Sean, Week 3--Is Stair Diving a Sport Now?

Greetings gang, and welcome to another week of Sean Lowe love on the Bachelor. This week, Sean and the girls remain stuck in LA. Thanks Fleiss. Nice budget you got going on there this season. Dates on Hollywood Boulevard; dates at the local beach; and one crummy date at Six Flags Over Shirtless; bargain basement Bachelor has returned. Despite the fact that the cretin who produces this pap is so tight he squeaks when he walks, good man Sean continues to impress with his cool aplomb, finely honed listening skills, and classy demeanor. I'm certain he is also impressing the female and gay male audience with his serial nudity. For a guy who is as Christian as St. Thomas Aquinas, he's naked more than a porn star. Just another case of the schizo nature of the this show I guess. Well, this week the proceedings begin with Sean jogging naked on a treadmill telling us that he already has feelings for a pile of women. Meanwhile the Wingman has crashed the mansion in his seasons uniform of a blue Oxford and quickly rounded the women up for one of his motivational pow wows: "Not everyone will get a date this week; my advice to you is whenever you get one spare second with Sean, tear any remaining clothing he has on off. If that doesn't work, try hurling yourself down the staircase for additional sympathy. What's a broken neck when compared to not getting a rose?" Harrison then smirks, drops the date card and departs. Selma Vavoom saunters over and reads the date card while Robin Condoleezza Rice decides it time to talk like a black stereotype: "I hope that card says, Robin, let's ditch these bitches and fall in love fo' real, Sean." I hate to say this but....(spoiler) it doesn't. The Vavoomer reads, "Lesley", and drags out the last initial long enough for the other remaining black girl to eat some crow, "M! How long will this love last? Sean." My guess would be until he finds out you're a godless Democratic political operative who wants to take away his guns and make him eat high-carb quiche, but that's just a guess on my part.

Worlds Longest, Forced, Embarrassing Kiss

Before Sean can check her political affiliation, Lesley the Political Operator vamps it up, packs her shit in case the rose is not forthcoming, and acts happier than James Carville at a George W. Bush roast. A quick cutaway and we see they're already in the limo and Sean is dressed down while poor Lesley is way overdressed. Sean makes her play guessing games and it's pretty clear that Lesley is hoping for a plane ride somewhere. No dice. Sean hauls her to the Guinness World Record Museum where Lesley demonstrates that she understands her profession by waxing politic about being hauled to a crappy museum in a rundown section of LA. Despite the crushing disappointment, she smiles through the pain and allows Sean to walk her around the museum and manages not to look on the verge of death with boredom. She goes on about how "normal, natural" it all feels. Translation: This date sucks! But I guess it's better than being stuck in the mansion with a horde of catty, drunk bitches! Finally we see why Sean is happy to be there--his daddy set a world record for the shortest amount of time to travel the contiguous 48 states by car. Well, excuse me. I didn't know Sean was from such a high falutin, overachieving bunch.  Frankly, I would rather have admitted my old man held the world record for World's Longest Continuos Beer Fart. If Sean ever needs his nerd credentials, he can skip the Star Trek convention; this should do it. Amped up at getting himself (and Lesley) into the record books, Sean tells her to follow him outside where a crowd--and the Wingman--await. Turns out Lesley should have asked to borrow Sean's rape whistle he threatened to use two weeks ago on the 50 Shades skank. Seems Harrison and his greasy producer-buddies have decided to put on a public smooching display that the Ancient Romans would have found lacking modesty. Sean and Lesley are supposed to break the record for longest on-screen kiss. Lesley blushes like a strawberry, but it seems that the producers have checked: contractual rape is still legal in the old US of A, so put down that rape whistle, Lesley, it's time to get smacking. With both Sean and Lesley ready to die with embarrassment, the Wingman and the crowd count them down to 3:15 like the ball is about to drop on New Year's Eve. They picked now for everyone to be sober? Whatever. They break the record and Sean joins his dad in the Guinness World Records book. He shouldn't have bothered; he's already there. He's already topped David Hasselhoff for most shirtless scenes on a stupid TV show.
Regardless, now with the stupid crap over with, Sean takes her to the roof of the Roosevelt Hotel for a drink. They compare notes and things go very well...again. Lesley gets to extoll the virtues of her family and she, like Desiree the Derriere, has parents that are still married and madly in love. Sean once again looks besotted. Rose? Another formality. Date over.

The Olympics it Wasn't

How bad was the volleyball match? Let me put it this way, they should have included Circle-Swimmer Sarah; she would have been the star of the match. Sean now takes 12 girls all of five miles from the mansion for a beach date at Zuma. Several highly aggressive bimbos--namely Amanda the Odd and Kristy the Dude--predict they will all but kill anyone in a competitive contest. But before they can trample anyone, Sean tries to soft sell the whole thing: "We'll just have the day to do what we want--play frisbee, whatever." Who else is not buying this? Camouflage Catherine, for one: "We know somethings going on." Well at least we have one contestant who has watched this show before. Despite stripping down to bikinis and baggies, the relaxation is short lived. Popping up from out of the sand, the Wingman suddenly appears like a pervert genie with a pink shirt and announces there will be a spastic volleyball game between two teams of six--winners get "special quality time" with Sean; losers get "special quality time" back at the mansion with mimosas and hang out around the pool like they are on an expensive vacation. I love it when there are no losers. But you'd never tell from the quality of athleticism on display. I know, I know; most of these girls are models or wanna be's. I wasn't expecting olympic quality athleticism, but this was pathetic. It was so universally bad it's simply impossible to pick a least valuable player. Desiree the Derrière probably looked the best; all the others looked the worst. The two teams were Red: Taryn the Dress Filler, Kristy the Dude, Daniella the Drunk, Lesley the Poker Dealer,  Camouflage Catherine, and Tierra Dramatica; and Blue: Cousin Kacie, Lindsay the Bridal Drunk, Jackie the Invisible, Robin Condoleezza Rice, Desiree, and Amanda. Anyway, the game goes on and they flail, miss, hit under the net, and just look completely spastic in general. Somehow all these flailing whiffers manage to play to a bunch of tie scores and I guess Sean was supposed to help...somehow. Harrison meanwhile spent his time ogling the women while they dove and missed one after another. Finally Desiree gets one over the net and Tierra--who will look more athletic later when falling down the stairs-- proceeds to hit it backwards. Nice shot, DramaLand. Anyway, Blue wins so Kristy the Dude starts crying to hide her huge adams apple and prominent bikini bottom bulge. Seeing no point in not helping out, Lesley the Poker Dealer sheds some empathy tears just for kicks. I would comment on the reactions of Camouflage Catherine and Invisible Jackie, but as usual, they had vanished from camera view.

