Lady Who?

Apparently I slept through the Lady Gaga recruitment session, because I totally missed that phenomenon. I've yet to hop on the Crazy for LG Train; In fact, I've vehemently declared my aversion to all things Gaga. I don't get it. I don't get her. The headpieces leave me in a cloud of confusion and judgment. However (and this is a big "however"), thanks to Alexander Skarsgard in the Paparazzi video (hummena hummena), I've at least retired the g0-to "Lady Gaga is nuts" commentary. Apparently I'm very easily swayed. Throw in a hot, Swedish vampire and I'll go ga-ga (pun only slightly intended) for anything.

Fine, fine. I admit it; The music is catchy, and she may just be so "out there" that I respect her. I still don't get it, but she should be able to have her fun without my pithy commentary. And people love her. I mean, they luuuurv her. They are in fact coo coo for cocoa puffs, insane in the membrane, ga-ga for Gaga. So what I can't understand is...How can she be this ubiquitous pop entity, but I can't even pick her out of a lineup? I have no idea what the Gaga looks like. I'm completely serious. If I ever see something loud and crazy with a Muppet muffler walking down a red carpet I just assume it's her. I mean, really? Do these look like they are all definitely the same person?

Am I the only one? Am I just missing some gene that distinguishes one costume from the next? I mean, I would have known that Michael Dorsey was Dorothy Michaels. Robin Williams never would have fooled me as Mrs. Doubtfire. I knew right off the bat that was Mike Meyers in Inglorious Basterds. I'm awesome at celebrity yearbook trivia.

Why is this so hard??
That's what she said...

On the Wings of Bull

So this was the big "Tell All" episode, folks. Apparently in the minds of ABC, "tell all" means catching up (aka watching the spread of venereal disease) with Bachelor alum, letting Mrs. Ray Ramono ramble like she always wanted, witness Rozlyn be incoherent and crabby and watching old footage. That's one thing I still don't understand with reunion shows. Why spend the first five segments catching us up on this season? The whole reason we're watching the reunion show is because we have in fact watched the whole season. The show is repetitive enough on its own. Were we to learn something from this little reminder? Tenley's divorced?? Ali left?? No one likes Vienna?? We do not need your clip show. We're good.

I paid very little attention to the first half hour because I haven't watched a full season of the Bachelor since Bob Guiney, and I didn't even keep up with that guy. Or buy his CD.

This is apparently available for a penny on Amazon. You could literally find enough money in the gutter to purchase this album. If it weren't for the postage, it might just be worth it...

Anyway, when all the old Bachelor/ettes aren't cruising (Time out: I don't know these people, but did I see an O'Connell? Like...Could be Jerry O'Connell's brother/cousin/stuntman. What the eff? And who's the chick that's crazy about bears? I don't like her. She's like an even creepier Vienna. Oh, and the one that's apparently the asshole of the crowd...the one with the girlfriend on Jillian's season? Did he say that since he was voted baddest-guy-on-reality-dating-shows-that-give-flowers-and-rings-instead-of-chains-and-crabs that the number of nipples in his dating life had increased? Nipples? Quoi? Such confusion and pain. Time in.), they are doing charity work. The working in the food bank is good. Yay you. But. Painting lifeguard stations? For Haiti? Really? That's...the best...you could come up with? Call me insensitive, but that's the equivalent of sending potted plants. Let's take care of making sure people have homes before we worry about landscaping, ok? If there are any Haitian beach parties planned in the near future, and this opinion derails the psychedelic lifeguard stand initiative, and thus the colorful ambiance, my apologies.

Finally, the ladies arrive to the party about 45 minutes into the show, (Fashionably late, much?) and I assumed we were going to get down to business. I assumed wrong. Three of the girls share stories of "inappropriate behavior" between Roz and the producer guy, which will all be repeated in half an hour when Rozlyn takes the hot seat. Note to producers (that aren't screwing contestants. Ooooo snap.), we don't need to hear these stories twice. Once will make plenty of impact. How about when you bring the accused out? She can be Hester Prynne. The bachelorettes, the angry townsmen. We'll brand her with a scarlet SFB (Slutty Fake Boobs) and be done with it. Oh well.

Bob Barker (eh, I mean, the host guy) tells Gia to come on dooowwn! Let's relive your broken heart, shall we? Not much to report. Her dress was crazy sparkled, and while I would look like a misshapen disco ball, I think she looked lovely. I'm on Team Lispy Gia. Screw you, Ali. Let her be the next Bachelorette. She managed not to cry that much, and even though she said Bachelor was the best experience she ever had...Eh...I still like her. Bob B. told her it was "a pleasure doing business with [her]" (Seriously? No really, seriously?), and sent her on her way.

