As I wallow in my tears, I begin the blog. Sniff...
This evening, the love of my life was lost, the gayest of the gay is gone, and four doofs remain. Okay, fine, I like one of them. But still.
This evening consisted of three dates. The boys were forced to write love notes. The best note won the first date--and the best note was written by Ryan.
As the winner of one-on-one date number one, Ryan picked Jen up at her faboo loft. The two love birds (more appropriately named the "awkward-I-think-I-like you birds") spent the day riding on firetrucks and eating cheap chinese. Basically they spent the day in the life of any Staten Island fireman. But sadly the firemen with whom they spent their day were not the firemen that grace my wall in the NYFD 2005 wall calendar. The guys in the calendar are wayyyyyy cuter. What happened on this date? In short, nothing. In tall, they were nervous and slightly awkward together. And Ryan's hot-tubbing body was not as hot as we all had hoped.
Date two went to the second best letter. Jerry, the doorman turned doorman, wrote this love-filled soliloquy lovely orated by faggy Fabrice. Jerry's hope that this would be the "last first date I ever have" seemed rather successful. The two went on a romantic date to Jazz at Lincoln Center where the personality-free Jerry put on all the moves amidst an original soundtrack by some kickass jazz artists. But, I hope we all noticed the preparations for the day in which Fabrice dressed Jerry both figuratively and literally. Fabrice's wandering eyes (to Jerry's c*ck and b*lls) were noticeable to more than the cameras thankyouverymuch, and were the highlight of my night. During the hot live music, Jerry put on all the moves, Jen received them well in a giddy fashion, and they kissed and humped a little bit. He stroked her hair, she stroked his wenis, and it was good times for all.
The third date was a bit less personal, but much more action-packed. J.P., Wendell, Ben and Fabrice went to Little Italy to make pizza and to make a little love. While Ben's chest hair (which was visible through his hot button down) was the highlight of MY night, the race was most likely more exciting for the audience at large. The race to the ESB (Empire State Building) was a hard-fought battle that was ultimately won by Wendell. Yes, we were excited. The two have undeniable chemistry. Wendell is goofy and charming, Jen likes him, but is the chemistry that of friends or lovers? Stay tuned. We have yet to scientifically judge this. Ben and J.P. lost, and Fabrice went home to surf gay.com for a late-night hookup without even trying to win Jen's love.
With the three dates over, we were left on the edge of our seats anxiously awaiting Fabrice's national coming out moment. Yeah...er...
Basically Ben said the nicest words Jen had ever heard. Personally, I was moved in more ways than one by his romantic gestures (which seemed rehearsed but cute). Jen apparently felt otherwise, and I have decided to be in a tiff with her because of this.
Pre-rose-ceremony, Fabrice had his big moment. In gayspeak, Fabrice said, "Jen, I don't want to marry you." In realspeak, Fabrice said, "Jen, I'm gay. I like boys. I like them naked. And I like them all the time. I miss my boyfriend, and the sexual tension between the other five guys has driven me to insanity." Hey ABC, thanks for pretending he was coming out. How dare you toy with our emotions as Fabrice toyed with Jen's! Not fair. I'm mad. But now that Fabrice is back on the market, I might just make out with him to get back at you.
So, after all was not come out and done, we are left with:
1) Ryan
2) Jerry
3) Wendell
4) J.P.
I am hereby left with one guy that I like: Wendell. Win one for the team. Not necessarily the team that both I and Fabrice play for, but the team of love. Win it, Wendell!
Ben, the loser of the evening, is headed home. Why this happened I do not know. He is gorgeous, wonderful, hairy-chested, and beautiful. Ben, please post a comment on this blog and I will reply with my cell phone number. We love you.
Tonight's awards:
1) Hottest: Ben. Goodbye my love!!
2) Most normal: Wendell
3) Most boring: The cast. Can we have some drama and humor please?
4) Gayest/weakest/most in the closet: Fabrice. "I don't want to marry you, Jen. I don't want to marry any woman. EVER! Yesssss, I get to go back to my boyfriend!"
Until next week,
Your rather upset and emotionally scarred Mike
Monday, January 31, 2005
Monday, January 24, 2005
The Night of Surprises (and of the worst date EVER)
Although I'm still a bit shocked and awed, I owe you a blog entry, and I will write through the pain.
