— In the show's intro, Chris Harrison reveals that the guy who Andi did NOT pick followed her to Mexico while she was on vacation, which is the act of a true wiener, which meant Nick definitely did that. Way to spoil it.
— Andi's father Hy tells Josh: "I feel exactly the same way about Andi that you do." Gross!
— Hy's Blessings to get married are meaningless, but, then again, I love a charade.
— Anyone else notice that Josh is a loud breather? It seems so purposeful, just like his top-and-bottom-teeth smile. It's like, I'm respirating, so I make BREATHING SOUNDS. But I guess it takes like a really big fan to motor a gargantuan humanoid.
BUT FIRST Ashley Hebert and J.P. Hebertbaum are back because she's pregnant and needs people to see that she has breasts now. But, no, that's not enough. She's going to find out whether she's having a girl or a boy right here in front of all her close friends in Bachelor Nation. Chris Harrison rips a hole in the side of her dress so the doctor can jam his wand in, and, frankly, Ashley's just lucky Harrison didn't tear her stomach open and fly away with the fetus in his beak. "You're part of the Bachelor Family now, baby."
Also, fuck, he keeps saying the "sex" of the baby, which sounds so vulgar coming from a man who is a prolific underpants sniffer.
The doctor inserts his wand beneath Ashley's muumuu - "What if there was no heartbeat - that would be so sad," said one of my darker viewing companions - and searches around until he finds a penis, which is good since J.P. basically reveals that if it was a girl he would have drowned it in a creek because you can't watch football with girls. (He didn't say anything like this.)
I came up with an answer that was unsatisfactory to my viewing companions, but we'll get to that later.
First, poor Chris! Just kidding! Congrats, Chris! You won the actual grand prize . . . YOU'RE GONNA BE THE NEXT BACHELOR. I don't have access to any insider info or privileged information, but I am a lady and I have what's known as a Woman's Intuition™ about these sorts of things (things that don't matter and don't make my life any better). I feel it in the bowels of my bowels. That or I have to go to the bathroom.
Speaking of diarrhea, Andi arrives in the Dominican Republic sporting a sleek side braid that looks like something straight out of the Suave Salon Chair Confidential handbook. "It's an amazing place to be in love with one guy at the end of this," she says of the Caribbean island nation. AND, in the meantime, it's a decent place to get boned by guys you kinda like OK.
While we watch the slideshow inside her brain, Andi goes over the things she likes about her final three. I'll summarize:
Josh: His personality - dark hair, piercing eyes, olive skin, height, and muscly build - is nice.
Chris: Cute but lives in rural Iowa, where the only entertainment is playing Ghosts in the Graveyard with a bunch of other adults.
Nick: Tells Andi he likes her a lot. Which she likes a lot.
After weeks and weeks of nervously picking at her meals and having cookies slapped out of her hand by Chris Harrison, Andi is FINALLY feeling bikini-ready for she and Nick's sexy date. Aw, and look. They wore matching swimsuits. The only way they could be matchier is if Nick was also wearing a bikini top. But first they go on HELICOPTER RIDE. The very first of the season, which is unbelievable. Andi says she's on Cloud Nine and it's like, no, excuse me, that's Desiree's cloud. Find your own fucking cloud.
How's this for a coincidence: we send seven marginally employed single people and a shitty country duo called American Young to Belgium to dry hump on park benches and swap spit in a monastery's pottery barn, and then Belgium handily beats the U.S. in the World Cup. Everyone should pretend to be mad at The Bachelorette just like we're all pretending we give a shit about the World Cup. Oh, I'm just kidding. You love soccer and you always have.
So, yeah, we're in Belgium and Andi would appear to be wearing a leather poncho and matching leather pants (she left the gimp mask in her hotel room). Every week of this journey is very important, but this week is extraspecially exponentially more important because it's the week leading up to hometown visits and Andi takes going into a family's home VERY SERIOUSLY. She says it many times. It's VERY SERIOUS to go into other people's homes.
- J.J. may have been sent home, but he's still nestled in everyone's hearts and wrapped around their throats. Almost all of these motherfuckers are wearing scarves now and I'm pointing the finger in J.J.'s general direction.
- Dylan is giving Andi's Suave-styled sophisticated ponytail a run for its money with his slick 'n' slimy half ponybun. Great look, man.
Marcus, the Most Boring Man on Earth™, gets the first one-on-one date on which they'll take "a taste of Brussels," which equals ordering mussels exclusively so Andi can say aloud that they're eating mussels in Brussels. Marcus thinks it's funny, which he indicates by repeating what she just said whilst almost smiling. Andi's not sure about Marcus because he threatened to leave at one point (I barely remember that because it's so hard for me to pay attention when Marcus starts talking), but he explains that he's just scared of emotions, which we know is a pile of shit because he IMMEDIATELY brings up writing in his journal like a woman. Also he's real into telling her he's in love with her which she is very in love with.
