YOU KNOW YOU WANT SOME, LADIES!
Well, so much for that background check thing. I'm beginning to think Bachelor Producer/Human Maggot, Mike Fleiss, and his showrunner Martin Whatshisname, actually do perform background checks on contestants--they just insist the person have three unresolved relationships and a history of mental illness before they let them on the show. That's what it seemed like last night anyway. Bad enough it looked like a reality show filmed inside a loony bin, but they also decided to add spastic dancing and are trying to set the season record for most incidences of bad singing. Toss in the whiny vagina known as Jonathan the Weather Elf and it looks like Dr. FrankenFleiss is trying to combine the worst aspects of Hoarders and America's Got (No) Talent into one sad spectacle of a show. It's also starting to look like Dramamine is this season's sponsor too, as they take flying-phobic Ali F. and start flying her all around the globe. That's the good news too, however. It looks like instead of much romance, we're going to get to see some pretty cool vistas. We begin the journey metropolitan-style.
The Wingman shakes awake the Hangover Crew and packs them away from the Bachelor Mansion and on to New York. He tells them they won't return and that Ali awaits them in the Big Apple. No, actually that's a lie. Ali isn't waiting on anyone--she's doing a cross promo pimp for In-Style Magazine that, just coincidentally, goes on sale right this very day. She shows up at the Mags headquarters looking like she spent two hours in make-up before filming started so some arrogant fashionista homo can tell her she looks like a redneck. He then subjects her to two more hours of make-over work before she emerges and looks...exactly the same but with trendy New York clothes on. They snap a bunch of pics as the Nerd Posse arrives in the city.
Oft unseen Chris L. provides some narration to let us know that Kasey Mushmouth, the recipient of the first one-on-one date of the evening, is basically out of his gourd. Save your breath, Chris; Fleiss is about to do it for you. I've been dreading this date since night one. How am I supposed to write a recap of a date when I can't understand a word one of the daters says? Forgive me if I have to wing it here a bit, but I'm sure it will sound saner and less embarrassing than the Mushmouth himself did. A helicopter arrives as intercuts are showing us interviews with Kasey where he is making bold predictions about his chances with Ali: "Rasafrackta Gerdherhearta!" In desperation, Fleiss sends in a helicopter to drown the guy out and give him an excuse to insert some subtitles. But unfortunately, what goes up must come down, and the helicopter eventually lands and Mushmouth breaks into song. (No, I'm not making this up.) Ali, god bless her, laughs right in his face, but nothing can stop the Mushmouth now that he's on a roll. The more excited he gets, the faster he talks. By the time they arrive at the Museum of Natural History and take a flashlight tour (what was with that about?) he sounds like a gibberish machine gun. They run around the museum where Kasey trades talk with a stuffed gorilla that probably understood him better than I did. Bad enough he's unintelligible and obviously unhinged, but the worst part was the one of every three words I could catch: "Guard your heart...you're imaginary...spend my life looking into your eyes...someone to guard my heart like I guard yours...." he sounded like a robot programmed by Nora Roberts. Nauseating, doesn't begin to cover it. He busts out some more singing and I'm begging the Wench Queen: "Turn it down, turn it down!" Ali finally shushes him somehow and tells him he sounds like a Hallmark Card, not a human being. She stiffs him on the rose but doesn't send him home (The Producer's have plans for this guy!) The last scene was him crying because she doesn't believe his sincerity...I think.
The Lying King
Next up is the group date featuring: Captain Kirk, Groucho Roberto, Jonathan the Weather Elf, Tennessee Ty, Jesse the Contractor, Frankfurter the Human Cartoon, and Palooka Craig. The boys wander down Broadway looking lost with only a few hundred crew members to guide them until they come upon a jumbotron where Ali is vamping at them. They spot her across the street on the veranda above the theater showing the Lion King. She leads them inside and is starting to look and sound a little punk, but guides them down to the stage where some Tony-Award winning somebody tells them to win a rose from her they will need to try out for the play. The boys are all dressed in gym shorts and T-shirts and try some dancing...and I emphasize the word TRY. Funniest is the sleazy lawyer, Palooka Craig, who busts moves like a rusting robot. Also looking surprisingly leprechaunish is Frankfurter, who hops around looking handicapped and sporting pin-needle-sized legs. "I'm normally a good dancer," he insisted. I guess normally was the operative word here. The director-guy sits in the seats like its a real audition and joins in the flim-flammery by noticing Groucho Roberto, "Has Roberto done this before?" No, not unless you're looking for a guy to throw half an inning of 12 -hit baseball during the Second Act, he hasn't. A millisecond cut shows Roberto spin around without falling down and we're supposed to believe he's the next Fred Astaire. The comedy dancing over, its time for some ear-shattering singing. One after another, the boys belly up onstage and try and shatter all the glass in the theater. Tennessee Ty, who purports to be some kind of singer, is as putrid as the rest. It's all ear-covering until Jesse the Contractor blows em all away with a shockingly good rendition of Can You Feel the Love Tonight? (You could almost sense Ali look at the producers and shake her head anyway.) Roberto steps up, looks directly at Ali, waggles his caterpillars at her, and breaks my glasses he's so off key. That thump! you heard as he finished singing just before Ali squealed "Awww!"and ran to him was the sound of a pigeon, falling dead from the rafters. But there's little doubt who gets to perform in the show that night, and its a good thing the director auditioned their dancing and singing talent since Roberto and Ali were required to hang above the stage on high wires dressed like half-naked tangerines and make out for ten seconds. ZZZZZ.