The night began with a game of basketball. A little four-on-four action that we all knew I would enjoy. I'll give you one guess which team I liked most. Did you guess the "skins?" Yeah. Jerry, Wendell, Josh and Keith, bronzed and buff, took on Fabrice, Ryan, J.P. and Ben who may be buff as well, but who sadly played as "shirts." Couldn't they have played skins versus skins? Way more fun for all of us. The game got a bit physical, but I have to be honest. All I could think the entire time was, "what if my 'undercover gay' plan (i.e. the role ABC cast with Fabrice instead of me) worked and I had to play basketball when all I wanted was to be the slutty sideline cheerleader?" Eighth grade gym haunts me again...
The game determined who got the one-on-one dates, and who got screwed. Fabrice and J.P., to the dismay of Jen, got the love.
And then the worst date in the history of the world began. Cue the fabulous old-school limo and the gay bachelor and the scene is set. The lovebirds pull up to the Cotton Club where a sultry Vanessa Williams serenades them with a rollicking ballad. Not really. It was actually quite dismal, but she's old and we love her. Was I the only one who had "Saved the Best for Last" in his head for the remainder of the date?
The date was so horribly awkward I had to look away. Cue the "dun...dun...dun..." music. In the next scene, Fabrice (worst liar ever) relays the story about his "girlfriend" of yore. Then the tears came. But when we really thought things were bad, they had only just begun, because Fabrice felt the need to go in for the most unannounced, unexpected, and unruly kiss ever witnessed by gaykind (me). I died. And when I mean died, I mean I immediately yelped at the top of my lungs and then called a friend on whom I vented my pent up angst. Folks, you have all just witnessed Fabrice's infidelity. I bet his boyfriend screamed louder than me! Jen abruptly called the date off, and we figured Fabrice was history. But then we remember that ABC is in cohoots with faggy Frenchy. He's playing his role well, and he's sure to stay another episode after the producers force Jen to keep him on.
The second one-on-one found a macho J.P. picking up Jen for a helicopter ride to paradise. (Apparently paradise is a Native American casino, but that's fine.) As J.P. reinforced traditional gender roles by asserting his "manly side," the date went surprisingly well. J.P. told Jen about the company his daddy, I mean he, started, and they had a romantic night of food, massages, and hot tubs. As trusted bachelorites, I surely hope you all caught on when the cameras conveniently panned away each time J.P.'s body came into view. What did he convince the producers to hide? Obviously not a hot body.
Overall the date went well--but then again, we were coming off a horrific experience with Fabrice, and a night of eating dog shit would have been better than another night of tears and toungue-y kisses.
On the last date, Jen joined Wendell, Ben, Keith, Ryan, Jerry and Josh in the Sheep's Meadow in Central Park (i.e. the lawn on which you can find me on any sunny Sunday from spring to fall). Hmmm...what did we learn? Josh still has bad hair, Keith is still nervous, Jerry is still charming yet cocky, Ben is still off camera somewhere, and Wendell is the coolest cat in town. Although the kiss between Jen and Jerry may have been romantic to some, I think Wendell took the cake on this date. They have the best chemistry, and when Jen is with him all is very fun, easy-going and cute. We love you Wendell. You're fun, let's hang out.
Pre-rose-ceremony, Jen seemed to have her mind made up. But then the producers got to her and told her to keep Fabrice on for another go at it. Ben got his first on-air time ever, and he was cute. Jerry turned the charm up once again, but his suave, cocky smirk worries me a bit. I think all the time spent in the doorway at Harry Winston has rubbed off on him. There are only so many botoxed Upper East Side bitches one can take in a day, and I'm thinking Jerry took a lot of them in his day (and probably a few houseboys too, if you know what I mean).
So, when all was said and done, we are left with:
1) J.P. Will we forgive him for wearing no socks with his suit? Probably not, but tune in next week for the decision.
2) Jerry. Cocky smirk and all.
3)Ryan. Do we know you?
4) Ben. We love you.
5) Wendell. We like you a lot.
6) Fabrice. We all just died. Oh, and you're coming out of the closet to Jen next week at the rose ceremony. Thanks for stringing us along ABC.
Adios to Josh and Keith.
This week's awards.
1) Hot bod award: Keith. You can teach me some welding tricks if you're bored.
2) Most honest: Jen. We love your candid remarks on how much people suck.
2) Worst kiss: Fabrice's mouth-raping of Jen.
