Welcome, Readers. I'm here (barely). Quick thanks to my good friend Lincee (www.ihategreenbeans) Ray for buying me lunch at the Austin landmark Hut's Hamburgers this week and for not judging me on my shaved head. It's triathlon training season and I do that once a year to get in character. Let's get to it.
The Amazing count was at 14 this week if we count 2 "Ah-may-sings"
Journey Count was at 1 if we count 1 "yer-ney"
Howdy, Readers. Welcome to Episode 6 of Juan Pablo’s season. I’d love to lead with a line like “things are really heating up” or “let’s watch the sparks fly” but I haven’t seen either and I’m beginning to think that this might be a giant flop of a season. Granted, I was encouraged when the alcoholic Brazilian sprayed profanity all over the women’s room early in the season but aside from Claire barely keeping it together the only person more bored than me this season is apparently Sharleen. We’ll get to her and her poor attitude in a bit.
This week we head to New Zealand, the place where men are men and sheep are nervous. Juan Pablo sported more scarves this week than all of the women combined. Look, I’m as tolerant as the next guy, but there are certain things a man shouldn’t have. An elaborate scarf collection is one of those things. He also referred New Zealand as (say it with me) the perfect place to fall in love. Yawn.
This is the only kind of guy who should wear a silk scarf.
The women arrive yippee-ing and yay-ing at the Huka Lodge. Yes, I can’t resist a “Hooker Lodge” joke. Sure, it’s tacky, pedestrian, and obvious, but hey, it’s been a long week and I’ll take the low lying fruit when I can get it. The women sport their own complimentary ubiquitous 30 foot scarves and take in the scenery. Cassandra—we all knew she was getting booted early—stands out in her Lululemon Former NBA Dancer gear. Claire unpacks her slut shame baggage where it’s readily accessible. She put it right next to her eye liner and her crazy lotion. “Time Bomb,” I said to Mrs. SGIA. “Time Bomb.”
Andi gets the “Let’s heat things up” Date and Claire fake smiles after reading the card. Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick….
Andi irons her casual, I just threw this together outfit in an attempt to control the Wrinkle Monster. Cassandra talks it out with Renee. As Andi gets ready for her date she actually drops, “Tensions are high.” Please. She’s going on a date with a color blind Spanglish speaker, not heading toward the Cuban coast trying to get the Russians to stand down. Tensions are high? Perhaps she was referring to Claire’s g-string. Annnyyyhooo. . . .
She chooses tight white pants and jackboots and Juan Pablo shows up in a black sweater and red scarf like Little Rojo Riding Hood. They go for an extremely uncomfortable speedboat ride and Andi does a wonderful job ignoring the loss of her hairstyle. No scrunchie? For shame. They head to some place called “The Squeeze.” Frankly, they should have renamed it, “The Bore.”
Andi looked cold and uncomfortable the entire time in her tasteful, conservative one piece. They navigate the tight, overgrown caverns in an attempt to find a warm waterfall so Andi can straddle Juan Pablo and fake make out. “That’s the second time in as many weeks Juan Pablo has found himself inside of a wet, well-traveled cave,” I said giggling into my Lone Star like a school girl.
They try dinner in front of an active geyser before realizing it won’t work. Nice planning, ABC Intern. Andi tells Juan Pablo that she wants to be so in love that her “cheeks hurt.” We assume that she was not making a reference to hurting the same way Claire's “cheeks” hurt. Andi, assepts these rose.
I can’t decide if Andi is a top 3 but I’m sure she’ll make the hometowns. Sharleen and Chelsie are definitely behind her in the running and Sharleen is bound to bow out any time now. My guess is she does it before the hometown dates. We shall see.
Knock Knock. Date Card. Renee reads it.
