Muchos Besos

I love Episode 3 each season.  Such a wonderful convergence of adrenaline, estrogen, and angst.  It rarely disappoints.  This time around we get a pool party, so you know it’s gonna be a good times.

Of course we’re still hanging around L.A. which means we have less travel distractions and can really dissect these ladies with surgical precision.  Sometimes, though, they implode on their own, so all there is to do is analyze the goo that’s left behind, followed by a thorough disinfectant.  We’ve already toe-tagged Victoria (the Brazilian) who self-immolated with minimal encouragement, and thusly I have high expectations for the rest of these pillars of psychological fortitude.  

Though I must say that I’m beginning to be charmed by a few of these lovelies.  It’s true.  I’ve really let my guard down this season and I’m putting myself out there.  I know I’ve been hurt before, but you have to take some risks, you know?

Not high on my list is primero one-on-oner Cassandra, the ex-NBA dancer.  So I wonder: what is she doing now?  Maybe nothing.  Hell, I just assume most of those occupations are made up or randomly selected.  We do seem to have a lot of free spirits, dog lovers, and other bullshit titles this season.  I’m kind of hopeful this continues.  I could see a lot of “recurring reality show celebrity,” “experimental drug trial recipient,” “not here for the right reasons,” or “daytime Emmy winner” among others.

Back to Cassandra, the former NBA dancer (which contrasts the current NBA dancer Kat and current NHL Ice Girl and current ex-Bachelor cast member Alexis).  This reminds me to talk about Kat in a bit.  My god, we need to talk about Kat.  So, right, Cassandra.  The lanky, pointy, clefty mommy.  She’s okay I guess.  Juan seems to think she’s pretty stellar.  I guess he liked her taut behind during the salsa portion of the talent contest.  It was a nice butt, I will say that much.  I guess I’m tentatively on board, but I feel like this fish should be thrown back as soon as we’re getting some more nibbles elsewhere.  Of the single mom pool, Cassandra is probably tops, but that’s not much of an endorsement.

Their date was pretty dumb:  some kind of car-boat hybrid thing (the “Panther”) as a prelude to dinner back at Casa de Juan.  Maybe a little kid refrigerator art, a little wine, a little dancing, and who knows?  It did have a bit of a fantasy suite vibe to it, even if there was no key and implied invitation to sex it up.  They did jump hand-in-hand into the ocean from a boat, and now they’re swapping kid stories and nuzzling on a couch.  Is the finale next week or something?  I feel like we’re on an accelerated schedule, or maybe they shot the episodes out of order (my oft-raised Christopher Nolan time-shifting concept.. some day).  Like I said, though, Cassandra isn’t really going to cut it here.  This was definitely the signature episode for botched kissing, if that’s your thing.  At least there are boobs later.

"Zero to fun in just fifteen seconds."  I made that up.

Meanwhile at the mansion, Kelly (dog lover and not-hot redhead) was drinking all of the $8 Sauvignon Blanc and complaining about being ugly and insufferable.  Elsewhere in the mansion, Renee was doing her best to provide therapy to whichever blonde it was that said her mom had a long horrible bout with melanoma.  “Did she get better?”  “No, she died, babe.”  Almost as awkward as that botched kiss.  Some hugs were exchanged, though.  Renee is definitely a strong candidate for house therapist.  Victoria kind of died on her watch, but she’s making a strong rebound getting others through their own tragedies.

Let’s get that soccer exhibition out of the way.  It’s probably easier to book a stadium in the US before we start wandering around the globe again.  I got the impression that Juan felt like this was a good opportunity to showcase his eroding skills in the hopes that some scout would be watching.  There was even a “Bend it like Juan Pablo” moment.  Maybe not so much a bend as a slight curve.  At some point it seems that the LA Galaxy might have been in attendance, but I think it was probably just a bunch of the crew in Herbalife jerseys.

Not that the girls were any good at the beautiful game, but Sharleen definitely played exactly like you'd imagine an opera singer would, taking a lot of unnecessary punishment in the process. I thought about saying “balls to the face,” but felt that was a little much.  Juan did find a way to run her over like a tackling dummy.  I assume he helped her up.  I think they edited that part out, though.  (Just checked again.  He did not help her up.)

