The Bachelor 15-2: Brad Womack and the Carnival Clowns

Turns out midnight carnivals at the ends of dirt roads that are mysteriously operating without employees come off less romantic… and more creepy and malevolent… than one might have originally guessed.

At any moment, I was expecting the carny romance blooming between Brad and Ashley H. on tonight’s Bachelor to be interrupted by a machette-wielding clown who, with the help of a midget in top hat and tails, chases our young lovers into the mirror maze where they’re both faced with visions of their impending multiple divorces and child support hearings.

But it didn’t happen.

The lead-off date for episode two of The Bachelor 15 involved some tedious exchanges near the Tilt-A-Whirl as The Bromack and The Girl Dentist compared deadbeat dads. This was followed by a couple of softball tosses at fluffy clown heads, and the obligatory make-out session on the ferris wheel after Ashley snagged the first rose of the night.

It didn’t make my heart skip a beat. Besides, what’s the challenge of throwing softballs at fluffy clowns when there’s no one else around? You can just reach over and grab the giant stuffed Pikachu and save yourself seventy-five cents.

I’m going to go out of sequence here tonight, because there was very little between the “Cougar and Dark’s Pandemonium Side Show” date that led off the show and the predictable Rose Ceremony at the end that wowed me very much.

And I was completely prepared for greatness. I even bought a brand new sofa from Crate and Barrel just for the occasion. I cranked up the fireplace, lit some jasmine scented candles, climbed into my Snuggie and readied myself to be swept away like I do whenever I’m taking a Calgon bath.

But it didn’t happen.

Oh, Bromack… your new contrite angle is wearisome already. Thank God your pecs are holding up (see below).

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The Bachelor 15-1: (Insert Name of Schmuck) is Ready for the Real Thing!

Brad Womack, the most hated man in Bachelor history (until Jake Pavelka flew into town, that is), returns tonight for another season of tight trousers, excessive cleavage and a wealth of crocodile tears the likes of which television has lacked since Skating with the Stars made the Lutz jump into a bottomless pit and took ABC’s Monday night ratings with it.

Womack’s ultimate refusal to pop the question to either DeAnna Pappas or Jenni Croft turned The Bachelor’s eleventh season into a bigger waste of time than the Pasadena Doo Dah Parade. No one got what they wanted: the hopeless romantics, the closet-case reality show watchers… actually, the gay male population may have exchanged a few high-fives watching the hunky tattooed Brad turn his back on 25 scheming, desperate women, but the gay male population is not exactly The Bachelor’s bread and butter.

So, someone thought it would be a good idea to give Brad the Cad another shot at TV love and along with it, TV redemption. That means that we’re in for a season of cyclical shaming and salvation scenarios as we watch Brad struggle to give the editors of The Bachelor enough pensive gazes and knuckle-to-tear-duct moments to weave him into a whimpering contrite Adonis and win back the hearts of ladies everywhere.

And unless The Bachelor wishes to alienate its core audience permanently, it’s safe to assume that this time Brad will indeed drop to one knee and sling a ring onto the finger of that one woman who can bring down the barriers surrounding his tender heart and show him the meaning of true love, respect and romantic equality. The only question left is… which woman it will be. The hot nanny? The Rockette? The professional manscaper?

On with the show!

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