kalon and Stevie won’t get to have a Blaine vs. Ducky type conflict now that Stevie popped and locked himself off the show.  Sigh….

 

Travis and his stupid egg are up next.  That stunt fell flatter than Jeff’s mask a couple of seasons ago.  At least he didn’t swim with it.  I know this is episode 3 but this whole bit was old 4 weeks ago.  They FINALLY get rid of the egg.  I’m inclined to believe that as Shelly the Egg went, so will Travis. 

Emily has a compulsory one on one with Allesandro who looks like he's spent entirely too much time at the pool and not enough time in hair and makeup.  Look, I know English is his second language but the word "compromise" was not a wise choice when he's discussing the person who has been billed as the Alpha and Omega of Emily's life with the person who did the billing.  He talks himself out of step-fatherhood.  Muy malo, Allesandro.  Adios, Pendejo. 

Emily seeks comfort and sips a whiskey sour with Arie.  Could he have been any more brilliant in that moment?  Comforting, kissing, empathizing, listening.  Very nice work, Arie.  I believe you just earned a legitimate shot at the pole position.  Sean gets a kiss to prove that he’s still in the running, but I think Arie ruled the day.    

Harrison shows up in a purple oxford with the ubiquitous champagne glass and butter knife.  Ryan completes his transformation from nice, first-date, Georgia guy who works with kids to big, meaty, alpha male, jealous guy with underlying anger issues.  His ridiculous facial hair looked like that guy who ran the Hunger Games then had to eat the poison berries and kill himself after Catniss and the baker’s son outsmarted whoever they outsmarted.  He refers to Arie as "a dainty man."  Whatever lets you sleep at night, no neck.  Arie’s fitted Formula One jumpsuit looks a lot better on him than your old football jersey does on you these days.  The guy went from guaranteed crotch to bona fide chach inside of one episode.  I haven’t seen a meltdown like that in a long time. 

Roses are handed out and it goes down as follows:    

Rose Ceremony.

1.         Arie

2.         Sean

3.         Jef

4.         Charlie

5.         Doug (no hug)

6.         Michael (huh?)

7.         Travis

8.         Alejandro

9.         Ryan

10.       Wolf

11.       Kalon (weak)

12.       Nate

Gone.

1.         Tony

2.         Stevie

3.         Allesandro

Well, there you have it.  With the Amazing count at a steady 17 and the Journey count at a stagnant 6, we head into week four.  Take care of yourselves and thanks for reading and commenting.  In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be angrily ironing my black v-neck t-shirts after washing them in hot water.  DP

Bachelorette Emily Episode 2: The Herd Thins

Welcome back, Readers.  I’m thrilled the season is in full force but I could have done without the stiff, stuffing-filled, string-operated characters and their inane scripted dialogue.  On the other hand, it was nice to see the Muppets.

 As we gain momentum this season, I’d like to point out that, pursuant to the articulately expressed insistence of some readers, I am desperately in search of some criticism of Emily beyond her veneers.  I’ll keep you well-posted as to my findings.  I’m no longer blissfully blind when it comes to her obvious charms; however, she appears to be a genuinely nice person and, frankly, a dedicated mother in search of a real dude to take out the trash and put up with her garbage.  I, for one, am actually rooting for her to find the prince in the heaping pile of toads this season. 

This week’s well-deserved shout out goes to the heretofore absent Derek and The Boys.  I know I speak for all of the heterosexuals reading this when I say that your contributions to the Comment section of the blog were sorely missed.  Granted, that’s a different kind of soreness that I’d imagine you and The Boys experience, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.  Welcome back to South Beach.  I hope your many adventures overseas were fulfilling.  I’d ask to hear about your adventures abroad, but I doubt there were any broads involved.  It’s nice to have my gay contingency back in the States.  Now, let’s get to it.        

