Bachelorette Desiree Episode 2: Des Puts the "C" Back in Front of "Rap"

Good Lord.  Do I even have to open with my usual “Hello, Readers?”  For those of you who humored me on my live Twitter feed last night you’re aware that (like the rest of you) I was . . . well, Amazed at the meteoric and unprecedented escalation of the Amazing Count.  We went from an already annoying 17 in Episode 1 to a heretofore unimaginable FIFTY TWO in just one show.   Hell, the Journey Count is already at 18 and we haven’t even left the MAN-sion yet.  Is it possible that this could actually be the Most (Insert Provocative Adjective Here) Season yet? 

Incidentally, when proofreading the above paragraph I noticed that I inadvertently omitted the “O” from the word “count.”   That makes it a totally different show, does it not?  Annyyyyyyhhoo . . . . 

 

Before we start I'd like to send a shout out to my friend and local Austinite, Sherry.  I've run into her at a few local music venues and a honky tonk or two over the past couple of weeks.  That's like meeting a hen in a hen house, I know, but Sherry is always pleasant.  She also introduced me to her friends as "Some Guy in Austin" last week and even asked Mrs. Some Guy if she could call her by that name.  Solid work, Sherry.  Now, let's get to it, shall we? 

 

We open as we have the past few seasons.  Desiree’s voice over mulls over the remaining bold colored v-neck-wearing pack of frenzied suitors vying for a potential shot at possibly having the right to butter up Neil Lane in order to procure a conditionally free diamond engagement ring and drop to one knee in a rented suit in the middle of a debilitatingly humid subtropical “paradise” and ask Desiree if she could maybe be his temporary fiancé for an indefinite period of time and possibly move toward a marriage provided a host of conditions precedent occur and ABC’s myriad of contractual obligations are met.

 

Des tickles our fancy by wondering aloud if she’ll avoid the “potential for disaster.”  Notwithstanding the fact that I love to have my fancy tickled, I sort of hoped that the potential for disaster would realize itself sooner rather than later.    

 

Back at the MAN-sion Harrison blows the metaphorical conch shell and summons the men for a morning sit around.  He lays out the rules we already know and drops the date card before heading out to the quiet solace of a nudie bar VIP room in his Hefner-esque blue pajama shirt.    

 

Brooks in his giant red plastic watch hopes for a sign but has to settle for a note handwritten by an intern.  Yup, the first date is his and we all know that in Bachelorette Code that means he’s the front runner.  Contrary to a well-meaning reader’s comment last week, I don’t read Reality Stan or any other Bach blog aside from Lincee Ray’s www.ihategreenbeans.com.  I pick Brooks as the winner because he simply has no competition at this point in the game.  However, we’d all do well to remember that (ironically, no less) it was Des who was awarded the first date with Sean.  She killed it before fizzling out over the rest of the season.  My guess is that one of the mutes will soon speak and will actually make a race of this thing.  Back to Des.

 

Des sits in her secret sketching area doing Kegels while contemplating what color lip gloss to wear before putting on her Emily-esque seasonal boots, tight jeans, and tank top.  Drew Pavelka and his lavender hoodie are jealous of Brooks.  Zak tones it down from last last week and on a scale from tolerable to jackass crosses the midpoint toward the former. F*ckin’ Mikey T. and his Marianas Trench DEEP V-neck do their best to set the destruction of Italian-American stereotypes back to the 1800’s.  I didn’t know if he’d purposely stretched that V-neck beyond repair or if it was simply cowering away from his ten o’clock shadow.    

 

Ben gets jealous.  Des and Brooks split for a PCH drive in “her” Bentley. 

 

Brooks Date

 

The conversation was easy and  it was clear that they had good chemistry.  In an attempt to destroy that, Des brings Brooks straight to a bridal shop.  Good Lord.  She could have at least had the common courtesy to swing by a bar on the way there.  Regardless, Brooks handles it masterfully.   He’s confident and unafraid.  Clearly, he gets it. 

They shoplift a couple outfits and Des makes a “spontaneous”  decision to walk around LA and take pictures.  They visit a cupcake truck and take pictures with  paid extras before heading to the  Hollywood sign like Frank and Ali before them.  We all know how well that worked out.  After the lowest ranking Bachelorette intern removes the used condoms and empty Mad Dog 20/20 bottles from the immediate area Brooks seals the deal AFTER we have to listen to more annoying fairytale and princess references. 

 

Any dudes reading this need to pay attention.  Brooks puts on a textbook clinic of first date finesse.  He showers Des with small compliments rather than blathering and overdoing it.  He makes eye contact, nods his head in agreement, listens to her talk, shares some emotions but not too much, maximizes non-sexual physical touch (statistically the most common of the Five Love Languages), and cherrys up the sundae by confirming that he’s “in.”  That, in a word, was Money.  Sure, he has a bit of a feminine speech thing going on and his hair oil makes Ric James look like he has split ends, but none of that matters to Des.  She bought what he sold and she paid full price.   

