If you only tuned in to tonight’s episode of Bachelor Pad because of the over-hyped live Dancing with the Stars “press conference” to announce the new season’s cast (did anyone see any members of the press? I didn’t.), you may have found the roster reveal a little disappointing. I however, did not. After being made to suffer through nearly ninety minutes of Bachelor Pad’s tired old plotting, catty remarks, hysterical ranting and romantic dialgoue so clumsy Joanie and Chachi would opnely snicker at it, I was, for the first time in my life, happlily relieved to actually see Bristol Palin’s face on my television set.
Yes, Bristol assumes the Dancing “I have no idea I’m being laughed at” slot most recently vacated by Kate Gosselin. The only way selecting her would have been anything other than completely tasteless and desperate would have been if Levi Johnston had been announced as one of her competitors. Not only would people across the country have turned each week’s episode into an absolute event (“Teen Mom vs. Moose Cock.. there can be only one!”), but little baby Tripp would have been spared the chore of having to repeatedly explain the complex mechanics behind his See ‘n Say “Counting with Mickey” pullstring toy to mommy and daddy for a few weeks in the fall.
But… there will be no War of the Wasilla Roses. What a missed opportunity.
But getting back to Bachelor Pad… last week, Cowboy Wes was singled out as the next one “heading for the chopping block,” a phrase the jacuzzi-going guys and gals on the show seem very fond of using, outshined only by, “There’s a target on my back!” and “No, no. I got that from swimming in a public pool!”
Poor Cowboy Wes. He threw in last week with Gia, who ended up getting the ax. The “couples” in the house continue to survive while the outsider “singles” are… well… going under.
Tonight’s challenge was only original in that it was a new low in humiliating the female competitors on the show. The residents of the Crab Shack were required to fill out surveys mandating they give “truthful” answers to nasty little fifth-grade questions about their housemates. They were then brought together and asked to reveal not who they themselves had picked as the answer, but to correctly predict who they thought collectively got the most votes for each question, in order to secure this week’s immunity roses.
With a challenge like this, there really wasn’t any way the cast could keep themselves from looking completely like assholes. But by far, the most humiliating moment had to be when they were all asked to reveal who they thought would be selected as the dumbest, and the overwhelming answer given was Grandma Gwen.
Work is kicking my ass this week. I’m not too thrilled to admit that I’ve been back on burgers and pizza for dinner. Shame on me. Please enjoy the fruits of my efforts below, the opening segment of my “Woop Woop Wednesday” show on GSN, and a delicious outtake after the jump. I’m hitting the kitchen hard this weekend, so get ready!
Three weeks into life at the ABC Crab Shack and the Beautiful People are proving themselves less and less attractive with each opportunity they have to open their mouths.
Unfortunately, as a result of this week’s kissing challenge, open mouths were about all we saw for the first half of the episode.
Though I admit that I was not as bored with this episode as I was with last week’s pie-eating fiasco, this week’s kissing challenge, where each girl and guy left competing on the show was blindfolded and made to make out with all of the members of the opposite sex and then vote for “the best kisser” proved to have a real “ick” factor I didn’t see coming.
Was it the over over-eagerness of Tippy Toes Tenley and David “Missing Baldwin Brother” David to flap their tongues out in the air like pez dispensers on death row?
Was it Natalie, who proudly stated, ” I would make out with everyone in the house for… like… twenty bucks”?
No, it was probably the teary-eyed Gia, who reminded us all, between her endless whimpering about having a boyfriend at home, that she’s not really all that keen on a mass-male face-sucking bonanza.
And frankly, the fact that Gia was experiencing a repulsion – fabricated or not – at the idea of having to make out with every single guy in the house, one after another, on camera, is actually pretty buyable, and it created an aura of realistic perversion from which self-proclaimed light-hearted summer programming like Bachelor Pad should avoid at all costs.
Only two episodes into ABC’s Bachelor Pad, and already, the tired old “sexy people in a house” story-telling formula is proving itself about as thin and obvious as the hairlines of the bachelors during the episode’s pie-eating challenge.
Not that summer programming hasn’t become routinely scintillating while relying on the same reality format everyone else is getting away with (set up alliances, show some skin, set up “secret” alliances, show people getting it on, present a Voting-Off ceremony no one could see coming because the pertinent information was not shown to us, dramatically announce that “the game has changed,” show someone crying, tease scenes from next week)… but come on! When the highlights from this achingly stretched episode are watching “Tippy-Toes” Tenley upchuck “challenge pie” into a bucket, and Weatherman Jonathan parading around in a speedo the likes of which I have not seen since the 1970s Battle of the Network Stars, something has really gone off the rails.