We lead off with shots of the indigenous flora and fauna mulling peacefully around Emily’s Enchanted Forest, Charlotte, North Carolina with her daughter before she dumps the kid off with the frumpy moms and their minivans in the neighborhood park before hopping in her free Tahoe and heading to meet the crew for her morning taping session.  In the meantime, a French blue-clad Harrison drops the “Use Your Time Wisely” a/k/a “C*ck Block Whenever It’s Feasible To Do So” speech on the guys in the courtyard before heading out to judge day three of the Carolina Panther Cheerleader auditions. 

Resident chucklehead Chris grabs the “Be My King in the Queen City” date card and announces that Ryan and his odd haircut is the first big winner.  Oblivious to the invitation’s juxtaposition of royal titles in an attempt to appear clever, a gracious Ryan tactfully accepts the date card while screaming for joy inside.  Speaking of queens, albeit closeted ones, Kalon writhes inside still struggling with his feelings for Emily while simultaneously admiring the rigid symmetry of Ryan’s biceps and envying his strong jaw line. 

Ryan packs while the remaining men “bro” each other in vibrantly colored deep v-necks and bold board shorts at the pool as if they were male birds vying for the attention of the single female sitting stoically in the bushes.  Whatever.  Emily arrives in her free Tahoe and picks Ryan up like a 5 year old waiting for the Car Pool Mom to honk in the driveway so he can go on the yearly field trip to the local planetarium.  All he needed was a sack lunch and a note containing his home address, food allergies, and emergency contact number pinned to his turquoise shirt to complete the humiliation. 

While Ryan wonders aloud what excitement awaits him Emily takes him back to her free house and makes him unload her free groceries . . . for free . . . before baking cookies and slicing oranges to be timely delivered to Little Ricki’s soccer game.  Ryan stews in regret, quietly disappointed that he’s wasted one use of his turquoise deep v-neck.  He should have stuck with the black one he had on earlier.  After all, he’s probably got a dozen of those in his suitcase whereas the turquoise one is solely for the purpose of seduction.  Sigh. . .

Emily delivers the cookies and oranges as Ryan is forced to remain---like Quasimodo in the bell tower—out of the view of Little Ricki and the other respectable citizens in the community.  “Mommy, why is there a giant Monchichi in a turquoise deep v-neck sitting in our free Tahoe,” asks Little Ricki as the camera crew steps softly around the other six year olds.  Emily tactfully ignores the question before splitting a juice box with Ryan in her free Tahoe. 

I’ll say this:  Emily must have driven one hell of a bargain when ABC was begging her to do the show.  Soccer games, cookie baking, and Muppet plays featuring Little Ricki as the big finale aren’t exactly what I had in mind when this season began.  Again, it appears that Emily’s money is where her mouth is when it comes to making sure Little Ricki is well taken care of this season.  Now if only the cameras were where Emily’s boobs are.  Annnnyyyyhooo . . .

After getting screwed out of an adventure date—although I would argue that making cookies with Emily beats the hell out of strapping oneself to a bridge and jumping off of it and subsequently making metaphorical comparisons about bridges and jumps and obstacles and love—Ryan cheerfully dons his Rainman suit and heads to Osso for dinner with Emily who looked incredible in her little red dress.  I’m convinced that it’s impossible for her to look bad at any angle at any time.  She’s like the Grand Canyon for crying out loud.  Say what you want about me, but she’s a beautiful broad. 

Dinner seems to go well and I thought Ryan—odd hairdo and all—actually seemed like a pleasant, humble guy.  He scored major Emily points when he referred to “Ricki and our other children” and discussing “our” future with Emily.  Note to everyone who follows Ryan:  That’s an example of incredible pre-date preparation.  His days of watching film in dimly lighted locker rooms in order to bone up on the offensive formations of his football opponents clearly paid dividends on the date.  The guy was one Axe Body Spray scent selection away from the Fantasy Suite.  It earned him a rose.  Nice work, Ryan.  He managed a first one-on-one date, an at home cookie baking session, and earned a rose all without drawing the ire of the guys at the mansion.  That’s much harder to do than he made it look.  “Ricki and our other children?”  Genius. 