Then he might have well said, "And now the girl that should have been in the final three, come and join us dear, dear Ali." Ali, I hate you and your sack dress and your sad attempt to make up for being a "blunt," sloppy, whiney, douchbagette. I don't care about the things you say. Did you really think Jake would come fly after you? This is not real life, met at a bar, had a few dates, make a grand gesture scenario. He's contractually obligated to a be on a TV show. You are not that special. However, you are in fact, a ratard.

Absolutely no opinions of women were changed this episode. Ashleigh's still mostly drunk and slutty. Mrs. Ray Ramano is just as irrelevant as she was on the show, except now with more screen time (she didn't shut up, did she?). Elizabeth aka "You know you wanna make out with my forehead all night" still sucks. Not so much a big surprise that was your "strategy." If this show were Survivor you'd never make it to the casting call, much less the island, with a plan like that. Michelle is still unbalanced, but she is right: Falling in love on TV is not the ideal, and doesn't exactly have the greatest success rate (Shut it, Ali! No one was talking to you!). Corrie and Channy...Yeah. Guess who got zero screen time? Well, I take that back. I think they both got awkward looks to the camera but zero talking. Everyone else, congratulations! You've been deemed highly forgettable and can go on leading regular lives.

I'm not even going to go into the Rozlyn segment. She was just catty, rude and full of poo. Hate chu. And we get no real answers. No video, pictures, confession, producer's name to Google, nothin. Boring. But did her walk in not look like she was being escorted on to Jerry Springer? Heh, heh. I got a good giggle out of that one.

Kind of surprised she didn't flash the audience in response to the incessant boos, shouting, "Wha? Wha? Wha? You know you like it!! I don't need you!"
Totally watched that show too much.
Am trash by association.

Jake the Bach makes an appearance to be sickly vague (i.e. "My heart cries..." Puss.) Does he really need to be there? He obviously doesn't want to because he just threw on a blazer over his sweatsuit. I mean, come on. If you're gonna wear a suit, don't you dare go all Miami Vice in winter with a sweatshirt under your jacket. You wear a starched collar shirt, and you like it! If host man can wear cufflinks, so can you! Jake says nothing of any real importance and I could feel the end getting closer and closer...

Finally we get to the blooper reel, which is actually pretty funny. If the producers had any smarts, they'd incorporate that kind of thing into the actual show, because there was more entertainment in that three minutes than the whole of the entire season. Except for Corrie farting on the RV. Bless her. Now she's just gonna be known as the gassy, virgin reject. What a way to go.

In the end, I care about these people even less. I think Tenley and Vienna are more ridiculous than I thought they were before (I guess that flashback footage was good for something...), and feel kinda sorry that Jake has to pretend to marry one of them. And I feel sorry for whoever Jake's sister gives the stink eye next week. Whoo! That's potent. Until next week, I wish you peace, love and trashy TV.

A Love Letter

Dear Baked Goods,

It pains me to say that we must part. While our love runs true, the liturgical calendar can not permit us to express our immense love and devotion. For the next 40 days (plus Sundays, because I roll like that). Yes, this Lenten season, you are what I've chosen to give up. Oh to sacrifice one of my favorite things...Couldn't I just be a Lent cheater and give up smoking? Or working out regularly? Or MySpace? Or my outlandish drug habit? Fine, fine. Jesus wouldn't approve. He would much more appreciate my sacrifice of sweetened, carbohydrate-filled goodliness, something that realllly brings me joy.

So here's to you, my dear friends. Perfect Brownie Pan, you've served me gluttonously well. Finally I was able to actually bake the perfect brownie instead of crumbled lumps of chocolate dough, and now you must retire to the back of the cabinet. Unseen, but certainly not forgotten.

Edgar's Bakery, we'd only just met each other, and while your chicken salad plate was lovely, it was the cupcake counter that won my heart. And the petit fours. Oh, and the stacks of cookies I've even yet to try. Would it be wrong to drive by late at night and long for your from afar?

Fresh Market, my dear neighbor...Your pillow cookies, be them raspberry or almond-filled were nothing but delightful. My kitchen counters and tummy will miss your presence immensely. Chocolate-cherry bread, we hadn't even gotten to know each other yet. You've disappeared since my first visit and have yet to return. Did you sense that I might eventually leave you? Did you want to save me the pain of denying you by leaving before I got the chance? You are too kind. (And yes, I know I'm not technically giving up bread, but once you add chocolate and cherries...There's no denying the dessert-like features).

Publix Bakery, oh my cherished, constant compadre. I think I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow. Adieu to cream horns, two-bite cupcakes, cream cheese brownies and chocolate dollop-ed shortbread cookies...

