With only two episodes of The Bachelorette left, including tomorrow’s “The Men Tell All”, you know I have been licking at my TiVo remote all week in anticipation of watching of the most dramatic episode ever. With Bee down for a nap, my box of HoHos and a root beer by my side (why I don’t write a nutrition blog, I’ll never know), I’m all settled down for two hours of douche-baggery.

Let us begin…

We open on Cutie Chris talking about…wait, I’ll let you guess…

…Jeopardy theme…

…HIS MOM! Surprise!

I totally get that Chris’ mom’s death is obviously a huge part of his life, but I’d super love it if The Bachelorette editing staff didn’t splice in him talking about death every five seconds. Kthnxbei.

Next we chat with Smoking Hawt Robert-Oh. Man, he’s a fine specimen of manly manliness. I would write more about what he spoke about, but, to be honest, I was totally captivated by his cute butt chin and his biceps. Sorry, Mr. Bee (I just assume that Mr. Bee sees a Bachelorette post and skips it – let’s all go by that assumption, shall we?)

Last up, we have Nerdy but Adorable Frank the Tank. I really think that if Frank wasn’t two minutes away from being a totally douche knuckle, Ali would totally have chosen him.

Of course, as we’ve told by the magazine articles over the last few months, Frank might still be in love with his ex-girlfriend, Nicole. Before heading to Tahiti, Frank heads to Chicago to see if the flames of love are still ignited with this other chick.

Anybody else wonder why they broke up in the first place? Things that make you go “Hmmm”…

Even though I’m sure he’s going to be a total asshat, I’ve got to give Frank props for getting all this shit taken care of before the finale. Of course, he might have thought about this shit before going on a television show to fall in love, but you say potato, I say what the fuck.

As Frank knocks on Nicole’s door, she feigns surprise, “What is going on?” but as we enter Nicole’s pristine apartment full of camera-men, I’m guessing she might have had some idea that Frank was on his way.

Side note: Uh, I’m not a huge Ali fan, but Frank’s ex-girlfriend kinda looks like she’s fallen out of the ugly tree and hit a few branches on the way down. Just sayin’.

Once the two of them sit down, Frank begins the most drawn out and awkward conversation ever. Just get to the point, Frank! Jesus!!

After about 20 minutes of silence, we get the best Frank comment ever: “When I lay down and go to bed and I’m thinking about Nicole. Why aren’t I thinking about Ali? I just had a great date with her and we have an awesome connection, why am I thinking about you?”

Was anyone else waiting for Nicole to respond with, “You are such an asshole.”

But instead, she declares her obsession love for Frank and asks him to come home. Which he quickly agrees to. Who would’ve thought that a “retail manager” (aka: I’m guessing he works at Subway or the GAP or something) who lives with his parents would be so attractive to so many women?

Red Hot Robert-Oh
Soon we meet Ali arriving in Tahiti (and gag as we watch her do the flip-her-hair-out-of-the-ocean move).

The first date on the finale leg of the Tour du Fake Relationships is with Robert-Oh. They head off to tour the island in a (giggle, giggle) helicopter. Like anyone expects anything less, Ali? Does ABC have stock in some helicopter company or what?

After a quick ride, the couple land on a heart-shaped island (excuse me while I vomit in my mouth a little). Despite the fact that it’s, you know, a beach, apparently the two of them have never seen anything like it and spend a good half hour gasping and then gasping for air as they suck face in the water.

I swear to God, if I have to hear Ali say in her little kindergarten voice, “This is SO cool!” one more time, I might actually, literally, die.

Later that evening, back on the non-heart-shaped island (booooring), with Ali in a strange fake-boobage-and-might-showcha-her-chocha dress, the couple sit down for dinner of wine. Well, at least Ali drank up because during her painful convo with Robert-Oh did anyone else notice that her glass is completely empty while his still has wine in it? And when they pan back, it looks like Robert-Oh has one glass with water and one with wine, while Ali looks like she is surrounded by empty wine glasses! Lushy McDrinkyPants!

After some really obvious lip-biting from Ali, Robert-Oh obviously accepts the Fantasy Suite invitation from Chris Harrison (which, creepy, right?). Ali’s response is that she wants to spend as much time as possible with Robert-Oh…in her vagina.

I may or may not have added that last little bit in there.

Upon arriving in their Bow Chica Wow Wow Room, the couple immediately begin sucking face and undressing Robert-Oh.

::Fade to black::

Charming Chris
After opening her legs heart to Robert-Oh, Ali takes Chris on a huge, luxury catamaran, which I think is a Tahitian word for “big ass yacht.” But it was kind of the lamest boat ever because it could only take them to within 10 miles of their destination island. Luckily for Chris, he got to kiss/carry her ass through the water to the beach. Kid is making up for some lost time in the tonsil hockey department…

After spending what seemed to be 27 hours submerged in water (can you imagine how funky their feet were by the end of the day?), they continued their romantic date by savagely tearing open sea life in hopes of finding Tahitian pearls. How…lovely?

Flash forward a few hours and Miss Worst Extensions Ever 2010 met Adorably Broken Chris for a romantic dinner on a secluded island. Which apparently in Tahiti means that there is no pathway to the destination but wading/swimming to it. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m pretty sure Tahiti would be way better which some goddamn docks and sidewalks.

Cutie Chris definitely won me over when he confessed to Ali over wine that he could see them together forever. **swoon** And Ali quickly rewarded that disclosure with the presentation of the Bow Chica Wow Wow Suite.

“He can see us together…and I want to explore that further.” Anyone else think Ali might be misinterpreting the “together” part of that statement. I think he means marriage, you dirty slut!

And also, if you know that you’re Date #2, does it cross your mind at all that you are possibly getting Robert-Oh’s (or Frank’s) sloppy seconds in the Fantasy Suite Department? Yuck.