Emily chooses some naughty white oxford shirt and librarian hairdo to tell us about Ryan (she should have borrowed Aaron’s lesbian glasses to complete the look) and they eventually have an incredibly awkward dance among hundreds of pre-invited locals at a two song concert from some alt-rock college band I’ve never heard of before.  All in all, it was a solid date. 

Ding Dong.  Chucklehead Chris gets the Group Date Card and reads aloud. 

Alejandro, Nate, Michael, Alessandro, Tony, Wolf, Jef, Charley, Kyle, Chris, Eric, Stevie, and Kalon get the “Let’s Set the Stage for Love” group date card and Kalon hits the closeted homosexual nail deeper into the my-father-would-cut-off-my-unearned-and-undeserved-trust-fund-money-if-he-knew-I-was-gay coffin by professing his comfort in and love of the theater. “It is not love that should be depicted as blind, but self-love,” said Voltaire.  If that’s the case, then Kalon is as blind as that Chinese activist the American taxpayers just paid to bring over here last week.

The Group Date starts off with a Reservoir Dogs-esque chump walk as the men arrive at the theater and discover—much to their poorly hidden chagrin—that they will be performing show tunes and variety numbers to a packed theater with the Muppets.  At first I wondered why Kermit the Frog was hanging out with Chantal, but then I realized it was Miss Piggy.  Alright, that was mean and uncalled for but I’ll let you decide if Chantal’s inexplicable, non-thyroid-induced weight gain during Brad’s season is funny or not.  If forced, I’d apologize for that joke.  Back to Emily. 

I’ll gloss over the rest of what had to be a slow, excruciating day for all of the participants on the date.  Hell, even the Muppets looked tired.  The first highlight came when an obviously distraught Charley met with Emily and explained that his head injury caused him significant speech problems; some of which would prevent him from speaking lines in front of a packed house. 

I laughed when I saw him confessing, but not at Charley’s injury.  I laughed because of all of the people who could understand being purposefully and unwittingly put in a producer-contrived situation involving the most traumatic event in a person’s life Emily is infinitely qualified.  I half expected her to laugh and say, “yea, they put me in a private jet like the one that killed my fiance and then made me drive a NASCAR around a race track.”  Instead, a gracious and empathetic Emily agrees to make the change.  I’ll give the guy credit.  That had to be a tough call for a guy that size and in that situation to make.  I’ve changed my stance on him although I still think he’s going home early.

The second priceless moment came when Wolf dropped the “What’s the difference between Kermit the Frog and Stevie” joke followed by the “Kermit would never wear that hat” punchline followed by “I have a rule:  if you’re a dude and you have Louis Vuitton luggage, you’re a f*g,” regarding Kalon.  Solid work, Wolf.  Perhaps he should change his nickname to “Hyena.” 

Post theater, the boys retire to the rooftop bar at the Garrison Hotel and Chucklehead Chris wastes no time attempting to fumble the first-impression rose he slipped into last week.  Dude, you’ve tasted the end zone.  Act like you’ve been there before.  He clearly could have used lessons from Jef, who went with the ignoring the hottest chick on the planet strategy this week.  Frankly, that strategy hasn’t been effectively used by a guy with a nickname ending in a single “F” since the founder of Playboy.  Girls like Emily—no matter how sweet and sincere—are not used to being openly ignored.  Jef’s IQ is perhaps as high as his hair.  He capped off the conversation with: 

“We're no strangers to love
You know the rules and so do I
A full commitment's what I'm thinking of
You wouldn't get this from any other guy
I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling
Gotta make you understand
Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry
Never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you”

Nice work, Jef. 