Cousin Kacie Has a Cunning Plan

I just have no idea what it was. I actually went back and watched this over again and I still don't know what she was trying to do. I think the bottom line was: Desiree and Amanda exchanged two mildly unfriendly words with each other so Kacie decides to take action. More on that in a minute. First though, Sean takes the ladies back to "his" place. Hey, no sense in spending any money by renting a restaurant or booking a hotel roof--just pack them off to the rental. Fleiss, your miserliness is becoming legendary. Once Sean gets them home, Lindsay the Bridal Drunk gets a moment alone with him and puts on the hard sell. "Sean, you are wonderful; you are exactly what I've always dreamed of. You, sir, are a fucking god!" or something equally desperate-sounding. Once he sucks her face off, he hauls Desiree and her lovely derrière aside so she can keep on looking like a mix between Katie Holmes and Phoebe Cates. She insists she is "spiritual, emotional, etc," and tries to sell herself as a super optimist...with a great derriere. Sean appears to notice. We get a quick segue back to the mansion where Tierra Dramatica gets to add 'comedian' to her bitch resume by trying to bait Selma and AshLee into thinking that the date card she is reading is for a dreaded 2-on-1. Har had. Anyway AshLee hears "AshLee, did your adoptive daddy really spell your name this stupidly?" or something like that. Anyway, AshLee gets the one-on-one and Tierra keeps on arranging for her crucifixion on the Women Tell All.
Meanwhile, back at Sean's rental digs, various women predict it's rose time. Amanda gets a few moments of Sean's time and she tries to brag and starts out by saying, "If we get married..." whoa there, little lady. Getting a little forward, aren't we? Amanda, who has been edited to look like a kook, seems intent on bringing the edit to life. Once Sean manages to get rid of her, she runs back and brags in front of the jealous Desiree, so Cousin Kacie unleashes her fiendish plan. But first, she gets hammered. And I do mean DRUNK! Her face swollen like she got five bee stings at the beach, Kacie starts to take on the countenance and mental acuity of a 35 year-old barfly. She hauls Sean aside and...I still don't know. All I'm sure of is she tries to stir some shit over the non-existent fight between Amanda and Desiree, and Sean looks at her like she is a drunken loon. ""Why are you getting involved in this?" and "I want you to act like Kacie, not this crazy person." Ah, the old boomerang plan--throw it and then stand there wobbling drunkenly while it comes back and takes your head off. She's a show veteran? Terrible. The tattletale always dies a horrible death. And just to grind some salt into her wound (as well as Desiree's and Amanda's) Sean gives the rose, and a desperation gold medal, to Lindsay for kissing his ass the most thoroughly. Date over.

Six Flags Over 4's a Crowd

Man did AshLee the Misspelled love this. That poor woman just got the most gypped 1-on-1 date I may have ever seen. Don't get me wrong, I loved seeing the little gals get their "date". AshLee though? Uh, not so much. First she gets rooked when Tierra Dramatica hears the producers announce that Sean is coming up the walkway and launches herself "falls" down the stairs. Right. She tumbled down a marble staircase and got zero injuries. Uh-huh. Just a little headache that is instantly cured by Sean paying attention to her. Dude, you may be the Magic Christian, but you are sooooo thinking with your dick. This gal is what we used to call "third date crazy." It takes until the third date until you realize she's a psycho. Anyway, Fleiss calls in paramedics to try and strap the "injured' Tierra to a stretcher and after acting all concussed for who knows how long, she refuses all medical care and pops up like the faker she is. Sean takes her out back and they coo and cuddle while the completely overdressed AshLee starts to fume. Finally Sean leaves Tierra's side and takes AshLee for a ride in an open-topped Jeep. Ah, the fun begins. Not even the four pounds of hairspray she has on can save AshLee's hair and it blows all over hell. Sean, dressed like a beach bum, and AshLee, dressed like she's expecting a trip to a cotillion, end up at Six Flags Magic Mountain. AshLee then gets another lovely surprise to find out that two young gals who suffer from a mitochondrial disease will get to meet each other for the first time care of the Starlight foundation and Mike Fleiss. AshLee tries to smile through her grimace. Sean grins happily and the two little gals show up and crash their date. AshLee plays good sport but this had to suck! I know, I know; it was cool. But as a date? I don't blame AshLee for looking a little grim. Regardless, the two girls who have a congenital disease don't mope, they don't bitch, they don't cry and fake toss themselves down the stairs--they just go and have a damn good time. Sean and AshLee are mere afterthoughts, and good for the little girls. Considering what a shit sandwich life has served both of them, the contrast to how women usually act on this show was illuminating. I was hoping Sean would give them the rose. Anyway, once the girls make scarce, Sean and AshLee get a few moments alone and she has a major hardship story of her own to sell. Turns out she spent her youth in foster homes and was adopted at six. Her tale is sincere and tough and Sean is clearly affected. He bawls when hearing how her dad charmed her when they met and is spared the pussy buzzer because it was a real moment. Then the Eli Young band comes out and moans and groans some country music, and they dance. She has a great story, but are these two a big thing? I didn't see it, but the rose is a guarantee. Date over.