 

He did all that without showing up shirtless, borrowing a suit of armor, or acting like an asshole.   He earned the first kiss.    It’s a good first act, Brooks, but it ain’t over until the fat lady sings.  

Nighttime.  Des gets another “spontaneous” idea to move the road block signs and head into a “shady area.”  I opined that the “shady area” was named Los Angeles, but that’s neither here nor there.  They arrive at an allegorical bridge over the road and Brooks continues to pile on. 

 

“Tell me about your family,” “That’s a great question,”  “It takes time for me to share deep emotions,” coupled with timely pauses, and the begrudgingly surrendered lost dad story, capped off with tearing up and giving the ‘give me a moment’ sign.  Brilliant.  He might as well have picked up her entree off her plate and put it in his hand.  He had her eating out of it.  He got a rose and I was surprised she didn’t include her bra and panties too.  Hell, I would have kissed the guy at that point.  Nice work, Brooks. 

They eventually “enjoy” music from someone named Andy Grammar.  He looked like one of the other dudes and sounded like a John Mayer, but worse, if that’s possible.  I have no idea who he is and have no immediate plans to find out.  Like hundreds of double-left footed tools before him, Brooks can’t dance either but at least he tried.  He also mixed in the phrases “expose myself” and “strap on.”  My guess is that he’s hoping those subconscious seeds will blossom in time for the Fantasy Suite.  By the way, my money says that Des spends the night with all three dudes.  We’ll get there eventually.   

 

Group Date. 

 

Dan, Juan Pablo, Zack, Will, Brian, Drew Pavelka, James, F*ckin’ Mikey T., Zak W., Nick, Michael, Brandon, and the guy who read the card.  “Men, are you here for the right reasons?”

 

We head to the Malibu Rocky Oaks Winery.  Des awaits the idiot Exodus from the MAN-sion in her purple shorty dress with weird shoulder straps on it.  The men are forced to perform an uphill walk toward Des.  I assumed that was a metaphor—a poor one. 

 

F*ckin’ Mikey thinks real hard and tries to figure out the date in pink shorts.  Des ends the suspense by announcing that they are there to film a rap video.  I would have quit right there.  Being “fun” and “spontaneous” is one thing.  Subjecting oneself to intentional humiliation is another.  Some guy called Soulja Boy—another “artist” I don’t know—shows up to perform a miracle.  According to Mr. Boy,  Love is like Hip Hop.  “Filthy, misogynistic, and over-produced?” I wondered.  Regardless, the men perform awkward attempted rhymes.  I’m not certain, but I don’t think Mr. Boy was impressed.  James even forgot how to rhyme. 

 

And how in the world is it that Will can’t dance?  I hate to stereotype, but come on.  Brandon emerges from “wardrobe” in an Ed Hardy shirt and no pants—He looked like a Douchey Winnie the Pooh.   Des shows off her stomach.  Dallas Ben looked way too stupid in his ‘cowboy’ outfit while Michael and F*ckin’ Mikey go for broke.  I suppose that’s the best you can hope for under the circumstances.  Brandon’s shaved legs didn’t do much to offset the jockstrap either. 

 

 

This was as painful a segment that I can recall.  On another note, could that video have been more degrading to everyone involved?  After having Brandon’s junk shaken around her face like a maraca in a salsa band, she dons a bikini and a wrap and jiggles through a tunnel of thrusting tube steaks.  So much for being respected, Des.    I hope Soulja Boy got a fatter check than Harrison.  Lord knows the only reason he was there is because Harrison wanted a quarter bag full of the Sticky Icky for the after party.

 

Dinnertime.   Zak W. apparently got most of the jackass out of him last week.  He (astutely) admits to being a “buffoon” and presents her with a gift. 

No wrapping paper:  Points Off.

Antique journal with an inscription from Dad to daughter:  Points On. 

Why didn’t he open up with that on night one?  Simple and sincere beats soaked in vanity and beer any day of the week.  Nice recovery, Zak W.  Keep that up and your shirt on and you’ve got  decent chance at the Fantasy Suite. 

 

Brandon, this season’s insecure freaking weirdo, tells us that love is like a butterfly.  If we hold it too loosely it will fly away.  If we hold it too tightly we will destroy it.  Nice try, Brandon.  Steinbeck tackled that metaphor in the late ‘30’s in Of Mice and Men.  He’ll melt down in a show or two.  Adrenaline Junkie, my ass.    

 

Ben c*ck blocks F*ckin’ Mikey and his pink plaid shirt right in the middle of his “My Italian Family” talk.  Very poor timing, Ben.  Like Luca Brasi, he’ll sleep with the fishes for that one day. 

 

Did anyone else perceive the preponderance of purple provided to these putzes?  Alliteration aside, purple is the color of royalty, which is good because most of these guys are royal a-holes. 

