I spuddle.

This is late because after I watched the show last night I was so exhausted from having to pay attention to the details (I actually took notes!  Like it was school!) that I fell asleep.   Or at least I went to bed.   Then I couldn’t sleep.   I kept worrying about stuff like, “What if when we’re camping a madman storms the campsite and shoots all of us in the head with a hunting rifle?”  And “If I had a choice between rapelling down a skyscraper and having all my teeth plucked out with pliers and replaced with broken glass, which would I choose?”   You know how it is.

But that has nothing to do with Jillian Harris’ quest to find The One on the smash hit reality TV show, The Bachelorette, which I did watch last night without the aid of pink wine (yeah, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking either) in order to bring you this post this morning.    The show started off badly with altogether too much footage of Jillian being happy.   I’ll bet that when she walks through the room, she makes the kind of squee sound that a balloon with a tiny puncture makes.    I think at this point she just can’t contain that level of high strung glee.   Twenty-five men!  Or however many there are!   All here for Jillian!  JILLIAN JILLIAN JILLIAN!   Even though she’s not blonde, fake breasted, and 5′ 5″!   (Really?  Is 5′5″ the ideal height or simply just the height of most of these bachelors?   How tall is Jillian anyway that 5′5″ sounds glamorous?)  Except, as we know, they are not here for her, they are here because they want to further their recording careers.    If by “they”, I mean “Wes” but I’m skipping ahead.    Sorry about that.   I get so excited, I can’t help myself.

After we get past Jillian’s glee and her bikini — which is the same one that I actually had when I was 8 (in 1978) (It looks better on her, but keep in mind, I was 8.) — we see the men being introduced to their bunkhouse.   Apparently none of them had been savvy enough to watch previous episodes of the show, so had NO IDEA what they were in for.   Quelle horreur!   I love that the bunks look like they were made for children and that if any of them roll over, they will likely land on each other, a fate that may actually please some of them who appear to have not yet noticed that Jillian is a woman.   Honestly, I’d be lying if my first thought when I saw that bunkhouse was not about farting.   Men fart.   In their sleep.   They just do.   Twenty men in two hundred square feet?   Makes me think about that urban legend about the guy who farted his wife to death.   It’s true.   Well, it’s true that it’s an urban legend, not that it happened.   But still, that’s a lot of methane.

Where was I?   Let’s skip ahead to the first group date.   There are a bunch of guys and Jillian, who is once again shocked!  And awed!   She is the ONE woman at a party with EIGHT men!   How did this happen?   HOW DID IT HAPPEN?   Well, Jillian, first you auditioned and then you got the part.   It was something like that.   Anywho, not much is shown of this date except for the gratuitous bathing suit shots of both the men and Jillian, whose hair is mysteriously dry then wet then dry then wet.   No idea how long that shoot party went on for, but I’d say long enough that those bathing suits would be starting to chafe.   Speaking of chafing, all of a sudden, in the middle of an awkward one-on-one with the over-eager Michael (who disappointingly did not breakdance), Jillian grabs the rose and drives away.  Drives away!  In her bikini!  A move that just screams, “I want a yeast infection!”   We were all on the edge of our seats!   Oh, Producers, what excitement do you have in store for us now?   I could hardly breathe through the commercials.   Oh, I lie, I was watching it on PVR, so I fast forwarded through them and perhaps the first bit of the next segment in which the men (still chafing) smashed open small boxes containing keys and went speeding out onto the highway.    It was like Survivor, only stupid.

As though there were not already enough testosterone in the bunkhouse, this race seemed designed to both emasculate them with its lameness (rose flags? minis?) and drive them into a competitive frenzy.   The bickering between the teams of men was so boring, I’ve forgotten most of it, but have retained that Brad believes himself to be the brains of the operation.    I remember this because he said it so many times, I was beginning to believe he was a robot programmed only to say just this while licking his overly red lips.   He may be dehydrated.   I think that’s a symptom.  At this point I would also like to add that it’s impossible to see Tanner on the screen without worrying that he’s going to leap out of the screen and start licking your feet.   As the show wears on, he’s starting to look weakened, like a vampire who needs blood, only he doesn’t need blood, he needs FEET.  I’m a bit worried about what will happen to him if he does not get his fix.