Okay, shit. Chris just told Ali he loves her and my heart just fucking melted in to my pancreas. Holy crap, he is adorable. I think this makes me officially Team Chris.

::Fade to black::

Douchebag Frank
Sorry, I couldn’t come up with anything alliterative that sounded as appropriate as “douche bag”.

As we see Frank disembark the water taxi, which oddly enough drops him off on a dock (I thought he’d have to swim his way to the hotel), is anyone else struck by how much luggage he brought with him? I mean, dude. You are in Tahiti for at most like five hours before your ass is headed back to the States, my man.

Oh, but wait! First, before confessing his love for his ex-girlfriend to Ali, Frank has a pow-wow with Chris Harrison.

Side note: Is Chris Harrison adorable or what? Those eyes with that turquoise-ish shirt? To. Die. For.

So, blah blah blah, Frank just reiterates his feelings and all I can think is that Frank is kind of like Superman/Clark Kent. But, you know, a douche knuckle. I think I only like glasses Frank. Non-glasses Frank is kind of an asshole. Except without the “kind of”.

After what seems like 815 minutes of Frank blabbering on and Harrison looking concerned, we finally get to see the good shit: Frank blabbering on to Ali.

“Ali, we need to talk…”

Ooooh, this is gonna be GOOD.

Well, first it would help if Frank would FUCKING TALK. Seriously, he just SITS THERE for HOURS like he did with his ex-girlfriend/girlfriend/fiance/whatever.

But Ali doesn’t seem to need words because before Frank even gets to the juicy part, she’s already in tears.

Okay, this is actually more sad than I thought it’d be. Whodathunk seeing Ali’s heartbroken wouldn’t be entertaining?! How disappointing.

Although, Side note: Why is Ali wearing a Lemonhead on her finger?

Honestly, I wish I could post more, but for about 20 minutes, they only say about four things to each other with the camera planning back and forth and back and forth.

After their final goodbyes, color-coordinated Chris Harrison joins Ali beachside for another Ya Ya Sisterhood moment and Frank hauls his luggage back to the airport (told ya so!).

“This always happens to me…”

Uh, really, Ali? You ALWAYS going on dating shows only to have one of the guys still be in love with his ex-girlfriend? Don’t you hate it when that happens?!

The Lamest Rose Ceremony Ever
After more Ya Ya Sisterhood with Chris Harrison, Ali decides to hand out the roses to Chris and Robert-Oh to make sure that they accept the roses and don’t pull some Frank bullshit on her.

Which would kind of be awesome, would it not?

The rest of the episode as I would write it:
Ali: Chris, Robert-Oh, Frank decided he was in love with his an ex-girlfriend.
Chris & Robert-Oh: Oh shit. Were we not supposed to do that too? This is gonna be awkward…

Surprisingly, Ali doesn’t actually give out all the deets on why Frank the Tank is no longer with us, which seems kind of lame because you know that she’ll tell them like five minutes after the cameras shut off. Then she gives Chris and Robert-Oh the roses and, disappointingly, they both accept.

And God forbid that they stay in one place for longer than a day, next week they will travel to Bora Bora to meet Ali’s family. But before then, we have to get to watch the Men Tell All, including but not limited to Rated R, Tori Spelling’s Husband, Kermit and, dare we hope for an appearance from Frank?

With only a week left before the finale, it goes without saying that Cletus the Fetus has a week to come out of my comfy elephant-sized womb because if he spoils the season finale with his pesky birth, I’m going to be so irritated…

First of all, can we please talk about The Bachelorette from last night?!

Just kidding, I haven’t watched it yet. But I will today so LA-LA-LA-LA-LA DON’T TELL ME ANYTHING!! But I figure that Frank is a total douche wad, am I right?

Now for something completely different…

So I hesitate to write this post because I really don’t want to offend anyone out there in the Intertubes.

Which is kind of hilarious when you consider my “typical” writing style. If my vagina or exploding ass posts offend you, I could give a shit.

But I personally know a lot of people that may fall in to this category now and again and I want you to know that I’m not writing about you. Duh.

So here it is…

I hate coupon clippers.

Don’t get me wrong, I totally understand why people clip/use coupons. I think recently Sissy saved like $80 on her groceries just by clipping coupons in the local paper. I personally don’t have the ambition or memory to use coupons. We do actually own a little coupon wallet that Costco coupons end up in, but I don’t think I could tell you how many times I’ve remembered to bring it along on a trip.

Oh, wait, yes I can. Never. None. Zero times. Poor thing is as untouched as pure-as-snow Justin Beiber.

Just kidding, I don’t even know who the fuck that Justin Beiber kid is. She could be a total slut for all I know.

Anyway, back to the Haterade. See, the other day I was at Target purchasing some much needed items (if by “much needed items” you mean I was walking aimlessly around the store exclaiming every 5 seconds “Oooooh! I NEEEEEED that!!” and throwing it in to my ever overflowing cart), when I finally cut myself off and headed toward the cashiers. There was only like one cashier open so I headed toward that line and started to unload my treasures on to the belt.

Quickly, a line formed behind me and it took a minute to realize that the women in front of me were…wait for it…coupon clippers.

It became clear that there was some sort of horrendous, catastrophic technology meltdown occurring that was not applying one of their coupons to all five items it should apply to, it was only attaching to two items for some reason. This, of course, was cause to bring every fucking cashier/manager/Target lady within a 25 mile radius a-running.

The other cashiers opened up additional registers and the line behind me scattered like my parents when I start telling a story about my vagina. However, since I am about 11 months pregnant and all my crap was already on the belt, I thought that I would just suck it up and wait out the transaction in front of me. I mean, how long could this possibly take, right?

Oooooh boy. It took forever.

