I spuddle.

It’s neat how “Kasey” is only one or two letters away from KRAZY, isn’t it?  Except it’s not, really, because CRAZY and KASEY really only share an “A” and a “Y” so I’m already not making sense and I’ve only just begun to type.   Anyway, in my head, I call him “Krasey” which is funny to me only and so that’s why I’m the person sitting alone on my couch in my pyjamas drinking cold coffee and cackling like the drunk fool I saw on the first ten minutes of True Beauty which I accidentally watched because I was too lazy to turn off my TV after The Bachelorette ended and somehow my recording didn’t stop.

But back to reality, which is to say reality TV, which — this week — included a head cold because what is more real than dating with a head cold?   THAT, peeps, is a true indicator of love, much like rapelling down a building, bungee jumping, and photoshoots for InStyle magazine are a true indicator of love.   It’s all the same!  EVERYTHING IS A METAPHOR FOR LOVE!   And Ali has a cold!   But before the cold descends and transforms our heroine from — you know how when you’re talking to someone on the phone and you realize their voice is different than usual and slightly forced and they’re oddly repeating what you say so you realize that they are not alone? — she’s like that times 1000000, which I guess is fair enough because millions of people are overhearing her conversation.   ANYWAY, transforms her from that forced, weird Ali into a coughing, forced, weird, Ali.  That’s what I was going to say, BEFORE that — is any of this even grammatically correct?  I feel like maybe I had a stroke in my sleep without my knowledge because none of this sounds right — Ali has a one on one date with the Krasey.

Oh, but first they all went to New York so they could be sequestered in yet another “loft” apartment.  Are they not allowed to leave at all?  Because “travelling the world” is a lot more glamorous when you are allowed out of your room.    They’re sort of like her prisoners and you know how prisoners are always falling in love with each other, I guess that explains why they all “fall in love” with Ali, because they are allowed NO OTHER HUMAN CONTACT.   I mean, they went to the Lion King and had to sit in the lobby.   WTF?   Do they have a communicable disease?   Because I didn’t know that sordid dating reality TV show cooties were contagious.   My bad.   So now I’m working on a theory that this show works (ha ha ha ha) because it recreates the Stockholm Syndrome and Ali is like the captor because she comes to pick them up and maybe she also brings their food and shouts abusively at them when the cameras aren’t rolling.   Of course, Chris Harrison is there, too, so I guess it’s reasonable to assume that while most of the hostages will fall in love with Ali, a small percentage may come out with “I HEART CHRIS HARRISON” tattoos, which they are allowed to get because apparently being tattooed is the only reason why they are allowed to go into the outside world.

Speaking of which, oh my holy balls of Moses, what was UP with that tattoo?  But I’m getting ahead of myself and making no sense, so feel free to submit this post to my physician as evidence of when I lost my ability to think clearly and began rambling incoherently.

Can we get back to the recap?  OK.   Fine.   Ali has a one on one date with Krasey in which the following things happen:  a helicopter ride, a picnic outside because no restaurant in NYC would stoop to have their shop featured on The Bache-whore-ette, the single most awkward serenade in TV history, and a bunch of nonsense about hearts.    Apparently even the Museum of Natural History was loathe to be associated with this program, but reluctantly agreed to allow Ali and Krasey to scamper through their hallowed halls, but only if the lights remained off.   Mysteriously, they also provided a platform-bed that was covered with white shag carpet.   White shag carpet?  For real?    But where is the disco ball?  I mean, if there’s going to be a shagadelic platform bed, I want a disco ball.  Or, you know, LIGHTS.   I’m not really clear what happened next, there was a rose but Ali didn’t want to give it to Krasey.  On the other hand, the producers want her to keep him because they know she’s dropping Wee Willie Weatherman like a bad habit.   So they compromise and Ali doesn’t give him the rose.   ALI, HE IS NOT YOUR HUSBAND.    You know it, we know it, he doesn’t know it, but that’s because he is severely delusional and probably could stand some of that medication that they advertise on late night TV which features frolicking in fields and puppies and overly smiley people with good teeth.

