Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Bachelor 3/31--Spray Tan in a Can: The Further Adventures of the Dalai Lamas.

Can we stop pretending yet? Do any other girls in the hen house even matter as anything more than drama filler? Is Matt Grant English? I've forgotten. Other than a Union Jack hanging in one of the bedrooms and the producers insistence that the girls play rugby instead of football, this show is no different from any other with one exception. That exception is Shayne Lamas--an "F" list celebrity who looks and acts more like a porn star than an real actress.

But I suppose it doesn't matter. The Bachelor, hard to swallow in the best of times, is becoming damn near unwatchable. I couldn't tell you a total of five things about any other girl in the house (combined) besides the Dalai Lamas. I guess we just need to play out the string and see where this goes.

Where it starts is with the wingman holding court at the hen house and letting the women know what this week's dates look like. He announces a group date and two, one-on-one's. The first one-0n-one leads to us to Mann's Chinese Theater for a shameless plug of some chickflick starring "McDreamy" from Grey's Anatomy. The date box is supposed to be a film can I guess, but it actually looks like a garbage can, which in this case is probably delicious irony. An interlude shows the Dalai Lamas saying, "If he sends me home, I'll just die!" We can only hope. Grant however takes Holly, the Goldie Hawn look-a-like instead, and the two of them head off for a completely staged red carpet experience complete with fake paparazzi and a few stooge reporters the network ordered their affiliates to send.

They plant their hands in cement just like real celebrities and then watch the film alone in the cavernous theater. Almost immediately you start to get the 'Buddy-Vibe' from these two. Grant nudges her with his elbow that's faintly reminiscent of a Monty Python gag. Obediently she cried during the films romantic climax, and it makes me shudder at what horror Fleiss inflicted on her to get her bawling. The cement cast they made at the theater doesn't go to waste either. Fleiss ships it back to the hen house so the other women can curse and spew all over it. The Dalai Lamas does everything but piss on it. Bleh.

Grant then drags Holly over to a hotel and gives her the old, "Maybe we're too comfortable with each other" line. I didn't know there was a version of that in merry old England. She responds with some lame shit about writing children's books. Children's Books?! Whats the matter, couldn't they find a professional kidney donor? Anyway, despite the persistent friend buzz, Hot Lips Grant drags her into the hot tub and smooches her. It has all the heat of kissin' cousins. But since she was a good sport about it, he gets up off the rose.

A "Sexy" Game of Rugby

Rugby, sexy? Not exactly. It's about as sexy as badminton but the press releases kept telling us that and they brainwashed me. And they certainly found the most un-athletic group of women they could find for it too. All except Chelsea--more on that in a minute. They all practice first with some butch-looking British woman while Grant ogles their asses. Or should I say arses? No matter. Grant watches them practice and the women roll around in the mud like he promised them a 'fiver' in the their g-strings if they get muddy enough. He is also somehow impressed by Robin the Bobbin, who...er, does something or other. I couldn't tell what but Hot Lips was definitely impressed.

Anyway, the game starts and we get an immediate feel of how things went. Despite the editing trying to hide it, you get the feeling Chelsea scored at will. Ashlee, the singer songwriter who must weigh 85 lbs. actually had the temerity (or insanity) to try and tackle Chelsea in the open field and has the cleat marks in her scalp to prove it. Chelsea promptly trampled her. Argh!"She ran me over like some kind of dude!" That's exactly what it looked like too.

Meanwhile back at the hen house, Holly and the Dalai Lamas powwow and it turns out Shayne is just "dying to tan!" Retch. Anyway, Holly actually brought a tanning machine with her. Right. The damn thing's the size of a pressure washer and she just happened to bring it along, eh? After Shayne hears this she and Holly do some completely impromptu naked spray tanning with the Dalai Lamas peeling her clothes off like her stage name is actually Mona Lott. The only thing missing was the funky seventies music and a guest appearance by Ron Jeremy. By the time they're finished Shayne glows in the dark.

Meanwhile back at the rugby match, Marshana gets elbowed in her formidable chops and actually bleeds...sort of...a little. But the lack of blood doesn't halt the Bachelor drama. Grant acts like she needs stitches and Marshana acts like she's been decapitated. Chelsea rags her pretty good for being a wimp and I start to absolutely love her for it. Marshana sits on the sidelines trying to hog Grant's attention while wearing a ice pack on her huge lip bigger than the one in the arctic . In hindsight, I can't believe Fleiss didn't call an ambulance. Hehe, oh the cheese. Anyway Chelsea's team wins the match (surprise, surprise.)