3) Worst date: See above.
4) Worst hair: Josh. Seriously, dude.
5) Worst speech impediment: Fabrice. When a word has a "th" in it, it's pronounced "thhhh." Not "f." Let's practice. "With" is pronounced "with," not "wif." Please practice five times daily.
Until next week's coming out episode, I leave you shocked and awed.
Mike
The night began with a game of basketball. A little four-on-four action that we all knew I would enjoy. I'll give you one guess which team I liked most. Did you guess the "skins?" Yeah. Jerry, Wendell, Josh and Keith, bronzed and buff, took on Fabrice, Ryan, J.P. and Ben who may be buff as well, but who sadly played as "shirts." Couldn't they have played skins versus skins? Way more fun for all of us. The game got a bit physical, but I have to be honest. All I could think the entire time was, "what if my 'undercover gay' plan (i.e. the role ABC cast with Fabrice instead of me) worked and I had to play basketball when all I wanted was to be the slutty sideline cheerleader?" Eighth grade gym haunts me again...
The game determined who got the one-on-one dates, and who got screwed. Fabrice and J.P., to the dismay of Jen, got the love.
And then the worst date in the history of the world began. Cue the fabulous old-school limo and the gay bachelor and the scene is set. The lovebirds pull up to the Cotton Club where a sultry Vanessa Williams serenades them with a rollicking ballad. Not really. It was actually quite dismal, but she's old and we love her. Was I the only one who had "Saved the Best for Last" in his head for the remainder of the date?
The date was so horribly awkward I had to look away. Cue the "dun...dun...dun..." music. In the next scene, Fabrice (worst liar ever) relays the story about his "girlfriend" of yore. Then the tears came. But when we really thought things were bad, they had only just begun, because Fabrice felt the need to go in for the most unannounced, unexpected, and unruly kiss ever witnessed by gaykind (me). I died. And when I mean died, I mean I immediately yelped at the top of my lungs and then called a friend on whom I vented my pent up angst. Folks, you have all just witnessed Fabrice's infidelity. I bet his boyfriend screamed louder than me! Jen abruptly called the date off, and we figured Fabrice was history. But then we remember that ABC is in cohoots with faggy Frenchy. He's playing his role well, and he's sure to stay another episode after the producers force Jen to keep him on.
The second one-on-one found a macho J.P. picking up Jen for a helicopter ride to paradise. (Apparently paradise is a Native American casino, but that's fine.) As J.P. reinforced traditional gender roles by asserting his "manly side," the date went surprisingly well. J.P. told Jen about the company his daddy, I mean he, started, and they had a romantic night of food, massages, and hot tubs. As trusted bachelorites, I surely hope you all caught on when the cameras conveniently panned away each time J.P.'s body came into view. What did he convince the producers to hide? Obviously not a hot body.
Overall the date went well--but then again, we were coming off a horrific experience with Fabrice, and a night of eating dog shit would have been better than another night of tears and toungue-y kisses.
On the last date, Jen joined Wendell, Ben, Keith, Ryan, Jerry and Josh in the Sheep's Meadow in Central Park (i.e. the lawn on which you can find me on any sunny Sunday from spring to fall). Hmmm...what did we learn? Josh still has bad hair, Keith is still nervous, Jerry is still charming yet cocky, Ben is still off camera somewhere, and Wendell is the coolest cat in town. Although the kiss between Jen and Jerry may have been romantic to some, I think Wendell took the cake on this date. They have the best chemistry, and when Jen is with him all is very fun, easy-going and cute. We love you Wendell. You're fun, let's hang out.
Pre-rose-ceremony, Jen seemed to have her mind made up. But then the producers got to her and told her to keep Fabrice on for another go at it. Ben got his first on-air time ever, and he was cute. Jerry turned the charm up once again, but his suave, cocky smirk worries me a bit. I think all the time spent in the doorway at Harry Winston has rubbed off on him. There are only so many botoxed Upper East Side bitches one can take in a day, and I'm thinking Jerry took a lot of them in his day (and probably a few houseboys too, if you know what I mean).
So, when all was said and done, we are left with:
1) J.P. Will we forgive him for wearing no socks with his suit? Probably not, but tune in next week for the decision.
2) Jerry. Cocky smirk and all.
3)Ryan. Do we know you?
4) Ben. We love you.