Not even the beautiful bodies, hot tub flirting, or a round of shower nookie could keep me interested. I’m sexier folding towels in the laundry room wearing my flip-flips and my 1997 DisneyWorld t-shirt.
In short, this week’s Bachelor Pad suffered from a severe “failure to titillate.”
I have not watched more than a single episode of any of the past seasons of The Bachelor or The Bachelorette, so I come to ABC’s new Big Brother-Bachelor hybrid, Bachelor Pad completely free from any bias against anyone in this group of sweaty, horny little squirrel monkeys.
I do feel badly for poor host Chris Harrison though. He may or may not have something more than a “Hollywood plain-face,” but we’ll never know it from this show. Compared to the never-ending parade of tens (and occasional nines admitted in for pure comic relief), Chris comes off looking slightly less appealing than Nanny McPhee. But they’re paying him well, so the guy shows up. Props to the host.
“They’ll be living in the same house!” Chris warns matter-of-factly before adding, “and sleeping in the same room!” with the obvious suggestiveness of a superior mom at her son’s third birthday party. “We have cake… and finger-painting!”
Image Credit: Kevin Foley
First to arrive at the house is Tenley… over-exuberant, runs-on-her-tippy-toes Tenley who squeals whenever she sees a friend from her season of the show… or a good-looking guy… or host Chris Harrison… or a cameraman wearing a cool belt… or a fresh stick of Doublemint. Designed to be annoying and ready to break into tears at a moment’s notice, she’s sure to be around for quite some time.
The more I watch Dancing with the Stars this season, the more I realize I’m only watching to catch the same high I get whenever I watch televised coverage of the Scripps National Spelling Bee. At first, I always trick myself into thinking I’m actually drawn in by the spirit of competition and the satisfaction of victory through a healthy application of study, drive and focus.
But the real reason I like to watch the Scripps National Spelling Bee is to watch a bunch of odd ducks in ill-fitting outfits drop off the stage, one by one, like they’ve got tsetse flies swimming up their undies.
As its season has progressed, and as we’ve bid farewell to the more embarrassing toe talents in the competition, Dancing has sadly lost all its own versions of third grade lip-dribblers, self-touchers, runny nose heads, and lazy eyes… and along with it, my interest.
Shannen Doherty… your fumbling we barely knew. Kate Gosselin… please prance around the stage one last time in utter confusion and terror. Jake Pavelka… was the amount of times you tripped on the dance floor equal to, or more or less than, the amount of times you took off your shirt? Ah, remember the good times?
The only thing Dancing has left to offer this season is that tiny inner circle of “savants” – those socially awkward, home-schooled pasty faces with facial tics who just keep spelling correctly – over and over – on and on – past prime time and bumping the local news into late night, endlessly employing that damn “silent e” rule to perfection until you wonder why you were ever rooting for them in the first place.
Erin Andrews, Evan Lycasek and Nicole Scherzinger take the stage tonight. All are comparable in talent (more or less), and are all paired with well-seasoned professionals who excel at hiding the deficiencies of their amateur partners.
I expected they’d all come off within reach of one another and that damn mirror ball trophy tonight.
And they did.
After all, we must have suspense until the absolute last minute.
But I don’t want suspense. I want clumsy footwork, total ignorance of rhythm and ill-fitting costumes that show too much of Niecy Nash’s “jiggly parts.”
Ah, Neicy Nash. I never missed my water ’til my well ran dry.
I need train wreck!
Bring on the next season of The Bachelorette… and fast!
Having said all that, props to Erin, Evan and Nicole. I’m sure they are working their tails off. And as far as the spelling bee plate-heads mentioned above, I would certainly have to count myself as part of their company. I couldn’t even get to the spelling bee county finals, much less anything that would ever be televised.
And, well, as you can see, I wasn’t exactly the epitome of cool in my youth. Read on, if you dare.
It’s season finale time, folks, and Brothers & Sisters once again promised big happenings, major plot twists, and according to this week’s promos, one… shattering… event!
And for the first time in a long while, Brothers and Sisters actually lived up to its own hype.