Sharleen taking one to the melon.

I do like that Juan has no concerns about group date dynamics and hurt feelings.  He’s just kind of going for it all out there.  Usually group dates are fairly boring, but these have been sensational in total volume of souls tortured and tears shed.  Nikki went in for some alone time and got no besos.  Andi, however, got muchos besos en la cocina.  I’m a big Andi fan, so nice going there, cabrón.  Even the super chaste and clinical Sharleen got in on the action, and in the most public way possible.  At first it seemed like we were going to get night one Sharleen where she gets all frumpy and weird, but instead we still got that, yet Juan was like “screw this” and went in for the kiss anyway.  At least I think that’s still considered kissing (in some countries).  As bad as it was, it still looked hot and heavy to the hens sitting 100 yards away who couldn’t stop obsessing about it.

“This is my life.”  

Yeah, not a bad gig you got there.

Just to mix things up, Nikki got the rose for playing hard to get.  Better yet, it thoroughly messed with the fragile psyches of the girls that he did kiss.  Pretty shrewd move if you ask me.

I have to say that the second half of this episode really shone.  In no uncertain order:  bikini pool party(!), Elise’s struggle with maturity (and math), and some girl named “Chelsie” emerging as a legit option.

As Chelsie rides off in the Tesla jamming Venezuelan music (I think this), Elise (the first grade teacher and veteran of an 8 year relationship) kind of loses her mind over it.  And really, no one is quite sure why.  The sequence went something like this:

“I’m not worried.  She’s a little girl.  He’ll figure that out.  I’m fine.  I'm good.  It's all good.”

“She’s not ready to be a mom.  She’s the furthest thing from a mom.  It’s she going to be Camila’s step mom?  There’s no way that will ever happen.”

“She’s definitely going home.  There’s no way she can stick around.  She’s a baby.  Whenever I look at her all I see is a baby.”

“Do you know how old she is?”  “I think she’s 25 or maybe 26?  How old are you?”  “27.”

And we can safely infer there was a good hour of additional footage we didn’t see.  Of course the real answer is that Chelsie is “only” 24, so maybe Elise was onto something here.  We haven’t had that exciting of a maturity conversation since Doug and Chris engaged in the world’s worst verbal slap fight over who was a better potential husband for Emily.    I have no idea why Elise was so threatened by this one girl getting a date, but then I suppose there’s only room for one blonde teacher on the show.  I’ll take the science teacher over the glorified babysitter every time.

Elise will at least be comforted to know that Chelsie had a terrible time on her date, except that the opposite of that happened.  I’ll admit that, unlike in Elise’s world, Chelsie was nowhere on my radar, but after seeing more of her, I’m moving her into the official Real Epic Journey Top Five (stay tuned below).

To this point I think JP has done a fairly good job of being an innocuous Bachelor and inducing the ladies to do their naturally crazy thing, but an annoying trend has emerged and I’m worried it’s going to continue.  Whenever a girl is uncomfortable or in need or reassurance, suddenly “Daddy Juan” appears and starts in with his awful baby talk (the accent surely makes it worse).  I’m sorry, but everyone can’t be your little buttercup sugar dumpling sunshine, and you can’t smooth things over like they’re three years old.  Amazingly, this seems to have worked for the most part, but this is a pretty awful long term strategy.  It was in turbo overdrive with Chelsie when she was having a near anxiety attack about the idea of jumping off a bridge.  Of course it didn’t help that they just stood there on a ledge discussing the jump for 10 minutes while staring down at uncertain death, but that’s another matter.  Suddenly Juan turns into this smothering cuddle monster:  “Look at me.  I’m here for you.  We can do this together.”  This went on and on.  I’m all for reassurance, but that was pushing its reasonable limits.  It was uncomfortable.  I thought he was going to squeeze her to death.

"If the cord snaps, not saying it will, just let your body go limp.  Okay?"

