I was planning to eat a great big homemade pizza tonight to celebrate the premiere of Sean Lowe’s season of The Bachelor. Then I saw the Texas Toehead in the first few minutes of the show with his shirt off doing some arm curls… and then some sprints, and then just kinda standing there and letting the noonday sun shine down on his sinewy torso. Now I’m off human food entirely. I’ll be maintaining a strict diet of Ex-Lax and enriched Petco cat grass until I see my own abs, or my own death.. whichever comes first.
It’s kinda messed up for ABC to be parading Sean’s studly physique across our television sets this soon after Christmas, don’t you think? No less than three weeks ago, I had about an inch of fruitcake under each of my fingernails and was fishing surprise gingerbread crumbs out of the folds in my pants. Michael kept asking me why I was wearing my super stretchy bedtime shorts around the house everyday and I casually replied, “Oh, I’m just being lazy,” when in fact they were the only thing I owned I could get around my waist that wouldn’t cut off the circulation to my brain.
If ABC had decided to go with me as the new Bachelor instead of Sean, I definitely would have gotten my shit together before the start of the year. I’m talking twenty push-ups every morning and no skipping the gym to sit on the couch and watch thirteen hours of the Match Game marathon on Game Show Network. But the network didn’t go with me, they went with Sean. Even though we’re really not that different. Sure, he wants a house filled with a loving family, and I want a prize wheel for my dining room table. He’s willing to put his life on hold to find the woman of his dreams, and I spent half my weekend scouring E-bay for one of those sleeping caps like the kind Fred Mertz wears with the giant fuzzy ball on the top. And I also suppose Sean doesn’t go to bed at night wearing something he calls “super stretchy bedtime shorts.” But other than those specifics, he and I are practically mirror images.
Because drama or no drama, The Bachelor has to fill two hours of television time each week, we’re often subjected to a variety of “filler techniques” before we get to the drunken debauchery we’re all actually tuning in to see. And by far the worst of these devices is when the show trots out another cast-off from a previous season to provide counsel to our current love-seeker. So Sean sat down with Arie, the guy who outlasted him by just one elimination ceremony on Emily Maynard’s season of The Bachelorette. Arie gave our Texas Toehead tips on how to say, “Will you accept this rose?” but I’m guessing Arie’s had more experience saying things like, “I’m sticking with this haircut!” and “Well it’s two am and I just live around the corner… so what do you say?”
Arie is a decent enough looking guy, but he’s definitely not in Sean’s league. He also always seemed terribly under-confident and unskilled when he kissed Emily on camera, furthering the rumor that he isn’t a man but actually a sex robot still in Beta phase. Nevertheless he killed eight minutes, during which I re-considered and went ahead and made that pizza, so I suppose Sean and I should both thank Arie for tonight’s appearance.
Now let’s turn our attention to the ladies. What would The Bachelor be without them? Well, it’d be Arie and Sean sitting around on patio furniture, drinking beer and debating how much tongue is too much tongue. So I guess we need them.
First up is AshLee F., the professional organizer. When she’s not looking for true love, she’s coming to your house to pour all your open bottles of shampoo into one great big bottle, then putting the six cd’s you still own into alphabetical order. She’ll also place all the printer paper with three holes into its own stack, and then put the baking soda on one end of your fridge and the baking powder on the other. She looks forward to settling down and making sure her husband never accidentally pops an antacid that has gone past its date of suggested use. Line forms here, gentlemen.
Next up is Jackie the cosmetics consultant. She wants to place “her mark” on Sean so she puts on lipstick and presses her lips against his cheek. I’m curious… is the process of putting on lipstick always this clumsy looking? It was difficult to watch. If Jackie had eaten the lipstick when she was done and then pulled a little hat off her head and offered it to Sean so he could put in a nickel, I would not have blinked.
It’s Kelly the Cruise Ship Entertainer! She’s in that show you go and watch on the final night of your trip because limbo and “hairy chest” contests have finally lost all their glamor.
If you’re Robyn and you try to perform a series of backflips over to the nearest hot guy, but you land on your head wrong and the dress you’re wearing flies down around your waist, it’s considered wacky and brave. When I do it, I get kicked out of altar boys.
Amanda is a Fit Model. Not a Fitness Model. There’s a difference. (Shut up! There is!)
Lacey is a Graduate Student, and she tells Sean a lot of people like to call her “Lace.” We won’t hold our breath for that dissertation.
A JumboTron Operator?? Hello Paige! She tells Sean she was on Bachelor Pad 3, but no one remembers her. If only the world could come up with a device that had a way of really burning things into our brains so it would be super hard for us to forget them.