I was honestly worried that I would give birth and be shopping for 1st birthday party decorations for Cletus before the women in front of me would figure out their coupon dilemma. But it was worth the struggle. I mean, they must be saving a lot of money or all this waiting wouldn’t be worth it, right?

Oh no. It was in order to save…wait for it…three mother fucking dollars.

Now this is where I may or may not offend my coupon-clipping fan base. I totally get that for some people, maybe a lot of people, $3.00 is worth the struggle and wait.

But dude.

I swear, I was a half second away from pulling out my wallet and offering them four dollars just to move along and get the hell out of my way.

But my irritation isn’t specific to coupon ladies. It also applies to check writers (because who the fuck writes checks anymore) and individuals who are incapable of using self check-out kiosks.

I mean, seriously, people. If you are (1) illiterate, (2) technologically retarded, or (3) born before there was electricity, maybe the self check-out lines aren’t for you. ESPECIALLY if you also plan on using a check! Sweet baby Jesus in a manger, I can’t tell you how many times the self check-out lines make me all stabby inside.

Eventually some nice 12 year old cashier helped me load all of my items BACK in to my cart so that I could leave the store before my 40th birthday. I swear that if I went back there today, those ladies would still be trying to work out Coupon Y2K. I just hope the five tubes of toothpaste were worth it.

Song title: Risking Life & Limb for the Coupon by Bound Stems

So this post was going to be all about how Bee is being the biggest terror ever right now and how it’s most likely a direct result of the impending “hatching” of Cletus the Fetus from my womb.

But instead, I have to tell you about the worst interview ever I am witness to right now. Apparently, today is interview day at Panera. One by one, teenagers are straggling in, some dressed up, some, well, not so much.

To be fair, it is Panera.

And let me tell you, they certainly need some help today. No orange juice (what the what?!) and then their Wi-Fi is down??! Don’t even get me started. How the hell am I supposed to enjoy a nice quiet breakfast without Facebook and Perez Hilton?! Jesus.

But at least they didn’t put meat on my goddamn bagel.

Anywho, as I went up to the counter to inquire as to the wi-fi situation (which was answered with, “Uh, we don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like always just kinda…there, you know?” Uh, yeah, that’s genius.), I noticed a kid/teenager walk in. He didn’t look like a total hoodlum, he had a button-down shirt on, albeit untucked.

Let’s just say he looked sketchy enough that I was keeping one lazy eye on my netbook and breakfast sitting in the corner. Don’t ask which one I’d choose, this morning it’s a toss up. I’m fucking hungry, yo.

So after getting my highly-informed explanation of the wi fi situation, I sat on back in my comfy chair only to observe that said hoodlum was actually part of the interviewing teens for who-knows-what job here at Panera. Luckily, the assistant manager (who I have to say was maybe twelve years old) sat them down only a few tables away. From here, I got to listen to the most unimpressive interview evar.

Seriously, you’d think this kid was being forced here by his parents (which, I guess is a possibility). He mumbled every answer which, if it consisted of more than four words was shocking. My favorite answers?

Question: What do you look for in a workplace?
Answer: Uh, fun.

Question: How would your friends describe you?
Answer: Mmmm…social?

Question: What do you expect as a customer?
Answer: Huh?

All with the most uninterested tone in his voice. It was pretty awesome.

Needless to say, the interview lasted only about three minutes, which has got to be some sort of record, right?

I mean, I’ve been to some pretty awful job interviews but at least I think I forced some sort of feigned interest in the position I was applying for.

I at least even pretended I was interested in some random insurance company internship one summer during college where it appeared that they used college students as indentured servants. Seriously, these Office Space zombies looked like they would eat my brains if I showed up on the second day, which, as you can guess, I did not.

What is your worst job interview story?

Song title: Interview With a Child by Chris Gestrin

On Tuesday, the OB/GYN (otherwise known as the “baby doctor” in my house) took a gander up my va-jay-jay to check on the status of my Cervix of Doom.

I only call it the Cervix of Doom because the Cervix of Rainbows and Puppy Dogs just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

I haven’t had an “exam” by the doctor since my very first visit and I’m pretty sure that this is going to be the only one unless I want more down the line. I was excited, but not really for the appointment since (1) it takes a lot of friggin’ effort to prepare for that kind of exam, and (2) I was pretty sure I would cry if told that I’m locked up tight down there.

The preparation process for this type of appointment (aka: spread your legs and cough) is long and frightful. First of all, it takes me forever to shave my legs when I’m NOT pregnant, so add in a belly the size of Pluto and the balance of a drunken, one-legged ally cat and, as you’d imagine, it takes considerably longer.

And don’t even get me started on “the nether regions”. I mean, shit, I’m like Helen Keller trying to feel around down there. I have NO idea what it looks like anymore (I’m guessing some sort of overgrown jungle/70’s porno film) and the poor thing probably doesn’t look any better once I’m done trying to tame it. My strategy consists of just going full-throttle with the razor, hoping to hit anything shave-able. I’m sure now it’s looks like I’ve got some sort of weird patchy chemo hair “down there”.

Side Note: For those of you women who are going to suggest I get waxed down there: For shame. Like I’m not uncomfortable enough, people?! I feel no need to be subjected to that kind of pain unless there is going to be a baby out of my womb at the end of it. Kthnxbei.

By the morning of my appointment, I finally just decided that my doctor surely has seen things more fucked up than my butt-gina. If not, then she can thank me later for the story to tell her co-workers.

To thoroughly prepare for the appointment, I chugged my normal 50 gallons of liquid to only get shy bladder and squeeze out a few drops for their precious test (which sometimes just feels like a psychological test for pregnant woman: What won’t a pregnant woman do for her doctor? I guess preparing her vagina for surgery just to pee in a cup isn’t on that list…).