The promise that one of the cast was “not coming back” was a little too carefully worded, leading me to believe that it didn’t actually equal ”being torn apart by a pack of rabid wolves ON SCREEN so there can be no question about the character’s absolute demise,” which is my personal dream for Scotty (nothing against actor Luke McFarlane). “Not coming back” could have just as easily meant “leaving town for some made-up job opportunity,” which is always a let-down for a season finale, but a cheap cop-out device that is used way too often for me to dismiss it as a sincere possibility.
But tonight, B&S actually knocked someone off, and in a fairly impressive Highway 101 pile-up scene (I’m trying to remember if it’s actually 101 – I used to drive it from Orange County through Ojai and Ventura and into Santa Barbara during my college years, but that was a long time ago).
I didn’t even find it forced that all the major characters were on the road at the same time and in close enough proximity to crash into one another (for once, not figuratively).
Yes, there were a few eye-rolling moments (Did Saul really hear his HIV status for the first time on that call with Nora?), and a lot of filler (Justin and Rebecca, as usual). And considering how long we’ve been made to wait for the big secret of Narrow Lake, the fact that it’s just a lot of water was a huge letdown. If it took this long for Holly, Nora and Sarah to find it with their crack drilling time, and considering it’s truly “an ocean of water” down below, how was it so easy for William Walker to find it thirty-some-odd years ago and realize that he needed to purchase the land, pronto. Or am I missing something?
Whoops, I gave away a plot point before the jump. Sorry about that. I won’t give away any more until after. But just so you know, there’s a lot of water at Narrow Lake and everyone’s going to be rich. Ojai Foods just folded last week, and now the entire damn Walker family is worth more than they were before. I hate televsion.
Barbie and Ken have left the building. Yes, in the last two weeks, Bachelor Jake Pavelka and Prom Queen Pamela Anderson have been forced by you, the Dancing with the Stars home voters, to hang up their dancing shoes and wander back to Malibu to allow themselves to be “caught” cheese shopping in the middle of a Thursday afternoon by OK! Magazine.
Oh well.
Despite all the hype surrounding her joining the cast this season, Pam ended up in the bottom two more often than any other celebrity, so it was inevitable that she’d get the boot, despite being not half bad on the floor and giving the best smoldering volcano eyes of any female on the show against her.
As for Jake… he couldn’t dance much, but he knew where his bread was buttered.
A-hem.
And so, with Shannen Doherty, Kate Goseelin and Pam Anderson gone, the Dancing with the Stars Season Ten Dream House is left with a cluster of semi-celebrities and personalities whose names are often mentioned in the same breath with the phrase, “Wait, don’t tell me… I know who that is.”
That’s unfortunate.
Also unfortunate is the fact that the show itself continues to grow in length despite the dwindling number of competitors. And so, hurtling to next week’s semi-finals, we were forced last night to labor through even longer, overblown tape pieces, an unnecessary “future dance” from two dance professionals donning silver from head to toe like rejects from Mr. Freeze’s crime posse… and hostess Brooke Burke multiplying by seven hundred the number of times she glares at the camera and warns, “don’t assume anyone is safe.”
Yes, I was a little bored tonight. I don’t watch this show because I actually care about who will win a glamorous mirror ball trophy. I just like watching the tabloid grabbers. Kate Gosselin lumbering around the stage like an aged three-legged show pony was some of the best television I’ve seen in all of 2010!
And now that the evil axis of dancing divas has been totally eradicated, there are no more women that interest me.
Even worse, now that Jake and Aiden Turner are gone, there aren’t any other shirtless men I care to see.
But I’m in it for the long haul, watchers, eaters and drinkers, just like YOU!
And I’m praying for some surprises
Or at least a broken ankle.
And one more thing…
I’m sorry, but if Niecy Nash survives another week on this show, I swear I’m going to have to start my Monday night drinking two hours earlier, which means martinis on the treadmill.
Chad Ochocinco & Cheryl Burke – This week, all teams were required to learn two full dances. First up in the ballroom round were Chad and Cheryl. The double routine duty seemed to limit what Chad was able to master in the course of a week… and it showed! It was one of those performances you hold your breath through, not because it’s so good, but because it’s almost – but not yet – on the verge of being Cop-Rock horrific, and you just pray the performers finish before it implodes all around them. And thankfully, they did.
Chad and Cheryl were much more successful with their second dance – a jive that was definitely lively, even if it was drastically less ambitious. But Chad’s crushed blood red velvet suit with the zebra pattern lapels was a bit much. He reminded me of a third-string henchman from the Filet of Sole scenes in Live and Let Die (Google it… after you Google Cop Rock).
I think Chad and Cheryl are still in it, though. When they move right, it’s hard to take your eyes off of them.
