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Saturday, February 26, 2011

The Plight of the Wal-Mart Mommy

Sometimes survival takes on a new perspective. Survival doesn’t always need to refer to safely escaping dire situations. Maybe it is appropriate to feel like a survivor every time you walk out the doors of a Wal-Mart Supercenter, kids in tow.

Going to Wal-Mart with children is about as much fun as a paper cut. Walking through the front doors is the only peaceful part of the journey. You grab a basket, speak to the door greeter - unless that day’s “greeter” happens to be one of those cantankerous old farts who doesn’t greet at all - and take off. Before you take a third step through the foyer area at the front of the store comes the inevitable question, “Can we go to the toys? Can we? Huh? Momma, can we? Please?!” As I suspect most moms do, I answer, “If you are good while we are in here.” As if holding the toy section hostage/using it as a bribery tactic is enough to make small children morph into better behaved versions of themselves. However, wishful thinking isn’t a crime. Less than 5 minutes later, it begins... “Have we been good? Is it time to go to the toys? Momma, are you listening? Can we go over there now?” My response: “Seriously, kids? I just started shopping. Can you PLEASE be patient?”

We move on.

After the outburst, they are just frightened enough not to argue about the moment. Although I AM able to get a little more shopping accomplished, it is not done without a moderate amount of under-the-breath whining. I try to block it out. But really, who can completely block that out? Still, I go on with my shopping, appearing to ignore the depressive states of a 7 and a 4 year old. Appearing to ignore the whispery reciting of the word please...over and over...and over...and over. At this point, they are soooooooo impatient that they begin arguing with each other, walking slower, getting in front of the cart, lagging way behind, anything else that makes life just a tad more difficult. This is where I start responding. A little with looks, a little with words, clearly exhibiting frustration in both cases. Children are smart. They know when they are pushing the limit. But they do it anyway. WHY?! Eventually, emotions running high, I run over a heel. Yes, a heel of a foot. Ohhhhh my gosh the world comes to an end. You know when you are in a public place and you hear a child throwing a fit and think to yourself, “wow, that child needs some discipline!” Well that’s my child after I clip a heel with the cart. And so begins the first ‘come-to-Jesus’ meeting of the shopping trip. Life gets just a little better for a few minutes. Then the arguing starts back up. Now I have to put on my peacemaker hat. Reasoning with them at this point is futile. Therefore, the temporary solution is putting one child in front of the cart, one behind me. A whole new set of problems! The heels, the lagging, ugh! All of this continues.

On my most recent trip, in the time spent getting from one side of the store to the other I lost every ounce of patience I began with. I stopped the cart, squatted down to get in their ears and proceeded to tell them what was on my mind. I stood up, looked at them both very seriously and my 4 year old responded, “I think I’m scared.” Mission accomplished! It was the turning point. The rest of the trip was peaceful. Partly because of our last talk, partly because the rest of the trip was only about 5 minutes so they didn’t really have time to get wound up again.

This trip's outcome: no toy section! Result: crocodile tears. Wal-Mart, the devil’s stomping grounds. Why must this place be so stressful. But at the end of the day, it's survival of the fittest. And somehow, we always survive. Even though occasionally, surviving means driving through for ice cream in order to make the crying stop.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Hometowns, Episode 8

Four words - most.disappointing.episode.ever. Why, you ask? The streak is broken. Need I say  more? That said, I love hometowns!

Hometown number one, destination - Clampett mansion...I mean Chantal’s parents’ little shack. Who has that kind of money?

Prior to going to visit Granny and Uncle Jed, though, she takes him for a visit to her place...which is only 4 streets away from her parents, which she apparently never stays at because according to her she’s always over at their house. Brad walks into her place and brags about it being “really nice.” If you think this is really nice, just wait Brad, just wait. I personally am not a pet person, yet I understand people get attached to their pets. I respect that, I really do. However, you might be a little too attached if you’re willing to say, “Brad has to get along with my pets in order for us to have a future.” Ummmmm........HUH? Again, I admit I don’t have a bond with any animal, but I reeeeaaalllllyyyy don’t think it’s normal to choose a husband based on who scratches your dog’s undercarriage the best! Oh sweet Boca, that fuzzy little ankle biter. Dearest Chantal, I’m pretty sure you’d have a better shot at getting Brad to love your pooch if you got yourself a man’s dog. C’mon Richie Rich, shop around for a Bull Mastiff or English Bulldog or something. Look at this picture...