Cocktail Time

Sean comes into the party and promptly snatches the dateless Circle-Swimmer Sarah outside to meet her dog, which arrives in a limo. Well that explains the non-existent budget. Fleiss spent all of the money flying a dog around the country and renting it limos. How funny is this? In a mere few moments, Sean will dump Cousin Kacie and she gets hauled away in a cargo van. Sorry Kacie; Leo the dog has the limo. After that? Not much. The women go crazy stealing Sean away from one another, but unfortunately, Circle Swimmer Sarah doesn't take part and robs me of the chance to call her a "one-armed bandit!" Damn you, Sarah. Anyway, nothing happens. The invisible girls remain invisible and the visible ones hog the air time and commit Sean theft. Sparing a few moments from curating his pic collection from the beach, Harrison enters tinging cheese knife and wine glass.

Safe: AshLee the Misspelled; Lindsay the Bridal Drunk; Lesley the Political Operator.

Harrison lines them up and Sean comes in only to stall. He hauls Cousin Kacie, who has chosen to appear at the party dressed in a Day-Glo wetsuit cut like a miniskirt (WTF?) to dump her privately. Sean keeps it short and basically tells her to get lost. Kacie is out loaded into a cargo van and is driven away, her boomerang strategy performed to perfection. On the highway, Leo the dog, his limo loaded with bitches in heat, stops lapping at his bowl of champagne and shoots her a bird with his middle paw.

Sean returns and gets down to it.

1) Tierra Dramatica--hahahahaha.

2) Lesley the Poker Dealer--For the first time, Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a black dress filler.

3) Camouflage Catherine--becomes visible long enough to collect the flower then fades back into obscurity.

4) Daniella the Drunk--Stagger on up there and get your flower, killer.

5) Robin Condi Rice--didn't bother with any street sister shit talk; we still remember you're black. You can relax.

6) Selma Vavoom--previews hint at additional national television exposure next week.

7) Circle-Swimmer Sarah--Her dog is living the high life.

8) Invisible Jackie--Ditto Catherine

9) Amanda the Odd--Ok.

10) Desiree the Derriere--considering she was shown clearly holding a rose when Selma returned with hers, I think we can conclude that she wasn't last.

Dumped: Taryn the Dress Filer--bawls.
and
Kristy the Dude--whips it out and takes a leak in the rose bushes before bawling about what a trainwreck her life is.

Next week: LA, on the cheap; what else? See ya then!

Sean Week 2--Finding The Villain

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Sean Week 1--The Ghost of Arie Luyendyk

Greetings and welcome back, my friends. It's time for our annual cheesefest known as the Bachelor. This season, executive producer/ human ratbag, Mike Fleiss, has reached back into the heart of Texas (again) to produce his latest broken-hearted lothario--aryan genetic marvel, Sean Lowe--who could make Taylor Lautner blush with pectoral envy. Sean, who was unceremoniously dumped by Emily Maynard last season, is by most tales, a nice guy, but I see he has that odd Texas malady shared by both Brad Womack and Jake Cheesemachine Pavelka: he keeps losing his shirts. Are they all in the dryer with my missing socks? Do men from Texas wear shirts? I could swear I saw George W. Bush in one every now and then. No matter. After the unmitigated disaster that was Ben Flajnik, Fleiss has gone back to that cheese-filled well he must have bought in Texas, and yanked Sean out and means to keep him half-naked at every turn. When in doubt, go blonde and ripped. I like Sean, but he looks like Fleiss found him on Heinrich Himmler's Amazon Wish List. Well if ya got it, ya might as well flaunt it, I guess. Sean might turn out to be as dull as kindergarten scissors, but the Beefcake WILL be shown! Hey, when do I get to see a Bachelorette nude from the waste up? Listen to me whine. I'm sure my mostly female readership could care less about my definition of a double standard. After all, in a minute I'm going to get to see some drunk gal demand to get tied up with a necktie and spanked until she passes out. 50 Shades of Class. Let's recap.

One European Horndog, Comin' Up!

I settled into the Captain's Chair with some liquid refreshment expecting to hear (and see) Chris Wingman Harrison come out in front of the mansion and start screaming some scripted boilerplate at me about what a wonderful, sincere guy Sean is, when suddenly it's Sean doing his own intro. That was weird. The guy's doing his own spec sheet. It sounded like he was at a group meeting, "Hi, I'm Sean Lowe and I'm an alcoholic!" Where the hell is Harrison? Week 1 and he's already skivved off, eh? Turns out it's more than just Harrison's usual laziness at work though; once Sean is done showering, jogging, working out, cooking, mowing the grass, playing chess, and strumming a ukelele at an old folks home with his shirt off, we hear that an old "friend" is coming for a visit. That "friend" turns out to be none other than fellow Emily Maynard castoff, Racecar Arie Luyendyk. I watched last season and I never remember Sean and Arie standing within 20 feet of one another except at rose ceremonies. Now I'm supposed to believe that a down home Christian boy is best buds with some European skirt chaser who's nailing Ben Flajnik's ex-witch? Yeah, ok, I'll believe it. Anyway, Sean goes to answer the door at his rental digs and in stumbles Arie still wearing one of his Garanimals shirts from last season. Arie drags himself inside and proceeds to put on a horn dog clinic for the allegedly innocent Sean. Truthfully the whole thing was funny as hell. Both guys took this with the same seriousness as Arie does his relationship with Courtney Robertson. Arie mocked his own ballyhooed kissing skills by demonstrating how to properly mug a woman by using your hairy mitts on her face before you ram your tongue down her esophagus. The only bad news was a reminder to the audience about just how much charisma Arie has when compared to Sean. Arie's fans must have felt smug and self-righteous. But it just put a ghost in the back of my mind that followed me around the rest of the night: WWAD--What Would Arie Do? Every time some gal went nuts, Sean laid back and took it all with cool aplomb and I just couldn't help seeing the same event replayed with Arie at the wheel. WWAD? Uh-oh.