Oh well, it’s still early.   He does seem to have a desperate need for all women to be in love with him at all times.  “How are you?”  “I’m alright.”  “Just alright?”  He even broke down Sharleen’s well-honed defenses with his baby talk nonsense.  Eventually he’ll get some resistance on that, and it could turn ugly, especially if he keeps insisting they stare into his beady little eyes that don’t quite look in the same direction.  Just saying, there’s some risk there.

If you’re keeping tally, that’s the first extreme outdoor adventure and the first use of a GoPro this season.  Unfortunately it’s the second private concert by a mildly successful musician, but the first with a recent arrest record.  Terroristic threats and abuse of an elderly person? Terrific.  Does he steal free shoes from orphans too?

But none of this really matters, because we have a pool party to get to, and I think I speak for everyone when I say “I love you, Kat.”  I think Juan Pablo agreed since he found a clever way to position his head millimeters from her, uh, kitty.  But the real stars of the show were those prodigious mams that bounced with so much purpose and, um, inertia.  It’s amazing how an also-ran can suddenly appear out of nowhere.  All it took was a green bikini and a favorable interaction with gravity.  Well, maybe she's a one week superstar, but it was a hell of a reveal.  Let’s keep our eyes on those things and see what emerges.  I forget which of these jealous bitches called poor Kat a “whore,” but really she’s only a whore because it’s not you.  Well, medical sales reps are technically whores too.  Valid point.  Still, the whore did score a nice deep tissue massage.

Yep.

Of course all of this sudden Kat attention (honestly, they were all impressed) caused immediately hurt feelings and self-doubt.  Clare took things especially hard and hid behind a large wooden door for some reason.  This had shades of Victoria sobbing in a restroom stall, but maybe not quite that crazy.  Afterall, these two had a real connection in the shimmery snows of L.A. mere days ago.  And to think:  no call?  No text?  Not even a Facebook like or a simple retweet?  I’m with Clare on this.  How dare you, sir.  Fortunately, Juan can melt the tension with some smooth baby talk, and it’s like these two never left those snow covered dirt hills of SoCal.  I still like Clare, but let’s get it together, girlfriend.

Are Sean and Catherine really getting married?  Sean strikes me as a guy that would get married just to spite the haters.  That’s my theory.  This all seems strange and wrong.

So after all of this psychological trauma (including that Bachelor Wedding promo), we only lose two this round:  Lucy (who was, well, pretty boring and a little loopy) and someone named Christy (who took her lack of cumulative camera time especially hard).

Down to a much more manageable Lucky 13, here is the official Big Board™ from worst to first:

13. Kelly – Being a red head should buy her something, but it didn't.  I would trade her for virtually any of the previous cast-offs or even a second dog.

12. Elise – All we really know about her is that she sure whines a lot.  Maybe she should get a job interacting with adults and revisit this in five years.

11. Danielle – Allegedly a psychiatric nurse.  Could come in handy, but Renee seems to have this angle covered.

10. Lauren – I’m willing to bet you don’t know who this is.

9. Nikki – Preferred type of dancing:  “Is drunk dancing a type?”  Of course.

8. Cassandra – Meh.  (Nice tush.)

7. Renee – Very motherly and very, very plain.  Probably has her act most together of this crew, but then this is a reality show and not reality.

6. Clare – Rapidly crumbling under the pressure.  There’s still hope.  I think.  (Probably not.)

5. Alli – Hasn’t really done anything to earn this spot other than look good.

4. Kat – Big mover of the week.  Unsustainable, but let's see where this goes.

3. Sharleen – A terrible fit, but the most intriguing personality of the lot.  Should be awesome to hear her belt out an aria.

2. Chelsie – Anyone that can inspire an hour long tirade about how immature they are has the goods.

1. Andi – I don’t see much that would change my mind.  Again, I hope she “loses” at just the right spot so we can see more of her later.

Juan Pablo: Licensed Psychologist

Juan's got his fancy car gassed up and ready to go.  Check that, it's a Telsa.  Okay, so he's got his 800 pound battery packs all charged up and ready to go.  He's been planning this date all day.  Clare, I hope you're ready, baby.

But wait, Lucy's boobs are showing.  Clare who?