This looks like a man thinking, “keep your yapping rat-dog away from my Corona! the way, do you have a lint roller?” We didn’t see much of little Jinxie though. I’m sure he’s in the back with DeNiro learning how to flush the toilet.

Ok, I’ll stop pet bashing now and move on to Billie Jean and Michael. After Brad lint rolls the dog hair off of his clothing, they loaded up the Tahoe and they moved to Beverly. I mean they headed to her Dad’s...mansion that is...swimming pools, wine cellars, botox, creepy statues. The first thing I noticed about daddy? Hair plugs. Almost overshadowed by the Barney purple button up, but not quite. The hair plugs were hard to get past. First thing I noticed about mommy? Bad cosmetically altered face. I’m not against cosmetic surgery, but when it makes you look frozen in time and gives you duck lips...gross. While Ellie Mae sits in Granny’s lap and consoles her about her bad botox, Jethro and Uncle Jed go from man cave to man cave and finally close their conversation with another extremely awkward man hug. Did ya notice Brad’s distant pat on Michael’s back as daddy dearest came in for a hug? Weird.

After all of the dinner and after-dinner weirdness and excessive red wine drinking, Brad received another awkward man hug and a cougar hug from Daffy...I mean Billie Jean. Then they invited him back to that locality. Hospitable enough...just not my kind of people.

I suppose you could say the next stop on the hometown tour was no man’s land. AKA Madawaska, Maine. One of the first things Brad told Ash was that he could live there. That would be a stark contrast to his trip to Seattle where he told Chantal he could see himself visiting and hanging out there. Ouch.

I was a little surprised by Brad and Ash’s initial stop. She took him to the diner where she held her first job. Not sure that’s where I would have taken him to introduce him to the place in which she was raised. But then again, there may not be much hoppin’ up in good ole Madawaska. The meal she chooses. Ugh. Fries with cheese and gravy? Known as poutine (pronounced poo-tin) to the locals. Yeah, to this Arkansas girl it sure looked like a pile of poutine. This meal is a little like Chantal’s dog. Not really something you’d picture a manly man enjoying. How about a big fat Porterhouse and a loaded baked potato? These girls! I really can’t move on without pointing out Brad’s “native tongue”.....native to towns a little further South than Madawaska. Waitress asks Brad if he wants some poopin. Oh my bad, I mean poutine. His response? Si. Oh dear. I’m not even a Spanish speaker and I would know better than that! Jeez Brad. They speak French... you know like French fry, French kiss, French manicure.

While I totally think the feeding each other was cute, it was probably a little inappropriate to tell him to open wide for a bite and then say, “I just saw your crown.” Once again, the conversation gets a little serious and Ash starts chewing on the inside of her mouth. It bugs me. Kindof like a dripping faucet, once you notice it you can’t get past it. I have to say that I liked Ash’s family better than Chantal’s. I didn’t realize Ash’s sister was Courtney Love though! That’s exciting. Or wait, was it Angelina Jolie? Anyhoo, we’ll just call her tat and move on. So they walk into the house and Ash immediately transforms into a little kid at the circus. She got some mad vertical during that jumping scene, though. Props to you AshLebron! Then they finally sit down and she takes one good bounce off of the couch and ends up in Brad’s lap. Nice landing Mary Lou! This landing makes sister tat take notice and come to the conclusion that they must be pretty serious. Yeah they must be because in Maine women aren’t allowed to sit in the lap of a man until they are ready for marriage. Is it rude of me to refer to her as tat? Shall I instead call her by her real name? Chrystie with a C...and a Y. Nah I prefer tat.

The term “soup’s on” takes a whole new meaning when by soup they mean lobster. This ain’t Red Lobster, folks. Up in Maine they just yank a big’un outta the tank, toss it in the boiler, and lay it on the plate! I’m a little disappointed that they didn’t stick tiny fedoras on the little guys. I was curious to see how they were going to eat them. They, as in the parents and Brad. Makes you wonder why none of the kids had oversized crustaceans on their plates. Anyhoo, I was curious as to how you go about digging in to a whole lobster. I saw the chewing of food, but the technique was never revealed. Fail!

The dinner conversation was good, except for tat’s outburst when Brad thanked Ash for “picking him.” I believe she screamed something like HEARTS ARE BURSTING AGAIN! That was right before she was overcome with the urge for a new tattoo. A heart bursting...perfect!

The most curious moment for me was when her dad commented that Ashley “will be a dentist” and finish school. I’m confused. On the show she has always been labeled as a dentist. What gives? She’s not really a dentist yet? Oh well, after a weird sleepover conversation the date ended.