TOTAL FOR THE NIGHT: 45
Niecy Nash & Louis Van Amstel – I like Niecy. Her sassiness is fun and has been a definite zap to the collective Dancing with the Stars frijoles.
But to take a page from all my Jewish friends… “Oy! HER I have to watch dance again??” (I probably shouldn’t mix Jews with Mexican food this late in the evening).
Anyway, the ballroom dance was again hindered (I’ll say it) by the fact that there is a definite weight imbalance between Niecy and her partner, Louis. Niecy needed to be paired with a taller male partner with a wider upper body. She’s been fighting an uphill battle all season (and really, that’s just a guess. What do I actually know about these things?).
But Niecy always musters through, and usually has a moment or two of flash in each dance.
Tonight though, there was none of that.
It was pretty… but not very ambitious, and certainly not the kind of performance that’s gonna get a so-so dancer into the final four.
Unfortunately, Niecy’s second dance, a nineties-style pasa doble, was even worse. In those yellow and black costumes, she and Louis looked like two bumble bees trapped inside a pinball machine.
The judges agreed.
Carrie Anne even referred to them as “bumper cars.”
Maybe Niecy’s fan base will save her again, but it’s pretty clear based on performance that the time has come for this team to go.
I don’t think I’ve ever planned my entire day around an impending episode of Saturday Night Live, but the first thought I had when I woke up this morning was, “Hey! It’s Betty White night!”
Somedays, life is easy… things go your way… birds land on your shoulder and chrip a tranquil tune. Other days, you’re stuck in the control room for an extra twenty minutes attempting to produce the GSN Live promo from hell!
My name is Gary Green. I am a writer and television producer living in Los Angeles, California.
I have been cooking with a serious desire to learn since fall of 2009. My goal is to make up for all the years of my adult life I spent eating meals that could be microwaved, pulled out of a paper box or delivered to my door in cardboard.
My emphasis is constantly changing... soups, gourmet burgers, chicken, dips, desserts. I am especially fond of the jalapeno pepper and use it in everything I can.
My kitchen is slowly piling up with new gadgets and utensils, and one goal is to learn how to make anything and everything without the majority of them.
Please enjoy my site and feel free to look around. I welcome recommendations, suggestions, tips, pictures, and questions always. If you'd like to contact me or suggest a new link for my blog roll, you can e-mail me at TvFoodAndDrink@gmail.com.
Poor Cowboy Wes. He threw in last week with Gia, who ended up getting the ax. The “couples” in the house continue to survive while the outsider “singles” are… well… going under.
Though I admit that I was not as bored with this episode as I was with 
Was it Natalie, who proudly stated, ” I would make out with everyone in the house for… like… twenty bucks”?
No, it was probably the teary-eyed Gia, who reminded us all, between her endless whimpering about having a boyfriend at home, that she’s not really all that keen on a mass-male face-sucking bonanza.
The more I watch Dancing with the Stars this season, the more I realize I’m only watching to catch the same high I get whenever I watch televised coverage of the Scripps National Spelling Bee. At first, I always trick myself into thinking I’m actually drawn in by the spirit of competition and the satisfaction of victory through a healthy application of study, drive and focus.
Ah, remember the good times?
Read on, if you dare.
But tonight, B&S actually knocked someone off, and in a fairly impressive Highway 101 pile-up scene (I’m trying to remember if it’s actually 101 – I used to drive it from Orange County through Ojai and Ventura and into Santa Barbara during my college years, but that was a long time ago).
Yes, in the last two weeks, Bachelor Jake Pavelka and Prom Queen Pamela Anderson have been forced by you, the Dancing with the Stars home voters, to hang up their dancing shoes and wander back to Malibu to allow themselves to be “caught” cheese shopping in the middle of a Thursday afternoon by OK! Magazine.
Chad and Cheryl were much more successful with their second dance – a jive that was definitely lively, even if it was drastically less ambitious. But Chad’s crushed blood red velvet suit with the zebra pattern lapels was a bit much. He reminded me of a third-string henchman from the Filet of Sole scenes in Live and Let Die (Google it… after you Google Cop Rock).
Unfortunately, Niecy’s second dance, a nineties-style pasa doble, was even worse. In those yellow and black costumes, she and Louis looked like two bumble bees trapped inside a pinball machine.
I don’t think I’ve ever planned my entire day around an impending episode of Saturday Night Live, but the first thought I had when I woke up this morning was, “Hey! It’s Betty White night!”