Due to my history of butt issues, I even skipped the morning coffee in fear of getting, for lack of a better phrase, the shits. You see, this week I not only got the va-jay-jay check, but also got the “Strep B swab”. Which is the doctor’s butt-friendly way of saying, “I’m going to shove a Q-tip up your ass now.”

And let me tell you, she wasn’t lying. I think I felt that Q-tip in my throat, she went so far in my bum hole.

Luckily the lack of coffee didn’t interfere with the swabbing. My nervous farting, however, had me convinced that the minute I put my feet in to the stirrups, I was going to fart directly in my doctor’s face.

I swear you have never seen a woman, or anyone for that matter, squeeze their ass cheeks together so tight while spreading their legs where the sun don’t shine. It took some finesse, ladies and gentlemen. But in the end (rim shot! [another rim shot for saying RIM shot!]), my doctor got to see up my vag and swab out my butt in peace.

You know, as much peace as one can have staring at my butt-gina.

The rest of the appointment, post poke and swab, made up for the intestinal issues. First of all, the doc told me that even though second-borns are usually bigger than their older siblings AND boys are usually bigger than girls, she predicts that Cletus will be about 8 pounds if I go full term. Since Bee was 7 pounds, 14 ounces, at least I feel like I can handle that again. You know, if by “handle” I mean “let my body be ripped in two by another human being in the not fun kind of way.”

Also, I’m already 1 meter dilated!! Or maybe 1 centimeter. I didn’t really pay that much attention. All I know is that my cervix is no longer being all closed off and distant. While I know I could stay 1 cm dilated for weeks, I’m hoping that walking my ass off, jumping on trampolines and shoving whatever I can find that is 10 cm up my hooey will get the process going soon.

Okay, I’m not really going to do any of that. Mostly because I’m lazy and not very ambitious. Not because it wouldn’t be a good idea.

Duh.

Song title: Doctor Doctor (Have Mercy on Me) by Ray Stevens

Once again, we find ourselves with another week, which means yet another Bachelorette Recap!

Florida Flirting
Finally back in the U.S., Ali gets all packed up to visit her first suitor, Robert-Oh, in Tampa, Florida.

Okay, first of all, can we just talk about the small ass piece of luggage that Ali is “packing” for the trip. Sure, it’s actually a large suitcase, but seriously? You know that girl is going to be wearing approximately four hundred different outfits per date event. Maybe that was just the last of 25 suitcases Ali packed for her trip. And by “Ali packed” I mean some random intern who hates every single second of his/her job/life.

Back to the show…Ali meets Robert-Oh at his alma mater and quickly dons one of his old baseball jerseys as he sports a full baseball uniform.

Meeeee-ooooowww! With a little, okay, a lot of Raaaaaaaaaaaaaawr.

After playing some baseball (which I say VERY loosely), Ali gets down to business with her real favorite hobby: champagne. After getting sauced on the baseball field and obviously neglecting a hairbrush yet again, Ali sits down with Robert-Oh’s family. Robert-Oh’s dad, who is an ex-Army Ranger or something, is hard core with the whole “Robert-Oh is a big prize” stuff and decides to take Ali to task about their relationship.

Meanwhile, Robert-Oh’s mamasita asks him about his own intentions. First of all, Rob’s mom is A-dorable. Secondly, Robert-Oh asks for his mom’s (and dad’s) permission to ask Ali to marry him! Too cute! Top it off with his parents breaking it down and salsa dancing in the living room and, seriously, I want to marry the guy and his family!

Cape Cod Canoodling
Ali’s next stop is to meet Chris’ family in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Dressed appropriately in knee-high boots, Ali and Chris go for a stroll on the beach with Chris’ doggie. Soon they arrive at Chris’ adorable family home where the talk moves immediately to Chris’ dead mom, which again, rooooomantic.

With beer in hand (seriously, this chick’s next stop needs to be rehab, not Tahiti!), Ali meets Chris’ dad, brothers and sisters-in-law. The whole family is sweetness times infinity, but I can’t help but think that when the sisters-in-law notice Ali wearing her Dennis-I-Swear-They-Say-Dentist-Everytime Bracelet, there’s a little bit of “did he seriously give him one of the family bracelets” in the tone of their voices.

But no worries, because over glasses of wine, Ali quickly bonds with Chris’ dad while Chris’ sisters-in-law make sure that Chris is happy.

And while Ali is doing who knows what, Chris and his dad discuss what his mom would say about Ali. So thank you, ABC, for making me fucking bawl my eyes out while Chris chokes up about not being able to show his future wife off to his mom like his brothers got to. Oy. Yet another instance of network television needing to have warning for emotionally unstable pregnant woman prior to showing, well, anything.

Wisconsin Wackiness
In Green Bay, Ali gets to meet two families, as Kirk’s parents (like her own) are divorced. Her first stop is with Beaker’s dad, step mom and adoptive little sister. I don’t think Ali was there five minutes before Beaker’s dad uttered what could possibly be the creepiest phrase in Bachelorette history:

“So Ali, would you like to go see my basement?”

Cue totally blank facial expression on Ali’s face. Slowly, he leads her down in to the Basement of Doom, filled head to toe with dead, taxidermied animals.

“This is what I do. This is my taxidermy work. I bring animals back to life.”

Uh, no. No you don’t. You stuff dead things with God knows what.

Oooooh, but that not even the best part. I think the best part is the freezer full of dead animals. And popsicles. And what looks like frozen bags of blood. Because who doesn’t want to have to root through dead rodents and frozen blood while trying to find the Otter Pops?

And what the fuck was crouched behind Ali’s shoulder while she was talking with Kirk’s dad in the Basement of Doom?!

Fer reals, people. What the fuck IS that thing?!

I think Beaker is hawt and full of the awesome, but I’m pretty sure the pre-nup would stipulate that I would never be forced back down in to that basement ever again.