Grant takes the women to "his" house as a reward for the efforts on the rugby pitch. Two Masseuses are waiting to give the girls a rubdown and give them an excuse to disrobe. Marshana, either reading off a cue card or demonstrating a room temperature I.Q. , informs us that she "likes Matt even more for getting us a masseuse." Zzzzz. Grant pops up in a one-on-one interview and proves his limeyness by sporting second degree burns on his face from February sunshine. Hahah, Malibu in July? This guy would make like a vampire and become ashes. He chooses 3 pack-a-day Kelly, already half-drunk, to go and get the first massage with him. Not content with oodles of dirty innuendo, she climbs atop him and give him some dirty rubbin'.

Chelsea, obviously expecting the rose, baits the girls into all but admitting she should get it. You get the feeling by the way they talk that she did look like Red Grange but now the producers decide the time has come to crown a queen bitch for the season. And that bitch is Shayne--but we aren't supposed to think that. It's actually Robin the Bobbin because she's Gasp! competitive! He gives the rose to Robin who must have scored a lot on the rugby pitch...or not. 3 pack-a-day, now slurring and looking like trailer trash, mumbles something derogatory about Robin. Chelsea says, "I think I deserved it." She did. Nice move producers.

Winery and a Bimbo.

Grant now moves to pick up the Dalai Lamas for her pole dancing lessons, I mean winery date and he arrives in someone else's Maserati to do it. Shayne, dressed like she's a member of ABBA, piles in to the car and off they go. Grant does his best to act coy about his true feelings for her but the guy ain't foolin' this pirate. The girl is hot--Grant knows it--she knows--and that's that! He corners her and forces her to admit that her dad is Lorenzo Lamas. She tells him, "You won't know who he is." Turns out, Grant didn't. Fleiss should have hired Billy Crystal to come floating in with the white wig and the snowy ascot going, "Shayne, dahling! You look mahvelous! Absolutely mahvelous!" She talks about coming from multiple broken families and basically says she's not ready to get married yet. Grant says, "She's not just a beautiful actress. There's a lot more to her." Yeah, whatever. Under duress, she admits to being high-maintenance and then cops to having more shoes that Imelda Marcos. She's into,"cars, shoes, handbags, sunglasses, and watches." Grant thinks she's joking. Idiot.

Back at the hen house, Bobbin yammers non-stop and apparently her irritating banter is enough to send Amanda over the edge and she gets the meeps. I wish they would show us something--anything!---about Amanda besides her hiccuping.

Shayne and Grant cuddle up at the winery and he slips her the rose. She treats him like he's Houdini because he stashed it behind a pillow. I can't figure out whether or not she's drunk again or just a moron. Don't suppose it matters anyway, she gives Grant a boner and that's all that does.

Rose Ceremony

Part two of the Robin is an asshole preview for next week. This weeks setup is to trample Robin down into small enough bits to show her as "the girl everyone hates." But before they get going destroying her character for her, Chelsea gets a pretty hot kiss and Noelle, (Yes!) sheds some tears and acts sweet and sane. (Get rid of her). Amy (Who?) has a few precious seconds with Grant before Robin steals him away--despite already having a rose. Three girls all storm out and snatch Grant away from Robin as next weeks set up gets firmly under way. All the girls jump on Robin and she says something nasty and Chelsea warns her she's going to "get smacked in the face." Gulp! I can practically see Robin's head rolling off her shoulders. Then Kristine talks with Grant. (Who!?) Is there a girl named Kristine on this show? Holly, who already has a rose as well, snatches Grant away but is never branded a bitch. That makes sense. Unless it doesn't.

The wingman arrives and clears the joint out and it's rose time:
1+2+3) Early roses: Holly, Shayne, Robin.

3) Madam Hiccup. And she doesn't meep.

4) Ashlee--rewarded for having Chelsea's foot print branded into her forehead.

5) 3pack-a-day. He likes his women loaded.

6) Chelsea. Damn straight!

7) Noelle--wish I knew something about her. She seemed really nice--two weeks ago.

Harrison consults his star charts and let's us know its the last rose of the night.

8) Marshana--the token lives on!

Cut: Amy (who?) , Erin the hotdog-vendor-dude, and Kristine (who?)

Exits this week have a few tears but they appear to be more about self-pity than any great sense of loss.

Next week: Robin gets crowned: Queen Bitch of the Universe! Argh!

No comments: