5/1--Beat the Dead Horse

Ugh. That was just plain damn ugly. Mean drunks suck. One hour and forty-five minutes of watching a mean drunk was like having my nuts pulverized with a ball peen hammer. And when Caveman Dave wasn't beating his chest and howling at the moon like a drunken ape, Toe-jam Tanner was on hand to publicly boast of his foot-fetish in such graphic detail that I wanted Caveman Dave to crush his balls with a sledgehammer to protect the rest of the civilized world. Amidst the overkill of bad human tricks, the Producers managed to wedge in about 5 minutes of actual romance. But they couldn't even do that without forcing the star of the show to participate in an oral orgy that would have sickened Larry Flynt. Not content to gross us out with the worst and most base behavior of the male of the species, they were sure to introduce a Brokeback Mountain flavor to the show...because there hasn't been enough of a homoerotic vibe on this set already. Damn, this show is pure class.

Your Five Minutes of Romance

Wingman Harrison announces the date line-up in the usual manner. Two 1-on-1 dates and one group orgy--er mouthrape contest--er group date filmed at a Cowboy set. The 1 0n 1 date (at least the first one) was about the only satisfying moment of the entire night. Jillian takes Ed--the guy I have been calling: A Brad Garrett look-a-like, (but who the Wench Queen in her terminal perfection, showed me actually looks like some dead dude on Grey's Anatomy named "Denny" ; so now he's Drop-Dead Ed)--to scale a skyscraper. First I thought they were going to climb it, then I thought they were going to hop off it on one of those ziplines. Damn, I was impressed there for a minute. Then I thought they were going to rappel down it. Wow. But then I saw they were going to be lowered over the side and slowly eased down to a pool deck by a crew using a block and tackle--and when I say slowly I mean S-L-O-W-L-Y. It was like bungee jumping in slow motion...out your front door. So much for being impressed. Anyway, Drop Dead said he was scared but didn't want to wimp out on front of Jill. He does launch a good one while hanging there in his block and tackle seat: "You better give me a rose!" Way to piss your drawers, Ed. Silly building stunt over. Then Jill takes him into a swimming pool and proceeds to ride all over his crotch while they smooch. So much for that mystery. The make, model, and caliber of the weapon Ed has hidden in his shorts is no longer a secret to our favorite Canadian.

Jill then takes him up to the roof of the Bonaventure Hotel and Ed proceeds to get several casting directors fired for looking and acting (Dare I say it!) sincere. Who the hell let this guy on the show!? Not once did I hear Ed profess his undying love; he didn't pull out his guitar and serenade her with a song from his up-coming CD nor did he promise to fly her to Uganda for dinner or build her a magic fairy-castle in the sky. Instead Ed talked earnestly about having trouble balancing his career and personal life and instead of sounding ready for his close-up, he acted and looked both uncomfortable with the cameras around and (gasp!) genuinely interested in Jillian. (Hell just froze!) When Jill asked him what he wanted to ask her, he cut straight to the chase and asked if he was going to get the rose because he was "really nervous." Jillian, obviously unaccustomed to sincerity in her suitors, spluttered and practically stapled the rose to his chest in a frenzy. (So much for making him sweat, Jill.) Ed, like any good Field General, sensed his move had unbalanced his opponent and moved in for a quick snog. Jillian ( in diametric opposition as to how she will behave later) grabbed his hands, slammed them around her waist and sucked his face off. (It's early, but we may have a player here, folks.) Hope you enjoyed that because that's about it. Sweetness just about over.

The Good. The Bad. And the downright Gay.

Maybe I should have titled this the spit-swapping Olympics. Jillian takes eleven--I said ELEVEN Guys--for some intimate, forced, dumbassed-looking, make-out filming at some kiddie cowboy land. The boys all get dressed up in various cowboy outfits and then make out with Jillian. It was forced, coerced, and looked like contractual rape for the most part. Toe-jam Tanner gets dressed like Uncle Cletus, while they miss a delicious opportunity and dress Liberace Juan in a bad-assed Clint Eastwood outfit while forcing several straight guys to dress like members of The Village People. Brad, the dork, gets his shot to kiss Jill and takes a novel tack by playing dead. Pathetic is a good description. After that it turns into a mouth-orgy as one guy after another gets his snog. It gets so embarrassing at one point that Jill has to remind them: "Hey, you guys, no tongues!" Lovely. Greaseball Wes takes her aside for a dose of his arrogant, country swagger and basically accuses her of cheating on him. Jill brushes it off by saying "It's a-BOAT acting."He then plays it folksy and kisses her cheek, obviously fearing trench mouth from all the action she's been getting. The lone spark of anything interesting comes at the end when Robby the bartender gets his shot. They do their scene and Robby tries to imbue it with some passion and at the end, he lifts her off the ground and they go at it. Robby must dig her because by this time in the shoot he had to be gargling about a galleon of backwash from Liberace Juan and co. but bravely dives in anyway. This one Jill says: "Wasn't acting." I could tell. They finish the shoot by making the Mike's; both breakdance and the speedo-wearing Marblesack, do a gay scene. That's appropriate on a heterosexual dating show. Huh? What the hell was that for? This was insulting to gay people and Liberace Juan already has that affront adequately covered. Stoopid.