And to the miscellaneous cinnamon rolls, birthday cake and doughnuts that may try to make their way into my life for the next month or so...Don't take it personally. It's not you; it's me. I promise I'll call when I've worked myself out.

Lots of love,

MEB

I hate this show.

I really really really really do. Why, dear Lord did I get myself mixed up in this crowd? I was always a good kid. When did I stray to the dark side?

Was this episode not extra painful to watch? I actually feel bad about my snarky judgments. It's like if the Soup were to make fun of the Special Olympics...But civilities be damned! Let's get down to business.

We're in St. Lucia (and I knew I was right about that horrible choker last week!)...

What's the big deal? Why does the Biddy keep raggin on my choker. My neck missed the companionship of its former turtleneck, and as we all know, the dude abides. And I'm a dude. Because I've got this rad choker.

...and apparently now this is the ideal place to fall in love. Funny. Two weeks ago that was San Francisco. Make up your minds people! How many times and how many places can you fall in love? With the same person? This is not a Woody Allen film. This is a TV dating show. Your emotions are vapid, at best, so at least try to remember if you've already fallen in love or not, ok? Thanks, bye.

Despite Ali leaving last week, we still can't get rid of her. She just keeps poppin' back up. From hence forth, she shall be known as "The Herp." Wah, wah, blub, blub...I made the wrong decision. Squishy face herp sad now. Suck it, Herp.

Gia gets the first date. Boat ride, street market, broken cymbal/pickle tub drum set, cut-off shorts, awkward reverse hump dance (Yeah, that would be humping side to side instead of front to back. Hella disturbing and Jake's signature move), tacky, tacky jewelry. Gia claimed she would always wear the necklace Jake got her...on her wrist. Because, um, [what was the reasoning, ABC intern that you whispered in Gia's ear?], oh because she wears her heart on her sleeve for this boy. And because it's way easier to cover with long sleeves or a nice tailored jacket. The date ends with, [surprise, surprise] a romantic, candlelit dinner and a back and forth of "I love you more." "No...I love you more." Blah blah. Oh lookie, a letter from host man has arrived. In short, it says if you wanna get down and get funky we've got a room for that, but hurry up the hot-tubbing because they charge us by the hour. They get as naked as you can on net TV and leave the rest to our imaginations.

Tenley gets the next date, and I'll admit it. I was doing laundry, so I was distracted. But apparently Jake wanted to show Ten his passion (Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Oh. Wait. You meant flying? Gotcha.), so they take a helicopter (Time out: I'm just sayin, if this were really his passion, wouldn't Jake be flying? Guess ABC couldn't get insurance clearance, could they? Time in.) and proceed to wander around the jungle. Tenley's still very excited at the prospect of dancing with Jake forever. Insert the cartoon birds that have come to create her romantic candlelit dinner gown. Now insert 47 soundbites of "I'm falling in love with Jake." "I'm falling in love with Tenley," and you'll feel how I feel. Worn the eff out. Seriously, if it weren't so painful I would go back and count how many times "I'm falling in love with [insert googly eyed freak here]" was uttered and would realize how many times my soul died a little that night. Buuuhhh.

Anyway, despite the big deal Tenley made out of having only spent the night with her ex-husband, she too accepts the host man's "get down to just your business socks" hotel suite for a night of...Well. Hrm. If the two of them were going to have a code name, I'd guess it'd be along the lines of a Milton Bradley game, so...yeah. They had a romping night of "Hungry Hungry Hippos."

After Jake sunk his battleship (boo yah!), it was time for his Vienna date. He takes her to one of the ships used in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. What a perfect adventure for a child. "Oh m'gaaaahhh. This was used in a movie??? I saw that on a screen in the dark! And now it's here! Does this mean we're in a movie too? This is AMAZING." Shoot me now. Someone (damn you, whoever you are) gave Jake an eye patch and sword. My soul is literally caving in on itself. There's not going to be anything left by the time this season is over. Anyway, I'm completely distracted the rest of the date because I can't decide if Jake looks more like Captain Ron or Pippi Longstocking. You decide.

What do you know, another romantic candlelit dinner. I think they should be at Chuck E Cheese. Jake asks what kind of ring Vienna would want, and in my head...Her response sounded extraordinarily like Dane Cook's imaginary girlfriend. Or any Dane Cook girl voice for that matter.

Ummm. Well. I have teeny fingers, so ummm. I need a skinny band. You knoooow, just like me, and I'm a princess. Daddy's little princess, soooo I want a princess cut. Oh oh oh, and um. I want a little bling. Yeah. Some bling just around the ring. Yah. I. Want. Some. Bling.

And what do you know, the host man's, "We've stocked the room with Marvin Gaye and Beanie Babies, what else could you want? Get you ass in some lingerie and show America what it's really like to be a patriot" overnight suite card arrives, and did we really think she wouldn't accept? I just hope her dad didn't follow them out to the island. Awkwaaard.