By the way, I got a particularly judgey Tweet about Renee. It said something to the effect that the Tweeter (is that the correct nomenclature?) wouldn’t go out to wash her car looking like Renee. Ok, Tweeter. I suppose you’re entitled to your opinion and I’ll agree that Renee is super casual. Frankly, she needs whatever the thing is called that separates eyelashes after she puts mascara on, but I find her appearance refreshing. She’s not pretending to be something she’s not and she’s not riding the 30 foot free scarf bandwagon. I find that attractive. The Tweeter also said she looks like Loretta Lynn. Frankly, that’s a good one. However, I’d have gone with Loretta’s much younger sister, Crystal Gayle.
Back to the Group Date.
“Let Love Roll.” Clever. Juan Pablo invites the Ever Bored Sharleen, Chelsie, Renee, Nikki, Kat, Cassandra, The Former 21 Year Old NBA Dancer on the big group date, leaving Claire the default one-on-one. Let me let you in on a little guy logic here, ladies. Juan Pablo wanted her ass back at the Hooker Lounge or whatever so—like a bad apple oozing with fungus—she didn’t pollute the rest of the bunch. She bought it. And he got her away from the bunch until he could deal with her and her baggage.
Before we get to Juan Pablo’s rolling balls I have to ask about the constant face touching exhibited by Juan Pablo. That has to be annoying. Frankly, it’s condescending, which I see a lot in the way Juan Pablo talks to the ladies. He’s dismissive and the face touching and hair adjusting reminds me of that gay guy on the Animal Channel who whispers to dogs. He’s constantly grabbing their snouts in an attempt to get their attention. Juan Pablo is no different. Perhaps I’m nitpicking. Perhaps I’m not.
They get to a giant hill and have a fake picnic before showering each other in sheep feces and jumping into Ogo Balls for a big roll down the hill. All of the women looked great in their swimsuits (Nikki was a standout and Sharleen’s fringe suit was an epic mistake) and Chelsie had the best line of the date. “This reminds me kind of Ohio except we don’t have hills there,” she observes. Honestly, which one of us wasn’t waiting for the inevitable Ohio/New Zealand comparison?
Juan Pablo wastes no time inside of his balls when he makes out with Nikki.
Cocktail party. Juan Pablo vee-seets with Renee. She’s realistic without being crazy. He spends some time with Nikki in her sparkly short dress and Olivia Newton John coat. She takes her turn making out with him. Nikki opens up, which we can tell is not the easiest thing for her.
Wait until she finds out about Claire. He’s a dead man.
Sharleen looked bored and over it. She’s done. In classic female fashion, the women sit around and over think everything about the different kinds of roses and the significance of when and how they are doled out by Juan Pablo. A rose is a rose, ladies. It doesn’t matter when it gets handed out.
Juan Pablo exhibits that condescending behavior I referenced earlier by blatantly ignoring every social cue and even the words coming out of Sharleen’s mouth. He again dismisses her saying he thinks she’s “a leetle es-cared.” The process is “a little inorganic for me,” for me. Inorganic? It’s a darn good thing he left his Spanglish to English Dictionary in his other scarf or he would have realized she wants out. She’s not buying his face touching either.
Cassandra gets ready to be a Former ABC Contestant—on her birthday, no less. Much to her utter shock, Juan Pablo blurts out. “Sharleen wheel you assept these rose?” Combine that with that weird umbrella and Juan Pablo’s invite to go and dump Cassandra on her birthday and they all knew Cassandra was getting the boot. The look on Sharleen’s face was priceless.
Cassandra gets dumped. He didn’t even have the Ogo Balls to level with her and instead went with the “I just can’t keep you from your (illegitimate) son” excuse. Again, dismissive. Cassandra laments her life at the ripe age of 22. Relax, Cassandra. He did you a huge favor. Besides, there are plenty more players in the NBA.
Claire gets the remaining Vietnamese sand out of her hoo ha before dressing like Andi while simultaneously telling us that she’s “having a hard time with what happened in Vietnam.” I presume she was referring to the errant, ill-timed finger banging she got in the ocean and not the protracted war that divided our country in two.