5) Wendell. We like you a lot.
6) Fabrice. We all just died. Oh, and you're coming out of the closet to Jen next week at the rose ceremony. Thanks for stringing us along ABC.
Adios to Josh and Keith.
This week's awards.
1) Hot bod award: Keith. You can teach me some welding tricks if you're bored.
2) Most honest: Jen. We love your candid remarks on how much people suck.
2) Worst kiss: Fabrice's mouth-raping of Jen.
3) Worst date: See above.
4) Worst hair: Josh. Seriously, dude.
5) Worst speech impediment: Fabrice. When a word has a "th" in it, it's pronounced "thhhh." Not "f." Let's practice. "With" is pronounced "with," not "wif." Please practice five times daily.
Until next week's coming out episode, I leave you shocked and awed.
Mike
Monday, January 17, 2005
Week 2: The Militants Let Loose
After two beers and some tasty sushi, I sat down for a night of fun, freaky guys, and fun (couldn't think of another good word that started with "f"). Episode #2 unveiled its nasty traits, and by "nasty traits" I mean the militant men let us know that they are out for blood--or at least Jen's hand in marriage. Not going to lie, I think Jen was a bit off-put by the guys' off-putting obsession with her, but then again, this is what makes for good telly.
The first date found Michael, Ryan from NY (i.e. the only non-white one, a.k.a. token), Fabrice, AW, Ben, Jason and Jerry on a boat, I mean mobile home on water, putsing around Manhattan. Honestly, there was very little drama to report. But we were left with one special tidbit: Michael humps his dog in bed. I'm thinking that was his ticket back to Michigan. Sorry, your big guns just weren't enough. That whole bit with your muscles at the end was simply embarrassing.
Date two was a romantic night at the Plaza with Keith. By romantic I mean awkward. We learned that Keith was an "artist." Apparently I'm an artist too, because Keith informed Jen that he "drew a lot" when he was little. Um, so did I. I could show you the amazing portrait of my dad I drew for "Dad's Day" during year one of preschool. It's really quite a sight. If only I knew that made me an "artist," I'd probably be dating more. Damn, I really had a gift with crayons.
The third date was a day of basketball at MSG with Wendell, Matt, Ryan from Cali, Mark, Stu, Josh and John Paul. Again, very little happened. Here's what I got: 1) Stu wants to know everything about Jen. Jen was scared, we were nervous. 2) Matt from Staten Island (again, we send our apologies) was nervous and weird. 3) Basically it was a series of job interviews in which guys didn't know anything about the job, but figured it was best just to say, "I really want this job." Oh, insert "Jen" for "job."
Meanwhile, at the manse, the boys were up to there usual hullabaloo as the police were called by a disgruntled neighbor in an unfortunate pit-stained t-shirt. Josh and Fabrice had a small run-in, and we were all informed that Jen "needs a warrior and a lover." Apparently pro marathoners moonlight as warriors these days, and we thank Josh for informing us.
And now begins the section of my review in which I rip into the antics of the evening (by antics I mean the faults of the bachelors) and basically become the bitch that I am.
Jason came out of the closet as a virgin. He also sealed his fate and ended his run on the show. Sorry, hopefully you'll find some Texan virgin at one of your motivational speeches. Jason, you could be such a man-whore. You could have your way with your motivated roadies. But alas, you're saving yourself, and I will not judge. Oh who am I kidding? I'm judging the hell out of you right now and I love it.
Maybe it's just the Staten Island in him, but Matt went a bit overboard with requesting Jen to sign and kiss his Knicks ticket. I could say lots of dirty things right now, but I won't.
John Paul's smile is disturbing. He should audition for the role of the Joker in the next generation of Batman movies. And he should stop talking about how he "works so hard." Please, your Oklahoman daddy owns some dumb company that hired you and now you have lots of daddy's money. Oklahoma, OK!!
Mark's gift of the angel necklace was a bit too soon. Again, let's simmer down with the freaky gestures of kindness. You've known Jen for two days now, and you're already giving her necklaces worn by your dead mother. Sorry, I love Jen too, but let's not overstep the boundaries this soon. Oh, and have fun at home because however much that necklace cost was the same price it cost for writing yourself off the show. I'm not kidding when I say that I screamed like I had just witnessed an awful murder (or coolots) when you explained the significance of the gift. Never again, Matt. Never.