Ding Dong.  A nervous Sean learns that Joe and the Kermit the Frog hoodie that Kalon got him at the theater gets the “Come Close to My Heart” one on one.  Man, that’s such a loaded statement.  It’s too bad I’m such a nice guy.  Back to the C*ck Block Party on the Garrison roof. 

Before I waste a lot of your—and more importantly my—valuable time rehashing the cocktail party, let me simply characterize the entire thing as a testosterone and alcohol-filled exercise in poor attempts at one-upsmanship.  Kalon has the balls to tell us that he’s never had to compete for a woman while clad in his white cardigan sweater, blue gingham oxford, and boat shoes.  I suppose that’s a true statement considering the fact that most of the places he frequents don’t allow actual women. 

I haven’t researched this p*ssy, but I know the type.  I’d be willing to bet a year’s pay that he’s a spoiled brat from Houston who trots around various country clubs and charity events doing his best Christian Gray impression trying to convince himself that his increasingly overwhelming attraction to the male wait staff is nothing more than a passing phase.  He probably went to Southern Methodist University in Dallas and majored in something vague like “Entrepreneurship” or “International Marketing.”

He was unquestionably a member of some fraternity filled with over-privileged, under-worked silver spooners like himself named Hunter Something IV or Rex Baxter III or something similar.  He drove a black SUV, went skiing in Vail every spring break and is likely guilty of a host of date rapes, either directly or by association.  At the end of the day, this guy heads back to his own version of the Red Room of Pain he’s created in the expensive River Oaks condo his grandfather’s company bought for him and struggles with the crushing realization that his father will never really respect him; rather he will simply award him the corner office without regard to merit because he is his father’s son.  He is materialistic, shallow, and—deep down—terrified of mirrors because he has to look at himself in the face.  Alternatively, he might actually be the narcissistic prick he appears to be.  Either way, he’s an as*hole.      

Eventually, after the d*ck measuring contest plays out, Jef, who has remained artfully outside of the controversy earns the Safety Rose and Chucklehead Chris laments Emily’s choice.  Now it’s Joe’s turn.

Joe, although he’s about to get dumped like a load of West Virginia coal, draws the private jet to White Sulphur Springs date as he and Emily arrive at the site of many of her childhood jaunts, The Greenbreir.  When I heard West Virginia images of coal mines and illegal distilleries popped into my head.  However, I seriously doubt Emily’s daddy ever descended into the depths of anything more hostile than a wine cellar based upon the looks of that place. 

The entire date was more forced than a Brad Womack pre-rose ceremony toast and we all felt as bad as Emily did when Joe got dumped.  She was right, he’s a nice guy who simply didn’t fit into her life.  On the up side, he did get to share a swim with Emily in the pool and I was thankful at the quick zoom in the cameraman executed when Emily disrobed.  The “pause” button on my DVR has been rubbed blank . . . in addition to certain parts of my anatomy.  That wasn’t easy to do without spilling my Lone Star.

Thank you, folks.  My first anatomy joke and beer reference of the season. 

Back at the MAN-sion, Kalon continues to annoy the men in board shorts and eventually receives a lecture from the meated out Doug on his fatherhood status.  As much as I hate to admit it, Kalon actually had a point about Doug leaving his kid back in Hug Land or wherever he’s from in order to go on the show.  As mad and veiny as Doug got, I think Kalon’s point was valid.  Granted, it should have been left unmade, but it was valid.  That doesn’t discount the fact that Doug might actually be a good father, but poolside lectures to half-buzzed and fatherless twenty-somethings on a reality show are not akin to political nomination acceptance speeches.  The audience is likely to be hostile.  Doug clearly needed a hug. 

After crying for the sake of Joe’s feelings, Emily returns home to put Little Ricki to bed before her GILF-y mom helps her into a purple little number in preparation for the cocktail party.  “Mommy, why is guy in black hat who helped Roz pack her sh*t hanging out in our free house?” says Little Ricki before fading off into the sleep of angels.  Emily hits the road for the mansion and the cocktail party begins in earnest. 