Day of the rose ceremony and the Herp just can't leave us alone. Ring Ring. Hello? Hi...It's Ali. And now...Ali's defense: Hi. Um...I made the wrong choice. I err. Love you? So miserable blub blub. Want to come back? I um...remember how you liked me? We saw Chicago? I wore yellow? We spun around in the ocean and I ruined my boots...blaaah. Love? Come back please?

For the next five minutes Jake's ramblings were both incoherent and exhausting. Looks like someone took a cue from the Peter Griffin School of Acting. Jake's lesson for this scene starts around the 1:00 mark.

In the end he told Herp to suck it. She left. He loves three other women now. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Holla.

Rose ceremony. AKA "We know Gia's going home, so let's get these girls out of the sun before their makeup lacquer starts to melt." Looks like Mr. Dateless just wanted to bone the swimsuit model to make up for those high school years (that'll show em!), but couldn't afford her footwear habit...Oh well. You win some, you lose some. Gia was a very good sport though. I'll give her that. Even with copious amounts of glitter mixing with the sweat and the tears, she managed to be kind and coherent. You go, Glen Coco!!

Until next week, when both the crazies and forgettables (ah yes, that would be you, Mrs. Ray Ramano) come out of the woodwork, happy TV watching!

Things I lurv.

So, it’s Valentines Weekend, and I’m celebrating by sending a whole boatload of love out to my favorite stuff. I’m not talking people or pets. I’m talking stuff. This is the stuff I would send conversation hearts and giant teddy bears to if I thought it would be appreciated. I would take this stuff out for a night on the town and treat it like stuff deserves to be treated…Oh I love you, stuff

My giant flannel shirt. It’s warm and cozy and can be wrapped around my body like a plaid straight jacket. If I didn’t watch so much What Not to Wear I’d be wearing it at work right now. Oh it’s like a flannel hug: comfy and delicious

Food blankets. Sister knows what these are. Their presence means that sister and I are about to dive into a gluttonous cornucopia of deliciousness and Harry or Chorus Line is in the DVD player.

Baked goods. That’s all. Do you really need more explanation?

Falling asleep naturally. You know the kind of sleep where you’re not doing it because you have to get up in the morning or a predetermined nap, but you’re just watching TV and suddenly woooosh. You are conked the eff out. Mmmm.

A collection of giant margarita glasses. Because this means there’s a table full of my favorite drunkedy drunk friends at El Rincon.

Broadway musicals. Won’t indulge because there’s already a whole blog about my lurv of musicals. But in short: I dig the Broadway.

Marathons. No, no not the running kind. I’m a low stamina biddy. I love eight straight hours of Top Chef, Project Runway or Biggest Loser. I used to dig Top Model, but I’m over that now…My tastes are so much more advanced now. [Bah]

My TV shows on DVD. The Office, Pushing Daisies, Queer as Folk, Prison Break, Flight of the Conchords. These are happy things. And it also means I get a marathon whenever I want, so…Score.

Tea and all the wonderful tea accessories. Mmm. Nothing says “biddy” like a nice steamy mug of green tea.

Flats that sound like heels when I walk. I don’t dig the high heels because I have a tendency to fall over, but I love the few pairs of flats I own that make that delightful “clack clack clack” on hard floors.

Flowers that I buy myself. Along with my stuff, I also like me and me deserves presents too. And me just happens to be a fan of fresh flowers, so I treat her right.

My daily timewaster sites. Occasionally at work I’ll get in a slump of do nothingness so I turn to my favorites to keep me entertained: Lamebook, Texts From Last Night, Overheard in New York, Not Hired, People of Walmart, Nic Cage as Everyone. Danke to you all for keeping me thoroughly amused.

Rough man hands. Soft, noodley man hands freak me out, so when I come across a nice pair of gruff man hands, I appreciate, cherish and have a hard time letting go.

My favorite blog and biddy namesake. The New Old Biddy Jennifer Eolin is hilariously funny and my all time favorite Project Runway blogger. If you watch the show, but don't read the blog you are seriously missing out.

David Sedaris books on CD. I want to be his friend and summer at his home in the French countryside. Plus I would never have my favorite pronunciation of “Aaaasssshooooole” or my go-to phrase, “You’re meeaan. And you’re uglyyy” in my vernacular if it weren’t for him, so. Yeah. He rocks my world. If he and Jim Gaffigan were major players in my life, pretty sure I could never complain again. About anything. Because my life would be perfect. Full of snark and bacon references.