The Women

Once Sean dismissed Arie so he could head to the free clinic for his monthly chlamydia test, Harrison finally pops out in front of the mansion and opens fire on me with that hyperbole cannon of his. I squint my eyes and imagine he sounds like Charlie Brown's old teacher "Whannt whaant, whaant whaant whaant!" He made as much sense as usual that way. Since Arie has already done the opening for him, Harrison eschews the normal Bachelor interview and cues a promo of the women. Hmmm. Less nuts in a can of Planters than this group, but we'll get to it. Promos complete, a very long limo pulls up and out steps Sean looking like he drove himself there in the standard Night 1 Bachelor Limo Driver Uniform: Black suit, white Oxford, and black tie. Harrison takes only a second to cheese him up before the limos roll up.

Now, an important caveat: Sean started handed out roses so fast, the entire broadcast not only became a chase for  "who has the rose?", it actualy devolved into chaos. The girls weren't really showcased much--it was all about roses. It got so chaotic, I'm not even sure which women got dumped and who stayed. I'll do my best.

1) Ashlee F.--Personal Organizer. Some OCD chick who's is just dying to reorganize Sean's man cave. Nice looking girl here and a great dress. I think this one will be around a while.

2) Jackie--smacks him on the cheek with a blob of lipstick so the next one will have something to wipe off. Other than that? Well, she was beautiful anyway.

3) Selma--vavoom! Selma? I wonder if her last name is Hayek? Outrageous boobs! Yummy. Almost certain to get villain editing.

4) Leslie H. The first of several black gals Fleiss stuck into the cast. Not bad looking with a healthy helping of junk in her trunk. She looked fine until she smiled and then whoa! that was one wide mouth. Dubbed Sean Mr. McSteamy. So much for being original. Survived night 1. We'll see.

5) Daniella--hot blonde with a some dumb handshake bit. That was her intro? I was waiting for her to head butt him before she went inside.

6) Kelly--Cruise ship songstress who both looked and acted like it. Had different colored eyes and a bowling trophy spray tan so deep she looked like a pumpkin. Then she sang a dumb song. See ya!

7) Katie--yoga instructor. Shows him some yoga and then pretty much vanished like one of his shirts. Didn't bother to wear shoes either. Maybe she was from Arkansas.

8) Ashley P. Oh boy. Walking hotmess from the promos who grins before yanking a tie out from between her tits and dangling it in front of Sean's eyes and letting him know that she reads crappy books. Sean stares at the tie like it's a live cobra and finally seems to get the Fifty Shades reference and swallows uncomfortably.
(WWAD? Harrison leaps from behind the bushes and pounces on top of Arie like a ninja superhero and tries vainly to pull him off the girl. By the time Harrison arrives, Arie has her hogtied and naked from the waist up.)

9) Taryn--Uh, uncomfortable, insecure woman dumped.

10) Catherine--Va-VOOM! Wow! Beautiful gal who joined Katie and my missing sock in Sean's vanishing shirt cabinet. What? Oh, c'mon! We never saw this one the rest of the night. Shit.

11) Robyn--Hey, who invited Condoleezza Rice? The former secretary of state tried to show Sean how excited she was to meet him by nearly breaking her neck in the driveway. Smooth.

12) Lacey--gives him a lacy heart. He carried it around and then dumped it into the trash when he dumped her.

13) Paige--the only sane member of Bachelor Pad 3 came on this show to demonstrate that she is obviously losing her sanity. Dumped--no rose here either. You walked from Minnesota to California for this? Sell that desperation, girl. I don't know whether to feel sorry for her or laugh.

14) Tierra--oh my. This one got out of the limo, showed Sean a half-heart tattoo on her finger and giggled. He immediately wandered off to get Harrison's head out of the punch bowl and "broke some rules" by grabbing an instant rose. Heh. Yeah, he blindsided the producers, I'm sure. Anyway, I saw the season previews. This gal is going to be a nutcase-bitch. The name sounded familiar so I looked it up--Tierra means Land in Spanish. Well that's not going to work. Try dramatica. Yeah, that's more like it--Tierra Dramatica--DramaLand! That's your name woman.

15) Amanda--fit model who did an awkward moment thing? Huh? Lame. Good looking though.

16) Keriann--she drove 2,275 miles to get here? She could have at least picked poor Paige up on the way. Well, maybe she can give her a ride back to Minnesota anyway since they both got dumped.

17) Desiree (Dez) Yum, yum. Great entrance too. She joined Sean to toss coins into the mansion's Trevi Fountain and make a wish. Good intro plus pretty girl should equal a long stay. We'll see. I like this one. Works in a bridal salon or something.

18) Sarah--Good looking blonde with one arm. Later she speaks with Sean and pretty much hints life has been hell. I'm sure. Sean shrugs, he could care less about the missing wing. I wouldn't have either. He gave her a rose. I would have too, but since she wants to be treated like everyone else, I'm also going to make fun of her.The whole time she was sitting with Sean I just kept wondering how she avoids swimming only in circles, but whatever. She was pretty--seems nice--yeah, the rose was a no-brainer. Circle-swimmer Sarah.