Michael G. gives his “women I respect” speech to Des.  Perhaps he felt guilty for throwing his genitals in her direction at the rap video shoot.  That’s a canned staple of the Bachelorette franchise but it’s proven to work in the past.  Juan Pablo plays it cool in his leather Hasselhoff jacket and frohawk.  F*ckin’ Mikey gets more Italian the more he drinks.  For some reason, he feels compelled to talk to Ben about “swooping in on Des.”  Has he ever seen the show?  This whole schtick has been tiring for several seasons now and it’s still tiring.  It’s the same argument every cocktail party.  That fact eludes F*ckin’ Mikey.  Unfortunately for him,  Ben is much smarter than F*ckin’ Mikey and wins him over by simply complimenting his shoes.  Luca Brasi might be smarter than F*ckin’ Mikey.    

 

Date Card.  “Bryden, Road Trip! Desiree”.  Bryden admires Des’s gift for brevity with his Dumb and Dumber haircut.

 

Brandon looks like he’s going to be the first to melt down.  He nervously interrupts Drew Pavelka who looks like Max Headroom and the guy from the Nazi propaganda posters had a kid. 

 

Brandon goes with another Bach’ette standby and gives her the “what I’m not” speech. He predictably exposes his abandonment issues stemming from his dad’s departure. That explained a lot. Top that off with the fact that his mom was a drug addict and the control, abandonment, and fear of inadequacy issues stand out like a five o’clock shadow on an amped up Italian Suitor. 

 

I’ll give Brandon a pass but he’d better sort that out soon.  Des is not likely to be so forgiving.  She’s got her nutjob brother to deal with.  The last thing she needs is those two downing a few too many cocktails on Thanksgiving Day at the in-laws pad.  He swung for the fence when he needed a base hit.  Between that and the Winnie the Pooh outfit he deserved the rose.  However, Ben got it because the Producers told her to give it to him to piss off F*ckin’ Mikey T. 

Mission F*ckin’ Accomplished. 

I’d also like to make a point.  What’s said is often just as important as what’s not said.  Did anyone notice Juan Pablo interjecting his accent into that fray of testosterone-filled nonsense?  Exactly.  When there’s a big fire down the street there’s no good reason to leave the safety of your house and run toward it.  Props to Juan Pablo for saving his energy.

 

Bryden Date. 

She honks in “Her” Bentley.  Can you imagine if the tables were reversed?  I love double standards.    They hit the PCH for  less than exciting freeway banter about driving.  They stop at the local Quickie Mart for popcorn, tampons, and a 12 pack of Malt Liquor before heading on an all day drive.  Apparently, Spago was booked for lunch. 

 

Des tells us that “California embodies everything that I am?”  Give me a break.   They arrive at El Matador Beach.  I could have used a Matador because there was a lot of bulls*it to deal with.  Kite flying.  Taco eating.  Yellow t-shirting. 

They head north to Orange Grove.  Picnic in the Orange Orchard.  Picnic’s suck 

Head to Ojai. If I had a Bentley on loan I’d drive the hell out of it too.  Overall, it was a decent date without much obvious romantic chemistry.  Compared to Brooks this guy might as well have been a cardboard stand-in.     

 

He drops the car accident story.  Incredibly, he brings the car accident pictures on the date.  Hospital and road rash pictures abound as Bryden recounts his harrowing brush with mortality.  I’m glad they didn’t have pizza.  She acted sympathetic but didn’t seem smitten. 

Look, Bryden is a veteran and a guy who has been through a lot for someone his age.  He clearly has something to offer.  However, he’s no oily headed charmer with dimples.    He gets the rose anyway and does get some pool and hot tub time.   Des eventually ordered him to move in for the kiss.  That was a hair bit less awkward than the rap video.  Let’s be fair.  He never had to move in for a kiss in Iraq and he’s entitled to be a bit guarded.  Des is likely to understand that but will ultimately choose an easier (and oilier) path.  Still, he’ll stick around for a while and be one of those “good guys” who just couldn’t make it.  His home town will treat him kindly

 

Cocktail Party.

 

Ominous music fills the air as Des’ limo pulls up and the sword fight in the MAN-sion begins in earnest.  Drew Pavelka was nice enough to skip out on his Hitler Youth meeting to attend.  Des clichés her way to the ballroom.  She’s “blown away” and “the luckiest girl in the world.”   Mike G. drops the diabetic talk.  What. A. Freaking. Beating.  Doesn’t anyone have a positive story to share?  He had the balls to share his blood sugar number and Des pretends to care, eventually admitting that she has no idea what that number means. 

Just as Michael is wowing Des by covering the finer points of the body’s homeostatic mechanisms involving mutually antagonistic catabolic and anabolic hormones Ben shows up to shut it down.  Frankly, Ben did the guy a favor.  If he’d have kept speaking Des was likely to fall into a coma of her own.  We all know that Ben’s move-in was Producer instigated.  Well, all of us but F*ckin’ Mikey T.