Back at the prison chambers, I have no idea what the men or doing, nor do I care.

Up next, a group date!   What awkward product placement and performances will this “date” require?   AH HA.  I never in a million years would have guessed “Broadway musical” but there it is, a painfully awkward audition for the Lion King, which I saw in Toronto years and years ago, you know, when it was popular, and it was actually really fantastic.   The men are forced to sing and dance in spandex, and then the producer and choreographer kill themselves.   After they’re dead, somehow Ali and Roberto take to the stage, encrusted with leaves.   When I saw the show, they did not suspend any reality TV stars over the action but maybe they are trying some kind of new marketing gimmick suggested by the PR firm of Sordid Sordid and Desperate.    Then, of course, there’s the “wrap party” which again involves only Ali and the men, who are perhaps actually under house-arrest and fulfilling the terms of their parole by agreeing to be on this show and completely sequestered from society for a painful period of time.   I don’t know what happens on this group date, but I do know that Frank is about to get Ali’s head cold in a major way and I’m betting that Chris L. is not going to be bringing him any soup.    Somehow Kirk ends up tucking Ali into bed and thankfully that’s the end of that and no one got a rose, but Kirk got to get into bed with Ali which is probably better than a rose when you’ve been sleeping with a dozen or so hostile man-folk for several weeks.

Next up, a one-on-one with Chris L. but Ali is too sick to participate so he brings her soup and flowers and I drift off into a coma induced by the fact that actually watching Ali sniffle heroically like she’s overcome terminal cancer to hike the Himalayas in order to save a baby in a burning building is making me tired.   Somehow when I was having a conversation with Mr. Spuddle about where I will appear after I’m dead (not in a rainbow, peeps, too crowded in there), they end up going and gorging on seafood in a restaurant that is closed to the public because of the aforementioned sordid reality dating TV cooties and then they are canoodling under the stars to the dulcet tones of someone I’ve never heard of but was actually not the worst singer of our time or maybe just sounded decent because we’d just been forced to listen to Krasey singing the songs of lurve for FAR TOO LONG, ABC.  Chris L. not surprisingly gets the rose because he is the most normal human on the show.

Next up, the rose ceremony, but first Justin — who I’d forgotten about — starts whining about Krasey’s tattoo or “burn” and there was some nonsense about a hospital and I then I just went ahead and lay in the street for a while and waited for a bus to run me over to put me out of my misery, but no bus came, and then I remembered that they stop going by here after 10, so that was a disappointment.   Did I mention that when I woke up this morning, The Bun barfed on my mouth?  Well, he did.   Later, The Birdy pooped on the bathroom floor, and then to make it a Trifecta Of Reasons Why I Can Not Go On, peed on the kitchen floor.   I am awash with bodily fluids, not including sweat, but luckily Frank takes care of that for me and actually said, “It’s my time to shine!” which made me laugh so hard and so meanly that I destroyed my karma forever and actually that’s probably why Fate gave me that vomit splash as a wake up call.   I’m sorry, Fate, I’m really not a mean person, I just play one on the interwebz.

Ali eliminates Wee Willie Weatherman, who predictably cries and whines and I actually do feel badly for him because he has no idea that he’s just completely destroyed his on-air personality and will likely soon be unemployable and homeless.   She also bids adieu to Jesse who is from a small town, craves cows and acreage, and yearns to be alone with his dogs.    Oddly, she keeps Chris N. who isn’t actually on the show, but shows up at Rose Ceremonies to get his flower.   He must be in solitary.   Maybe he made a shiv out of his room-service cutlery or something.   Will he be allowed early parole for good behaviour?   Stay tuned for next week’s episode in which Iceland tries to rid itself of sordid dating reality TV show cooties by physically erupting.   Good call, Iceland!

Filed under: The Bachelorette