19) Brooke--sultry black girl. Yummy, not bad. Since Fleiss is bowing to pressure and filling the cast with minorities and disabled folks, it's just as well they be pretty.

20) Diana--mom of two--I liked her but she's too damn old for Sean.

21) Lesley M. Saw in the promos she was a political consultant from D.C. Considering she made a point about her environmental activism, I'm guessing she's a Democrat, and I'm guessing Sean is…not. She brought a football and conned Sean into bending over so she could check out his ass.
(WWAD? Easy; when she kept barking signals without calling for the ball, he would have urged her closer and then fired a retro blast at her to show her what a card he is too. BRAAAAP!)

22) Kristy--model who made a point in the promo to tell us that the other girls would all be jealous of her. Blech.

23) Ashley H.--Best intro line of the night. Walked up and told Sean, "Hi Ken, I'm Barbie." That should have earned her a rose.

24) Lauren--Italian girl who goes all Sopranos on Seanie and assures him that if he hurts her, her dad will break his legs. I'm amazed this didn't win him over. Sean played it safe and dumped her. Whoops!

25) Lindsay--wedding dress? Jesus. Then lip mugs him before she even tells him her name. Cuckoo. Then to charm him, she got shit-faced. She got a rose? Really?

26) ???? Holy crap, it's Kacie B. At first I thought this was weird, then I realized that since a nice Christian boy is stroke' the pony with a lowlife like Fleiss, nothing can be considered weird this season anyway. Why not? C'mon Kacie. Got a rose too. Cool.

Ok, what happened next? Sean handed out roses right and left and I lost track of what was going on. Other than girls talking about what was going on with the roses, virtually nothing happened. Over half the girls who got early roses, well, we didn't even see it happen. A couple got drunk and the 50 Shades of Grey ho got smashed and acted so skanky her grandchildren will never live it down.

Roses????

How the hell would I know? Some got them, others got dumped. (Shrug). Maybe we can tell them apart next week.

I'll see ya then.

The Captain's Off-Season Wrap- Up

Welcome back, my friends. As always, your Captain is humbled by your readership of his silliness and raring to go for yet another over-the-top cheesefest that is heading our way shortly. While I polish my snark sword and load my snark cannons in anticipation of the approaching Bachelor season, it's time to publish a recap of the hijinks and insanity that has occurred in the off-season. So, keep trying to floss that turkey out of your teeth and staring morbidly at the bathroom scale as I go over what has transpired since last we spoke. And there is a ton.

But first, you may have noticed that the Blast still flies the off-season masthead--no Sean Lowe anywhere in sight. It seems the Blasts resident artist, Dee Dreamer, has gone AWOL. Since she has vanished, we'll have to stick to the standard Jolly Roger. I wouldn't worry though, my guess is that we won't be hurting for shirtless Sean Lowe pictures.

Speaking of...

Sean Lowe is the next Bachelor.
Not what you'd call a big surprise. Regular readers of the Blast saw months ago the Sean had bitten whatever bullet he possesses and agreed to the slave-terms offered by world class dirtbag, Mike Fleiss, and agreed to become my next verbal punching bag. How will it go? No idea. Sean is not your bargain basement filler we've had of late, but god only knows why he's doing this. The head shots of the women have already been released ( along with a few promos) and naturally, spoilers already abound. But as always, who knows what is correct. But my readers can relax, the Captain doesn't do spoilers. My other readers can relax too: the Captain never plays favorites either. As much as I like Sean (at the moment anyway) he signed up, and that means he's fair game. See ya in early January, Genetic Marvel.

First, the triumphs

Jason and Molly Mesnick.

Two good eggs I gave unremitting hell to when they got together and then later had to apologize to, happily announced they are expecting their first child together. Congrats, kids! Now Jason's son--who has haunted my nightmares since Deanna's season--will have a little brother or sister to torment. Good for all involved and my best wishes.










Mr. and Dr. Mrs. J.P. Rosenbaum.

The second non-surprise. While I'm normally hesitant to make predictions, this one wasn't too hard. A couple with Real Jobs who returned to normal life and barely waved at Hollywood made it to the altar. True, I found Ashley unbearably boring as the Bachelorette, but said at the time I understood why: she found her guy. While most on this show go on horndog tears, even when the have the one they want picked out (I'm looking at you, Womack!) Ashley politely declined. She stayed sober, out of hot tubs, and together with the guy she wanted. I know,I know; it's unbelievable. She did it! They did it! And good for them.

Maybe they need to cast more Jews?

Now for the Rest

Vino Ben Flajnik and Queen Courtney Robertson

Well they beat my expectations. I gave them three months; they made nine. Courtney, however, had barely parachuted out of Ben's treehouse when she landed in the arms of Racecar Arie Luyendijk, jr.

Why am I not even a little bit surprised?

So, no worries for them. To my knowledge they're both saying its "non-exclusive" so, hey, no biggie. Just two attractive horndogs going at it like fornicating 14 year-olds. Let em alone, kids, they're not worth the effort.









And finally...

Emily Maynard and One-F-Jef Holm.

My, that was quick. By my count that lasted three whole months from the airing of the finale. But still, people are obsessed with them. There are daily "Jef sightings" on some boards while others have been known to light candles at church praying they get back together? Huh? Anyway, I don't do predictions much, and I've never caught more hell than I did for my write-up of their finale since I pretty much called Jef a hairless chihuahua with a bouffant, but are you kidding me? This relationship was belching smoke even before the official break up--Emily was charged with sexting NFL quarterbacks without a license or something, and Jef was being accused of trying to meet up at hotels with his ex. No matter. People have engaged in some of the nastiest online fights I've ever seen over these two. Really? You lost friends over this? Seems a bit odd when the fans seem to care more than the couple does. A three month engagement? How serious we're they from the beginning?