There is a bunch of embarrassing awkwardness — Michael is so excited that he “peed a little bit in my bathing suit.   I wish I hadn’t have done that.   I look like a little kid at Christmas.”   Yes, a kid who isn’t toilet trained, Michael.   Maybe the show should supply Depends.   The teams posture and hurry and shriek and scream like a mixture between The Amazing Race and a Duran Duran concert, circa 1986.  Wes and Brad arrive first and bicker between themselves like an old, gay, married couple about which necklace is most tasteful.   I can tell you that the one they picked was not it.   Jillian is elsewhere, presumably finally getting to change out of that damp bikini.  Oh, yes, there she is.   Luckily the jewelery store apparently comes equipped with hair and makeup people and a dressing room.   Apparently the jeweler doesn’t actually trust Jillian with the necklace, however, because her “date” is to take place in a locked vault.    For reasons unimaginaable, she chooses Wes (her radar for complete assholes apparently on the fritz) as her date.   I hope he isn’t claustrophobic.   Actually, I hope he is because that might be more entertaining.    As I’ve watched the preview for the season, I know that Wes will later turn out to have a girlfriend, but even that seems irrelevant as I’d be surprised if Wes ever dated anyone who is not Wes.    Wes has a nice time on his dinner with Wes, relishing his Wes-ness and apparently believing himself to be quite the player in spite of the fact he stole Dana Carvey’s hair from SNL.

During this painful date, we are treated to a commentary by the unchosen ones, who point out that Wes is not there for the right reasons.   This phrase is usually uttered about one kajillion times per season, but this merits special mention because it’s the first time we’ve heard it THIS season.   If you are playing a drinking game, drinking when someone mentions the right reason is always a good idea if you want to be so blotto by the end of the episode that you’re vomiting in the potted plant beside the couch because you’re too drunk to stagger to the toilet.

Wes nicely concludes his date with Jillian by saying, “This whole scenario is all about me.”   Ah, Wes.   Indeed.   That’s why it’s called “The Bachelorette”.

After a night spent alone with Wes during which time Jillian almost assuredly exercises Bad Judgement, she heads out for a one-on-one date with Jake the pilot, who dons his best pleated Dockers for the occasion.   Not to worry, the producers have a whole change room of costumes for him to get into in an effort to get those pleats off the screen before we all gouge our eyes out with our remote controls.    Jillian wonders if he’s going to loosen up at all, and she’s rewarded for her curiousity by strip show which includes gyrations that make me question whether Jake maybe has a side job for which his paycheque is stuffed into his G-string in individual bills.    Jillian totters around for a bit in red boots that she cannot actually walk in, making her resemble The Birdy when she steals my shoes and clomps around the house in them.   The resemblance ends right around the time she hops up on the bar and starts to do a Coyote Ugly number, apparently living out her long-time fantasy of being a slut.   Jake, who considers himself a gentleman, does not look up her dress.   Wow.   That’s some kind of restraint.   He seems pretty proud of this, though, so I guess I’m happy for him.    The date was pretty boring and predictable.   Jillian has proven to be a girl who falls in love with effectively everyone, so as predicted, she falls in love with Jake and does not even seem repulsed when — in the middle of her sentence — he throws himself across the table and starts trying to suck out her tongue.   Maybe she was choking on it and he saved her, but she didn’t appear to be in any distress.   The entire move made me think of those guys in that fish market in Seattle who chuck the fish around.   I don’t know why.   I’m just saying.

Martina McBride sings some songs but really I’m not a country fan so I may have drifted off for this part.   There was dancing, they had chemistry, etc.   I’m boring myself.   I’m sure they make a nice couple and will live happily ever after or until Jillian falls in love with the next guy after the commercials.

Which, indeed, she does.    The next group date is one in which they will “play ball”.   Ball being basketball.   This date includes David, whose barely contained rage this entire show has become something of a concern.    How much further can David be pushed before he punches someone, if by “someone”, I mean “Juan”?   Not far, methinks.   He is one angry kid.   (And what the hell is this “Man Code” he’s talking about?   Does it specifically say that dumping your shot instead of drinking it makes you a “snake”?)   Setting him up to play sports just adds to his fury, he’s the best basketball player, everyone else sucks, he hates Juan, and also isn’t he good at basketball, and hey, the Harlem Globetrotters  picked him, and also Juan may need a restraining order soon himself because David is going to punch him or maybe tie him to a tree and THEN punch him.   I wonder if the show screens for Anger Management Problems.   Apparently not.   Did I tell you about that cool leather coat my mum recently gave me that she wore in the seventies that is only slightly too small in that my arms are six inches longer than hers and I’m about a foot taller?   Anyway, in the pocket of the coat I found a ticket stub from a Harlem Globetrotters 1979 performance, which makes the coat even cooler in my estimation.

