Amazing Count 104
Journey Count 21
Ooof. This is what happens when Some Guy waits until late on Tuesday to write about the freaking 2 hours of content squeezed into 5 hours of programming we witnessed over the past couple of days. Props to Lincee www.ihategreenbeans.com Ray for taking advantage of her time. Let’s get to it, shall we? Some Guy has a lot to say.
In the interest of brevity (and my sanity) I’m going to break this down in the most concise format I can. I'll cover Sunday night's show, Episode 7, today and Monday night's show, Episode 8, tomorrow.
On a side (but very relevant) note, Mrs. Some Guy has discovered some new essential oil device on what I affectionately refer to as "the topless bar for women," Pinterest, that makes the entire house smell like a massage parlor. I’m secluded in an unfamiliar part of the Abbey this evening because I don’t want to wake up smelling like a French prostitute. If I’m off my game, it’s her fault. If we get any more lavender in the air in here I'm going to have to fog the place for bees.
Here goes nothing.
Chris Tells All
This segment qualified as a big fat waste of time. Aside from the extra footage of the certifiably insane Ashley S., Chris failed to entertain or enlighten us. On the up side, I didn’t have to watch the guy shower outside and we did get to watch him squirm a bit. I found myself longing for the candlelit armoire bedecked with the pensive headshots of the remaining women.
Kelsey Sits Down.
Not exactly the best character rehab session we’ve ever seen on the show. Hell, Roz did a better job when she accused Harrison of hitting on the wife of the guy who she cheated on Jake with. It’s abundantly clear she still thinks she’s smarter than the rest of us. Too bad it’s also abundantly clear that she’s a word that rhymes with “punt.” She would have been so much better if they would have put her on Juan Pablo’s season. Unfortunately, she hadn’t (allegedly) killed her husband yet.
Andi Sits Down
My take on that whole soggy-faced attempt to remain relevant? Josh clearly dumped her because of her ball busting personality and her control issues and she knows it.
Slamming face first into your own faults-- especially when those same faults are your strengths in every other area of your life—is not an easy place to be. Indeed, it’s one of life’s many humbling lessons. Being forced to learn that lesson on the front cover of US Magazine can’t exactly make that pill easier to swallow. She clearly wanted it all to “Stahhhhhp.” Let’s hope they don’t give her another chance to make a mistake by picking the same beefy, jockstrap of a guy she’s always picked again. I wish her well. I just don’t want to see her doughy face on TV anymore.
Best moment? When Harrison, after the most pregnant pause in Bachelor history, gave Andi a moment to sniffle up the mucus approaching the ends of her nostrils and dry the flood pouring from her eyes before he calmly dropped, "so, do you . . . uh . . . still talk to each other?" Ouch, OHCH. Ouch, indeed.
Seven Prospects Remaining.
Still elated by Kelsey’s departure, the women actually break ranks and band together to congratulate Chris on a good job leaving her in the Badlands with Ashley and her eyelashes. It was like a Joan Baez sing along in there for a few moments.
Like the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz, Megan realizes she’s always had a brain and decides to sit down with Chris. How telling is it that even Megan was bright enough to recognize the fact that our Bachelor is a first class Midwestern bore? Granted, he’s a decent, considerate bore, but a bore nonetheless.
She gives him an out and lets him think sending her home was his idea. Megan left with class and with her dignity still in tact. “I’m proud of myself,” she declares through tears of relief. Nice work, Megan. Who knew she’d be the one to win the Personal Growth ribbon this season? I’m proud of you too, Megan. It’s rare in life to be at complete peace after a life-altering decision. Just ask Andi.
Realizing he doesn’t have the balls to send another girl packing, Chris talks to Harrison. “I talked to Chris Harrison and I told him…,” he confidently tells the remaining girls. Translation: “I begged Chris Harrison and after careful consideration he granted me dispensation to buy an extra plane ticket to Iowa.”
Off to Iowa. Renaissance, Des Moines.
Date Card. “Jade, Join me in my hometown, Chris.” Jade, endures the 3 hour hayride to Chris’ hometown in her Midwestern flannel.
“Where the prairie and the hills meet,” the sign reads. In light of our tour of Arlington and what we’d later come to learn about Jade, I’m certain that sign was more applicable to Jade’s photo shoot than to Chris’ hometown. The hills certainly met the prairie.
Arlington is literally in the middle of nowhere. Jade meets the parents at the HS football game before they wander aimlessly through his high school halls. She reacquaints herself with Wilson Phillips and simultaneously wins the Skinniest Woman in Arlington Contest at the football game. Of course, now that the nude photos are out the farm animal that took runner up will have to assume her duties. That’s not important right now.
Jade wants to tell him about the nudie pictures, but can’t bring herself to do it. They fake a fever, get the laminated restroom pass, and ditch class for a quick make out on the lockers. Bali it was not.
I’ll talk more about Jade in a bit but let me just point out the following comment she made in passing as Chris was squirming like a lovesick teenager in her seat at a Jonas Brothers concert gripping with insecurity about whether his nothing town was enough to impress the woman he loves.
“Don’t feel bad about where you love to be. It IS enough.”
Amen. Succinct, sincere, and not self-serving. What do you think Britt would have said? That, my friends, is why he likes Jade.