You lost a friend over this? What the hell is wrong with you people? Hello?

Ok folks, there you have it. Oh yeah, Tony and Blakely lasted a month or so. Bully. More exciting was the broadcast of The Bachelor Canada. If you what to see what the Bachelor was supposed to look like, go check it out. Brad and Bianka, good for both of you.

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Emily Finale: Jems and Tinfoilers

Folks, that was a rather incredible day from start to finish. Up until the last ten days I had avoided spoilers and getting caught up in this season--just peeking onto the general areas of the message boards to post my blog link before jogging away. But yesterday, with some medical tests looming that I'd just as soon forget about, I spent Sunday lying around like a lump and dove into the fandom head first to distract myself. Lurking the boards I discovered that the spoilers I had heard whispers of all season were definitely out there, but were fuzzy. I quickly looked at the sleuthing records and hints being tossed out by the Holm family and quickly concluded that all signs pointed toward the coronation of Single-F-Jef as the winner of Emily's whatever. I also quickly deduced that two powerful, opinionated, rage-filled camps had formed (as usual): Team Jem (Jef and Emily), and a load of stalwarts who considered the spoilers and the tweets from the Holm family to be yet another clever producer-inspired disinformation campaign, and had sportingly named themselves Team Tinfoil Hats--Racecar Arie's people. When I started the observations it was early morning and there was excitement abounding--people fighting sleep, counting down to the live finale, expectantly predicting victory for their Team. But during the day, a few hyperbolic tweets from Harrison and the producers had tipped the entire fandom over the edge. By 6 PM, I found myself surrounded by people in tinfoil hats (regardless of their Team), running naked through the corridors and screaming. They're getting married tonight! Emily is pregnant! Chris Harrison will officiate the wedding! etc, etc. etc. Since I had zero emotional investment in the outcome of the season, it was like being the only sober person at a huge party full of drunks. By the time the broadcast started, I felt like I needed a tinfoil hat. But before I don my shiny chapeau to keep Chris Harrison out of my mind, I'd better recap.

Willemstad, Curacao

The Wingman gets the festivities started live in front of a studio audience and quickly rolls the tape. We're back in Curacao, where Emily wanders around her private villa with Little Ricki telling us she is in love with both men but she's uncertain whether to introduce either of them to Ricki. Huh? You're gonna get engaged to some guy but you aren't ready for him to meet your daughter? Yeah, sure. Anyway, Emily and Ricki frolic in the pool before she heads over to meet her family, whom after skipping Brad's disaster season, have consented to take a free trip to Curacao to provide Emily with zero help and some advice she's gonna ignore. 

…His Boy Elroy…

First up is One-F-Jef, who comes strolling up in a white t-shirt, skinny jeans, and his pompadour piled high. Emily greets him looking ten years older than her boyfriend and she leads him inside to meet the family. Jef meets Emily's mother, Susie, her father, David, and her brother, Ernie. Ernie? Anyway, Jef turns on his masterful charm and slathers these folks with buckets of BS. Mom takes Jef aside and shows her 3-pack-a-day voice and an immobile, botox-filled face as she quizzes Jef and naturally, The Master has every answer. Mom lets Jef know that he will need to sleep on the floor by the bed so Ricki can stay in bed with momma. Jef, who's seen less action than a convent nun, nods happily. Now it's big brother Ernie's turn to quiz the hipster. Ernie sits him down and starts growling out some big brother threats from the very corner of his sagging mouth. I stare at Ernie and wonder how god managed to insert all the wonderful genes into one sibling and rendered the other so bereft. Once Ernie started speaking, I was waiting for him to growl for an order of "mustard and french fried taters." Ernie hammers Jef with his Sling blade impersonation, but the Master is undaunted. Slapping every mumbled question back at Ern, Jef dances away nimbly and within moments Ern is ready to hug it out with the hipster. Clearing the big brother hurdle, Jef is next corralled by Pops David, who appeared to have spent the last sixty years stooped over in a West Virginia coal mine. Pops limps over to a couch and sits Jef down to get some smoothness from the Master. Pops sits there like a statue for a few minutes, before he gives Jef his permission to ask for Emily's hand. Emily walks Boy Elroy out and gives him a few tepid, no body contact pecks and sends him on his way with his lunch money.

The Tinfoilers Last Stand

When we return from commercial, Harrison and the audience are back to remind us that this all live, before they roll the tape again. It's Racecar Arie's turn, and Team Tinfoil stands and cheers for their man, but pops has some saltpeter to toss on that particular erection: "I'm not sure why we're even going through the actions of seeing another guy." Yikes! Pops has fallen under the spell of the Master. But worry not, Dear Readers, the standard Meet-The-Parents-Template is back in play this year--the tinfoilers sense that the family will leave the Bachelorette "more confused than ever", and will be zero help at all, and they are right. Arie sits down with the family and babbles but quickly puts the family under his spell too. He breaks the ice by saying he was super skeptical and knew nothing about the show except he used to date one of its producers or something. Arie then hands out a box filled with the roses Emily gave him and mom makes her move and explains why the whole family skipped meeting Brad--"No einey meenie-minie-mo--like you're going through--if you want to marry my daughter." Arie turns on the charm and quickly has mom looking Cougar. Compared to Boy Elroy, Arie looks like a man, and mom's hormones quickly override her previous judgment. Now she is safely no help to Emily. Soon, brother Ernie sits Arie down and he too melts under Arie's powerful European pheromones. Dad falls next like a nine pin as Arie sweeps the field. They never showed Ernie's girlfriend speak with him, but I expect she had removed half her clothes by the time he had smiled at her, so they edited that out. Anyway, Arie takes Emily outside and thoroughly tongues her, and walks away with swaggering confidence. The trap is laid. Emily returns for her advice session and tries to BS pops that she loves both men and he nearly cracks up in her face. "You can love them both, but not really be in love with more than one." Mom sees her indecision and advises "I strongly urge you to wait on any kind of engagement until you see how they interact with Ricki." Fat chance on that. Emily BS's us that she might just do a runner. Fleiss quickly orders Harrison and his quick reaction team to don their ballistic gear and butterfly nets in case she tries to escape. Parents (and Sling blade Ernie): over.