Picnic. She’s looking for an apology. Again, in his dismissive (sexist?) fashion, Juan Pablo refers to the “event” as “my mistake.” Ouch. Claire assures him that she would never do anything that is awkward for his daughter. Uh, too late, Claire. That footage is on the Internet forever. The look on Juan Pablo’s face when she kept busting his Ogo Balls about an issue he was clearly ready to put behind him was even more priceless than Sharleen’s face when she got the unwanted date rose. Claire continues. She won’t let it go. “What are our boundaries?” “Is that our first fight?” “Where are we?” Good Lord, Claire. Let sleeping perros lie, would you? She’s too old not to know better. C.R.A.Z.Y.
Look, if the comments last week are any indicator, y’all are going to be defending her. The fact is that she made a bad choice, he regretted it, and regardless of how poorly he communicated that regret, she needs to just own it and move past it. On the up side, she’s basically locked in a top 3 spot provided she doesn’t absolutely lose it. He can’t boot her without looking like a complete chach. Whoever said that poontanging around never pays off never got felt up in a warm ocean on national television during hour one of a top rated prime time show.
“You are smiling and that’s what matters,” he tells her after she’s been placated. What he meant was “I’m thrilled you’re not holding a butcher knife sneaking up behind me.” They make out. Making out with her is equivalent to jumping on a grenade.
More guy secrets: A woman like Claire in a group of hot women would be referred to as “The Grenade.” That’s the man hater, crazy woman, unattractive girl, too protective girlfriend, or any woman in the group who stands to ruin a potential hook up between a guy’s friend and another attractive woman in the group. The proper male etiquette is to pull a buddy aside and calmly ask him to “jump on the grenade” for the team. Ergo, The Grenade. Claire is a grenade. Trust me.
Juan Pablo puts on his skinny suit and poorly fitting pants and heads to the impromptu Lair of Seclusion for a chat with Harrison in the presence of the head shots. Harrison earns his paycheck but we don’t learn anything we don’t know.
Super awkward cocktail party.
Nikki pours it on a bit thick to get the rose. Nice work. She knows when (and how) to push his buttons and it clearly worked. Renee sweats it now that Cassandra—the only other mom--got shoved onto a the first cargo plane off the island. The Science Educator does some investigation, forms a hypothesis, and gathers data before forming the theory that her ass is on the chopping block.
Kat pulls Juan Pablo aside and lets him know that she was journaling (or is it "yernalling"?) last night. Oh Lord. “DO NOT DO THAT,” I screamed at the television. After hitting pause and being forced to explain the “why not” question from the Mrs. We watched as Kat proceeds to bring up her Daddy Issues. The “I told you so” that came out of my mouth tasted sweeter than the Lone Star I’d been pouring down it all night.
Harrison justifies his paycheck again with some “pivotal, turning point, blah, blah, blah, it’s getting serious, blah blah blah.”
The following wee-men assept these roses:
1. Claire (tick, tick, tick)
Home: Kat, Cassandra.
Kat hides the tears. Frankly, I felt sorry for her. I’m certain that scenario has played out many times in her life. She needs to get a hold of her daddy issues and realize how attractive and smart she is without having to constantly prove it. She’s hot, fun, and cool. She just had a shitty dad. The sooner she faces that, the better off she’ll be.
Nietzche wrote, “the worst enemy you can meet will always be you yourself; you lie in wait for yourself in caverns and forests.”
Kat met herself this week.
Sharleen pledges (hilariously, I might add) to “give it another week.” Classic. Well, thanks to Camilla, we’re headed back to Miami next week. I can’t wait. Thanks for dealing with my trial schedule (I’m in trial next week too) and thanks for continuing to click the refresh button, even if you’re cursing me while you do it. I’ll be back next week. In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be washing the sand off my Ogo Balls. DP