From one side of the country to the other, Brad travels 3,000 miles to see Shawntel. *creepy music playing in head* This hometown was the most disturbing I’ve ever seen. Brad tries to tell Shawntel he loves it Chico, and she gets excited because she thinks he loves it inside her second home. Her and 300 of her closest friends and ashes. Brad corrects her and lets her know that he doesn’t love it there in the mausoleum, he loves her town. Wah wah wahhhhhh.

Since I have an overactive gag reflex about this sort of thing, I can’t stomach much conversation about this part of the hometown. Saying I was creeped out couldn’t begin to describe my feelings toward her bluntness about her passion. Did she really tell Brad she wanted to be cremated? Really? Did she? As he nervously followed her into the room that has a danger sign on the door, I was anxiously and even more nervously waiting for the show to cut to a scene where Jigsaw is watching from his control room. Brad lays on the table, some yuckity yuck conversation takes place, you can see Brad’s thought bubble asking for help from the cameramen, and he tries to save himself by telling her that he is fascinated by the embalming process. Just before the point of a panic attack, she spares him any further anguish. She lets him know that if she went to Austin with him, she could get a job that would utilize her prep room skills. Does she mean skills like Napoleon Dynamite’s nunchuck skills? Oh just go make yourself a dang ques-a-dill-a.

Conversation at the dinner table seemed a little forced and a little uhhh weird. If I’m going to make fun of duck lips, I’ll stay consistent and point out Dad’s stash. So THAT’S where Jimmy Hoffa is hiding!!

When this date ended, it was painfully obvious to me that Shawntel would never have the honor of picking out urns together with this Bachelor.

There is something to be said for saving the best for last. The hometown I have waited for...sweet Em’s. I did not appreciate ABC’s obviously inaccurate depiction of how this hometown was going to go. Thanks ABC producers for making us think little Ricki wasn’t going to like our hunky Brad. Indeed this sweet little doll with her precious giggle and pink flip flops loved Mr. Brad! And I loved little Ricki...and her ginormous bedroom. Move over Clampetts...Ricki’s room is here! I wondered why we didn’t get to meet Em’s family, but meeting Ricki was more than enough! I was satisfied with that. What I wasn’t satisfied with was Brad’s lame attempt at chivalry. It’s not 1902, Brad! She’s a grown beautiful woman who hasn’t had a serious boyfriend in nearly 6 years. She doesn’t want a hug! Don’t be a douche. KISS HER! But once again, they kissed, and when they did...fireworks!

The rose ceremony was a bit predictable. I believe most everyone could sense that Brad wasn’t prepared to spend his life having dinner table discussions about vein drain and cremation. Ick. But finally, we don’t have to use last initials anymore...only one Ashley and only one Shawntel/Chantal. I knew the difference, but Brad mistakenly referred to both with the same pronunciation. So I’m thinking if we ask him if he’s happy with his decision, he’d probably say Si.

Next week - overnighters! Bow chicka wow wow. All I know is, to make up for depriving America of the glory that is Brad's glorious torso this week, there better be an abundance of hot tubs in the jungle, the mighty jungle. A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a-wimoweh. Until then, set a spell, take your shoes off. Y’all come back now, y’hear?

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead, Episode 7

Spoiler Alert....... SHE’S GONE! Finally! Cruella kicked Dorothy’s house off of herself, reclaimed her ruby slippers, jumped on her broomstick and went back to Utah. Woohoo

Em. She gets a deserted island date...and another picnic. Could that date BEEEE more romantic?! But seriously, another heli ride? How about a boat? Ok ok I’ll let it go. The conversation and the affection were so beautiful. But she can do no wrong in my eyes, so she could probably break wind in the middle of the date and I would likely think it was cute. I was pleasantly surprised to see that their dinner conversation wasn’t as heartbreaking as last week’s previews made it appear. I felt like all was right with the world when he told her she WOULD get a rose and they had the perfect kiss standing in the waves. Prelude to the finale? One can only hope.

Date number two. Oh yeah, there are other girls there. I forget.

Shawntel the vain drainer. Bless her heart...she may have gotten a picnic, but it was in a pasture surrounded by goats. GOATS. Brad! Really? So then it appears that dinner is going the way of romance, but then - dinner with Brad... and 40 island natives! I’m feeling a prelude to a trip home. Off topic, ladies and gentlemen we have a new record... 37 seconds! A topless Brad. We also saw a really cute bikini courtesy of Shawntel. Unfortunately we also so her oversized tramp stamp. Eye popping bulls eye on her back.

