Also known as: the episode where everyone makes out and gets mono.
This Last (sorry) week’s episode begins with an obligatory explanation of how the show works (dur) from our beloved, yet woefully dressed, host Chris Harrison. I’m sure it’s been said roughly a kabillion times, but does Chris Harrison have the easiest job ever?! The actual work to salary ratio must be ridiculous. He is on-screen for a total of about five minutes every episode, gets to travel to exotic locations, is constantly surrounded by beautiful (although that’s sometimes debatable) women and must get paid about 45 trillion dollars per season.
But I digress…
Love Is A Wild Ride
Cassandra, the 21 year old mother of a toddler, gets chosen for this week’s first one-on-one date. I’m not a huge fan of Cassandra so far because (1) she’s only TWENTY ONE YEARS OLD, (2) she deemed it appropriate to leave a two year old at home to be on a televised dating program and (3) I’m pretty sure she is an alien. While I am certainly not opposed to May-December relationships, 34-year-old JP dating 21-year-old Cassandra is like a May 2001 – December 2014 romance. Creepy.
Upon arrival of Cassandra at the date, the first thing I noticed was her…shall I call it an “outfit”? This is where I would put a photo of her red, zippered one-piece jumper, but it seems that it is not featured anywhere on the Interwebs. I’m pretty sure the web would implode on itself due to it’s ugliness.
The couples hop in a Jeep-like convertible and go for a short drive. When Pablo begins to park on the beach, he instead drives right in to the water! What?!
Really? Was that seriously unexpected?
JP then departs from his typical relatively normal date planning for an afternoon on a gigantic yacht. Because who hasn’t hung out on a huge private yacht for their first date?
Later that day, the couple heads back to JP’s digs for a homemade dinner. Yet again, Cassandra wows us with her questionable outfit choices…
But, to be fair, I probably wore clothes that ugly when I was 21.
13 years ago.
Jesus, I’m old.
After some sexy Lambada dancing, the two parents share kid photos and chat about being single parents. Blah, blah, blah, she gets the date rose and makes out with JP.
Let’s Kick It
Surprisingly, the girls travel by non-helicopter to the stadium of the LA Galaxy, which apparently is a soccer team.
And it’s super believable that every single bachelorette is really excited because they know who the LA Galaxy are.
Anywho, the important part is that JP is practicing in all of his sexy Latiny fashion and looks delicious. I’m pretty sure just seeing him in that soccer outfit made all the girls begin ovulating.
All cleated-up, the girls practice and then split up in teams and begin to scrimmage. If by “scrimmage,” you mean repeatedly kick the ball at Sharleen’s face. And arm. And other various body parts.
The bigger issue at hand is the metallic gold sports bras that the women were wearing. Fer reals, where do you even find yourself a metallic gold sports bra? Is there some local Whore Wholesale store where you can pick these up in bulk? I mean, it is L.A…
Hours of primping and face shellacking later, the evening cocktail hour begins at the stadium. Blah, blah, blah, lots of reassuring the woman that JP likes them.
And, of course, JP makes out with almost everyone. And then we got to see this:
First, I’d like to apologize because you just can NOT unsee that shit. Girlfriend leads with her massive tongue a little too much. Sharleen should get a fucking red card for that abuse of tongue. Dis-gusting.
Despite some serious tonsil hockey, the non-kisser Niki, gets the date rose.
Meanwhile, back at the mansion…
…we get to hear Elise tell us how young Chelsie is…over…and over…and over again…
Because, seriously guys, Chelsie is a baby. She really “seems like a baby.” Like literally, a baby. I think Elise is planning on diapering Chelsie and putting her to bed with a bottle. Because “she literally seems like a baby”. Literally. She’s not a baby. She’s a little girl.
Someone literally needs an education on the definition of “literal.”
Do You Trust Me?
Chelsie and JP’s date begin with some rocking out to Venezuelan music in the car and eating at a Venezuelan cafe. Of course, Chelsie loves it all, because who is dumb enough to be all “your homeland’s food is SHIT, Mr. Pablo!”? ((eye roll))
And what’s better than stuffing your stomach with unusual food and then hooking yourself up to tandem bungie jump off of a huge bridge?
But, Chelsie, do you trust me?
Here are some possible responses JP could have when Chelsie freaks her shit about having to JUMP OFF A FUCKING BRIDGE:
- How are you doing?
- Do you want to do this?
- It’s okay if you don’t want to do this.
- It won’t ruin the date if you choose not to risk your life.
- Look at me, I’m here. It’s okay.
- I’ll do whatever you want to do.
- Don’t worry about it. If you don’t want to do it, it’s okay.
- Just do it for me.
Wait a fucking second. WHAT?! “Just do it for me”?! Jesus H. Christ Juan Pablo, could you SOUND any more fucking peer pressure date rapey just then?! Ugh.
Needless to say, Chelsie denies her instinct to, ya know, NOT DIE, and instead jumps off a fucking bridge. For a dude.
Way to go, Chelsie.
But shit, she does get an upside-down first kiss, so there’s that.
After they blow Venezuelan chucks, the couple has dinner at the beautiful Pasadena City Hall Building where they are serenaded by (fill in the blank with random band that I’ve never ever heard of before).
Have any of you EVER heard of any of the bands that play on The Bachelor/ette??
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
Cocktail Cliffs Notes
JP begins the day by surprising the girls with breakfast. As one would imagine, all the girls flip their shit about having to see JP with no makeup and not having brushed their hair or teeth. Needless to say, JP would probably send me packing if he saw me with no spackle, I mean, makeup.
After breakfast, JP decides to shake things up some more by scrapping the cocktail party for a pool party! I’m pretty sure this is just so JP can see the women practically naked.
And, I’m sorry, but once again what THE HELL is up with Cassandra’s clothing choice?!
I mean, really. First, that color. Is she colorblind?! And that floral pattern? AND THE DESIGN OF THE SUIT?!?
We need to have an intervention, y’all.
Girlfriend needs some help.
And even better, Kat finds an accessory that all the girls wish they could score…
JP’s head in her crotch.
That’s better than those bedazzled vag tattoos right there. I mean, he seems…comfy? And also appears to enjoy going for a high-five in order to do an unintentional boob grab graze.
And, of course, all the girls start freaking out, including oh-so-secure Clare. And who better to console her than Saint Renee. Seriously, that girl deserves a Masters in Social Work after being a part of this season. I’m pretty sure there would be suicides this season if it weren’t for Renee.
After swimming around in the herpes-infested waters for what seemed like hours, it’s finally time for the rose ceremony…
Free Spirit Lucy and Who Is That Christy got sent packing. I sure will miss all those “Did you see I’m not wearing a bra or shoes?” moments with Lucy. She seems so…authentic?
Next/This/You’ve Probably Already Watched It Week on The Bachelor: everyone travels to South Korea, Sharleen “impresses” us with some opera singing, bitches be cray cray.