After surviving that horror, the couple head over to his mom’s house to meet his mom, sister and grandmother. First of all, totally love Beaker’s sister. She seems totally cool and a fun sister-in-law to have. Secondly, Grandma and her cheesy potatoes totally make up for the basement of horrors at Dad’s house.

Kirk’s mom, who, I’ve got to say, is disturbingly orange, is so sweet and obviously loves her son despite his being raped by asbestos in college.

Seriously, could Beaker be any cuter with that hair and those sneakers?! Ugg! Robert-Oh has some competition on the hawtness scale, I think!

Concerns in Chicago
For her final family hometown date, Ali visits Chicago, Illinois to meet Frank the Tank’s folks. They begin by touring Chi-town by boat and getting way too excited by boats honking/tooting (?) their horns for them.

Despite her kindergarten behavior 99.9% of the time, Ali seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to Frank and upon discussing their relationship (over beer, of course. Jesus Christ, Ali!) she seems to realize that Frank is kind of nervous. From what I’ve heard, he has a reason to be, but it’s probably not what Ali is thinking. Damn you Frank and your impending breaking of our hearts!

Ali finally arrives at Frank’s parents’ house, oh wait, Frank lives there too (Looooooser), and meets Mom, Dad, Sister and Brother-in-Law. You can immediately tell that Frank’s family is totally hysterical when Frank responds to Mom’s upfront question about how they feel about each other with “she just came here out of pity” and his dad was all “well, that’s something.”

Over wine (oh my god, this is getting ridiculous), Ali chats it up with Frank’s mom and totally hits it off. What is killing me is how Frank and the family keep on referring to “all the other elements” that Frank is dealing with and “all he’s been through”. What the hell are they talking about?!

After the four hometown dates, I’m scared that Beaker is going to get the axe. It’s the only house so far that she didn’t talk all about how comfortable she felt there, yada, yada, yada. But to be honest, I zone out a lot when she’s talking, so I could’ve missed it…

Three’s Company, Fours a Crowd
Finally back in Los Angeles, Ali arrives in style to the mansion, complete with evening gown with what appears to be a throw pillow sewn on to the front of it.

After her normal girlie pow-wow with Our Lovely Host Chris Harrison, Ali cries in to her rosettes in front of her last four suitors…

The first rose goes to…big exhale…sniff…Robert-Oh! Oh sexy, sexy Robert-Oh! How we lust for love thee.

The next rose goes to…shoulder shrug…twirl the rose…bite the lip…Chris!

The final rose tonight goes to…when you’re ready…clenches hands…bites lip…lip tremble…Frank. Duh. Because he has to go on to be a super douche next week, right?

Oh poor Beaker! Personally, I’d blame it on the creepy as hell dad with the Basement of Doom. But the asbestos-ridden mid-westerner is still super hawt and awesome in my mind!

After a tearful goodbye, Ali sends Kirk off in his limo and joins the rest of her harem back in the mansion to discuss next week’s trip to Tahiti, where Ali will open her heart (and most likely her vagina during the overnight dates) to the final three men.

Kids are awesome.

But as parents, we all know a little secret.

Our own kids are Full of the Awesome.

You know, more than your kids.

We try not to brag. Maybe we might mention that it only took 2 1/2 days for our kid to potty train, she might impress doctors and nurses at wellness checks (minus the physical milestones, of course!), and sure, maybe we video her every move.

But let me preface this post (too late!) with: Dude. Seriously. I’m not trying to brag. But dude.

Bee totally blew my infantile and, let’s be honest, only a few points away from mentally retarded brain yesterday.

See, yesterday was Mr. Bee’s birthday. (Happy Birthday, Mr. Bee!!) While I was busy signing my birthday card for Mr. (which may or may not said something along the lines of “holy shit, you are so old that you used to play pool with Jesus”), I gave Bee her card to sign.

Unsurprisingly, this is what she produced:

Totally normal for a three year old, right? It was exactly what I expected, I had just hoped it would entertain for longer since I wasn’t done writing on Mr. Bee’s “What was it like having to run away from pterodactyls?” birthday card.

So I tossed the envelope for Bee’s card toward her and just said, “Here you go! Can you write ‘Dad’ on it?” expecting a whole bunch more lines and hopefully a few more seconds to finish my card.

A minute later, Bee says, “All done!” and pushes this my way:

What. The. Fuck?!

I’m pretty sure I’ve solidified my running for Mother of the Year Award 2010 with my actual response to Bee being:

“HOLY SHIT, BEE!!”

Seriously, people. She just WROTE “DAD”!!! WTF!!!

Needless to say, my mind is completely blown! Mr. Bee’s too, but he’s more curious how genius skipped a generation with us…

Okay, by “us” he means me.

Song title: Einstein’s Daughter by The Nields

Once again, our frat brothers/Bachelors find themselves in a new European city on their Tour du Love. This week, the boys will compete for next week’s hometown dates in Lisbon, Portugal. Since we’re down to five dudes, there will be four dates this week instead of three and NO ROSES. So no one will be forced to do the walk of shame (aka: be stranded on a glacier in Iceland).

Yawn.

Come be the king of my castle
Robert-Oh scores the first ID with Ali with a not-so-subtle euphemism to be the king (I.e. mount/invade/conquer) her castle (vagina).

Their tour of Portugal basically consists of them being annoying tourists taking cliché photos everywhere and then (gag) dancing in the street. As they ride around on a street car (“Oh Em Gee, Robert-Oh! This is just like San Francisco!! You know, but not.”), Ali smooches away with our resident hottie.

Now seriously, Robert-Oh is figgity fine. So why the hell does Ali keep giving him these tiny little kindergarten pecks on the lips? If I had him in a street car all to myself (you know, and wasn’t married, with a kid and with child), I would be humping his leg like the Easter Bunny in heat!