Honestly, I became bored with the macho fest.  Even when I was much younger and filled with hormones I always found this type of chest beating ridiculous.   They looked and acted like fools.  If Michael, Brandon, and F*ckin’ Mikey T. truly think that Ben’s behavior “it is what it is” then they should have just let it be what it is.  They looked like a bunch of school aged kids arguing on the playground.  Well, school aged kids with oiled hair and five o’clock shadows. 

 

Brian (whoever he is) pulls a pick up and walk move.  The guy had twice as much grease in his hair as Brooks.  Unfortunately, he’s only a third as charming.  What’s up with the oily hair this season, by the way?  Alfalfa had less product in his hair that most of these guys.  Frankly, Brooks is the only one of these oil barons who doesn’t look like an extra in a 30’s mobster movie. 

 

 

Harrison FINALLY shows up in grey with the ubiquitous champagne glass and butter knife and puts an abrupt end to the tomfoolery. 

 

Roses

 

1.      Ben

2.      Brooks (aka First Place)

3.      Bryden

4.      James

5.      Kasey

6.      Dan

7.      Juan Pablo  (Juan Pablo no Hablo this week)

8.      Brad

9.      Chris (who’s the hell is he?)

10.  Nick

11.  Zak W. (Nice come back)

12.  Drew

13.  F*ckin’ Mikey T.

14.  Zack

15.  Michael

16.  Brandon

 

Gone

 

Will,

Robert (Liam Hemsworth)

Nick M.

 

Well, there it is.  No real surprises this week, folks.  We’ll see how it all pans out next week when Harrison throws an angry badger of an ex-girlfriend into the cage.  Follow me on Twitter or Facebook.  I’ll live Tweet during next week’s show.  Have a great week.  In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be at the local auto parts store buying oil by the case.  DP

Bachelorette Des Episode 1: Idiot Contest

Well hello, Readers.  This is usually the place where I welcome all of you back after a long off-season but I suppose that ‘s a bit inappropriate since I’ve been horribly absent this off-season.  Regardless, it’s good to be back for yet another season of the show we all love to hate.  I trust that all of you had a wonderful Memorial Day weekend.   Let’s get to it.     

It was clear from the get-go that Desiree wasn’t wasting any time this season.  Refusing to idly wait for her limo and refusing to demand that “her” shiny new powder blue Bentley is delivered to her home in wherever she lives Des takes it upon herself to throw on her favorite red driving dress and some cork wedges and find her Malibu hideaway in her modest, yet ever so reliable silver Honda.  Harrison, of course, awaits.

As Harrison sets up the season we're reminded that his wedding ring lies in a Topanga Canyon pawn shop innocuously waiting for some love struck yet not so affluent soul to trade in his chain saw and arc welding kit in order to purchase it for his upcoming nuptials.  Little does that guy know that it possesses power beyond his comprehension.  Donning that ring is like putting that Green Lantern ring on for a bit.  I’m sure we’ll read about it in the news or something.  Back to Des. 

Was it me or was the set up this season unbearably long?  She broods to fairy tale music, talks about wild dreams, contemplates lost love, broods some more, cries a bit, walks on the beach in search of true love, and then overstates the entire thing by alluding to taking the “Ultimate Risk” in order to find her Romeo.  Ultimate Risk?  That's a pretty ballsy metaphor on Memorial Day.  I’ll bet she and the army vet will compare notes about that down the road.   The last time I checked the beaches of Malibu weren’t laden with IED’s or Al Queda operatives looking to take out a brooding Bachelorette.   

I found the entire lead in scripted, predictable, and cliché; which is exactly what every other person who tuned in expected as well.  Those three adjectives apparently work in any Vin Diesel movie.  Can you believe that Fast and Furious 6 (yes, 6.  that's not a typo) made 120 million dollars this weekend?  I'm fairly certain there's something in the Bible about that but I'll get back to you before the Rapture hits. 

Des tours her humble abode in awe.  Like Allie in The Notebook, she’s given a beautiful house complete with her own topless sketching area and charcoal pencils.   Yaaaaawwwn.  I have to admit that I grinned when I pictured Harrison on all fours sanding the wood floors like Noah Calhoun prior to Des' arrival.  Annnyyhooo. . .   

In a statement I found extremely telling she informs us that she grew up without money.  In fact, she was so poor that she was forced to live in **GASP** an apartment.  Oh, the humanity.  She adds that her brother was subjected to sleeping on the couch in lieu of having his own room.  If that doesn’t explain a lot about that guy and his issues, you’re simply not paying attention.  Sean should have just offered the guy his own room at Kensington and Smith’s giant playhouse and we could have avoided this entire season.  If the house is full, I'm certain those kids have a comfortable guest house in the backyard he can use. (You didn’t think I could resist one more shot at the playhouse, did you?)