Jade has been searching her entire life for what she saw in Chris’ eyes the entire day: a sense of self and a place to belong. She wasn’t being nice or flippant at that moment. She saw what Arlington, Iowa meant to him.
Sort of explains the erratic behavior and the nude pictures, doesn’t it? Wild Mustangs cannot be tamed because they are part of the pastures they roam. Jade just hasn’t found her pasture yet. She knew Chris had. His sisters chose correctly.
Britt, on the other hand, begins to crack like a Grecian Urn. Like Keats’ ode, she knows she lacks the wherewithal to withstand the permanence of life on a corn farm and she begins to put in to action the exit plan she’s undoubtedly been pondering in lieu of a shower for weeks now.
Date Card. “Whitney, let’s look for love in Des Moines.” They’d be better off looking for corn, I thought.
Britt drops, “I’m usually not jealous.” Of course she’s not. That’s because she’s always in control. Take that away and boom, the green-headed hoodie monster doth appear.
The problem with keeping up appearances is that appearances cannot be kept up forever. Britt expected Ibiza. She got Iowa. Incidentally, there would have been no shame in her sitting him down and giving him the "I simply can't do Iowa" speech. Frankly, that would have been preferable to her own version of the fake panic attack.
Not to be outdone by Jade, Whitney sports her flannel as well. Frankly all of the girls had a little lesbian lumberjack fashion vibe this week. Whitney splits to meet Chris and Jade tells the rest of the girls about her date in a respectful way. Britt cries but doesn’t quite call the paramedics. After all, that was so last week and if she ended up on the floor outside the sh*tter, she’d certainly have to shower. The girls “spontaneously” decide to drive to Arlington in ABC’s rented suburban.
Whitney gets the picture date after the art gallery. I’ve said before that Whitney is unattractive to me. She needs change her voice and she has a bitchy resting face. And if Ashley I. can find time to slap on 15 pounds worth of eyelashes Whitney sure as hell can find the time to dye her roots. Nonetheless, she’s the long shot horse who tears around turn number 4 and ends up leading into the stretch. I won’t call her the winner, but man, she certainly closed the deal like a champ this episode.
Whitney meets the friends and answers all of the questions correctly in her leather pants. She drops the “mom is dead and Daddy never loved me” story late in the game but doesn’t cry about it. Somewhere in a New Jersey night club Ashley I.’s hymen twitched as she knew yet another girl had trumped her I’m a virgin story.
Whitney scores date points when she fake cries at the mural “Chris” painted for her on the side of the only restaurant in Des Moines. I’m certain some teenaged boys were lying in wait in the nearby bushes to make that painting anatomically correct with a can of spray paint. Whitney realized that she’s got to run the 2 minute offense in order to make it to the Fantasy Suite. Frankly, her execution was flawless.
Date Card. “Britt, Carly, Kaitlyn, Icy our future together.” This one might as well have been titled the “what's left to do in Des Moines” date.
Carly does the Britt hand puppet thing. That was funny but Carly didn’t do herself any favors when she vented her frustration with the process by substituting her venom for Kelsey with her venom for Britt. She came across as bitter and, frankly, it was obvious she was deflecting the fact that she knew she was on the chopping block.
They play ice hockey—which Chris clearly never played--as they begin to realize that the stakes are as high as they’ve ever been. Carly rats out Britt, Britt fakes her way through it but realizes the damage is done, and Kaitlyn disappears to phone the local Phoenix recording studio to book some time to record her latest rap song.
Time for a cocktail party.
Producer: Did you scout a location for our cocktail party?
Producer: Great. Is it a dimly lit rooftop bar with a hot tub near by?
Intern: Not exactly.
Producer: How about a local botanical garden with a gazebo and some interestingly back-lighted plants where we can have a campfire?
Intern: Not really.
Producer: Oh great, then we’re having it in a swanky hotel lobby adjacent to the Lair of Seclusion and our Rose Ceremony location.
Intern: Look, I know I’m fired but the best I could do is a salvage store with a bunch of giant metal letters and some old lamps.
Producer: You're right. You're fired.
Crop tops and leather bottoms galore. The girls mingle amongst the fake letters as Britt and Carly stress about Kaitlyn’s Date Rose.
Britt loses it with some nonsense about her husband always putting her first. Hey Britt, if that were true, I wouldn’t have worked until 6:30 before heading to a local Breastaurant for beers with a friend served by some barely-twenty-year old dunce in a crop top and skin tight shorts after work only to return home and head straight upstairs to write this.
I’ve got news for you. Marriage is a giant Group Date. The only difference is that instead of 3 more women competing for time with your mate, you have to compete with life.
In life, knowing smiles, short skirts, and prompt Diet Coke refills don’t always translate to a 17% tip and a business card with a cell phone number scrawled across the back of it tucked into your check holder thingy. Grow up, Peter Pan.
She fumbled on the 5 yard line and she’d pay for it next show.
“What switch went off,” one of the girls asks. “Rejection,” replies Kaitlyn.
. . . remained as we headed into Episode 8. I’ll recap the hometowns tomorrow. Congrats, you get twice the material this week. Oh, and in case you’re wondering. The post will be up tomorrow night. I head out of town on Thursday. So much pressure. Sigh, life’s not fair. More tomorrow. Until then, if you need me, I’ll be trying to pick the right moment to show you all my nude video. DP