The rose ceremony was rather uneventful as we had no momentary lapses of consciousness, but eight roses were handed out all the same. And, GASP, it was "one of the most dramatic rose ceremonies ever." Please, Chris, we've heard it before.
Who survived? Wendell, Fabrice, Ben, Keith, Ryan from Cali, Jerry, John Paul and Josh.
Who's headed home? Jason, Ryan (token), Mark, Michael, Stu, Matt and AW. Some words of advice for the departed: Jason, go have sex. Ryan, try not to be the token on an all-white show. It's just not fun. Mark, don't give freaky gifts to women you don't know. Michael, no more muscle shows. Stu, don't obsess over chicks you don't know. It makes you look like a crazy person. Matt, move away from Staten Island. It's where we send our trash. AW, wait, who are you again?
Tonight's awards:
1) Craziest (not "crazy in love," just pretty much crazy): Stu. Go stalk someone else.
2) Gayest: Fabrice. We know your dirty secret.
3) Understatement of the night: "If I don't get a rose tonight, I'll be disappointed." --Stu. Um, Stu, let's be honest, you probably attempted suicide after the show.
4) Scariest Moment: Mark's present. I died.
Until next Monday, hasta.
The Bachelorite extraordinaire, Mike
The first date found Michael, Ryan from NY (i.e. the only non-white one, a.k.a. token), Fabrice, AW, Ben, Jason and Jerry on a boat, I mean mobile home on water, putsing around Manhattan. Honestly, there was very little drama to report. But we were left with one special tidbit: Michael humps his dog in bed. I'm thinking that was his ticket back to Michigan. Sorry, your big guns just weren't enough. That whole bit with your muscles at the end was simply embarrassing.
Date two was a romantic night at the Plaza with Keith. By romantic I mean awkward. We learned that Keith was an "artist." Apparently I'm an artist too, because Keith informed Jen that he "drew a lot" when he was little. Um, so did I. I could show you the amazing portrait of my dad I drew for "Dad's Day" during year one of preschool. It's really quite a sight. If only I knew that made me an "artist," I'd probably be dating more. Damn, I really had a gift with crayons.
The third date was a day of basketball at MSG with Wendell, Matt, Ryan from Cali, Mark, Stu, Josh and John Paul. Again, very little happened. Here's what I got: 1) Stu wants to know everything about Jen. Jen was scared, we were nervous. 2) Matt from Staten Island (again, we send our apologies) was nervous and weird. 3) Basically it was a series of job interviews in which guys didn't know anything about the job, but figured it was best just to say, "I really want this job." Oh, insert "Jen" for "job."
Meanwhile, at the manse, the boys were up to there usual hullabaloo as the police were called by a disgruntled neighbor in an unfortunate pit-stained t-shirt. Josh and Fabrice had a small run-in, and we were all informed that Jen "needs a warrior and a lover." Apparently pro marathoners moonlight as warriors these days, and we thank Josh for informing us.
And now begins the section of my review in which I rip into the antics of the evening (by antics I mean the faults of the bachelors) and basically become the bitch that I am.
Jason came out of the closet as a virgin. He also sealed his fate and ended his run on the show. Sorry, hopefully you'll find some Texan virgin at one of your motivational speeches. Jason, you could be such a man-whore. You could have your way with your motivated roadies. But alas, you're saving yourself, and I will not judge. Oh who am I kidding? I'm judging the hell out of you right now and I love it.
Maybe it's just the Staten Island in him, but Matt went a bit overboard with requesting Jen to sign and kiss his Knicks ticket. I could say lots of dirty things right now, but I won't.
John Paul's smile is disturbing. He should audition for the role of the Joker in the next generation of Batman movies. And he should stop talking about how he "works so hard." Please, your Oklahoman daddy owns some dumb company that hired you and now you have lots of daddy's money. Oklahoma, OK!!
Mark's gift of the angel necklace was a bit too soon. Again, let's simmer down with the freaky gestures of kindness. You've known Jen for two days now, and you're already giving her necklaces worn by your dead mother. Sorry, I love Jen too, but let's not overstep the boundaries this soon. Oh, and have fun at home because however much that necklace cost was the same price it cost for writing yourself off the show. I'm not kidding when I say that I screamed like I had just witnessed an awful murder (or coolots) when you explained the significance of the gift. Never again, Matt. Never.