Licorice. All you black jelly bean ignorers, I won’t judge you, but I will kindly ask that you save, instead of discard and send those suckers my way. Oh sweet deliciousness, if I had to live off one candy treat for the rest of my days I would choose the black jelly bean.

Styrofoam cups. Yeah, yeah. They’re bad for the environment, but I lurv them. And I will reuse them over and over, so hey. They can’t be all bad, right? Addition: Give me a restaurant with both Styrofoam and Diet Dr. Pepper (i.e. Subs n You, Chick-fil-A, and old school Zoe's), and you too shall grace the list of stuff I love.

Ah, happy Valentines to me...Surrounded by the things I love. Who or what are you appreciating this holiday season? (Besides the discount candy bin. That's on everybody's list.)

Table for one, please.

Yesterday the time came. I was down to cereal and pasta sides, both of which need milk that I don’t have, so on to Wal-Mart I had to go. (Not that I don’t like shopping. Or Wal-Mart. I heart both. But working makes me le tired…) Anyway, I’m not going to bore you with my list of boca burgers, Uncle Ben’s and powdered drink mix (Oh wait. I just did. My bad), but of my moment of realization and acceptance. I am the ultimately single girl shopper, and I like it. It all happened on the frozen food aisle when I was stocking up on veggies (I’m a single, sleepy biddy with an unstable job future and no dental insurance. I at least need to eat healthy, right? [Says the girl who likes to use her perfect brownie pan…and not share. But that’s for another more gluttonous blog]), when found Green Giant Just for One Veggies. Holy mother of all that is good and convenient, why yes, I’d love to use your handy steamer tray and fix a lovely portion of broccoli and cheese just for me. And you’ll keep the rest individually wrapped until I want it again? Well, danke!

Now, I’m bringing this up because I remember when “just for one”/individually wrapped/”bah ha, you have no one. Enjoy the taste of loneliness” products came out, I hated them. I thought they were depressing and would even give my shopping cart a complex. But the mindset has completely changed. Now I think, “Oo. I won’t have leftovers that I’ll forget about in the back of the fridge,” and “My Sam’s Club bag of broccoli doesn’t come with cheese sauce and a nifty tray!” I understand there are still disadvantages. Yes, the family-size lasagna costs about $6 and feeds eight and I can only buy two lean cuisines for that, but imagine the savings on Tupperware! And the fact that I’m not supporting all those stinking kids eating my lasagna.

This is the time to be selfish, yes? Some may say that it sounds like I don't have room for anyone else in my life or my cupboards (which, come on, is kinda true), but I'm of the mindset that someday I’m going to have stinking kids, and I’m pretty sure they won’t be able to fend for themselves while I’m perched on the counter eating my Thai garden boca burger. I'll actually have to cook a meal and serve it on plates. Now I get to nuke my Lipton's Pasta Sides in Tupperware, eat it straight out of the bowl and if I happen to have leftovers, pop on the lid and into the fridge it goes. Don't think my future family will appreciate eating out of the same giant bowl. As if it were a trough. For animals.

So fellow singles, embrace the just for ones while you still can. Someday we’re going to be up to our ears in price club purchases and family size potato au gratin, longing for the days of Lean Cuisine and single-serve Uncle Bens.

Viva la vie célibataire!

(Oh goodness. I can’t decide of the word for “single” in French reminds me more of “celebrate” or “celibate”… Let’s go with celebrate!)

This one hurt a little...

The home town dates have arrived! And they bring with them all of the glories that reality television can provide. Oh the humiliation. Oh the awkward confrontation. Oh the dead grandmothers. This is gonna be a bumpy ride.

We kick off the evening with a shorts-clad Jake (second cousin of the turtle-neck clad Jake). That global warming is a bitch... Or could you producers be stealing material from next week’s St. Lucia visit? I think you are. Especially after I saw Jake in a Rastafarian choker in a confessional. Jake doesn’t wear chokers. Jake bought that from a small child/old man peddling homemade/Korean-made goods to tourists as they hop off the fancy ocean liner. Seriously producers. Stop blatantly robbing Peter to pay Paul. It makes Peter sad, and also makes for pretty crap TV.

Back on track: Jake’s off to NYC to meet Gia and the fam. But before the evening of family fun commences we’ve got to take a boat tour and have Gia point out the Empire State Building. “It’s that one. With the pointy thingy on top.” Uuughh. It hurts a little. Then we forget all about the boat tour and move on to “Supermodel Documentary Hour!!”

I vas just walking down ze street one day and the man come up to me and he say, "Would you like to be a supermodel?". And I say "Oui" and ze next day I'm in New York on ze cover of Vogue.

What? You so know you remember it.

Yeah it’s a good thing you had that camera Gia. It’s not like you’re on a reality show. Being filmed. Constantly. But I guess there’s no other way for a photo montage in sepia tones, huh?