Little tiny Britt and her 12 year old bod finally get a one-on-one. I’m super duper digging the yacht pickup. Britt and Brad seem to have a buddy kind of way. Hey friend, let’s go cliff jumping and then sit 3 feet away from one another on a romantic secluded beach. And then we can sit and have a dinner devoid of any romantic feelings or intriguing conversation. He actually uttered the words, “nice night.” Cricket cricket. Making her crawl into a lifeboat waving goodbye was quite the touch. She’ll never let go, Jack. She’ll never let go.

Probably the most uncomfortable group date of the whole season. Rise & shine! Never mind the squinty eyes and morning breath. They are about to do something that “millions of women” dream about doing. As they are being prepped for their SI photo shoot, I just loved Ash’s cheerleader move with with the words, “no boobs.” Chantal canNOT say the same. Brad sneaks a peek of her taking her top off while trying to pretend he doesn’t want to look. It’s as if you can almost hear his mental monologue. Look away - but I see boobies - look away man - I don’t want to - ok but at least pretend to look away. Real sly. This day was 3 for 3 in the awkward conversation category. I gotta say - is Michelle SOO stupid that she honestly feels it’s ok to be cranky with a man who has other girls treating him like a king? None of these 3 girls have even figured out that the key is to focus on her own relationship and winning Brad’s affection, rather than bringing up insecurities about other girls. And for the love of God STOP CRYING anytime Brad shows attention to another girl. I’m waiting for a day when a Bachelor will immediately honor all requests to “send me home.” We allllll know that’s a bluff. So irritating!

The fact that Brad chose to forego the cocktail party says A LOT. I had just one moment in my head where I felt Chantal could possibly go home. Afterall, she did act a fool beside the pool. However at the end of the day, I knew that it was about to be Michelle’s time. I felt it coming. My heart started to go pitter patter.

The stage was set. There it came. The long walk to the rose ceremony area. The intense nervousness (except for Em of course). The order of the roses painted a picture. We all saw the first rose coming. Brad disclosed his own spoiler alert on their date. And it was a little predictable Shawntel would be next because the other 2 created so much drama during the group date. At this point I think everyone watching kneewwwww. It was finally the moment everyone had been awaiting. No, Chantal isn’t my favorite, but Michelle - now she’s a piece of work! It was time. The final rose was like a slow motion video. Chantal, will you accept this rose so I can get this psycho out of my presence? Well, maybe it didn’t happen exactly that way but you get the picture. And with a muffled and emotional “gladly,” it was over. I suspect viewers everywhere let out a collective resounding sigh of relief. In the meantime, 42 different women were fighting amongst themselves inside Michelle’s twisted mind. Those eyes. Those evil eyes. She immediately transitioned into her newest identity, the silent one. This one’s my favorite! Finally, a personality I can get on board with. He asked to hold her hand and all she says is, “ummm probably not.” He asked if she wanted to talk and only received a simple reply...”no.” Like the rest of us, I think Brad was expecting a lot more. The exorcist waiting in the wings was a bit disappointed, but I for one was ecstatic. And how can a silent limo ride be so entertaining? Well other than a couple of moans, it was silent. The bizarre way she laid down in the back seat. Can someone check her pulse? Bet she doesn’t show up for The Women Tell All episode. Betcha!

Who else noticed that as Brad made his journey back to the beach, we saw a little hop in his step. I truly believe somewhere on the cutting room floor is a cartwheel. I also noticed a bit of a man glow. Ahhh we can all breathe now. Ding dong the witch is dead.

Next week...I see dead people.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Costa Rica, Episode 6

I really must lead this blog entry with THE SINGLE MOST ironic statement ever! In the history of ironic statements! After Michelle’s personality number 42 states that she wishes Chantal would be attacked by monkeys or apes, she has the nerve to describe Chantal with these words: aggressive, overly confident, overly confident. The irony. Enough said.

