But what if it was handjobs? Say the producers rounded up the ladies and brought them via limo bus (replete with stripper pole, no doubt) to some corporate headquarters where a bunch of rich, pantless executives were waiting in a boardroom to be yanked off. Upon climax, each man would donate $10,000 to a no-kill animal shelter by the sea. Would you do it because it was for a good cause? The answer is NO - you'd do it because Juan Pablo agreed to grease up his fist and masturbate a middle-age stranger right by your side. Isn't it romaaaaantiiiiiiiiccccccc? These are great lessons for young women.
We're getting so far ahead of ourselves!
Before the group date, Juan Pablo - who's losing his luster in record time! - took a couple of unlucky ladies on a couple of confusing one-on-one dates.
First, Juan Pablo whisks away a blindfold-clad Clare in a fancy car as all the other women in the house gather outside to see them off. My first thought was, "GET A LIFE, other women!" But then I remembered that they're contractually prohibited from having lives. I don't know. When I see a blindfolded woman in a car, I think murder. Like, throat-slit-and-body-burned-in-the-desert murder. Which would be such a dramatic twist! Especially because she's "pregnant." But nooooooooooo, he just took her to some place with manufactured snow so she can be equally delighted and mystified by her ability to see her own breath.
Even though she's sort of a weepy, pathetic customer - "I live this average mundane life and it gets kind of lonely sometimes" - Clare manages to have what appears to be a good time. Until they get in the hot tub. Hm. So you're in a hot tub with a guy you think is sexually desirable and you're straddling him and massaging his back and everything is flesh on flesh and you decide this is the PERFECT time to talk about what? Your dead dad.
Meanwhile, back at the house, Lucy is wearing a black rectangle over her breasts, the preferred outfit of professional free spirits everywhere. (P.S. I learned on ABC's website that Lucy believes that Kate Upton is her best friend, and I guess we have to take her at her word?)
At the end of their date, Clare and JP stand around in wet swimsuits whilst being serenaded by a fella named Josh Krajcik who has a large, shapely head and is apparently a big Bob Seger fan.
The next one-on-one date goes to Kat, whose cavernous dimples I imagine require regular cleanings with a Q-Tip. Because he "loves giving surprises," Juan takes her to an airport where they board a private plane NOT A HELICOPTER. Exciting! What exotic locale might they be off to?! SALT LAKE CITY. Very serious question: could there be anything worse than this date? "Fun run" my dick. For one thing, it requires wearing a jerk costume (as soon as he handed me that preselected outfit, I would have said, "No. Absolutely not"), you're forced to exercise, and it involves what I imagine is the worst music in the world; I'm EXTREMELY uncomfortable with the degree to which JP appears to enjoy electronic dance music. Plus the whole thing is just really loud so instead of talking the only way to communicate is for Juan to rub his pelvis against your butt for a few hours straight.
Speaking of speaking, a thing my viewing companions have noticed: the more deliberately JP speaks, the more he sounds like Kermit the Frog. But he'll never hold a candle to this special guy!
Alright so back to the group date. I really was offended by bluebeard's smarmy attempts to force two women to disrobe - but I think what they did to Kelly was maybe meaner? I guess the best way to describe the way they styled her is "earless, spotted dogmonster." Or goat sucker. Anyway, as horrifying as the prospect of being naked in front of all of those people and America is, Kelly was like, "No, seriously, I wish they would have asked me to just be naked."
She got the rose for looking like a dick all day.
But she's going to be outdone so soon! Victoria had been relatively quiet until she didn't feel like being quiet anymore. After a few glasses of champagne and a good, long soak in 100-degree water, the primitive part of her brain - the part that makes you curl up in the fetal position, sob uncontrollably, and forget that bathroom floors are just covered in germs - awoke and took hold. WHYYYY was she so upset? Who knows? A who cares, sorta. OOH I'll tell you who cares: Renee. She's a mom, see, and she's VERY concerned about everyone's well-being, which is getting really old really fast. Personally, I'd rather hang out with Victoria.
But what was the deal anyway? "I might've had a little too much to drink," says Victoria the following day, but mostly she just blames acting like a lunatic on the fact that she's a lunatic. "I feel everything very intensely," she says and then blames being Brazilian. Here's a question: wouldn't you prefer that people think you were drunk rather than irreversibly insane? Not Victoria. Anyway, JP sends her home because it's the rightest thing to do.
There are more tears at the cocktail party - Cassandra the former NBA dancer misses her son - but doooon't worry, Renee's got everything under control. Elsewhere, Sharleen is penitent for acting like an alien when JP gave her the first-impression rose last week, and still acts like an alien the whole time. She just seems awfully dull. Hey. If you know Sharleen in real life and she's ever made you laugh (like, on purpose), please contact me. I'd just like to know.
Then there's a rose ceremony and Chantel and Amy L. get sent home, the latter because she did that horrifying newscaster bit, the former because she's too normal to be here.
Next week: Kelly's dog gets a one-on-one date. I can't wait!
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