We finally meet Gia’s family. Mom’s in a very short dress. Her step-brother’s a Jersey Shore reject. Holy eye brows and hair gel, Batman! Jake doesn’t fit in with him. Jake, you should probably just go hide in the corner before brother breaks you. No, he was serious about that. Don’t laugh it off. Pocket-guido knows people. But besides the threat of being broken there’s no real drama. They like him. He likes them. It’s all good, take our daughter off our hands. Evening comes to an end doing one of Gia’s favorite things…Sitting on stoops. Really? I saw that flash of red Louboutin sole earlier. Pretty sure your favorite thing to do in NY is not sit on stoops. Jake asks the ever-clever-where-on-earth-could-he-be-going-with-this, “Ever kiss on a stoop?” Gia barely gets out “N” before Jake swoops in for that ever-passionate closed mouth neck nuzzler combo. Jake. Don’t rush your lines. Let Gia answer the way the writers want her to (because I’m pretty sure she’s had her share of stoop lovin). You look too anxious. Calm down.

Adios NYC and hello…whatever town Ali lives in. Apparently Ali was a ratard as a child and wished on falling leaves. That just doesn’t seem fair. I mean, when I was a kid you had to work for wishes: wait for a birthday, see a shooting star…She catches leaves. And wishes on them. This visit is gonna suck. Next Ali wants to introduce Jake to her grandmother. Who died before she came on the show. In my head all I can think is, “Please don’t take him to a cemetery. Please don’t take him to a cemetery.” Then I hear Jake say, “Oh this is cute.” My head: “Jake, please don’t tell me you called a cemetery cute. Please don’t tell me you called a cemetery cute.”

Turns out she’s taking him to dead grandma’s house. And…I’m sure this was special for her. And I’m just putting this out there. I’m calling “dead grandmother” the new “V Card” of reality dating shows. I would’ve put money on it that Jake would leave Ali without a rose this week. Ali, aka girl I think is awkward and hate now, confides in Jake that if he were to ask her to get married right now she’d say yes. Jump the gun much? You wait. Don’t put that out there. This game is not over, and you and grandma are hosting the welcome wagon to Crazy Town. Jake stares blankly and in either a moment of A) Passion or B) How do I make this girl stop talking?, kisses, pecks the nose and the awkward conversation is averted.

Oh, he also met the family. They all liked each other. Boring.

I don’t remember where Tenley lives, but they went there next. There are lots of trees and they walk through them… All of a sudden giant cups of cocoa and flannel blankets appear as if from no where (Why, danke, producers! I’m sure they appreciated that little treat). Tenley then takes Jake to her dance studio where she grew up (Really Tenley? You grew up there? Like you have a room? You kept your dollie collection there? Confused.), to show him a routine she choreographed just for him. And what do you know…it’s to Canon in D. The second most popular wedding march ever. Does somebody have a hidden agenda…? I think so! Ugh. Anyway, Ten goes on to exclaim how wonderful it would be to have someone to dance with forever!!! I threw up in my mouth a little at this point. What? No, really. What? Maybe the first marriage failed because Tenley never learned that real life isn’t like a Disney movie.

Jake meets the family and his generalities and vagueness astound me. I swear tonight he told us that “Family is very important to me” and “I was raised to do the right thing.” Well… Good for you. And thanks for opening up there, buddy. I mean, are you really going to say family isn’t important to you and you were raised to be a little shit? No. If you want these girls to “open up,” you’ve got to, too! There. I said it. You suck a little.

Anyway back to how the weepy Tenley home was brought to us by the color purple. Did anybody else notice?? So much eggplant!! Did they plan this? Wow. Well, I guess if any family was going to go Sesame Street, it’d be the Tenleys.

Oh lookie. Vienna’s here. Yay. She is such a child. And dressed like a Flashdance extra. Gah I hate her and her cockeyes. I pretty much ignore their boat tour. But it went something like this, “I love the water. This is my plaaaaace. Hope you can tie a knot!!! Oh m’gah a turtle!! It’s on a rock. I’m gonna throw you in if you’re bad!!!” Shut your face. We go on to find out that she’s done everything she wants to do and is ready to get married. Really? At 23? You’ve done everything you want to do? What is wrong with you?? Go back to school. Learn a trade. Roll pennies. I don’t care just don’t talk anymore and get off my TV.

Holy shit. I hate her tacky house. Her dad’s glasses have a constant glare and make him look like Mr. Magoo. Jake goes country to impress her dad. Really, Jake? Are you really from the Panhandle? Do you own an airbrush/henna tattoo shop? Why are you so strange and twangy?? Ugh. This visit is making me tired. But we do find out that literally, no one likes Vienna. Or has ever liked her. Her entire life. This is the norm for her. Geez. I think she’s really a Daddy’s girl because no one else can stand her. After an awkward make out session interrupted by Dad…He’s a peach. Like father like daughter…our Vienna visit comes to a close.