Horrible editing.

Oh right, Clare.  Hairdresser or somesuch.  She's open to being open about the possibilities of there being a potential of something there.  I think that's code for being in love.

It's already evident that Juan Pablo is pretty good at this El Bachelor thing.  He has the women openly thankful for the opportunity of seeing him off on a date with another chick.  I'm already impressed.  Of course it's a bit early for there to be rampant jealousy, but he's laying the groundwork.  So far so good.

Looks like Clare is hooked.  These dates are getting pretty absurd already.  A sledding and skating excursion in LA rips this out of the realm of reality pretty fast.  For his part, Juan privately foresees a stepmom in his daughter's future.  I hope for his sake he's just playing along.

I don't have a good read on Clare.  Seems lovely enough.  Well, aside from the big ol' grin talking about her dead dad.  That was strange.  There's not a great history of dead dad talk on this show, so I'm already nervous.  She does look a helluva lot like Kristen Bell.  We could be doing worse, I suppose.  That Kristen Bell thing works for me, so we'll put Clare squarely in the top half for now.

If it's one thing to know about me, know this:  I hate the private concert date.  And goddammit, it's already showing up in the first one-on-one.  Worse, I never know who these idiots are.  Josh Krajcik?  No clue.  Looks more like Jack Black after a trip to J. Crew.  Or a slimmer Hurley from Lost.  I'm being told he was the runner up on the first season of the X Factor.  Well that is something now, isn't it?

If we do have to endure private serenades from C-list recording artists doing their best John Mayer impression, I at least want some awkwardness.  Couldn't these two have had bad chemistry or something?  This is much too sweet and endearing.

Next we get Kat the medical sales rep who looks a lot closer to 39 than 29.  It's a world class dimple, though.  It didn't take long to get a private jet date worked in.  Remember the date Emily Maynard had with whatshisface at the The Greenbrier in West Virginia?  Of course you don't.  Pretty short story shorter, the guy was a human sedative and was asked to kindly step away from the unfinished prime rib.  Point is, sometimes it doesn't matter how elaborate the date is.  If you suck, you're toast.  I'm not saying Kat sucks, but you never know.

So as they're lifting off, Kat ponders their destination.  The great beaches of Miami?  Maybe the bustle and night life New York?  You know, when she really thinks about it, she could get used to flying all over the world with her 32 year old retired soccer pro.  Well, "pro" in the loose sense that he was paid to play, but not "pro" in the sense that he was any good.  I mean, retiring because you had a baby?  Who does that?  In the history of organized sports, what male athlete has ever retired because he had offspring?  How about retired because you weren't talented enough for a lower tier soccer league.  Regardless, there won't be much jetsetting on that soccer pension, so don't get your hopes up, Kat.

And what's better than Miami or NYC.  Give up?  I'll tell you:  Salt Lake City, baby.  Mormons!  Mountains!  Michelle Money!  Jef Holm!  That asshole Bentley!  The list goes on and on.  There is some seriously fucked up fascination with SLC.  No idea why they are so completely obsessed with a nothing town like this in the middle of nowhere, but I'll be damned if we don't find some new excuse to work it into the show somehow.

And where better than SLC to host the world's only ecstacy-fueled fun run.  I think by definition teetotalism excludes MDMA.  Pretty sure this is exactly how Brigham Young envisioned things when he founded this religious oasis.  It's also another example of the producers elbowing their way into large public events and forcing the audience to deal with their stupid dates.  Of course in their drug addled state no one probably noticed or cared, but if I'm paying to go to some concert -- even if it's Skrillex or some other stupid dubstep bullshit -- I don't really want to be subjected very special guests Juan Pablo and Kat having their own dance-off for 20 minutes.  I hope everyone was properly compensated for having to endure that.

Group dates are usually just a cacophony of estrogen.  Things like this usually happen:

Unidentified also-ran contestant extending her tongue in admiration of our Bachelor

Some ample opportunity for anxiety, infighting, and maybe a little light hair-pulling.  You never really know.  I do appreciate how the producers continually set these women up by suggesting something that caters to their narcissism like "sexy photo shoot!" only to pull out the rug with "but you have to dress up like fire hydrants and get pooped on!"  It's one of the few details they consistently get right.  Models n Mutts.  "Are you ready to go meet the models?"  Didn't seem subtle enough, but I laughed.