Sure, I'll Marry You…But You Can't Meet My Daughter.

Emily's Default Pose for the Evening

Returning from commercial, Harrison has popped back up and is interviewing and baiting the audience. I assume both the Jems and Tinfoilers were screaming aloud at this point to get on with it. Harrison finally stops cheesing and rolls the tape. We are greeted by a vacillating Emily as she prepares for her date with The Master. They greet each other wandering down the beach and have a quick sit down. Jef pretty much lets her know all the pieces are in place…except meeting Ricki. Emily tries to BS us, and Boy Elroy, one last time that while an engagement might be in the cards, meeting Ricki is not. The Master turns the tables on her brilliantly. "Put yourself in my place…you've found this person who gets you--who completes you--but you haven't met this person's daughter; what would you think?"
Emily mumbles, "I'd think it was weird."
Duh. She now takes Jef to meet Ricki like she always intended to. They now head over to meet Ricki and Emily now hits us with with one, final, cryptic warning of either insanity or unalloyed crap. "If this meeting doesn't go well, it would be the end of my relationship with him, no question." Personally folks, I don't trust a six year old to chose what they want for breakfast, let alone chose my spouse for me. This thing is really built on a foundation of granite, isn't it? But that doesn't matter, because when we return from commercial, Emily takes Jef in to meet Ricki and I see the Master has dark jedi mind powers over children too. Nah, Ricki, who is adorable, is delighted to have another playmate about her age and within seconds they are swimming together in the pool and all is wonderful. Kiddie test complete, Emily shoos Jef away to dress for dinner. He joins her in her suite and whips out a book he got for her, complete with annotated drawings of their "journey" that looked like Little Ricki drew them. Emily is charmed and she sends him away before his curfew expires.

"Evil Barbie"

The Tinfoilers Peg Emily

Harrison is back on stage to bait the audience one last time before the hammer falls and he rolls the tape, queuing himself up as the Master of all relationship advice. We see Emily is no longer vacillating, no longer confused, after sleeping she now has confidence that One-F-Jef is her boy, er man. Harrison drops his web gear, ballistic helmet, and butterfly net and comes striding into her place in a blue linen shirt and they have a sit down. Emily says she is through, Boy Elroy is her guy and she wants things halted. Harrison nods, flashes a thumbs up to the control truck ("Got her!"), and orders her to go and pulverize Arie. We switch to see that Arie has already arrived at their date site and is busy smiling while some islander witch, who popped out of nowhere, is mixing up a Love Potion I think she was going to use on him. Anyway, despite the fact he won't be humiliated by being allowed to get down on one knee, he gets his chance here and more for later. Emily pulls up and stands there like a moron while Arie rubs some love potion on her forearm before he senses something is very wrong. They sit down and she tries to talk and bursts into tears. Arie stares at her like she hit him in the head with a brick. She dumps him…sorta…maybe. The whole thing was pretty cloudy. He got the message well enough to wish her luck and get up and storm off. She chases him down but won't admit she loves Jef more than him and he finally just wishes her luck and angrily hops into the SUV and is carted away. He looks very hurt and totally blindsided but holds it together on the way to the airport. I hit the pause on the remote over the screaming of my wife and make a quick check of the message threads to watch for the reaction. The Tinfoilers explode! Emily is an "evil barbie; a goldigger who landed the kid with the trust fund," etc. They predict she will be pregnant within a day to lock up her claim on that trust fund. I hit play before my wife can kill me as Arie is carted away in a cloud of confusion and uncertainty. We see the audience sitting in silence while Harrison gravely informs us that we will return shortly and I'm powerfully reminded of Killian in the original Running Man.

Harrison Prepares Arie for Disaster

Harrison is back to interview some blasts from the past--J.P. and Ashley, DeAnna Stagliano (nee Pappas) and her brother-in-law, chronic franchise hanger-on, Breakdancing Michael Stagliano--to try and mitigate the predicted Tinfoiler hate flowing at Emily like rattlesnake venom. Fat chance. Once Killian Harrison is done mitigating damage and promoting Bachelor Pad 3, we return to see One-F-Jef go ring shopping. Boy Elroy comes riding in on his Jetson hoverboard like Marty Mcfly and visits Neil Lane's Traveling Hot Dog and Engagement Ring Stand. He quickly picks out a rock the size of Fred Flintstones bowling ball that Emily must have picked out before the season, and heads out.

The Final Rose...in Tijuana?

They held the Final Rose Ceremony in a slum? WTF was that about? After dressing, Emily heads to a Caribbean-colored stage positioned in a high crime slum. Harrison leads her in and then stands around fidgeting nervously while the palooka stagehand is ordered to watch out for drug dealers. One-F-Jef comes in dressed in his suit while Emily voice overs us that she might not accept a proposal. Harrison grabs Jef and hauls him into the slum square, his eyes nervously scanning for criminals, and cuts him loose. Jef walks in with utter confidence and starts yanking more verbal E-cards out his ass. It's yet another masterful, nearly poetic performance of unalloyed bullshit. The Master has the deft touch. He finally sinks to a knee, presents the rock, and pops one out. Emily waits and dithers and finally accepts. They trade some more lip pecks but continue to ensure enough daylight between them to satisfy a middle school dance chaperon. Little Ricki comes running into the slum and Emily reaches down to get her and the new happy family walks away hand in hand. I was waiting for Emily to tell her, "Uh, Ricki-Monkey, you remember when I told you about my friend Jeff here…well he's your new daddy now! Whaddya think of that?" but she doesn't. They walk away while the audience and my wife cheer.