The last hour consists of weepy, drunk Ali. She tells Jake (after about 20 minutes of whines and cries) that she has to choose between staying here and going back to her job. She says she needs his help. But the way she said it…I was like, “Help…as in, with your rent? Because that’s what it sounds like.” At this point she can just leave. You annoy me. After her chat with Jake she mopes out to make her way back to her room, and apparently the pressure of it all has drained her of all her luster and energy and she absolutely has to collapse onto the hotel floor. Flopsy mopsy is an embarrassment. Boooo. Can’t believe there’s a whole 30 minutes left. And I know it’s going to be chock full of Ali drama.

I was right! Come rose ceremony, scruffy ragamuffin Ali asks host man to talk to Jake. Gaaah. Seriously? We just did this! I hate this show. Conversation went something like this. “Like like like buh whaah sad like uh love? Wuuuhh sad don’t know drunky drunk.”

Get the eff out.

Jake could care less about your incoherent ramblings and he does not appreciate the snot you’ve graciously wiped on his sleeve. That’s a nice suit, woman!

What I don’t understand is…Did she not think that if she “won,” she’d have to get a new job anyway? That was her ultimate goal, yes? Screw it and just get a new one. Hell, if you left your job for Jake and he didn’t pick you, you know you’d be a shoo-in for the Bachelorette. Reality TV could be your new job. People do it on Vh1 all the time. Use your noggin! Not just a hat rack, my friend. Oh squishy-face, sloppy girl, just leave. The best part of her hitting the road? No, not the crying or the absence of awkward rose ceremony. But this:

The most awkward stance in, well, possibly all of history. Both awkward and uncomfortable, it perfectly reflects what this show is. So let’s all take a moment. And appreciate that we are not a part of this world.

San Francisco: The City of Love and Rice-A-Roni

Well, another week has passed and I'm still the same ol' boring biddy I was last week. Recap: Work, work, work, drive home in rain, "Happy Birthday, Pooh!" (grandmother), typical Bassett family gathering (Men in one room. Women in another. Lots of chatter.), Inglorious Basterds (awesome), Sam's Club, drive home to Residence Inn, sleep, work, the Bachelor. And that's where we find ourselves now...

This week the gang is in San Francisco, which everyone is referring to as the "city of love", the "most romantic place on earth", the "place where my heart is exploding with love for my Flannel-Endorsed Brawny Man". I don't get it. Last I checked, San Fran was the home of cable cars, sourdough bread, the gay rights movement and earthquakes. The "City of Love" is Paris. The "City of Dirt, Subways and Broadway" is New York, and the "City of Rice" is San Fran. Ok, so let's look to the movies for guidance. Coming to mind we've got the Bachelor (aka, "No the other Bachelor. The one with Chris O'Donnell. Yes, before he was Robin to LL Cool J's Batman). And I do believe he runs down the streets of San Fran to escape the clutches of hundreds of brides.

Oh. Yep. I'm right.

Well, that seems to be right on target for this show, isn't it producers? Yikes...

Ok, then we've got Milk. That was in SF. Oo could this be foreshadowing ABC? Is next season going to be Bachelor on Bachelor? I'd support. Yay for all love!

And then we've got Zodiac and Copycat. Those are about serial killers. Very romantic.

But wait! I totally forgot. Full House. DJ and Steve were the all-time greatest love story. Ok. I get it. San Fran, you are indeed the city o love.

This week Tenley gets the first one-on-one date, and I can't believe this will be their first date. How is that possible? I've already registered them at Baby Gap for the children they are bound to have. Ok, the date starts and I can't concentrate because holy turtleneck, Batman! Oh Jake. We don't do that. If you're cold, get a scarf or man-up, because that is not going to fly around here. So, I'm highly distracted and concerned because I can't see that Adam's apple of his, but I do know that these have got to be the whitest kids in Chinatown. Ever. All this time I'm just hoping and praying they'll run into "Me Love You Long Time" where hilarity will ensue, but...No luck.

Cut back to girls in the penthouse suite. Gotta love network programming. If this show were on Vh1, they'd make them stay in the RVs. Or a Holiday Inn Express, but I digress. Ali continues to steam and openly express her hatred for Vienna. We get it. You don't like her. No one does. Here's a medal. This chick has got to learn to just be passive aggressive. Active aggressive makes you look horrid. No one will wear their "Team Ali" shirts, and there's no way you'll get your own season of the Bachelorette, so calm it down!