Cut back to Harrison and Des kicking it around the Malibu Lair.  They launch this season’s theme:  Cinderella story. I was bored already.  The montage of the guys trying to out macho one another didn’t do a lot for me either.   Top that off with the fact that Des cried every time they stuck the camera in her face and my eyes began to roll.  It was like there was pepper spray residue floating around in the air.  She cried so much I wondered if she was in need of hormone replacement therapy—or in the middle of it.  It’s going to be a long season, Folks.  Let us break down the men, shall we?  .

Harrison Moneys up in his black suit and gives us his canned opening speech on the wet driveway.   Sure, it was redundant but would it really be a Bachelorette season without that speech?  You're damn right it wouldn't.  My favorite part is when he leads off with “Hi, I’m Chris Harrison.”  That’s like taking a five year old to the mall in December and having the grey-bearded fat guy in the red suit look him in the eye and say, “Hi, I’m Santa Claus.”  No shit, fat man.  

Regardless, it worked and the limos begin to arrive as Des and her silver dress took her place on the aforementioned wet driveway.   That dress looked more like one of those protective chain shark suits divers wear when then hope in the water off the Great Barrier Reef.   Come to think of it, perhaps it was appropriate for the occasion. 

Disclaimer:  I’ve broken the guys down in order of appearance on the show.  That means the details of their success or demise are out of chronological order.  Inevitably, I’ll mix up my douchebags and attribute a stupid line uttered by one of them to the mouth of another one of them.  Forgive me, would you?  I did my best. 

1.         Bryden, 26—Iraq War Vet from Missoula, Mn. 26.  He apparently patrols the mountains of Montana in full camo with his weapon in hand.  His introduction was a bit awkward but he didn’t make a total fool out of himself which (if we’re honest) is probably the best anyone can hope for under these circumstances.  He plays the modesty card and reintroduces himself during his one on one before dropping the Veteran story on Des.  That alone should have been worth a rose but he adds icing with a 10 year old Iraqi kid story.  Despite his lack of pep and his Dumb and Dumber haircut, he’ll stick around for a while.  My guess is that getting shot at in the desert for two years will likely make him a bit more mature than the rest of the pack.  Dodging bullets is a hell of a lot different than dodging your own stupidity.  He got a rose. 

2.         Will, 28--Banker, Chicago.  He can also be effectively identified as “The Black Guy.”  He tells us that black guys don’t do yoga (except him) and apparently has a penchant for high-fiving guys on the street.  He high fives Des but eventually proved himself to be one of the more normal guys at the cocktail party.  He got a rose. 

3.         Drew, 27, Scottsdale.  I didn’t pick up this guy’s occupation because I was too distracted by the fact that he looks way too much like Jake Pavelka.   He seemed relatively normal, albeit painfully boring, until he dropped the harsh childhood story on us.  He leads with divorce, alcoholism, and the mentally handicapped sibling  I’m sure Des can relate to the last item on the list, but he’d better think happy thoughts if he’s going to stick around.  He’s too effeminate to compete with the alpha males.  He got a sympathy rose.

4.         Nick R., 26—Magician/Tailor, Chicago.  I addressed most of this in my last post.  The guy was actually worse than I imagined.  Not only did he do a trick out of the limo, he continued to do them inside the mansion.  We find out that he’s only a weekend magician who apparently doesn’t even have a name like “The Magnificent Whatever” and he performs in what looked like a friend’s basement.  The truth is—and this guy would do well to face it—that he works at Men’s Warehouse measuring inseams and having Walter Mitty-esque fantasies of being a great illusionist.  He actually said that his magic “gives me the upper hand” when it comes to Des.  Denial has seemingly magical powers doesn’t it, Nick?  His reaction to being booted was, “She didn’t get to see who I was.”  The problem is that she did.  To hell with pulling a rabbit out of a hat.  This guy would do better to simply pull his head out of his ass.   No Rose.

5.         Zak W., 31--Drilling fluid engineer.  First off, I won't debase myself by going for the obvious phallic job title joke.  This guy is WAY too big an idiot for a 31 year old.  His hair is as high as his IQ.  He hangs out nude on his deck and arrives shirtless at the meet and greet.  Des looked horrified.  Is he in shape?  Yes, he’s in shape.  However, no amount of ripples can conceal stupidity and narcissism.    Guys like him are good for a one night stand but the ego will quickly overpower anything he has on the surface.  It's like driving a Corvette with no engine.  He brings overdoing it to an entirely different level.  His jumping in the pool stunt earned him a “why not” rose but that’s about as far as it will get him unless he tones it down next week.  The up side is that once he’s kicked off the show he’ll have plenty of time to sit around his ranch naked and admire himself while drinking his own drilling fluid.  

6.         Robert, 30, Spinning Sign Inventor, LA.  He looks like Liam what’s his name.  You know, Thor’s brother.  Actually, he looks like a watered down version of Liam Hemsworth and he acts like it too.  He’s good looking and sufficiently shy so as to be confused with mysterious, but he won’t make the run all the way to the end.  He got a rose.  The DP jury is still out on this guy, however. 