Tierra made such a faboo first impression that Sean gave her a rose right then and there. Sean hoped that it wouldn’t cause any tension in the house, but when Tierra walked in waving the rose around, all the other women basically looked like they’d just been informed of a necessary root canal.
Hey look! Leslie M. brought a football!
Leslie: “I was thinking we could run a little play!”
Sean: “I’m gonna snap it and we’re gonna go from there.”
Leslie: “I’ll be the quarterback. You play center. Just wait for my call.”
Jimmy Kimmel was half over by the time I Googled all the words I didn’t understand.
Filling the obligatory “Girl Who Isn’t Here to Make Friends” Slot is Kristy the Ford model. Kristy loves being in the spotlight and fully expects the rest of the girls will be jealous of her.
Meanwhile, Rupaul’s Drag Race doesn’t start up again until the fall, and Sugar Suppository needed something to do in her off-season, and there’s no genital check on The Bachelor, so…
Lindsay is a substitute teacher and showed up in her wedding gown. I’m told the only thing heterosexual men like better than a woman who shows up on a first date in a wedding gown is a woman who shows up on a first date with a Powerpoint presentation detailing the chaos peri-menopause wreaks on the ovaries!
Lindsay wasted no time jumping from traditional wedding activities to traditional reception activities. She got drunk. She hung off her man. She called her bridesmaids jealous hags when they weren’t around. She accused her step-mother of trying to steal “her day.” She flashed her panties to the little ring-bearer kid. Then she engaged in pitiful, half-formed conversation the likes of which we only get on The Bachelor or visiting day at the psych ward.
Lindsay: “Can I give you a kiss on the cheek. Or are you Mister Traditional?”
Sean: “Uh, maybe a little more than you are.”
Lindsay: “I swear I’m a good girl.”
Sean: “I’m sure you are.”
Lindsay: “When it all comes down to it, I think we might have the same morals.”
Sean: “Well good… I’m glad. Say listen, I’ve got a few more girls to talk to, so…” (shuffles away and drops his visitor ID badge in the trash).
Despite this behavior, I’m happy to report that Lindsay was not, in fact, the most blotto chick in tonight’s fairy tale. That title went to Ashley P.
In her tape package, Ashely P. claimed she has no idea why she’s still single. “I’ve even actively searched for a man!” she boldly confided to her cat, Mister Unabomber. Plus, she’s read Fifty Shades of Grey and is dying to re-enact some of it with Sean. “I totally hope Sean rips my clothes off and spanks me!” she announced as she put the finishing strokes on Mister Unabomber’s oil portait.
Ashley P. knows the first rule of party-livening. When you jump up and scream, “Do we need me to start dancing?” and no one answers, that’s as good as a “Oh hell yes, bitch. You go on and drive that beat!”
And so Ashley P. started gyrating around the house, the way one might when desperately trying to liven up the vacuuming. The story never ends well for this kind of girl, does it? Had Ashley P. shaken her rear end in Sean’s face without cameras around, he would have been more likely to respond enthusiastically. Instead, our Gentle Texas Toehead played upstanding citizen of the month and gave Ashley the boot.
Downside: Ashley P. suffers the horrendous embarrassment of being sent home on the first night. Upside: Mister Unabomber gets his bubble bath buddy back.
Going into the Final Rose Ceremony, nearly half the girls had already snagged a flower thanks to Sean’s breaking the rules and handing them out fast and furious during the cocktail party. Wedding Dress Lindsay also ended up booking passage to next week along with Mega-Organizer AshLee, HeadStand Robyn and Ford Model Kristy.
Among those packing the van for a ninety-minute drive back to Glendale Airport were…
Jumbotron Paige: “I’ve been on Bachelor Pad. I’ve been on The Bachelor. And I’ve never gotten a rose. That sucks.”
Kelly the Cruise Ship Entertainer: “It’s like the most embarrassing thing ever. I want to be in love but… is it really worth it to have to feel this way?”
And Sugar Suppository: “Giiiirrrlll… I’m serving fish! And it ain’t trout, honey!” (Translation unavailable).
And that’s it for our inaugural week of Bachelor 17. I went ahead and ate that whole pizza by the way. I figured there was no reason not to, as Bachelor 18 won’t be on for a full year, so I’ve got plenty of time to get ripped before ABC calls. “You might also want to use some of that time to find a job, ” my mom said. “Men who have jobs are much more appealing.” I’ll take that under advisement, but really what does she know? She’s been married for 55 years and she’s never watched a single season of The Bachelor. She doesn’t know how love works.