DID YOU LOVE JEN SCHEFFT'S ELEGANT HALF UPDO OR WHAT? I did.
Annnd we're back. Back for the final season of "True Blood" and back in Bon Temps, the dinky Louisiana town from whence we first met faerie halfling Sookie and the rag-tag band of supes and humans that follow her wherever she goes. Recent plotlines have largely kept us away from Bon Temps - stuck in an underground lair with power-hungry vampire fundamentalists, hiding out on alternate planes of existence with the faerie/vampire psychopath Warlow, and confined in the late Governor Burell's freaky Vamp Camp prison. The end of season six, however, finds Sookie and (most of) the gang back in Bon Temps, where they belong, just trying to get their lives back to normal.
The major threat posed at the end of season six is roving gangs of savage, Hepatitis V-infected vamps (Hep-Vs or H-vamps for short) who are devouring little towns like Bon Temps because they're hungry, dying, and have nothing to lose. Bill and Sam have devised a plan to pair every human in town with a vampire - the vamps to protect the humans from Hep-Vs and the humans to feed the vamps in exchange for protection. If only they'd gotten their shit together sooner.
As you may recall, Sam is weirdly the mayor of Bon Temps. Sookie and Alcide are together and appear to be settled, if not in a restless, forced kind of way. Jessica still feels really bad about eating three of Andy's half-faerie daughters, but at least she has her boyfriend from Camp, James, to get her through it. Jason and Violet, the 800-year-old vampire who made him forget he hates fangers, are still together, too. Pam took off to find Eric who, unable to deal with the loss of his sister Nora, took off post-Vamp Camp and was last seen burning on a mountain in Sweden.
The June 22 season seven premiere "Jesus Gonna Be Here" harks back to early seasons, pitting characters against more universal and timeless themes such as life and death, love and hate, guilt and innocence. Except, no one's really an innocent anymore. Instead of warring amongst themselves, a default plotline throughout the series, it seems the folks of Bon Temps will have to band together in unexpected and often painful ways to make it out alive.
I mean, Andi is being SUCH a judgey bitch about Josh being a former professional athlete. It's not enough that he's good looking (in a built-in-a-lab sort of way) or that he, I don't know, likes to travel and stuff. Nooooo sir. In the back of her mind, even when his tongues in the back of her throat, he's just another beefcake with toned abdominal muscles and a flaccid intellect.
OH WAIT. You thought I was gonna talk about Marquel and how woefully, disgustingly racist this show is! How he was kicked off before getting so much as a one-on-one date - despite being the most handsome, most likable guy of the bunch - but not soon enough to avoid learning he'd allegedly been referred to as a "blackie" by stupid Andrew. I'm not even necessarily sure J.J. didn't mishear the comment in question, but it doesn't really matter. Marquel was forced to feel like an other amongst a group of guys he'd become friends(ish) with and then react to it on national TV. He was great, but watching it was awful. But I guess we couldn't expect any less than the worst from a show that hasn't had a black lead figure in almost 30 seasons. If this isn't a preface to Marquel becoming the next Bachelor - if he wants anything to do with it - then they are shameless.
Or, if you hate yourself, you could spend two hours on Sunday and two more on Monday watching two episodes of The Bachelorette! That's what I did, not because I hate myself, but because I hate you guys. What? I don't know. I didn't take notes during Sunday's episode, but I think that's pretty much OK because the whole thing was devoted to dressing up like old people for no reason other than Bad Grandpa was a movie that people saw, and then to making an asshole out of Bradley and making us hate a song by a 90s R&B group we hadn't thought about in seven to ten years. Personally, I don't have any use for Boyz II Men now that the cool guy with the cane picked up his sticks (literally). The good news: he's not dead. I got afraid that maybe he was dead. But he does suffer from severe back pain due to scoliosis, so that's kind of sad.
Anyway, Bradley went home and never got to prove that he was a person who could actually sing, which is what he so desperately wanted to do. And if you watched the program with the closed captions on it was only made worse by the fact that his singing was always subtitled "vocalizing." Almost singing. Singing-type noises. At least he had a good cry before he left.
And then Monday night happened! You know, this season's been a little slow so far, what with the long one-on-one dates and the sending home of the only people who are any fucking fun whatsoever (besides Marquel - I love Marquel), so they're like alright, let's shake things up and take this show on the road to . . . CONNECTICUT! The finance and insurance capital of America! This is gonna be too much fun.