After The Final Rose

I'll keep it short. Arie was brought out to admit he never knew if Emily was with Jef or had pulled a Womack and dumped them both, so he flew cross country to see her and get some closure. He left a journal on her doorstep (which she says she never read) and apparently couldn't close anything out. Finally, Jef actually called him and told him to keep hands off, and that finally ended it. She hands Arie the journal back and he finally goes away while his Tinfoilers cry a mighty river and curse Emily into the depths of hell for scarring one of the greatest human beings who's ever lived and vow never to watch this show again…until next season. Boy Elroy comes out, they see their engagement again, trade a few tepid pecks, and vow the beginning of a new family. The Jems explode in orgiastic joy and swear Romeo and Juliet have got nuthin' on these two lovebirds. Before they can finish expressing their undying love and Ashley can finish shouing at J.P. that they need to beat them to the altar, Harrison is already shouting at us to wash this romantic blech out of our hair and get ready for some Bachelor Pad sleaze, starting tommorow!

Pirate Conclusion: Same as most always; the odds are against them like every couple on this show. Whether the Jems or the Tinfoilers have the true read of their respective peoples, I neither know nor could know. But like always I release them out into the world and promise to leave them alone. I plan on sorta watching, but probably not blogging about, Bachelor Pad this year. But we'll see.
Until (presumably) Sean takes up the Bachelor mantle this fall, I'll see ya then!

Breaking: Source: Sean Lowe is the New Bachelor

Feast Your Eyes Ladies

 

A trusted source--one that speaks rarely--but always speaks factually, is confirming that Sean Lowe will be the next Bachelor this fall. That Fliess and his criminal gang would ask is no surprise, but I'm rather surprised that Genetic Marvel has accepted. Only a few days ago on the Kidd Kraddock radio show, Sean said he had not even been asked.Apparently, the reaction of the fandom and the crowd at The Men Tell All were enough to seal the deal.

So a decent guy has been pegged for the role. The questions are will he lose his decency to the Fleissmonster? Will he be so decent that he is a bore as the Bachelor? Only time will tell. But it looks like Sean will be getting the chance to lose his soul to Mike Fleiss anyway.

Emily's finale is tomorrow night. As always, the pirate will be there to Blast it.

 

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Emily Week 10--The Men Put Me To Sleep

Folks, this is what we get when we have a relatively drama-free season and the douchebag quota is low--The Men Tell All falls from its lofty perch of cheap entertainment and becomes a cheap sleep aid instead. Was there ever any doubt we were going to get both barrels of Overrated Ryan and Kay-Lynn? Nope. And was anyone surprised that most of the show was a highlight reel for the guys who've been chosen to be on Bachelor Pad 3? Nah. Been a rough day here on the pirate ship, so let's keep this as short as One-F-Jef.

Color By Numbers
Harrison, once he finishes smarming the captive studio audience of well-trained seals, shows a clip of him interviewing Emily. They reveal little of interest or anything we don't already know--Ryan is in love with himself; Dug is frightened of women; Kay-Lynn is frightened of going back to anonymity; and Bobble Head Chris is wound so tight he might just burst like a cheap watch spring. Big deal.

The Lukewarm Seat

Naturally this starred the season's two largest douches, Kay-Lynn and Overrated Ryan. But once I saw the clips of Bachelor Pad 3--which appears to be going from merely sleazy to execrable--I realized that the biggest star of the night was Bobble Head Chris. He spent what seemed like an hour in the lukewarm seat seething with a violent temper and whining about love, while the Bachelor Pad highlights showed us that his search for love now consists of bagging as many women as possible. The only surprise was that Ryan apparently passed on the Bachelor Pad offer that was certainly extended to him. But he's such a weirdo, god only knows what that's about. To try and inject some redeeming nature to the show before Emily comes out, Genetic Marvel Sean joins the Wingman so he can actually show us what a decent dude looks like. The women in the audience nearly herniated themselves cheering for him but I noticed Harrison never asked the magic, "Would you be the Bachelor?" question. Probably a pretty strong hint that Roberto is already signed, sealed, and delivered.

Emily Comes Out

She was there to replay the Kay-Lynn argument over Ricki as baggage and she savages him once again. The audience gasps and cheers as she schools his rude ass again. Hardly matters; he got what he wanted--more face time. One gets the impression that Kalon would allow himself to be crucified on national television for attention. Actually it's quite a shame they didn't do that. Anyway, Sean and Emily talk and she never answers his question about why she dumped him. Sean, shrugging, seems cool with it now and keeps it as classy as usual. He thanks her for breaking his heart and showing him what divorce would feel like or something like that.

Bloopers
This was funny? Potted palms and tents they're eating under tipping over? C'mon, Harrison--work on it!

Bachelor Pad 3

Wow. Just wow. Jillian Harris' cheatin' former fiance, Drop Dead Ed is after Pig Snout Jacklyn? Lindzi the Misspelled and Kay-Lynn? What would Harry Cox think? Somewhere in a dumpster, a rat just puked.

What we didn't see
A lot. An entire pantload as a matter of fact. No highlights of the Final Rose Ceremony; no Neil Lane--nada. What that means? Simple. The Wingman spent every other sentence setting up the finales move to Sunday followed by a one hour After the Final Rose--Live! That's one way to keep the ending quiet.

Ok folks. Next up--Curacao again. See ya then.