Best part of the photo shoot was definitely the emergence of Andi.  Sure I'd be a little nervous about the prospects of dating a federal prosecutor, but even with Lucy gallivanting around like Lady Godiva, this blogger is smitten with this instead:

You had me at "I'd love to pose naked with you."

I have no idea how this whole deal turns out (no spoilers here, friends), and maybe it's the three buck Chuck talking, but I'm having a hard time remembering a better prospect.  I think that makes me the official #1 Fan of Andi Dorfman.  I hope she loses so she can be on TV a lot next season as The Bachelorette.  Let's set it up already.  Trust me, I know what I'm talking about here.

So far, the ladies have been getting along swimmingly, almost like they're attending a sorority reunion, and it's kind of pissing me off.  "Can I cut in?"  "Sure!"  What the hell is that?  I was thinking the biggest misstep of the evening session was going to be former NBA dancer Cassandra dropping the huge bombshell that she had a son talked to her mom 10 times a day.  Fortunately, we were treated to Victoria's tenuous grasp with sobriety.  

I'm certain Juan Pablo didn't think he'd be called in to talk Victoria off the ledge, but they were clearly getting desperate.  For some odd reason, hairy super producer Elan Gale, all mic'ed up like he was on a covert narco raid, couldn't get through to her.  It was time to call in the big guns.  "[taps on door] Can you talk to me?"  "No.  NO."  "Okay, I'll wait for you outside."  

As with every past run-in with armchair diagnosable psychosis, the entire incident was brushed aside as if it was merely the product of the intense pressure of competition.  Hell, Juan Pablo himself admits he nearly lost his mind competing with Chris, Drew and Brooks for Desiree's heart.  Eerily similar, no?

I'm a little troubled, not so much that Victoria has a severe mental condition that requires heavy sedation and electroshock therapy, but rather that she performed so ably as to be dismissed in episode 2.  I had some high hopes for this Brazilian (and most Brazilians, really).  Sometimes casting a human trainwreck works sublimely, other times it resembles hot oil midget wrestling.  Nevertheless, in Victoria's honor, let's all pour out "not even one glass of champagne."  (sniff)

RIP "The Straddler"

We really shouldn't be losing this much hotness so early.  Maybe they need to have chaperones to keep the top talent around longer.  I don't know if that makes practical sense, I'm just thinking out loud here.

In that same vein, we lost another soldier on that hill tonight, and I'd just like to acknowledge her briefly in this space.  It was a desperately short run, but as Lao Tzu wrote (in Tao Te Ching) "the flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long."  Or maybe a tenth as long.  Whatever the case, goodnight sweet former WCTV Fox 49 field reporter Amy Long.

"This is Amy Long live here at the Bachelor Mansion sitting here with the last shred of my fleeting dignity."

She was cute, she was effervescent, she reeked of immaturity, but to quote Nancy Kerrigan almost exactly 20 years ago today:  "Why?!?"  At least we still have her tasteful Model Mayhem shoots.  9/13/13:  Never forget.

I'm starting to enjoy the "Ice Queen" Sharleen's shtick of playing hard to get, and of having country singer name in an opera singer's body.  Seems like she's a lot of work, but you can tell Juan finds her to be intriguing, maybe because they're polar opposites.  Could be this season's Jef, but hopefully with less plagiarism.

"Ladies, Juan Pablo, this is where we eliminate the show's only black chick.  Also, there's an all new Killer Women tomorrow at 10/9 central.  
When you're ready."

Next week we'll unveil the official rankings.  Still too many who-the-hell-is-thats around.

Until next time, keep your champagne chilled and boobs properly exposed.

Me llamo Juan. Juan Pablo si usted es desagradable

I admit that I totally ran of out gas doing this blog.  Used to take me (seriously) hours to cobble together rapid fire witticisms that only a one-liner jack hammer like Daniel Tosh could appreciate. And then I made the decision to take screen shots and caption them.  God, what a time sink.  It burned me out.  But you know what?  I fucking love watching and eviscerating this show, so I'm back.  For now.