 

Again, it’s useless to rehash these things moment by moment at this stage of the season; however, I think we’ll all agree that the highlight came when Tony the Lumber Guy was forced to stand guard while a clearly embarrassed Emily read the seven page cliché filled missive carefully crafted by Ryan in memorial to their errand running session that morning.  Seven pages?  It might as well have started, “Call Me Ishmael,” for God’s sake.  That guy would benefit if he learned the simple yet elegant structure of the Haiku.  Here’s one I thought of:

Ryan and his hair

Sends nice words to Emily 

Written in Crayon

See how effective that can be.  Annnnyyyyhooo . . . .

Kalon sits alone and is ironically insulted by Wolf (I’ve come to love that guy) when the editors allow him to rehash the now forever classic Louis Vuitton luggage line.  Harrison enters, gray tie and all, to dispense with the tomfoolery and commence with the rose ceremony.  It went down as follows.

Roses

1.                  Ryan

2.                  Jef

3.                  Kalon

4.                  Arie

5.                  Michael

6.                  Nate

7.                  Sean

8.                  Chucklehead Chris

9.                  Give me Hug Doug

10.              Travis

11.              Tony

12.              Wolf

13.              Alessandro

14.              Charley (he was speechless)

15.              Alejandro

16.              Stevie

Sent home were Joe, Kyle, and Lesbian Glasses Aaron.  And so it goes.  With the Amazing count at 12 and the Journey count at a static 6 we head into next week where the herd will be thinned a bit more.  Enjoy your week and I’ll be back on Tuesday.  In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll drinking in my board shorts.  DP

Emily Episode 1: Fifty Shades of Gay

Well hello, Readers.  Welcome back to those of you who took the Off-Season off and welcome back to those of you who stuck around despite the absence of a bona fide “journey to find love.”  I spent most of Monday in deep reflection trying to put my mind in the proper posture for the manufacture of subtle anatomy jokes and my usual brand of adolescent humor.  It’s up to you to decide if I was successful. 

As always, there are a few ground rules for this post since it’s the most difficult of the season to get through.  Below is an alphabetical listing of the “men” enlisted to valiantly attempt to win Emily’s affections rather than a chronological play by play of the show.  I’ll get to my take on our Bachelorette a bit later in my riveting analysis.  Frankly, I think the only person more excited than me to see Emily last night was Harrison.  He looked like an eighth grader hiding under the bleachers while the cheer leading squad was sitting above him.  At least he’ll be interested in hosting this season.  He’s snoozed through the last couple.  Now, let’s get to it.

We begin in standard fashion.  Emily and the heretofore not so anonymous Ricki gallivant around various Charlotte parks in seasonal attire pretending like the cameras aren’t there.  Emily rehashes the horror of her previous life in addition to generally mentioning a certain former bachelor who she may have wanted to marry once. 

Incidentally, our buddy Mr. Womack is now no longer a resident of Austin, Texas.  He’s apparently moved to Houston in order to oversee the acquisition of a few more bars that he and his investors have been eyeing for some time.  I’ll certainly miss seeing him at the gym a few times a week and I’m certain that Axe Body Spray will have to adjust its inventory accordingly.  Odds are he’s going to place himself pretty far away from the television on Monday nights and after seeing the Putz Parade last night I can’t say that I blame him.  Brad is not a bad guy and I wish him luck.  Back to Emily.

After telling us that Brad “showed her lots of things she didn’t know existed in men” (like giant back tattoos and blatant commitment issues), Emily shifts gears to the task at hand as she wanders around her free house, wears her free 30 foot scarf, and rides her free horse.  It’s lonely in Charlotte, apparently, and the only cure available is a nationwide idiot hunt. 