The rose ceremony was rather uneventful as we had no momentary lapses of consciousness, but eight roses were handed out all the same. And, GASP, it was "one of the most dramatic rose ceremonies ever." Please, Chris, we've heard it before.
Who survived? Wendell, Fabrice, Ben, Keith, Ryan from Cali, Jerry, John Paul and Josh.
Who's headed home? Jason, Ryan (token), Mark, Michael, Stu, Matt and AW. Some words of advice for the departed: Jason, go have sex. Ryan, try not to be the token on an all-white show. It's just not fun. Mark, don't give freaky gifts to women you don't know. Michael, no more muscle shows. Stu, don't obsess over chicks you don't know. It makes you look like a crazy person. Matt, move away from Staten Island. It's where we send our trash. AW, wait, who are you again?
Tonight's awards:
1) Craziest (not "crazy in love," just pretty much crazy): Stu. Go stalk someone else.
2) Gayest: Fabrice. We know your dirty secret.
3) Understatement of the night: "If I don't get a rose tonight, I'll be disappointed." --Stu. Um, Stu, let's be honest, you probably attempted suicide after the show.
4) Scariest Moment: Mark's present. I died.
Until next Monday, hasta.
The Bachelorite extraordinaire, Mike
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Juicy Deets
Good friends in cyberland,
Good lord, my duties as a blogger expand seven-fold (or some-fold, for that matter). Apparently, I now update this site more than once a week. Due to the due diligence of my beloved bachelorites, here are the deets of the day:
Is Jerry gay or just a quack? We don't know. But he was once a doorman at Harry Winston on 5th Ave. here in NYC. I'm sorry, career change from doorman to "Art Director?" Please, more like doorman to doorman.
Or is Fabrice gay? Check the goods at this link. Did Fabrice steal my idea?
http://www.realityblurred.com/realitytv/archives/the_bachelorette_3/
2005_Jan_12_fabrice_gay
Thanks to my two devoted bachelorites of the week for the fun gossip, who shall go unnamed due to security reasons.
Oh, and a shot out to Bea from Omaha who thought I neglected her in the first update. Dear Bea, we're now very futuristic as I've crossed into the world of blogging from the old-school e-mail updates. Happy catching up, and welcome!
Love to all from West 51st!
Mike
Good lord, my duties as a blogger expand seven-fold (or some-fold, for that matter). Apparently, I now update this site more than once a week. Due to the due diligence of my beloved bachelorites, here are the deets of the day:
Is Jerry gay or just a quack? We don't know. But he was once a doorman at Harry Winston on 5th Ave. here in NYC. I'm sorry, career change from doorman to "Art Director?" Please, more like doorman to doorman.
Or is Fabrice gay? Check the goods at this link. Did Fabrice steal my idea?
http://www.realityblurred.com/realitytv/archives/the_bachelorette_3/
2005_Jan_12_fabrice_gay
Thanks to my two devoted bachelorites of the week for the fun gossip, who shall go unnamed due to security reasons.
Oh, and a shot out to Bea from Omaha who thought I neglected her in the first update. Dear Bea, we're now very futuristic as I've crossed into the world of blogging from the old-school e-mail updates. Happy catching up, and welcome!
Love to all from West 51st!
Mike
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Jen Returns...and so do I!
My lovers, my friends, my ex-lovers, and my enemies,
As nine o'clock hit, the wine glass hit my lips. Ladies and ladies (and gentlemen...ugh), "The Bachelorette" returns, and so do I. As a dear friend of mine can attest--yes, I allowed someone to watch the sacred show with me--I was giddy with excitement. And maybe a little drunk. Without further adieu, here we go.
Jen Schefft, our bachelorette, is back, bronzed, and buff. She dropped about fifteen lbs (pronouced l-bees) and looks better than ever. Okay, she still has a bit of a paunch, but she's fabulous and we love her. Her arms are toned, and her legs are amazing. Wait...do I like girls? Mmmmm, no. But still, she looks great.