Eventually Ali shows Robert-Oh her castle, which is disappointingly an actual castle. After some wine and bruschetta, Ali becomes a huge buzz kill by bringing on The Serious. Apparently Robert-Oh is a big ol’ puzzle wrapped in a mystery to her. But what Ali discovers is that said puzzle goes together quite easily when she has her tongue down his throat.

Let’s find our future in the past
The first two-on-one date (bow chica wow wow) will be a Frank and Ty sandwich with an Ali filling.

And has anyone else noticed that the “filling” seems to have migrated to Ali’s chest region? Girl is supporting some serious Victoria’s Secret cleavage this episode!

Somehow the two-on-one date has made the boys feel really “weird” and awkward. Really, though? Was it not awkward when your “girlfriend” was dating 20 other dudes? But not to worry, as soon as the wine starts pouring, moods begin to lighten. And I’m guessing since Ali’s wine glass is glued to her hand the entire date, girlfriend is stressing about which dudes to take to hometown dates.

Ali first pulls Ty aside and asks him the big question: can southern boy handle a wife who works?

What the fuck, people?! Is this the 1950’s?? It “tickles” Ty to death that Ali has a plan and wants to work. How…progressive?

Next up is some alone time with Frank the Tank. He waxes poetic about how important family is to him, because you’d say anything else to your hopeful future girlfriend/wife? At least it’s not something totally embarrassing like that you still live at home with your folks!! Hahahahaha!

Oops.

Yes, you heard me right people. 30-year old Frank lives at home with his mommy and daddy. And somehow that actually makes Ali “aaaaaaaah!” and give him tons of smooches. Ali seems pretty in to Frank, but I can’t help but think that the dastardly Frank is soon to break our collective hearts.

In fact, I’ve heard that Frank makes Wes et al. look like saints… We’ll see in a few weeks, right?

Once upon a time…
Kirk scores the next ID with Ali and is immediately confused with the date invitation clue. “It’s not even a full sentence!” he decries. Yikes! I thought Beaker was a little smarter than that. Must be all the asbestos exposure…

With wine glasses already in hand (Jesus, is it wine o’clock already, Ali?), the couple hop on a horse-drawn carriage to yet another castle. Despite the super cute Kirk/Beaker (even though he is wearing flannel. In Portugal. On a date.), Ali is all *sighs* and “Mmm hmmms.”

As the two sit down for a dinner of wine with a side of wine, Ali admits that she was a horrible date and is all introspective and dealing with the pressure of hometown dates. She tells Beaker that she’s worried that she won’t be good enough for him one day, but he comes back with a Twilight-esque retort about how he never knew himself during his past relationships and now knows that he is deserving of love. Also, he is falling for Ali, not the idea of Ali.

Either Beaker or the wine wore her down and Ali returns to the doe-eyed, totally buzzed Bachelorette that we know and like a little love.

Beaker and Ali admire the melodic singing of a woman who looks like a Portuguese version of my Nana, but is almost as orange as Ali. What a romantic(?) end to a buzz kill date…

Love gets better with age…
Chris L., Ali’s least romantic suitor, gets the final ID on the day of the rose ceremony. The two hop on a Vespa-ish moped, with Chris driving so slow that I’m pretty sure being 9-months pregnant, I could out-waddle/walk them.

And I’m pretty sure that Chris grew a vagina when Ali officially took over driving the moped because she was tired of his grandmother driving.

Once again, Ali sets the mood by talking about Chris’ dead mom. Really, Ali? You are just the mood-setter this episode. I’m sure nothing says romance to Chris than reliving the death of his mother.

After discussing embalming techniques and if he cried at the funeral, Ali takes Chris to a rehab facility.

JUST KIDDING!

She takes him to a winery. Because Ali needs to get her drink on. It is past breakfast time. Geesh!

While still managing to mention his dead mother, Chris does give Ali a gorgeous bracelet made by a family friend. Now she’ll have something to show off when she visits his family. Which is going to be hella awkward when she doesn’t give him a rose tonight, right?

Four roses to hand out
Geez, is Ali just so liquored up from her week of wine-filled dates she doesn’t even need to give her boys a cocktail party?

Side note: is Ali’s dress gorgeous or what? As soon as I’m not the size of a Biggest Loser contestant on Day One (you are more than welcome to evacuate the premises any time, Cletus), I will definitely hunt down and buy, oh who am I kidding covet this dress.

The first rose goes to…Chris?! What? Really?! Dude, this is gonna get interesting real fast!!

The second rose goes to…(looks down)…(tilts head)…Frank! Oh, you are soon to break our little baby hearts, Frank! But I still kinda love you.

The third rose goes to…(not even pretending to hesitate)…Robert-Oh. I mean, duh. Who doesn’t want to lick that little butt chin of his.

The final rose tonight…(sad face)…(twirl twirl twirl)…KIRK!! Oh, snap!!! My friends and I were SURE that RodentFace was totally going as far as hometown visits! I don’t blame her one bit for Auf-ing the half-hamster/half-man, but there is a bigger question looming…

Whose house is full of all the taxidermied animals?!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jake The Yawn & Vienna The What’s Wrong With Her Face
Dude.

Seriously.

What the hell is up with these two fucktards?

This is far too juicy to lump on to a normal recap. Stay tuned for my review of “I don’t even know you anymore” versus “whiny crying.”

Typically, when one thinks of a baby shower, you think of smelling melted candy in diapers, lots of “oooh”ing and “aaaah”ing and, well, general boredom. I mean, is anyone ever really excited to get an invitation to someone’s baby shower. Shit, I am pregnant and the idea doesn’t even sound good to me.

That is, until my crazy ass friends decided to throw me a shower in Cletus’ honor. You see, last time around, my friends had a blast planning a shower for me. While it was more traditional than not, the planning process included brainstorming of ideas such as a vaginal entrance to the party (symbolizing birth, of course) and decorating the place with penis sheep (photo coming soon! Who knew that it isn’t advisable to draw and email half penis/half sheep from work?).