7.         Mike, 27--Dallas, Dental Student.  Born in England.   White coat, lime shirt.  He’s a dentist like Ashley is a dentist.   Like a rotting tooth, he got pulled.  No Rose.    

8.         Brandon, 26, painting contractor, MN.  Self-proclaimed “Adrenaline Junkie”.   Know that that means?  Macho idiot.  I didn’t buy his motorcycle arrival, sob story about his childhood, or his very pinstriped suit but have to admit that once he toned it down a bit he seemed semi-normal.  I’ll give him a (narrow) pass in the name of being told to “have a schtick” for TV.  We’ll see how he does.  I’m sure his alcoholic mother was prying at the locked liquor cabinet with a butter knife upon seeing him give away her sobriety coin to a woman “dating” 24 other men.  He got a Rose. 

9.         Brooks, 28, marketing, Salt Lake City, UT.  He looks like a skinny version of Blake Shelton.  He has lots of thick, product soaked hair.  He wears a vest.  The bottom line is that he’s too good looking to send home.  Rose.  He'll be around for awhile if not the last guy standing. 

10.       Brad, 27, Accountant, Denver.  I’ll give him points for at least linking his gimmick to Des’s former penny in the fountain gimmick.  He showed up with a wishbone.  He didn’t score a touchdown but he didn’t fumble either.  He apparently did enough in the cocktail party to stick around.  Nice work.  At least he didn’t peak early.  He got a Rose.  

11.       Michael G., 33--Federal Prosecutor.  Frankly, this guy was identical to Brad but overdid it in the fountain and wasn’t bright enough to bring a back up penny in the event that the fountain had been previously purged of pennies. Keep your opening simple, counselor, and always leave yourself an out.   I liked what I saw of the guy.  I will admit that I’m biased because he made fun of the magician, but we’ll see how he does.  He got a rose. 

12.       Kasey, 29--Marketing.  The “Hashtag” bit was too much.  I won’t even dignify it by making my own hashtag response.  The guy can’t be that big of a tool.  Surely, Twitter is paying him for every “hashtag” he can get aired—at least that’s what I’m telling myself.  I can only assume that he didn’t lay any of that nonsense on Des.  He got a Rose.   “Hashtag” rhymes with “Douchebag”---sort of. 

13.       Mikey T. 30, plumbing contractor, Chicago. Five o’clock shadow.  Italian.  Lives at home with his family. Fake tan.  Tons of “F” words.  Must he perpetuate the stereotype?   I wonder if he waited for the decline letter from the Jersey Shore casting department before logging on the ABC and filling out the application in Crayon?  His watch weighed more than Robert, for crying out loud.  Despite his Vienna of the Eyes Syndrome he got the You’re Not as Bad as the Idiots I Just Sent Home Last Rose. 

14.       Jonathan, 26, lawyer, NC.  First the Shirtless Texas guy and now the creepy lawyer?  This show does not exactly bode well for my home state or my profession, does it?  After getting shut down on his “brilliant” Fantasy Suite out of the limo idea he gets loaded, does some push ups, and then gets himself kicked out prior to the Rose Ceremony.  Nice work.  I was waiting for him to drop “hey Des, does this cloth smell like chloroform” on Des in the Fantasy Suite.  I’m sure this guy is first on Des’ brother’s “Peeple Hoo’s Ass I’m Gonna Kik” list—right below Sean.   At some apartment complex in NC close to the law firm he works at there was a Bachelorette watching party full of office girls shouting “I told you so” at the television set. 

15.       James, 27—Advertising, Chicago.  He’s pretty much Mikey T. with a bigger temper and a bigger penchant for swearing.  He looks like Al Capone.  For some reason, he got a Rose.  He's of the opinion that if he "plays his cards right" he will be the next Bachelor.  Right.  I can see it now.  "Hello, I'm Chris Harrison and welcome to this season of The F*cking Bachelor."  

16.       Larry, 34, ER doctor.  His pants were way too short.  His dip move failed--miserably.  He’s clearly the socially skewed, hyper-competitive doctor type.  I sensed a little Patrick Bateman from American Psycho lurking below the surface of those lesbian who owns her own bookstore glasses he was sporting.   He had no sense of humor and was either creepy or drunk.  Put a Band-Aid on it, Dr. Larry.  No Rose.

17.       Zack K, 28, publisher, CA.  Tux and sneakers.  Polite.  Seems relatively nice and normal—relatively.   Watch the video.  When Ben walked in after “earning” the first rose, he stood up, shook his hand, and said in a sincere voice, “congratulations, man.”  The others stewed in their own insecurity and jealousy.  That gesture says a lot about the guy in my opinion.  I like him.  I suspect he’ll tire of he sword fighting but he should stick round a while.  Rose. 