First off, we love that the show takes place in my stomping ground, New York. But, ABC, why didn't you let me be on the show? I had this great idea to be a bachelor undercover. I even called the casting hotline this fall. I would have been a bachelor, Jen would have given me a rose, and then I would have come out of the closet with boas and heels and proclaimed my inner homo to Jen. The twist? I would have stayed on the show and fooled the other guys into thinking I was straight. I would have been Jen's eyes when her eyes weren't there. But ABC didn't think it was a hot idea. Whatever ABC. You could have at least given me the address of the bachelor pad so I could have hit on the 25 bachelors. (Speaking of bachelor pad, my "bachelor pad" [the notepad on which I take notes for this blog] is now completely full. I'm not kidding. I need a new bachelor pad.) But whatever, I'm over it. Oooh, I have another idea. ABC, can we do "The Gay Bachelor?" I'm newly single, and I can think of no one better to headline the sure-to-be-a-hit series.
But on to the episode. First, the corn-fed midwestern friends, Abby and Michelle, were cute. And by cute I mean bad dye-jobs and horrible outfits. But it's fine. They're Jen's friends, and we respect them.
Sidenote: I am hereby banishing the term "taking it to the next level." I'm sorry, when you're not even on a "level" there isn't another level to go to. Thanks. Seriously bachelors, no need to say you want to take it to the next level. It's embarrassing for me and I have to mute the telly.
Another suggestion to the bachelors: don't kiss Jen's hand upon introducing yourself. And don't kiss any girl's hand when you introduce yourself. Who are you kidding? It's embarrassing to the viewer, to the girl, and to yourself. The only people who are allowed to kiss hands upon introduction are drunk elderly relatives at holiday parties. And even then it's awkward. Thanks.
The bachelors arrived in limos as usual. Not going to lie, I was hoping for a greater degree of hotness, but I'm dealing with the cards we were dealt, and I have a few faves. First, I'm loving the two virgins: Jason and Josh. What?!? Enough said. Second, love the snotty frenchman. Perfect. Third, I'm obsessed with Ben, the ski instructor. Will he replace Ian as the holder of the key to my heart? Never. But I love him, and I pledge him two children. (For you new bloggees, Ian is from "Bachelorette" Number 2. We're getting married after our liberal president, President Bush, makes it legal. Um, we're never getting married...shit!)
Who are the disasters of the night, you ask? I have plenty to offer. First, Jerry. Please refrain from carrying newly-met women down staircases. Oh, and try not to be gay. Second, David. Try to fix your acne scars. And also try not to pass out at the rose ceremony. Third, Chris, who are you kidding with your accent? Honestly. Fourth, Stu, stop obsessing over Jen. I mean, you like her, we get it. But your obsession is scaring me, and I'm nervous. Fifth, Fabrice, you french asshole. Tape your ears back. They're kinda big. (Anyone thinking Jesse Palmer??)
Okay, as it's only the first episode, I'll save plenty of bitchiness for the coming reviews. But the first rose ceremony awarded roses to:
Keith
Ryan
A.W.: Like the root beer?
Matt: From Staten Island. From us here at the Bachelor Update, we're sorry about that.
Wendell
Ryan
Mark: Surprise of the night. You're ugly.
Ben
John Paul: Wait, just so I'm sure, are you Catholic?
Jerry
Jason: Virgin Number 1
Josh: Virgin Number 2
Fabrice
Michael
Stu
There you have it folks. But you don't have all of it.
Tonight's awards:
1) First impression award: Ben. I'm obsessed with you. Feel free to teach me to "ski" any day.
2) Oxymoron award: Chris from Kentucky. Okay, a hairstylist from KY? What?!? Are you kidding?
3) Best bite-it sequence: David. Did you faint b/c of your bad skin? Your skin is very unfortunate and we all understand. Allow me to refer you to my dermatologist.
4) Gayest: Jerry. I'm sorry for you.
5) Most humiliated: Jen after being carried down the stairs by resident homo (Jerry).
6) Drunky McDougle award: Chris. See award # 2.
7) Takeyourshirtoff award: Ben. We all know you have a hot bod. Just take the shirt off and get it over with.
Until next week, adios mis amigos,
Mike, your fearless bachelorite
As nine o'clock hit, the wine glass hit my lips. Ladies and ladies (and gentlemen...ugh), "The Bachelorette" returns, and so do I. As a dear friend of mine can attest--yes, I allowed someone to watch the sacred show with me--I was giddy with excitement. And maybe a little drunk. Without further adieu, here we go.
Jen Schefft, our bachelorette, is back, bronzed, and buff. She dropped about fifteen lbs (pronouced l-bees) and looks better than ever. Okay, she still has a bit of a paunch, but she's fabulous and we love her. Her arms are toned, and her legs are amazing. Wait...do I like girls? Mmmmm, no. But still, she looks great.