Once they're finished performing Shakespeare in The Park, Ali hauls the boys to a swank hotel lounge where she proceeds to get really sick. Her voice failing, various dudes try and sweep in for the kill anyway. She takes Frank for a walk and heads outside into a hurricane so she can reassure the jittery one that their connection is solid. After getting some of hers, and Roberto's germs all over him, he has to practically carry her back inside. This doesn't stop skeezy lawyer, Palooka Craig from sitting her down and making his pitch, "...in the end, its going to be you and I together." She can only croak in response. Meanwhile, the Weather Elf has been working himself up into a tizzy, spouting lame weather humor and whining like an ovary. He moves into steal her but Palooka tells him to get lost and like a little fairy, he tucks his tail and runs away. Moments later, Captain Kirk, still trying to shake that macrame scrapbook debut, reaches over Craig and just takes her. The Weather Wimp whines he just couldn't do it. You know, I'm starting to get excited about Bachelor Pad ever since the cast leaked out. I'm actually looking forward to Craig Walken-drunk terrorizing this little excretion on an hourly basis. Anyway, Kirk tells her to go to bed in a fairly manly fashion and she departs with him. He tucks her into bed as the other douches realize there will be no rose tonight.
Magical Chicken Soup
Birthday boy, Chris L. is up next and he's on the next one-on-one date, but...not so fast, my friends. Turns out Ali has taken a real turn for the worse, and their date in canceled. But much to his delight, she's invited him over to her hotel to take care of her. Wow, congratulations, Chris; for your birthday you get to take care of some sick chick who got ill tonguing ten other guys. Happy Birthday! But Chris just grins, tosses on a flannel shirt like he's about to go dig clams, and says he is confident. Considering the competition, bud, I would be too. The producers supply him with a bouquet of flowers and a gallon of chicken soup and he heads to her place. They eat, lie in bed and coo while he hammers her with that crooked smile of his. Soon, Ali feels much better and insists on taking him out for his birthday. They walk to some swanky club the producers have cleared out for them and have a serious talk. (Kindly take note, this is Serious Talk # 3. The first two went to Frank and Roberto--make of that what you will.) They talk about Chris' dying mom (and I assume a lot else Fleiss neglected to show us) and then she leads him up onto the roof where Josh Radin and a choir serenade them. They swap germs, signaling Chris L.'s ascendancy into the playa club and telling me I'd better find a nickname for him fast.
While Ali and Chris are having their serious talk, Kasey Mushmouth has decided to lead the camera team to a tattoo parlor where he can look positively-stark-raving-bananas and get a shield protecting a heart tattooed on his wrist. I'm sure there is talk out there that the tattoo is a fake Fleiss had painted on the guys wrist--doesn't matter. The guy is a fruitloop. He needs to have "Lunatic" tattooed on his forehead. He returns to the hotel and lies, saying he burned himself. A producer then tells Rated-R Wrassler-dick, who has spent the entire night communicating almost solely by smirk, that he is lying, setting up the closing inanity of the night and probably something as equally stupid and insane for next week.
Here, let me summarize the amazingly dramatic confrontation between Mushmouth and Wrassler:
Wrassler: "You're lying."
Mushmouth: "Rasafracka areyouquestingmeintegraty!"
Wrassler: "Yes." (Smirk) "You might be lying to Ali too, just like me."
Wrassler: "A producer told me and was so desperate to get it across they let Chris N. speak."
There. That was sorta it. Anyway, Mushmouth reveals his tattoo to the doofus brigade and they all just stare at it in disbelief. Frank finally claps him on the back, "That will show her," then hustles off to a private interview: "This guy is nuts!" Thanks Frank, we appreciate the heads-up. Ali comes in and Mushmouth gets her alone but to keep him from revealing the tat for another week, Frankfurter is sent on a mission of theft and barges in for the steal. Mushmouth wanders off, knowing his place in Bachelor history is secure. The Weather-Elf then moves in to finish off my hearing with another song. Craig Walken-drunk, I take back everything I ever said about you. Please kill this guy.
Roses: Already safe: Chris L.
1) Captain Kirk
3) Palooka Craig. Haha, ok.
4) Chris N. Huh? Must communicate telepathically, I guess.
5) Groucho Roberto--say the magic word and get to appear in the Lion King!
6) Rated-R Wrassler-Ass--Smirk
7) Tennessee Ty--Filler--like oatmeal
8) Kasey Mushmouth-"Rrarareguardherhearta!" Dude, I speak for America: Shut the Fuck Up!
Cut: Jesse the Contractor--dude, you got rooked. If this were an election instead of a show, you'd have grounds for a lawsuit. Worst exit choice I've seen in many seasons. And, the Weather-Elf--Thank god! Actually threw less of a hissy fit than I was expecting. They probably told his he was such an embarrassment, he was going to be on Bachelor Pad.
Ok, next week it time for more Dramamine as they all head off to Iceland. You know where I'll be.
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