18.       Diogo, 29,  Ski Resort Manager.  Suit of armor. Even the shirtless guy thought he was an idiot.   Des asks Harrison, “where would a person even get a suit or armor?”  Harrison had to choke back “the Bachelorette Wardrobe Department after a few beers.”  Diogo tells us through his thick accent that he has an “explosion of love.”  Perhaps an explosion of English lessons would help him.  Gone. 

19.       Chris, 27, mortgage broker, Seattle, WA.  Fake proposal that morphed into his shoe being untied.  Lame, but not lame enough to get beaten by a suit of armor.  Rose. 

20.       Juan Pablo, 31, Former Soccer Player, Venezuela.  He woos her with his accent and shows her how to juggle his balls.  Apparently, the prospect of Desiree playing soccer on the wet driveway in her fancy dress with a foreign guy in turf shoes was so overwhelming to the rest of the men that they all had to jump in for an impromptu game of suit and tie soccer.  Juan Pablo got a rose—as he should have.  She already canned Diogo and his accent.  She keeps this one around for good measure.  

21.       Brian, 29, Financial Advisor.  He’s the low key guy with the baby soft jacket and jeans.  He dropped my favorite line of the night.  “I’m going to have to step it up.  I think I’m going to take my shirt off then put on a suit of armor and do magic tricks.”   Classic.  His under-the-radar approach worked.  Let’s hope he drops some of that humor on Des.  I’ll be rooting for him and his baby soft jacket.  Props to him for being himself.  Who would have imagined what a rarity that would be?     

22.       Micah, 32, The World’s oldest law student, Denver.  Hokey, colored, mix and match jacket with stupid shit on the back.  He lays it on as thick as peanut butter and tells Des that he designed his own suit.  Unfortunately for Micah he also designed his own exit.  No Rose.  

23.       Nick M., 27, NC.   No Rose.  That’s literally all I remember about the guy aside from the fact that he couldn’t rhyme.  Roses are Red, they sell pancakes in a diner.  Take your terrible rhymes and go back to Carolina.  No Rose.   

24.       Dan, 30, Las Vegas, Beverage Sales.  Aside from the cool job and cool location there’s not much to say about Dan.  I suspect he wanted it that way.   He played it under the radar and did enough to advance.  The good news is that he’ll have a hell of a home town if he makes it that far.  The bad news is that if he marries Des he’ll be forced to see every Cirque du Soliel  for the rest of his life.  Nice work, Dan. 

25.       Ben, 28, Entrepreneur from Dallas.  He loves his kid so much he brings him to meet a strange woman in Los Angeles and uses him as a pawn for attention.  Then he dumps the kid back into the limo and leaves him for 28 days while he poontangs around the world and (apparently) lies to Des.   Look, I can’t blame him for taking the Bad Guy role this season, but dude, leave your kid out of it.  His supposed girlfriend has Harrison’s phone number too.  That ought to be interesting.  He got a Rose. 

My favorite moment of the show was Desiree’s poorly concealed horror at least 18 guys into the big meet and greet.  She looked pissed and didn’t fake it very well.  Hell, I can’t say that I blame her.  The casserole is filled with bay leaves this time around.  She’ll have to spit a lot of them out before getting a bite she can swallow. 

Well, there it is.  With the Amazing Count at an incredible 17 (between Diogo and Juan Pablo I might have missed a few in Spanish, but I’ll concede those for our purposes) and the Journey Count at an unusually first show high of 7 we head off to unknown waters.  I’ll break down my impression of Des and other thoughts next time around.  Enjoy your week.  In the meantime, I’ll be enjoying a beer naked on my balcony while pondering the various viscosities of drilling fluid.  DP

It's Bachelorette Time and DP Returns

Well Hello, Readers.  What's new?  I know, I know.  Some Guy has been about as absent as a gay scoutmaster at a Boy Scouts of America rally over the past few months.  Believe me, it hasn't been from a lack of desire to write.  I've been swamped lately with work and that whole getting married thing that I still owe you a post about.  It makes me more uncomfortable than a bastard on Father's Day to leave my pet project sitting this long.  I won't insult your intelligence with an apology; rather, I'll make it up to you in laughs (I hope).   

Enough about me, though.  Let's talk about the upcoming Bachelorette season before I talk more about myself again.  As any good reporter not in the midst of a secret DOJ search of his phone records is apt to do prior to putting fingers to keyboard about such a hard hitting matter as Dez's 25 maybe one day potential fiances, I did my due diligence by scouring the ABC website and viewing the profiles of this season's bunch of Chachis.

 

Yes, that's actually Scott Baio.  We should all have a picture like that taken of us some time in our lives.  I'll see what I can do about getting mine done ASAP.  For those of you too young to appreciate it (Mallory) Scott Baio actually played Chachi Arcola on Happy Days and its eventual spin off, Joanie Loves Chachi.  That's neither here nor there for our purposes today, however.  Back to the subject at hand.

