I spuddle.

This week’s gripping look into the lives of eight vapid humans begins with an overly long recap of the departure of the beloved Ed from last week, adding further credence to my theory that he is being primed to be the next Bachelor.   We’ll see who is Ms Righty McRight Right in a few short weeks.   Meanwhile, back in Jillian’s province of British Columbia, the remaining eight guys (only half of whom I recognize in this opening sequence — do people REALLY look that different when they wear glasses and neglect to comb their hair?) are told that only five will get home town visits.   I’ve watched this show since its inception and I’m pretty sure this is more than usual, but actually I don’t care, so I only mention that because I didn’t want it to seem that I was glossing over the fascinating production technicalities.    Never let it be said that I miss a trick, or even just an irrelevant detail.

I guess I was sort of grumpy when I sat down to watch this last night because my notes are all rife with the snark.   Or maybe it’s because I’ve realized that I actually don’t like Jillian at all and I’m finding this season very hard on my eyes — and rolling them so often sometimes causes Charley horse-type cramps in my eye-ball moving muscles and this makes me a tad snappish.   But enough about me.   Look!  It’s a train!   Yes, it’s the Rocky Mountain Express (or should I say, “Jillian’s Rocky Mountain Express”) chug-chugging across BC, a trip that looks as unbelievably gorgeous as it does nauseating (to those of us who get motion sickness).   The boys all chit-chat about how they’d be right chuffed to take Jillian home to meet their families.   For some reason when Tanner talks about his family, I picture them all to be shoes.   Like actual, person-sized shoes.    I know it’s not fair to make Tanner a one-dimensional character who is simply a walking, talking, breathing foot fetish, but that is what he is, and I cannot be blamed.   Either the producers have cut all footage (FOOTage!) of him discussing anything else, or that’s really all he discusses.    I’m suspecting the latter.

Jillian tells the camera, through her sobs, that she just wants to have fun and not have the boys take it all so seriously.   Then she sniffles a bit and wipes away her tears.   Hey, maybe JILLIAN should stop taking it so seriously!   But wait, she’s going to MARRY someone at the end of this trainwreck, right?   So maybe ALL of them should take it MORE seriously?   Just an idea.

The first date of the evening is a one-on-one with Robbie the Drinking Bartender.   Jillian appears wearing perhaps the ugliest sweater that I’ve ever seen, which doesn’t bode well for Robbie’s chances at continuing on the show.   Robbie confidently tells the camera that he’s sure he’ll get a rose, which further adds to my belief that there is not a snowball’s chance in hell of this occurring.   Their date opens with an extraordinarily dull segment where Jillian tries unsuccessfully to flip a drink canister onto the back of her hand during which time Clayton and I look at each other and for no particular reason burst out laughing.   Robbie then gets drunk, repeats himself a lot, and tells Jillian about his family curse.   Jillian, who is concerned only with whether he wants to be a father, persists in her line of serious questions, obviously part of her tactic to get the boys to all lighten up.   Robbie points out that “Love doesn’t have a job”.   Coincidentally, neither does he.    Jillian, who wants to live in a not nice house, should be all over this, but you can practically see her thinking, “GOODBYE ROBBIE.”   Turns out she kind of thinks that he DOES need a job.   Robbie is unceremoniously dumped off the train where an unmarked white van is waiting to take him away.  “I’m very bummed that I got kicked off a train just now,” he says, which leads me to believe that he’s been kicked out of a lot of places, but this is the first incident involving a locomotive.   He doesn’t mention Jillian.    Frankly, it would have been a better scene to have him walking down the tracks with all three of his giant suitcases, preferably into the sunset.   Although the white van did lend an air of shabby, low-budget mystery.   I secretly hope it was a gang of sinister reality TV producers spiriting him off to his spin-off reality show, Robbie Doesn’t Have a Job, in which he tries to figure out if he has any skills appropriate to any job in the actual, real world where people live and pay bills.   I can’t help but ponder if his family curse has something to do with the fact that all four boys live at home and are “between jobs” or if it IS actually a mysterious gypsy curse passed down through generations of unwed Robbie-relatives.   We will probably never know.

The most remarkable thing about the departure of our drunken non-hero is that Breakdancing Michael openly weeps when he hears Robbie is gone.    This is alarming on many levels.   I think the stress may be breaking down our perky puppy, which is disappointing, because he really is the only spark of life on this show.

The camera cuts to Wes, who in a somewhat predictable yet completely disgusting sequence, is talking about fame in much the same way that Tanner talks about feet.   He can feel it, he says, rubbing all over him with its soft skin and mango toenails.   He licks his lips and twiddles his own nipples a bit.   Oh, fame.   Wait, maybe the mango toenails was Tanner.   I’m all mixed up, but it doesn’t matter because Wes just wants all of America to know that he really really really like totally honestly really wants to be awesomely famous.   He ALSO thinks he’s really done all he needs to do because he’s been on The Bachelorette for six episodes AND he sang Jillian a song, one we all remember had only six words repeated in an endless loop.   Clearly he’s never watched the show, wherein there have been dozens of people who have both sung to the bachelor/bachelorette and lasted six episodes who are not even famous enough to get onto I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here.    And, actually, side note to Wes:  Just because we know who you are, doesn’t mean we’ll buy your album, because guess what?   WE DON’T LIKE YOU.    Wes finishes his strange sexual diatribe about fame and goes and wakes Jillian who was so obviously faking sleep that I want to yell, “Do another take, please!”  Because even Jillian, who can’t act her way out of a paper bag, could probably be directed to do a better job than that.   They make out for a while and then privately Wes confides to the cameraman (and Jillian, you jackass, she’s going to SEE THIS LATER) that he has her “wrapped around his slimy finger”.   Only he didn’t say “slimy”, I added that part.