Ok. Back to Mr. and Mrs. Brawny. It's dinner time and this is a first date. First date, people, and we're talking about divorce and new theories on marriage, how would you treat me as a husband... Um. Tough Love and Patti Stanger have taught me that these topics are first date no-nos. Oh the mixed messages!!! I guess everything's different on net TV. All in all, they should go ahead and call the game. Vanilla pudding for the win!

The two-for-one date is back this week and this time it's with Vienna (bluh bluh we hate you) and Gia. Before their slumber party castle date they get to play dress up. An entire trunk full of clothes is at their disposal and they pull out the most confusing ensembles ever. Ever. Gia continues the turtleneck trend of the episode (except hers is backless. A backless turtleneck. It just doesn't make sense. Like a stripper wearing a cardigan...Strange and not really acceptable.), and Vienna closed her eyes, reached in and grabbed a sequin tank, wool scarf and tight rolled jeans. I just. I. But. I don't...It just hurts a little. Ok, judgment complete (well, with the outfits anyway), on to the date!

In that huge castle they apparently don't have a table because the dynamic trio are sprawled out on the floor for dinner. I mean, yes, it's easier to snuggle when you're surrounded by pillows and soft-lighting, but it makes it somewhat difficult to eat. If it were me in the situation, just go ahead and give me a drop cloth, because I'm going to miss my mouth and get salmon all over our comforter. Hey, nothing says love like a giant bib. Anywho, Jake and Gia go off for some alone time. And call me crazy, but I like her! They chat about falling. Gia asks if it's ok to. Jake says hell yeah. Neck nuzzling ensues. Oh it makes me giggle. I love the nuzzling. It's like I'm watching Lion King all over again...

Vienna gets bored. She doesn't want Gia's salmon, she wants her man, so she takes a little walk around the castle to find and disrupt whatever is going on. Vienna, you are a pall over all that is good and nuzzled. Unfortunately for her she get lost and scared (bah ha!), so not only does she not break up the love fest, she makes herself look like a ratard. This trend continues as she makes her way down to Jake's room in the middle of the night in a desperate attempt to throw herself upon the unsuspecting, half nekkid (his word, not mine) Bach. He's a good boy and sends her back up to her room sans lovin. Heh heh. Take that Vienna. Hope you like the taste of rejection because you were just served a heaping pile of it.

The Other Sister managed to get some, and she was a ratard. A ratard. (Oh for the love of Juliette Lewis.)

Oh look! Corrie's still on the show! Yeah. Zero camera time so far this episode. I was wondering if Jake had gone ahead and booted her out too after the cameras stopped rolling last rose ceremony. She gets the crap, left over date. "Hey, let's go to the park. We can walk. We can get a row boat. No castle for you." In said row boat, we've constructed a scene straight out of Little Mermaid (apparently this was a Disney themed episode...). Water. Awkward silence. Bird squawking. No kiss. Oh my, what a trainwreck of an encounter. And then she throws out a Hitch reference. Corrie, I don't like you anymore.

Then they get to go to a museum and eat with the fish. Romance abounds... Corrie throws out the V card. The true reality dating gauntlet. Jake seems fine with it. He's a nice boy, I'm sure this isn't the first virgin he's come across. Jake's no amateur in the PG Rodeo.

So it's rose ceremony time again. Jake's having a hard time this week because he's really "fallen for all the girls." Sure you have, hun. But it serves you right. There's a reason why we don't knock out four girls in one show (aka last week). You keep some losers around as a buffer, so you don't have to make these hard decisions so early. Come on, Jake! Get with the program.

Anyway, the girls are all lined up and I'm just wondering where the hairstylist is hiding. There's no way those up-dos did themselves... Anyway, I'm half paying attention because I know exactly how this is going to go down. Tenley, come on down-do you really need to doubt yourself? Ali (oh yeah, Ali got to take Jake around her San Fran. He got her flowers, they brunched, she was "so excited!!!" and expressed that a lot, ran into the ocean in her boots, spun around, happy times) of course you get a rose. Get your ass down there. Gia you're next. Jake wouldn't have said fall if you couldn't fall. He's not that big of an ass. Finally...Yeah Vienna, you get one too. Jake wouldn't have showed you his boudoir if he was going to kick you to the curb. Corrie, you're out. And no, it's not because you played the V card; it just took you too long to get there. If you had, I don't know, done something radical like talk to the boy three episodes ago, you might be further along than you are now. And he'd like you more. Than Vienna. But not Tenley, Ali or Gia. Sorry. Those are the real contenders.

Corrie is sent away in her limo and we've got a case of drunk virgin in the back seat. Yikes, it kind of hurts to watch. And on that delicious note, we call it a week. Until next time (with Vienna's psycho dad [Yes!]), happy TV dreams to all!