I think it’s a little disingenuous for Juan Pablo to say that his statements were taken out of context or misconstrued because English is his second language, especially since the word “pervert” translates to “pervertir” in his native tongue.
It’s Men Tell All time, which means the finale is just around the corner! This time, though, we’re treated to a creepy, live ultrasound to determine the sex of Ashley and JP’s baby, which is totally old news, since US Weekly scooped this back in April.
We learn that three men lied during their lie detector tests (I’m looking at you Josh, Marcus and Dylan), yet have to wait another hour and half to find out about it.View full post
You may have noticed I’ve not been doing recaps for a few weeks. That’s because I lost both my grandmothers in rather short succession. But, to quote a certain 1980s sitcom featuring a lovable character named Corky, “Oh-blah-dee, oh-blah-dah, life goes on.” If Andi can go on looking for love after the death of a guy she sent packing, then I can sure as hell sit on my couch, drink wine, and write about it.View full post
Episode 4: Death is All Around
“A lot of the guys are starting to grow on me,” Andi says at the start of the episode. What an auspicious beginning! They’re staying at a casino, so you know it’s gonna be fancy! (Promotional consideration by the Mohegan Sun Casino.)
Dylan gets the first one-on-one date and he’s been looking forward to it, because he wants to share his family story (lost his siblings to drug overdoses) with Andi, to the strains of a sentimental theme song.View full post
Episode 2, a/k/a “the show where one of the guys gets sent home early because he can’t handle his liquor.”
My friend Jessica said she lost count of Andi’s y’alls in the first episode, so I made it my personal mission to count them this time around. Episode 2 had 14. Episode 3 had 9, four of which occurred at the rose ceremony. (You’re welcome.)View full post
Hey, y’all! It’s Bachelorette time, y’all! Is this getting old, y’all? Y’all? Yes, we get it Andi. You’re from the South. You’re a southern belle. Enough already with the y’all, though, OK?
The season started with Chris Harrison addressing another first in Bachelor history – noting that a contestant died during filming (after he was off the show). So, the show’s decided to dedicate the season to him. Let me get this straight. She doesn’t pick the guy, he’s sent packing, he dies, and then the show dedicates someone else’s love story/journey/fairytale to him? Ok, just checking.View full post
I must start this recap by saying Molly the dog is my favorite contestant of all time. I want to make “Molly for Bachelorette” signs and campaign on her behalf. She’s the least annoying bitch on that show.
Here we are, at the precipice of Season 17. Get your Closed Captioning ready, folks. It’s gonna be a helluva ride. (or not, but more on that later.) Juan Pablo, or JP, as I’ll refer to him, has a lot of shirtless days (and nights!) in store for us. There will be some confusion about language, and pronunciation of the term “bachelor” will be three syllables. Oh, and we also can look forward to crying this season. Lots of crying.
Last week, a colleague of mine was complaining that she couldn’t take her 2 1/2-year-old son on car trips to visit family because he’d get extremely carsick. I could empathize, having been a motion-challenged child myself. ”Have you tried Dramamine?” I asked. ”No,” she replied. ”I don’t want to give my son any medication.” ”Oh. So she’s one of THOSE moms,” I thought. Good luck with that. ”I’m pretty sure they make a version for kids,” I said. Wanting to prove I’m right, I pulled up the site on my computer and, sure enough, there’s a version for kids named, interestingly enough, “Dramamine for Kids.”
Love means never having to say “I’m sorry…for neglecting you.” Did you catch the first sentence? “I did it again.” Like, this happens frequently, or at least enough to necessitate a trip to Hallmark for a love/apology hybrid card. Oh, yes. There’s a card for that. Run for the hills, I say! (File this little gem under: between you & me…& my therapist.)
We’re into Week 3 of Government Shutdown 2013, and things are getting rough, y’all. Like, so rough, I’m submitting a list of potential OPI nail colors should this thing continue.
Here they are, in no particular order:
All Dressed Up and No Place to Furlough
This is Red-iculous!
Fiscal Cliff Fuchsia
My PAC or Yours?
One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue State
Blame Game Blues
Tea Party Teal
Green Eggs and Farm Subsidies
Blink First Blanca
Unfortunately for ABC, DWTS is turning into Make-a-Wish for Seniors.
For weeks, the network’s been touting all these new changes to the show that were revealed on Monday night, so I hope you all were ready for them! Here they are, in no particular order:
- You get 12 votes per phone line, per e-mail address, and Facebook account. That’s 36 votes, y’all. Oooooh.
- The show will only air one night a week. Ahhhh.
- Couples keep their numbers the whole season. Say it with me now. Ohhhhhh.
To start the night off, Chris Harrison recapped the first half of the finale succinctly: “Desiree gave her heart completely to someone who didn’t love her back…Desiree was left…virtually hopeless.” Nice setup, ABC. Real nice.
We pick up where we left off last Monday – with Desiree crying in Antigua to a sad music soundtrack. *cue the violins* Des changes out of her heinous outfit into a maxi dress for the obligatory “where do we go from here?” chat with Chris Harrison. Chris Harrison asks how she is and she says OK, but he calls bullshit and she dissolves into a puddle of tears on the porch, sobbing that she just wants to go home.
“This journey has been amazing!” Desiree gushes at the beginning of the episode. So naturally it’s going to be a giant cluster-you-know-what. In case you weren’t clued in to this fact, Chris Harrison called the episode we were able to witness “shocking,” “incredible,” and “dramatic.” And you know Chris Harrison doesn’t use those words lightly.
It’s that time of the season again – where the rejects gather to “get closure” from the object of their affection after the world’s shortest love affair(s). (Didn’t we just do this two months ago with Sean?)