Next up is a snowshoeing group date, the high point being when Tanner puts Jillian’s snowshoes on for her and then needs a cigarette and short nap.    Even her feet in winter boots work for him, which is nice, because it’s about as close to her as I suspect he’ll ever get.    Jillian and Jake do some canoodling in the snow while the others watch awkwardly and wish they were elsewhere, perhaps having their toenails removed by drunken bikers with rusty pliers while sitting in a pit of vipers.   But I’m just trying to make it sound interesting.  Overall the group date is dead boring, I won’t lie (because my name is not Wes and I’m not promoting my album, Real Men Tell A Bunch of Lies And Use People To Get Ahead).      If much else happened, I didn’t write it down.   I was distracted by the news that Jon and Kate are finally filing for divorce.   I hope she’s one of those women who celebrate divorce by changing her hairstyle.   PLEASE, Kate, PLEASE.

Meanwhile, back on the train, lonely Reid is drinking and getting advice from the train staff, who appear to be having more fun than they’ve ever had before, leading me to believe that working on a train is dull.   Reid, who is like the Bridget Jones of men, is worried about what to wear, whether glasses are more flattering than contact lenses, and if he should tell Jillian that he could fall in love with her if only she washed her fruit and veg.

Back on the date, Tanner is laciviously rubbing Jillian’s feet and ignoring what she says, frequently interrupting her to advise her that she has very soft toes.   Kiptyn confides that he really only likes girls who like him first and he doesn’t know how she feels about him, so… Jake tries to tell Jillian that he luvs her, like really really luvs her, but he’s interrupted by the rest of the men who somehow trap Jillian inside and force her to look at Tanner in a black elastic belt and skivvies.   That all may have happened in a different sequence, I’m not really sure because I was not paying attention, instead I was uploading pictures of my kids at the new Shaw Ocean Discovery Centre in Sidney, which really is worth the money, I don’t mind telling you, if only for the cool jellyfish.  I’ll post those pics later, and I’m sure they will be more entertaining to you than this summary of the Group Date.   Jesse and Jillian make out.  Michael and Jillian roast marshmallows.   I notice that the producers never give Michael an opportunity to do anything adult, such as dry hump with Jillian in a hot tub.   With Michael, it’s all marshmallows and footie pyjamas, except the part about the footie pyjamas, I made that part up.

The group date temporarily lacks Jillian, I don’t know where she is or what she is doing or where she bought whatever she is wearing while she does it, but the men are sitting around and talking and Tanner confesses that he’s the one who told Jillian about the girlfriend-haver.   Wes gets overly defensive and says a number of asinine things, including “Real men don’t tell the truth” and “I’ve got the exposure I wanted.”   Apparently, what he wanted was to look like an asshole in front of a nation.   Way to go, Wes!

Now we see that what Jillian was in fact doing was getting into a bikini because there is a hot tub looming.   Jillian plus… six guys?   In one hot tub?   Should this be on cable?   I’m worried, but as it turns out all she does is give Kiptyn the rose.    The other men look furious, as though they are contemplating exactly how long they’ll have to hold him underwater before he stops breathing.    Or maybe they’re just bummed because Jillian keeps her distance and doesn’t appear to be giving anyone any kind of below-the-surface Hot Action.

The show wraps up with a one-on-one with poor neurotic Reid, who really is struggling to stay somewhat sane.   He survives a panic attack about fondue and then makes out with Jillian gamely, even though we know the fact that her mouth is filthy from kissing everyone else in a ten-mile radius is making him want to rinse with hydrochloric acid right afterward.    All his insanities actually make me like him more, because he’s proving to be a lot like me, i.e. in need of medication.    Jillian points out that although she had a list of qualities she was looking for in a man, she’d throw it out if she met the right guy, which was a weird way of saying that he met none of her requirements.   In spite of Jillian’s claim to “quirkiness”, I suspect her list looks like everyone else’s, something like:   Kind, Funny, Good-Looking, Successful, Not A Serial Killer.     Reid correctly interprets this as an insult and points out that most women he dates are blonde and pretty, i.e. not like her.   Game, set, match.   Jillian gives him a rose.

Finally, we’ve reached the Rose Ceremony.   Jillian dumps Tanner and Jake, both of whom are SHOCKED beyond recognition.   Neither tell her on the way out about Wes, who tells the camera he is there for fame and not the girl, in case we missed the previous twenty-seven times he said the same thing in different words.   Next week, SOMEONE IS IMPOTENT.   Rumour says it’s Kiptyn, but oh please, please, please let it be Wes.   And Jake returns to CONFRONT WES ABOUT HIS DISHONESTY.   And, also, SPAIN.   But that isn’t next week, is it?  These teasers are so confusing.   Next week is the hometown visit week, where Jillian will crawl under a rock to visit Wes’ family, I mean, Wes’ band.    One can’t help but wonder if Wes is for real or of he’s a character dreamt up by the producers to keep people watching, just because we are hoping that a passing plane accidentally drops a rottweiler in a cage out of the luggage hold and it lands smack on his head while he strums his guitar lovingly, oblivious to his imminent demise.   I only hope he has Geico, just in case.

And I’m out.   See you next week, my pretty peeps.   Or tomorrow if you want to tune in to hear about my exciting echocardiogram and the Most Humorless Person Alive.

Filed under: The Bachelorette