A rejuvenated Harrison emerges from the soft purple hue of the mansion lights to recap—yet again—Emily’s on again, off again search for the right man after the death of her beloved race car driver.  I’m certain Harrison has to be sick of that breakdown but he sells it like the finely tuned professional that he’s proven himself to be.  Incidentally, in light of his pending divorce, I’m certain the prospect of watching the pettiness unfold over the course of the next 8 weeks is nauseating to him.  Then again, I’m certain that fat paycheck he’s getting will buy a lot of Pepto Bismol.  And thus, we begin.      

Aaron, 36, Biology Teacher from Nova Scotia.  He shows up in some ridiculous Buddy Holly glasses and an even more ridiculous line about teaching biology but being there to see if he has chemistry with Emily.  Much to my chagrin, Aaron got a rose at the end of the show.  I suppose he did just enough to survive.  If he had been dismissed, I’m certain he would have high tailed it like a draft dodger back to his home country and pooted aboot it over a few Moosehead beers.  Congratulations on surviving a poor joke, Aaron.  My advice?  Erase the chalkboard and start over.  Losing those glasses is a good start.  He looked like a lesbian working at a health food store.     

Alejandro, 24, Mushroom Farmer from Columbia.  He arrives to the confused stares of sweet and patient Emily with his diamond stud earrings in place and further confuses her by speaking Spanish and telling her he’s a mushroom farmer.  The guy doesn’t exactly have “step-father” written all over him  . . . in English or in Spanish.  Que lastima, Alejandro.  Oh, and congratulations on choosing to grow what is undoubtedly the least lucrative crop a person can grow in Columbia.  In spite of himself, he got a rose.      

Alessandro, 30, Grain Merchant from Uberlandia, Brazil.  This guy is pretty much the Alejandro of Brazil.  Trade out the earrings for some Bieber hair, substitute mushrooms for grain, and make the switch from Spanish to Portuguese and he’s pretty much the same guy.  Emily looked really uncomfortable either due to the fact that she didn’t understand Portuguese or, more likely, because of his hair cut.  He got a rose.  I was Uber-surprised.     

Arie, 30, Race Car Driver from the Netherlands.  I think it’s more evident than Emily’s prodigious bosom that this guy is going all the way to the Fantasy Suite.  Good looking, charming, and low key are obvious characteristics that will charm the white shorts off Emily and this guy has all three.  Add in the fact that he was considerate enough to address the “I drive race cars is that ok with you” issue up front and he’s going to have a real shot at her checkered flag, if you know what I mean.  Let that be a lesson to douchebags like Kalon who seem to believe that any woman can be wooed with frivolity.  Arie could have gone with the Formula 1 card but didn’t.  Props to him for keeping his giant ace inside of his pocket.  He got a freaking rose.   

Brent, 41, Technology Salesman from Midland, TX.  Nice enough guy with the poor name tag schtick.  She laughed uncomfortably but I think we all know she was unimpressed.  On the up side, Emily wasn’t forced to try and remember his name when she didn’t give him a rose.       

Charlie, 32, Recruiter from Massachusetts.  Look, I know this guy had a horrible accident and suffered a traumatic brain injury.  However, leading with that on a first meeting is probably not a good idea.  It doesn’t help that he shares the name of the lead character in Flowers for Algernon.  If Emily remembers that book from high school, this guy is sure to be toast.  He got a rose, but my guess is that he’s one step above a producer’s pick. 

Chris, 25, Corporate Sales Director from Illinois.  He loves Rascal Flatts and took up WAY too much time with some horsesh*t story about his dad’s advice before he got on the plane to Charlotte.  He made up for it in the one on one with the bobble head bit.  That actually worked but it won’t change the fact that he’s still a Chucklehead.  Nice recovery, Chris.  Keep it up and I shall root for you.     

David, 33, Singer/Songwriter from Charlottesville, VA.  This guy is a Class A Cheese who looks like a poor man’s John Stamos and dresses like it too.  His use of words like “ineffable” is ineffably annoying and he comes across as a pretentious putz.  He tells us that he doesn’t like to “toot his own horn” but I was left with the impression that he spends a lot of time playing with his own horn.  Emily wasn’t buying his act either.  No Rose.  I look forward to hearing the song you write about it on the plane back to your Full House in wherever you store your thesaurus, David. 