So when the opportunity arose to throw me a shower for Cletus, don’t you know that my ladies jumped on the chance.

To give you an idea of the party, weeks before, when asked for a guest list, I was told that the shower may not be “all audience appropriate” (aka: you probably don’t want to invite children or your mom). Factoring in that this baby features new and fun genitalia to work with, I won’t lie: I was very excited and just a tad apprehensive.

Upon arriving to the shower, I was surprised to find actual balloons and not just blown up condoms sprinkled around the house. But my disappointment wouldn’t last long…

Apparently my friends had a lot of fun shopping for penis decorations. When the penis cookie cutter was purchased, the clerk asked my friend, “Ooooh! Are you making cookies or jello shots??” My friend replied, “Tea sandwiches for a baby shower…?”

Obviously, it wouldn’t be an important celebration if Guillermo, the inflatable penis (who has traveled to Mexico, Vegas, and wine tasting in Walla Walla with us), wasn’t a guest of honor. In his high chair, of course. Safety first, people.

And the pièce de résistance…

A homemade cake made by the one and only Sissy! Can you believe that she made that hospital gown (and don’t forget the tiny little penises) herself out of gum paste?! I still have the Barbie and baby sitting on my kitchen counter because I can’t bear to disassemble it! I have to say, my vag IS kind of awesome. Although, I have never looked that coiffed during labor.

But I think the best part is imagining the tray of iddy biddy penises hanging out in the back of her fridge, just waiting for her 13-, 6- or 2-year old to discover them before the party. Man, I would’ve loved to see her 13-year old boy confront her with a tray of gum paste cock-a-doodle doos! Classic!!

After dining on penis-shaped delectables, we continued to the game phase which included all of my friends horribly insulting me with how gigantic they think my belly is (seriously, people. I’m not a Biggest Loser contestant for Christ’s sake!!).

Later we attempted to drink 2 oz. of punch and/or vodka-laced punch out of baby bottles.

Needless to say, hilarity (and a lot of “that’s what she said”) ensued.

I think we were all surprised at the end result, which probably doesn’t say much for the ladies we thought would kill at the “sucking”.

Despite the lock-jaw and penis-cake induced sugar coma, this shower was definitely full of the Golden. But, you know, in the non-pee on you kind of way.

Song title: Golden Shower by Space Barber

As we leave Iceland and start the week in Istanbul, Turkey, you can’t help but be excited for the rumored drama that will unfold on this week’s episode. Someone has a girlfriend and is on a reality show for shady purposes?? Say what?! Unbelievable!! (/end sarcasm)

“I feel better right now than I have throughout this entire journey. I don’t think anything could go wrong at this point…”

foreshadowing!!!!!!!

ABC waits no time at all (okay, they at least wait until Ali has done her hair and makeup, which honestly, doesn’t look like it took that much time. Ever heard of a flat iron, Al?) and knock knock! Who’s there? Chris Harrison!! Chris Harrison who? Chris Harrison with some totally predictable earth-shattering news for Ali!!

Apparently Jesse, some random chick from Ali’s season on the Bachelor, has some dirty info on one of the bachelors Ali is dating.

Chris calls Jesse on the hotel phone.

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

Seriously, ABC? Best five minutes of television since Alf was caught trying to eat the family cat.

“Hey, Jesse, it’s Chris Harrison. You know, that guy who was supposed to call you exactly right now? Is there a reason why you decided to pinch one off and it took you five hours to answer the phone?”

Basically, Ali finds out that Justin, the Rated-R wrestler, has a girlfriend back home. His girlfriend actually helped him apply for the show and was coolio with the plan until she found out that he has ANOTHER girlfriend in another town. Waaahahahahahaha! SHOCKER!

Ali is of course shocked because “this is the most important thing [she] is going to do in her life.” Wow. Really? Let’s set some higher goals for ourselves, can we?

After having a girlie pow-wow with Chris Harrison, Ali decides to break the news to Justin…

…in front of everyone.

Ali begins by telling the boys how it’s been a really difficult road so far and, well, Justin, it must be particularly difficult for you leaving your girlfriend back at home…

FUCKING. AWESOMESAUCE.

Rated-R immediately bails from the situation and the producers begin to follow him around the entire hotel and grounds. And when I say “grounds” I mean he even gets cornered in the landscaping and has to hobble through fountains and shit.

The best scene? Justin trying to escape in to a café and the waiter locking the doors and waving him away. HILARIOUS!

Eventually the producers must have reminded Rated-R of his contractual obligations and he comes back to Ali full of lies and excuses, which thankfully Ali sees right through. As Rated-R takes his final hobble to the airport, we get to hear the numerous voicemails he has left for his girlfriend about how much he loves her, voicemails left while he was even in ICELAND like two days ago. What an asshat!

Let’s get steamy
After all the drama unfolds, Ty scores the first ID with Ali in Turkey.

Now let’s discuss Ty for a minute. The medical salesman from Nashville just irritates me for some reason. Is it his unbuttoned shirt? Is it his ridiculous necklace that looks like it’s a prop from National Treasure and probably opens some magic treasure chest? Or is it the fact that he looks like some sort of half rodent/half man?

After touring the city, the two strip down to their individual picnic blankets and sit in a hot steamy Turkish bathhouse. Soon they start rubbing each other with, let’s be honest, it looks like baby batter to me, ifyouknowwhatImean. I’m just saying I don’t think I’d want someone, especially RodentMan, rubbing me down with that shit.

Over dinner, Ali delves a little deeper in to Ty’s background, most specifically his past marriage. After discussing that he was accustomed to his mom staying home, etc. etc. Ali asks if his wife worked? Ty’s response, “That was a lot of it. I guess I struggle with that a little bit.” IT was a lot of WHAT?! You aren’t answering her questions, goddammit!!