I was surprised to learn about this Juan Pablo epidemic that CH is convinced everyone is afflicted with.  Even guys, apparently.  It's viral, so don't bother with antibiotics.  I know we're in a liberated age, but I audibly winced listening to our android host lavishing praise over how hot our primero latino Bachelor is. He's so hot, in fact, that even completely straight men across the nation were demanding the Venezuelan footballer be the next Bachelor.  You could hear the boisterous clammors in the streets.  Thank god ABC caved to our last desperate wish.  Now if we could just erase producer Elan Gale's desperate attempt to be relevant, everyone would win.

I did wonder how the accent would play, and aside from intense 6 day/week personal training, it's clear the next order of business was to enroll the Miami resident into de-latinification training.  Well, to a point.  Having been around many a Spanish speaker, I think his Inglés está muy bien.  Well, it damn well should be.  The guy was born in Ithaca, NY (go Big Red) and spends all of his time in the US.  Maybe all of those chats with Marlins garbageballer Henderson Alvarez screwed him up.  I mean, what kind of pitcher averages a 93 mph fastball yet only strikes out 5.0 per nine innings?  (source:  Fangraphs)  Perplexing.

Like I've said may times before, it doesn't matter who the hell the lead is so long as there's lots of hotness and complete insanity, and I assume we'll have plenty of both.  Only a complete lifeforce energy suck like Ben Flajnik could ruin a Bachelor season.  At least he had Bachelor Hall of Fame inductee Courtney Robertson to bail him out.  I wonder how those two crazy kids turned out?  I'm sure they're blissfully married and have a large happy family by now.  She even wrote a book about it.

Juan has a little kid of his own, a sweet daughter named Camila, who most likely will play a role somehow, but I assume we'll see a bit more discretion than using her like Emily did little Ricki.  I'll bet one-F Jef wants a do-over there.

Of course you're probably wondering what J-P left behind en route to single dad-dom. Fortunately there are some internets for these things, but I did some sleuthing for you. 

Carla Rodriguez

Yeah, she's cute, I guess.  Anyway, good luck replacing that, ladies.

Speaking of which, let's see what we have in the mystery estrogen grab bag this season.

My non-cut-night-one favorites (mostly to look at, perhaps to talk to):

• Lawyer Andi
• TV anchor Amy L.
• Chelsie (only because she mentioned chemistry, brought 50 mL centrifuge tubes, and seems to be the best kind of psychotic)
• Lucy (I'd be a free spirit too if I was best friends with Kate Upton)
• Victoria (you auto-keep the Brazilian)

That's a pretty formidable top five right there.  I have no idea what their prospects are, nor do I really care at this point.  The thing is, it's not hard to whittle the list down from 27, so spare us the dilemma, Juan.

I certainly didn't understand the fascination with "Sharleen" the Canadian/German? opera singer who seems to have been cast on the show at gunpoint.  No idea what was going on there, but Juan felt like he absolutely made this woman's night.  Either that whole thing was a set up or Juan is really that confused.  I can only hope she sticks around because we haven't see outward disdain like that since Ali left a freshly tattooed Kasey on that glacier and flew off with "Rated-R" in a chopper.  There's a lot of trainwreck potential with this (actual) diva.

At some point Lucy probably comes clean and tells Juan that she's a runway model, but even if she bathes in patchouli oil you can't hide that body even in a burlap sack.  Probably a three episode stay, but I'll pray for more and invite you to do the same.

Not much lost on the night one cast-offs.  I could barely understand Maggie (from SC) who probably feels like the Confederacy is just taking a breather.  I did like Lacy, who was the nursing home owner.  Her favorite snack was listed as "Hot Cheetos," so maybe not such a big loss there.

That mostly covers it.  Now let's get to the bungee jumps, helicopter tours, skinny dips, emergency room visits, anxiety attacks, drunken arguments, and all of the amazing journeying.  

Mis amigos, this is the final sentence tonight.