First off, we love that the show takes place in my stomping ground, New York. But, ABC, why didn't you let me be on the show? I had this great idea to be a bachelor undercover. I even called the casting hotline this fall. I would have been a bachelor, Jen would have given me a rose, and then I would have come out of the closet with boas and heels and proclaimed my inner homo to Jen. The twist? I would have stayed on the show and fooled the other guys into thinking I was straight. I would have been Jen's eyes when her eyes weren't there. But ABC didn't think it was a hot idea. Whatever ABC. You could have at least given me the address of the bachelor pad so I could have hit on the 25 bachelors. (Speaking of bachelor pad, my "bachelor pad" [the notepad on which I take notes for this blog] is now completely full. I'm not kidding. I need a new bachelor pad.) But whatever, I'm over it. Oooh, I have another idea. ABC, can we do "The Gay Bachelor?" I'm newly single, and I can think of no one better to headline the sure-to-be-a-hit series.
But on to the episode. First, the corn-fed midwestern friends, Abby and Michelle, were cute. And by cute I mean bad dye-jobs and horrible outfits. But it's fine. They're Jen's friends, and we respect them.
Sidenote: I am hereby banishing the term "taking it to the next level." I'm sorry, when you're not even on a "level" there isn't another level to go to. Thanks. Seriously bachelors, no need to say you want to take it to the next level. It's embarrassing for me and I have to mute the telly.
Another suggestion to the bachelors: don't kiss Jen's hand upon introducing yourself. And don't kiss any girl's hand when you introduce yourself. Who are you kidding? It's embarrassing to the viewer, to the girl, and to yourself. The only people who are allowed to kiss hands upon introduction are drunk elderly relatives at holiday parties. And even then it's awkward. Thanks.
The bachelors arrived in limos as usual. Not going to lie, I was hoping for a greater degree of hotness, but I'm dealing with the cards we were dealt, and I have a few faves. First, I'm loving the two virgins: Jason and Josh. What?!? Enough said. Second, love the snotty frenchman. Perfect. Third, I'm obsessed with Ben, the ski instructor. Will he replace Ian as the holder of the key to my heart? Never. But I love him, and I pledge him two children. (For you new bloggees, Ian is from "Bachelorette" Number 2. We're getting married after our liberal president, President Bush, makes it legal. Um, we're never getting married...shit!)
Who are the disasters of the night, you ask? I have plenty to offer. First, Jerry. Please refrain from carrying newly-met women down staircases. Oh, and try not to be gay. Second, David. Try to fix your acne scars. And also try not to pass out at the rose ceremony. Third, Chris, who are you kidding with your accent? Honestly. Fourth, Stu, stop obsessing over Jen. I mean, you like her, we get it. But your obsession is scaring me, and I'm nervous. Fifth, Fabrice, you french asshole. Tape your ears back. They're kinda big. (Anyone thinking Jesse Palmer??)
Okay, as it's only the first episode, I'll save plenty of bitchiness for the coming reviews. But the first rose ceremony awarded roses to:
Keith
Ryan
A.W.: Like the root beer?
Matt: From Staten Island. From us here at the Bachelor Update, we're sorry about that.
Wendell
Ryan
Mark: Surprise of the night. You're ugly.
Ben
John Paul: Wait, just so I'm sure, are you Catholic?
Jerry
Jason: Virgin Number 1
Josh: Virgin Number 2
Fabrice
Michael
Stu
There you have it folks. But you don't have all of it.
Tonight's awards:
1) First impression award: Ben. I'm obsessed with you. Feel free to teach me to "ski" any day.
2) Oxymoron award: Chris from Kentucky. Okay, a hairstylist from KY? What?!? Are you kidding?
3) Best bite-it sequence: David. Did you faint b/c of your bad skin? Your skin is very unfortunate and we all understand. Allow me to refer you to my dermatologist.
4) Gayest: Jerry. I'm sorry for you.
5) Most humiliated: Jen after being carried down the stairs by resident homo (Jerry).
6) Drunky McDougle award: Chris. See award # 2.
7) Takeyourshirtoff award: Ben. We all know you have a hot bod. Just take the shirt off and get it over with.
Until next week, adios mis amigos,
Mike, your fearless bachelorite
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