Prime-time Porno

Eleven guys and one girl in a hot tub? Yeah, I've seen that before...just never on Network TV. It looked exhausting then. This time it just looked lame. We finally get to see Reid, who drags her aside and confesses to having been in-love: "One and a half times." Huh? That sounds like being pregnant three and two-thirds times. Nevermind. It's the first time Reid has been trundled out and despite that weird intro he looks positively glowing compared to these other losers. It's also the first time we've seen Jill drink too much. Bad timing girl. A hot tub filled with eleven guys is probably the wrong place and time for an 85 lbs. woman to start hitting the sauce. It's also the beginning of Toe-jam Tanners decision to get bombed and play a game called: What's my Perversion!? He starts heavy breathing over her feet again. It will get worse. Robby the bartender shows some smoothness and gets the date rose. Jill then takes them all to a wrap party where we get to see the entire gigolo farm mouth-munch her all over again. Barf!


Classic Car Date with a Bag of Cement

Jillian now goes on a 1-on1 date with the unfortunately named Sasha. They do a photo shoot and then he races her around a blocked-off section of LA in a Ferrari. Sounds pretty hot. Dinner ensues and Sasha relates a horrifying tale of injury and grim, human perseverance and triumph over astounding odds: "The truck flipped on me, crushed, my pelvis, left me paralyzed...ZZZZZZZZZZZ" Whoa! Sorry I nodded off there a minute. Please explain to me how someone can tell a tale of such horror and triumph and make it sound like a civics conference on C-Span 2? That must violate some Law of Celestial Physics or something right? Truth is, this guy is about as interesting as a bag of potting soil. With material like that you should never be boring. Jill stiffs the guy and no one can blame her. Date over.

Country-fried loser

After dumping her bag of compost, Jill heads home to be serenaded by Greaseball Wes, who crashes the mansion on her invite and warbles out his next big seller. Conveniently, new mansion-dwellers Drop Dead Ed and Robby the Bartender are nowhere in sight to object. (Yawn). Bad-boy syndrome indeed.

Cocktail Party from Hell

With forever left to fill on the two hour time slot it's time for the Producers to fill! fill! fill! and they do this by showcasing an endless montage of Caveman Dave getting drunk, bullying people, and acting like a total asshole. Editing notwithstanding--Producer needling notwithstanding--this guy has a drinking problem and he's a complete douchnozzle. I hope for his sake he was acting because he looked like a human turd. We've seen drunks both male and female on this franchise but this is the first time I can remember anything this ugly. It would have been more pleasant had he vomited on the ground and passed out on the pool deck. This was just ugly and future wife-beater was written all over this guy. And it goes on and on and on. If I wanted to see shit like this I'd hang around outside bars at two in the morning. The producers sensing hype, shove Liberace Juan into his path at every opportunity. Juan, looking like he accidentally wandered into the mansion thinking it was the set of A Chorus Line, plays the verbal punching bag as Dave rants and raves: "Me Beat! Me Chop! Me Kill!" And with extra alcohol all around Toe-jam Tanner breaks loose and parades his perversion before the entire world. "I'm into peace, man. I'm just here to suck some toes!" This is a romance show? Eat me, Fleiss.

Lost amid the hollering and disgusting antics of our resident pervert and local drunkard, Kiptyn from Krypton says a few words to Jill and scores some smooches. Jill says: "The getting to know each other is going a little slow but the physical side is moving fast." I think that translates into: "He won't tell me anything about himself but damn, he's hot!" This is obviously the editing plan this time around. A handful of the guys are always lurking near the edge of the stage lights, standing in the background, and acting suspiciously like adults. I'm going to dub these guys: The Invisibles. We got our first glimpses of Reid, Ed, Jesse, and a couple of others while the circus of drunken perverts and obvious famewhores has been paraded about as a distraction. I'm ready for the circus to end.

Cocktail Party

Drop Dead Ed predicts a "Train wreck!" and he's hard to argue with. Jill is certainly drunk enough as she has a sit down with the wingman to fill some time. She mumbles a few stock answers to his cheesy questions and it's time at last.

Already safe: Drop Dead Ed and Robby the Bartender

Jill comes out and has a mini-melt and shaky voice. This girl doesn't have a lick of showbiz in her and she seems to lack the cruelty gene as well. Nice person, but a good Bachelorette? The ratings will tell.

1) Jake, the Cheesemachine. I guess they didn't need an instant proposal tonight because this guy was really invisible.

2) Reid. Nice to meet ya, fella. I don't even need a nickname for him either. Who the hell names their kid "Reid" these days? But I'm not complaining. We could use a little more Leave it to Beaver vibe after tonight.

3) Mark. Who? There's invisible and INVISIBLE! Which is he? We shall see.

4) Jesse. Hi, who are you?

5) Toe-jam. Ugh, I need a shower.

6) Greaseball Wes. If I promise to illegally download your album, will you go away!?

7) Liberace Juan. Fab-u-lous!

8) Mike, the breakdancer. Compared to many others, looked far less callow, stupid, and gay this week.

9) Kyptin from Krypton: "Mumble, mumble, slurp!"

10) Marblesack Mike. Sure, why not?

11) Caveman Dave. "Grunt!" Chapter President: Future Wife-Beaters of America. Scores a perfect "10" on the 'dickter scale'.

Dumped:

Tanner F. Explain that one?

Brad, the dork. Rounds off this evening of wholesome family fun by getting absolutely shitfaced and crying. Bully.

Next week: Off to Vancouver where Caveman Dave gets some 'cheek'. And not the kind he wants either.

See ya then!