Doug, 33, Charity Director/Real Estate Agent from Seattle, WA.  Doug likes to hug.  He also likes to come out swinging.  Props to him for forcing his 11 year old to take dictation and submit a letter to Emily.  She “dug” it and it got him the First Impression Rose . . . and a hug.  Good for that guy.   

Jackson, 29, Fitness Model from Chicago.   Perhaps the biggest idiot in the bunch.  His entrance included a canned line about things in life taking his breath away.  I’m certain he read that on one of the pieces of “artwork” they sell at Bed, Bath, & Beyond right next to the “Live, Laugh, Love” carvings.  Between that and the pink shirt he was batting 1000 in the douche category yet still saw fit to top if off by removing his shirt after he got thrown out and proclaiming “THIS is what she missed.”  Indeed it is, dickhead.  I’m certain she didn’t wake up in a cold sweat and second guess that decision.  Good luck eating your chicken breasts every 4 hours in addition to hitting on every woman within sight.  Have fun at the Hard Rock pool in Vegas this summer.      

Jean-Paul, 35, Marine Biologist.  Canadian who talks like Wayne Gretzky.  Cool job and exotic accent aside the guy was boring and Emily knew it.  There’s no way he’s headed south of Emily’s Maginot Line  He’s oot.  Sigh, yet another loss for the French.  At least he didn’t surrender.  No rose, eh?      

Jef, 27, Entrepreneur from Utah.  Frankly, I’m torn on this one.  The guy wears jean jackets and skinny jeans in addition to riding a skateboard to work and looking like Rick Astley.  His hair is more inflated than Jackson’s ego, yet somehow I liked the guy.  He got a rose.  “Never gonna give you up, Never gonna let you down, Never gonna run around and hurt you.  Never gonna make you cry, Never gonna say goodbye. . .”.       

Joe, 27, Field Energy Advisor from Orlando, FL.  Douchey entrance.  He laid it on as thick as peanut butter and Emily looked extremely uncomfortable.  God bless her muted blond hair and her fantastic little teeth.  The least a guy could do is try and contain himself.  My guess is that Joe is probably a normal guy who will cringe when he watches himself on camera.  He managed a middle of the pack rose last night, but he’ll need to get in early next week and show Emily he can behave like an adult.      

John, 30, Data Destruction Specialist from St. Louis.  His friends call him “Wolf.”  Good, because he’ll likely end up alone.  He got a default rose.         

Kalon, 27, Luxury Brand Consultant from Houston, Texas.  So much for proving me wrong.  He’s obviously this season’s selected bad guy and the helicopter entrance solidified the other guys’ hatred of him early.  It’s nice to see that the producers have chosen to manufacture the villain up front rather than letting that develop over the first couple of shows.  The guy is an idiot, by the way.  We all know he models himself after Christian Bale in American Psycho and he’s obviously in the middle of a severe gay panic.  I hate him and I’m certain you do too.  Let’s hope his story line goes nowhere quickly.  He got a producer’s pick bad guy rose. 

 

Kyle, 29, Financial Advisor from Long Beach.  Leads with this season’s “amazing,” which is “stunning.”  He’s too old to be that tongue tied but managed a “you’re not as bad as the fools I kicked off” rose.  Man up, Kyle.  She’s not looking for unsolicited compliment after compliment.  Emily is into quiet confidence and the maturity required to set an example for her daughter.  To quote my high school basketball coach, “it’s time to show some sack.”  Indeed, you’ll have to present the aforementioned sack in order to stick around.     

Lerone, 29, Real Estate Consultant from Laguna Beach. Which one of these things is not like the others?  I waited for Emily to turn to the off camera help and ask if someone could sign for a delivery when this guy walked up.  He seemed nice enough and I thought he was one of the better looking guys of the bunch but he was also as mute as that guy a few seasons ago who liked Mexican food or whatever.  He failed to make any sort of impression.  Sadly, Lerone ended up alone.  No rose.    

Michael, 26, Rehab Consultant from Tahoka, TX.  Another mute with ridiculous hair who claims to be a musician from Austin.  What happened to Rehab Consultant from Tahoka?  Odd.  Incidentally, moving to Austin and calling yourself a musician is tantamount to moving to Seattle and opening a coffee shop.  I was surprised this guy got a rose.  He pissed me off.        

Nate, 25, Accountant from Scottsdale, AZ.  I’ll give this guy credit for the least stupid entrance.  He kept it low key and simple and even drew a “you smell nice” from an obviously curious Emily.  I’m certain he was wearing Axe Body Spray.  Props to him for doing his research.  We’ll see if his fantastic scent and muted demeanor will carry him past the next round.  I need an accountant to make it to the Fantasy Suite so I can try out my “fat finger” jokes.  Keep your fat fingers crossed.    

Randy, 30, Marketing Manager from Oak Creek, Wisconsin.  Russell Crowe look alike who arrived inexplicably dressed like Norman Bates dressed as Norman Bates’ mother in Psycho.   Ironically, he looked even more ridiculous when he tore off the dress and revealed a lime green shirt and a vest.  A clearly horrified Emily feigned amusement but eventually sent him back to the attic.  His doppelganger quipped in Gladiator, “what we do in life echoes in eternity.”  For Randy’s sake, let’s hope the gods weren’t watching from Elysium when he pulled that stunt.    

Ryan, 31, Pro Sports Trainer from Augusta, GA.  One word:  Monchichi (remember those?)  He got a rose.  Whatever. 

Sean, 28, Insurance Agent from Dallas, Texas.  Here’s another guy with a boring career that kept it simple last night.  He showed up, introduced himself, wrinkled his forehead, and nodded his head affirmatively when Emily spoke.  He shows promise.  He earned a rose.  Nice work, Sean.   

Stevie 26, Party MC from Monroe Township, NJ.  He’s the ying to Kalon’s yang.  He’s an annoying, East Coast cheeseball with a temper.  In other words, he’s the perfect person for Kalon to piss off for a few shows before the producers decide he should go.  His entrance was ridiculous and he reminded me of John Cryer if John Cryer wore Kelly green dress shirts and whined a lot.  He got a rose so he can argue with Kalon for a couple of weeks.    

 

Tony, 31, Lumber Trader from Beaverton, OR.  He should have led with the six year old son instead of that foolish Cinderella slipper nonsense.  He’s got promise but seemed almost as whiney and neurotic as Stevie.  He should show Emily his best wood.  He barely got a rose.       

 

Travis, 30, Advertising Sales Rep. from Madison, MS.  I honestly can’t believe that the frohawk and the ostrich egg didn’t get in the way of his last place rose last night.  Look, a rose is a rose, but this guy better ditch the egg and fix the hair if he wants to stick around.  Like the product of that egg, his entire game is likely to remain flightless.    

Well, there it is.  With the Journey count at 6 and the Amazing count at a respectable 10 we head into what will likely prove to be an interesting season.  Let me say that as much as I fawn over Emily, I do actually like what I see in her as a person.  She seems genuine, humble, and dedicated to her daughter.  Frankly, I think ABC made it worth her while to go on the “journey” and her daughter is apparently going to be there with her on her trip around the world.  That’s an opportunity that she probably couldn’t refuse.  I’ll reserve judgment until the season unfolds. 

It’s good to be back.  I look forward to this season and I’d LOVE to have my comment section overflowing with feedback each week.  Certain things keep me going and that’s certainly one of them.  Until next week, take care of yourselves.  In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be tooting my own horn.  DP