What else?  I’m just happy at this point that they’ve stopped subtitling the British guy.

My attention wandered during this part of the show.   I ate a toasted English muffin with butter AND peanut butter.   So good.   I may just eat another one right now.   I went a long time without eating peanut butter because I didn’t want to give the kids peanut allergies and I’m allergic to all kinds of things so they were at high risk.   I have to eat a lot of peanut butter now to make up for the peanut butter I didn’t eat (but really really wanted) during my pregnancies.

But back to The Bachelorette.   Jillian has some alone time with Juan.   There is kissing, but I must have been eating because I missed it.   I think Juan seems like a decent guy and I must have been going pee or picking the lint out of my bellybutton or something during all the scenes where he incriminated himself.   Jillian goes on to have alone time with Kiptyn.   I did watch this bit but got so bored that I started fantasizing about knitting and how hard could it be? And maybe I’ll take it up because I really like the look of handknit sweaters.    I don’t know why I was thinking about knitting.    Maybe Kiptyn’s personality made me think of wool.    Then, shockingly, Jillian gives Gino Vanelli a rose, which is neat because I didn’t know that he was a) still alive and b) on the show.   Oh, they keep calling him Michael.   Maybe he isn’t Gino Vanelli after all.    Gino would be at least sixty by now so that wouldn’t make sense anyway.    But black cars do look better in the shade, Gino, they really do.

Gino Vanelli Michael and Jillian jump into a shallow pool to celebrate, jarring themselves badly on impact.   I hope they didn’t suffer spinal injuries.    And also, maybe the producers should have told them that the pool was only five feet deep.    Really more of a wading pool than a surface into which you should dive if you hope to avoid parapalegia.

Finally we get to the Rose Ceremony.   So dramatic!   The most dramatic ever!   Except it isn’t dramatic, it’s all a bit dull.    Jillian is so FUN she’s starting to give me a headache.   Does she ever unwind?   Is the squee of her balloon air of joy EVER going to run out?   Let’s hope so.    Next week, remind me to stock up on pink wine.    Really, wine is a very important ingredient of this show if you plan to watch it and blog about it.   I’ve just realized that and it’s the next morning and I’m typing this up from my notes and I usually don’t drink in the morning but may just make an exception right now.   My notes say things like, “Wes is an asshole!”   “Nice mullet, pal!”  “Wes is such a dick, seriously.” And “Tanner molests her feet.”

Yawn.

There is a voting segment where the men predictably vote to get rid of Juan and Jillian predictably saves him.   Then Jeff Probst jumps onto the screen and says, “I’ve nothing for the rest of you.   Grab your torches and go back to camp.”   Oh, wait, wrong show.

Where am I?   What happened?   Why is this show two hours?

Because I like to keep you abreast of the actual facts,  I will tell you that Jillian keeps the following people, arranged in order of their likelihood to become Jillian’s husband The Next Bachelor:

Jake the stripper, Jesse the winemaker, Ed the guy who wasn’t featured on this episode really at all, Kiptyn, Dancing Michael, Sascha of the Hairy Feet, Gino Vanelli, David the Psycho, Mark (who IS Mark?  Never seen him before), Reid the realtor who looks like Sean Penn sort of but not really, Brad of the Brains and Red Lips, Other Tanner, Robbie the Bartender, and Tanner the Creepy Foot Guy.

Is it time to drink now?   This post is making me thirsty.

The men she got rid of were mostly men I didn’t recognize at all, so I can’t say that I’ll miss them because I most certainly won’t.

Now I have to wind this up because the kids are climbing all over me and The Birdy keeps typing the letter O because it’s the only letter she knows while shouting O O O O O O O O over and over again so all the o’s that are in this post that do not belong are not a wacky Canadian spelling, but rather just her creativity at work.   The Bun is using an electric toothbrush to clean my ear, which is v. annoying but luckily it seems to be running out of batteries.   The toothbrush that is, not my ear.   My ear does not take batteries.    It is blocked though, because I have a cold.   Speaking of batteries, The Birdy has just dropped a D-cell on my toe so I really have to wind this up very quickly by saying, wow, next week they are going to zipline off the top of a building, I really would never do that so it’s a good thing that Jillian is The Bachelorette and not me, and that’s true for a multitude of reasons including that I would look awful in that bikini and I would have refused to wear it all day like that because, well, I don’t like the itch.

See you next week, same bat time, same bat channel.   How we’ll wait a week, I don’t know, but let’s try to get through it, shall we?

Filed under: The Bachelorette