Mike Fleiss, Next Entertainment, and ABC Television has a message for YOU, the serious Bachelor Fan!
Well, that was lovely. After months of the loyal fans of the Bachelor wheedling, crying, pleading, and even begging Producer/Human shitburger, Mike Fleiss, to name any other XY chromosome creature on the planet as the next Bachelor besides Jake Pavelka; Fleiss has made his call and let his feelings about each of us be known: We Can all Go Straight to Hell! Needlessly waiting for two months to make a choice that could have been made even before Jillian Harris' Bachelorette had ended, Dr. FrankenFleiss went into his lab and reanimated the corpse of his newest FrankenBachelor: Jake "Chessemachine" Pavelka. Bozo the Clown would have been a better choice...and a damn sight more believable in the role. Fleiss even had the cajones to subtitle the coming monstrosity: "On the wings of love!" on the odd chance that anyone was dense enough to see this as anything but a joke.
More stunning than the single-digit IQ required to make such a choice, is the gall required to slap the most loyal of the fanbase right across the mouth, despite their pleas. In the last several weeks, I've seen every imaginable name in the Bachelor pantheon bruited about as a contender--from former hotties to third-rate also-ran's cut on the second episode three seasons ago--as alternatives to Jake Pavelka. In the closing hour before the announcement was made, the desperation and panic became so thick that people were actively calling for last seasons' villain of villains, Greaseball Wes Hayden, to be given the part instead. And yet he did it anyway. Even P.T. Barnum knew that you had to give the suckers what they wanted. How I'm supposed to blog about this and control my gag reflex is beyond me.
I will blog about the coming season for as long as I can. I'll make no promises beyond that. I will attempt to find humor in what is essentially an insult, and I'll do it for as long as I can possibly stand it, or until the horrifying acting of Pavelka burns my retinas out and I go blind. Fleiss has left me no choice on how to approach it either. He has chosen the one human being that I did not want to see, and put him in charge of his own insane clown posse of women. I now pledge to become the "Cheese Grater", and dedicate my energies to eviscerating Pavelka--cell by cell--every single week. Make no mistakes, that woman who outed The Cheeser to the press a few weeks back was clearly shooting off her mouth in hopes that she could escape the approaching train wreck. I hope for her sake that she succeeded, but I doubt it. Women already cast for the show are probably doing anything in their power to make their escapes now: becoming impregnated, catching VD, exposing themselves to Swine Flu, or having themselves committed to an insane asylum. What's a few weeks in Bellvue compared to this nationally televised humiliation?
Fleiss must loathe us. I'm gonna' loathe him right back. Lock up the kiddies, folks. This season, this blog will be rated "P" for piratical. Candy asses stay clear! The Jolly Roger is going up the main mast. Argh!