Side note: My stupid netbook keeping changing “goddammit” to “goldsmith”. WTF, Asus? Yeah, I totally meant that I think that Ty is a goldsmith…

Don’t ask me why, but RodentMan walks away with the ID rose after “opening up” so much to Ali. Personally, I think it was the ejaculate-filled bathhouse massage that pushed her over the edge.

Love conquers ol(ive)
Chris (who isn’t Kirk despite the resemblance), Robert-Oh, Kirk (who we’ve decided slightly resembles Beaker from the Muppets – what is it with the Muppet contestants this season?) and Craig will be joining Ali…

Olive oil wrestling with the ugliest Turkish men the producers could get their hands on?

Let’s just say, weirdest date ever.

Except for the match between Kirk/Beaker and Robert-Oh. I’m not proud of it (well, yes, yes I am) but I taught Bee to say “I’d like to be the meat in that sandwich” while watching the program the other day!

After three rounds, Craig, the funny, nerdy lawyer from Philly, beat the hunky boys for one-on-one time tonight with Ali. This is Craig’s very first one-on-one date with Ali (you’d never know with all his proclamations of love, though).

The other men are sent packing back to the hotel to wash olive oil off of themselves and Craig and Ali head out for a boat ride and desert. Apparently wrestling for your love doesn’t earn you a full meal. Sorry, Craig.

Immediately, Craig won me over with his sense of humor. Don’t forget his witty love poem last week and his hand-drawn tattoo on his wrist at the last rose ceremony. This week he begins the date by suggesting that he quit his job and become a professional olive oil wrestler. Okay, I want to date him now.

But even though it is technically their first date, it doesn’t really seem like there is much chemistry between the two of them. At least from Ali’s point of view, I think. I’m measuring that on the fact that she has let him complete far too many sentences without jamming her tongue down his throat like she does with the others.

The road to love is bazaar
Frank is the first bachelor to score a second individual date with Ali. They spend the afternoon at a spice bazaar buying aphrodisiacs and trying on belly dancer outfits (okay, I’ll specify that Ali tried on the outfit. I like Frank and all but I don’t think anyone needs to see that).

After meeting the world’s greasiest carpet salesman, who convinces Reid, I mean, Frank to buy a rug despite his one million declarations that he is NOT buying a rug today, the two head out to dinner…

…in the middle a cistern.

So, if you’re anything like me, you are asking yourself right now, “What the fuck is a cistern?” Well, I’m glad you asked…

cis·tern [sístərn] (n)
1. water tank: a tank for storing water, especially one connected to a toilet.

That’s right, ladies and gentleman. Ali and Frank are dining in the middle of toilet water. I’m pretty sure someone on the ABC staff should really get fired for these dates.

After Frank opens his heart to Ali about being hesitant to the process and letting himself fall in love, the two share some romantic e. coli water kisses and she gives Frank the Tank a rose.

The cocktail party that is severely lacking in both cocktails and parties
Instead of heading down to the cocktail party, Ali instead asks Chris Harrison to chat with her about canceling the party.

Seriously, those two’s cycles must have sync’d by this point with all the time they’ve been spending together. I’m pretty sure Ali and Chris spend their evenings braiding each other’s hair and watching My Best Friend’s Wedding. Just sayin’.

With Reid/Frank and RodentMan/Ty already scoring roses, the final three roses go to…

Pick up a rose…

Look down…

Spin, spin, spin…

Sigh…

Robert-Oh.

Pick up a rose…

Look down…

Spin, spin, spin…

Vacant stare…

NotKirk. I mean, Chris.

“Ali, Gentlemen, it’s the final rose tonight…when you’re ready…”

Sad puppy face…

Bite the lower lip…

Kirk/Beaker.

Ah, man! The dude with personality strikes out again! But don’t worry whatever-your-name-is. You will totally be scoring some tail when you get back to the states. As a friend of mine exclaimed at his dismissal: “But he’s the only one with a real job!!!”

Next week on The Bachelorette, the group heads to Lisbon, Portugal. But wait a damn second, what are all these previews of the rest of the season?! So obviously, Frank and Robert-Oh get hometown dates and thanks to ABC blowing their load, Frank, Robert-Oh and Ty are for sure going to Tahiti for the finale.

BUT FRANK?!?! WTF FRANK!! What is he going to say to Ali?! With everyone crying on the next couple episodes, I’m literally on the near-edge of my seat, but not really because my pregnant ass is far too big and let’s be honest, you know I’m laying back on my couch because, again, prego.

But you get the drift.

Help me out here, people: Is there something about me that just screams, “That lady needs a bit of meat in her!!”

See, no matter how hard I try to convey to Panera that Mama simply wants an egg and cheese bagel, those tricksy sandwich makers seem to try to slip their meat in every time! Sometimes it’s ham, today is was bacon. I’m pretty sure next week it will be a snout or one of those pig ears from Petco.

Don’t get me wrong. Mama ain’t no vegetarian. But eating little piggies has it’s place and time, neither of which is on my breakfast sandwich.

So is this some suave form of sandwich flirtation? Are the fellas behind the counter really giving me the equivalent of a bagel wink and nudge and saying, “How you doing?” with their slices of pork?

I refuse to believe that my beloved Panera is so incompetent as to not understand “Can I get an egg and cheese bagel sandwich?”, so intense flirtation by pig seems to be the only other option.

Either way, the next time one of those charming, khaki garbed sandwich makers slips a little meat in my bagel (trademark!), I’m just going to scream, “Jesus, guys! I’m MARRIED!” while swinging around my left hand.

Don’t worry, I’ll keep you updated.

Song title: Pig Charmer by Jerry Cantrell