Speaking of guys, let's speak about guys!
Well, first, Andi. That's sort of a guy's name. Andi is a prosecutor from right here in Atlanta. She very much loves "putting away bad guys" - ooh, the black and white simplicity of it all - but not enough to not quit her job and be on TV instead. The point is, young ladies, your job is important, but not as important as finding a mate. But mostly it's not as important as being on the cover of US Weekly a bunch of times.
Andi's sister accompanies her to L.A. to pump up her ego a little, but gets the last laugh by not telling Andi that both of those evening gowns are the worst. "I don't know what I did to deserve 25 men flying across the country to meet me," Andi says. Of course the answer is literally nothing besides fly across the country to physically be there as well.
But they're here and that's all that matters, riiiiiiiiiiight?
I don't know that I have anything to say about every single one of them, but let's make fun of some of the more memorable ones.
He owed this to you. HE OWED IT TO US ALL.
Chris "Hardball" Harrison
Hi, but seriously, it's just me, Gwynedd. Wowee, whatta finale! What an "After the Final Rose!" I give Chris Harrison a hard time for a lot of things, like a.) resembling a bird, b.) being the proud owner of a storage shed filled with the dirty panties he harvests from the show's contestants, and 3.) being the devil incarnate, but I was worried the guy was gonna have an aneurysm during his "After the Final Rose" interview with Juan Pablo, although "worried" is probably the wrong word. It must've been superfun and comfortable for Nikki to sit there while her dumpy baby boyfriend refused to say "I love you" aloud and the orchestrator of everything that's awful in her life tried to pry the words from his cold dead hands. Ugh, and then you have Sean and fucking Catherine sitting atop their holy high horse and telling you how life and love work. (Des and Chris were also there, I think?)
But here's the thing - I ended up on Juan Pablo's side! Don't get me wrong, Juan Pablo is a total dicksneeze. Even his family thinks so. Even Rodolfo, the most loyal friend and cousin in the world, thinks so! But the people who make this show really went out of their way turn the guy into a fucking villain.
It's like Juan Pablo is like Hugo Chavez and The Bachelor's producers are the U.S. military people who supposedly participated in the '02 coup that overthrew his government! Juan's own people have turned against him, no thanks to them!
So Juan's been deposed (even the yellow M&M doesn't want to do commercials with him anymore) and then Chris is like, "Hey, keep opening up to us and exposing yourself to us," and Juan is like, "Hey, how about fuck you."
But WAIT we have a whole finale's worth of him being awful before I start sympathizing with a heavy-handed Venezuelan socialist president.
I know I've said it before, but the best two things about the "women tell all" specials are:
1. The crowd shots of women exchanging "uh huuuuggghhhhhh" looks with the women sitting next to them
2. Bachelorettes crying whilst watching footage of themselves crying
The specifically NOT best things are extended promos for forthcoming Muppet movies (although fun that a couple of felt puppets have so much more charisma than a certain Venezuelan puppet) and unnecessary interviews with the a-holes from the previous season. I didn't watch the interview because unless Sean and Catherin described in explicit Penthouse Letters-style detail their first sexual encounter, I don't want anything to do with it. You're married! We're done with you! Call us when you have a shithead kid we can gawk at.
I didn't get around to recapping last week's episode(s) because you know, sometimes life gets in the way, man, and I wasn't able to watch till later in the week. It was fun to see Piedmont Park on TV; I didn't recognize the gun range Andi brought Juan to, but it also looked really lovely. And her dad, Hy, gets to go down in history as the only parent who reacted properly to a guy telling him he's basically only looking for a stepmom for his (not-terribly-talented) child.
And then there was the Andi-fantasy-suite situation, which amounted to her realizing that spending more than 30 consecutive minutes with Juan Pablo is fucking awful, which any of us could have told her after watching two hours of this bullshit every week. TURNS OUT, Juan Pablo is shallow?? WHAT? He doesn't know or care about your values or beliefs? WHAT??!?!?! She grills him and he's like, "Hey, two can play at this game," but it turns out that he is very bad at it ...
Ultimately, Andi had a breakthrough. The conditions under which the show is filmed are not conducive to forming strong bonds. Yes, it's especially hard if the person you're attempting to bond with isn't equipped with the ability to read or understand other people's feelings. Or even comprehend the words they say, really (and that's not an ESL jab, it's an I-think-he-might-be-stupid jab). But, c'mon, really it's the show itself. It's not that Juan Pablo mentioned having an overnight with Clare - it's that this pervert program dictates that he have an overnight with three women, nearly at the same time. Andi's smart, so I'm sure she gets that. OR DOES SHE ...
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