 

I'll have you know that I had grand plans to construct a clever, side-splitting post featuring some of my best insults about all of the men vying for an inevitable showdown with Dez's well-meaning but egregiously unstable brother this season.  Here comes the "however."

HOWEVER, upon scrolling through the Charcuterie of Chumps I couldn't help but be amazed (and yes, that's the appropriate word) by one Chump in particular. 

THIS GUY. 

Hell, he even looks like Chachi.  Who is he and why does he annoy DP, you ask?  Apparently, his name is Nick.  His "deal breakers" in relationships include "high maintenance label whores" and someone who has "no motivation or goals."  When asked if he prefers to be the pursuer or the pursuee in he answered as follows: 

 

"I think a balance of both is very important. The chase is what makes the milk worth the squeeze, and it's important to know that a woman wants to pursue me as well. It's a two-way street."

 

I know what you're saying:  "DP, how can it get any better?"  It's about to get better. 

 

In response to the "what is your favorite television show and why" inquiry, Nick answered, "America's Funniest Home Videos. Besides being on the show a few years back, I laugh out loud the entire show whenever I watch it."

 

I'm not done yet.  But I'll give you all a moment to wipe the drool off of your keyboards, change your underwear, and recover from The Vapors.

 

 

I have indeed saved the best part for last.  I'll share it with your before I break the rest of it down.  Nick is (as many of you have undoubtedly guessed) a Magician.  A freaking Magician.  Let's explore that a bit, shall we? 

First of all, magic--particularly the kind where a full grown man seeks validation after being ostracized in high school by dressing up in a cape, hiring hot, scantily clad women, and performing 'illusions'--pisses me off.  It's hokey, fake, and ridiculous.  It places a very close second behind clowns on my list of things I dislike.

Incidentally, Jake Pavelka would have made that list but after some thought I decided that the word "clown" was broad enough to include him. 

Secondly, raise your hand if you're a female in the audience who is reduced to a stuttering pile of mush at the mention of the word "magician."  I have no way of actually checking but I don't believe a saw any hands go up.  There's a reason that magic and kids' birthday parties go hand in hand:  adults think it's stupid.  Hell, the biggest trick this guy can pull off this season is making himself stick around past whatever stupid coin trick he's going to pull on Dez when he gets out of the limo.  If he has any sense of humor he'll ditch the silver dollar and pull a condom out from behind her ear.  My only hope is that Harrison has some fun with the guy with questions like, "are you planning on making the salami disappear?"  We should all be so lucky. 


Third of all, the guy's profile answers smack of misogyny.  Well, with the exception of the part where he admits that his favorite person in the world is his mother.  "Label whore," "The chase is what makes the milk worth the squeeze"?  Good Lord.  Instead of The Incredibly Magnificent Nick or whatever his rabbit-out-of-a-hat name is, the guy should stick with The Incredibly Sexist Nick.

Look, far be it from me to knock a guy pursuing his passion.  Good for him.  It's not too far from me to make fun of it, however.  Pick a card, any card.  How about the King of Douches, Nick? 

What an idiot.

Third, America's Funniest Videos? Is that show even on TV anymore? I suppose if he's into cats falling off counters and overweight fathers being hit in the groin with Wiffle bats he has a point. I'd rather watch all four Twilight movies in one sitting than suffer through an episode of scripted nonsense featuring home movies taken when Clinton was still in office.  Come to think of it, I'd like to see Robert Patinson get hit in the groin with a Wiffle bat. 

So where does this leave me? 

Subject to and without withdrawing any of my comments above, I'm totally rooting for this guy to magically appear at Dez's family's house so he can dazzle her brother with some sleight of hand. 

Go Nick. 

Well, there it is.  We're off.  I look forward to getting caught up with all of you this season.  Hit me up in the Comment section or on Twitter.  I'll sprinkle in some wedding stuff throughout the season since I've been getting a lot of requests for feedback.  Below is a pic from the Big Day.  Thanks for sticking around.  I look forward to the season.  In the meantime, if you need me, I'll be working on my salami illusions.  DP

 

 

 

 

DP Gets Hitched

Well Folks, it's official.  The SLF is Mrs. SGIA.  As such, we've both been extremely busy over the past couple of weeks and are now enjoying some downtime at a soon-to-be-disclosed location.  I've got  a mountain of material ready for my wedding post, however.  In fact, that mountain is so large it may have to be divided into a mountain range over a few posts.  In the meantime, I wanted to check in with all of you in order to thank those of you who made the effort to post a message on Facebook or to shoot me an email congratulating us on the Big Day.  It was a kickass time.  I'll be back soon (albeit a tad bit slower due to the newly anchored ball and chain around my leg).  That last part was a joke.  There's no way she'll read this post.

I hope you're all well.  We'll talk soon.  In the meantime, enjoy the picture of the groom's cake.  If you need me, I'll be passively nodding in agreement at every word that the SLF utters.

DP