Chantal gets another date and another helicopter ride. Originality isn’t Brad’s forte. I guess it wouldn’t be a date with Chantal without a little rain. But backing up, the zipline thing kinda freaks me out a little. I’m all about adventure, but 600 feet above dry land? No. Nada. Never. Lacks romance wouldn’t you say? And I’m not so sure the 2nd part of the date wasn’t lacking in romance a little too...until the rain. That’s where the fun began, really. It rains, they run to his condo, she puts on his shirt, they toast, they make out, he fights the urge to ask for a lap dance, they share passionate moments. Second most ironic statement ever... Michelle was impassioned in her theory that the rain had to have ruined their date! Cut to Chantal with sexy wet hair standing in Brad’s condo wearing his white button up as he gazes with a lustful stare in anticipation of the upcoming makeout session, while he not-so-discreetly held his glass of wine creatively in front of...well you know where I’m going with that. The date Michelle said the rain “completely ruined” was the same date Brad referred to as perfect. Very perceptive, Michelle. It was ruined. Yep. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

It’s that time again. Group dates. The thing Michelle hates. Really. She hates group dates. She said so. How about Brad’s Teva sandals. He just slipped down the cool factor scale a little. On this date, the girls were provided the AWESOME (and by awesome, I mean terrifying) opportunity to rappel down a waterfall. Something shocking happened. Sit down for this. Michelle got mad. Yes, you heard me correctly. She was “p****d” as she so eloquently put it. But in all fairness, she DID have a pinky swear with Brad that he would never rappel with anyone but her. Pinky swears are a big deal. Who doesn’t know this?? I guess Brad didn’t get that memo!! As any sweet schizophrenic woman would, she closed-fist whacked him a few times. He had it coming. Disclaimer: Any perceived endorsement of Michelle or her actions contained herein might contain excessive sarcasm.

Aside from some jealousy and cattiness, the daytime portion of the date was less than interesting. The hot springs were quite the buzzkill for Brad. He was forced to toast with some sort of miniature fruity drink, Jackie insecurely gives him a hard time about not rappelling down with her, Emily admits sabotaging relationships (although she TOTALLY redeemed herself with that kiss...lordy!), and Michelle happened. Personality 27 was convinced that it was appropriate to interrogate him about his choices, personality 11 interrogated him about his reasons for taking Chantal on a sexy date and letting her wear his shirt, personality 34 laid the tongue to him to distract him from her other personalities. Pretty sure it didn’t work. Nobody gets a rose. Wowza. Brad might want to sleep with one eye open.

On a happy only took 42 minutes for the producers to show us the goods! Let’s set a new record next week, ABC!

Alli meets him “at the altar.” Finally! Transportation that doesn’t involve a helicopter. Only... it’s a horse. That would be sign #1 of impending doom. He holds her hand without intertwining fingers. Sign #2. He takes her on a picnic on a wet rock. Sign #3. Conversation evolves into dissecting the cave tour and talking about the chicken. Sign #4. She says city people aren’t really that special. Oh and she says it to the guy from Austin friggin Texas. Sign #5. His eyes light up when she mentions that she ended her last relationship because she “couldn’t see him at the end of the aisle” at her wedding. Sign #6. Was I surprised she didn’t get the rose? Not in the least. So alas, out goes Alli and all of her green clothing. Don’t let the door hit you in that big booty.

Knock knock. Who’s there? Schizo. Schizo who? You know the rest. Who shows up unannounced at THE BACHELOR’S condo to interrogate him about things that are NO business of hers and to map out the order in which her pretend boyfriend needs to send the other girls home? The best part - she mapped them out on his fingers, leaving “the bird” as the last one standing to represent herself. Seriously. Who does that. At least personality 34 was there to save the day with an awkward kiss that clearly triggered his gag reflex.

Weirdest cocktail party ever. All of the chatter, the squirming and the investigating the case of the who-told-Brad-what situation was a bit much. Chantal isn’t back in my good graces yet, so it was a little hard to watch her say those 3 little words to Brad. I was a bit frightened watching the evil gleam radiate from Michelle’s eyes as Brad called her out on her behavior. She oozes insecurity and hatred. WHEN will this ratings Bonanza end so that they will let Brad give her the boot. Pack up her broomstick and be done with her AND her fake tears. Gag! Should I mention the silent game? I’d say Miss Shawntel is a pro at the silent game, considering she works around the most silent crown in the universe. The whole night was just a

Poor weird-faced Jackie. At least she left gracefully.

Here’s to dreading next week. The rolling around in the sand, the “send me home” speech, drunk Ash. But who can notice all of that when it appears it will take less than 42 minutes for Brad to become shirtless and he may possibly even remain that way! Ahhhh

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Sin City, Episode 5

A fun episode. Anything involving Vegas makes my heart go pitter patter. There were some memorable moments in this episode, some I hope to forget in the near future. This week holds its first 2-on-1 date. The most hurtful date of all.

Shawntel got the first one-on-one, “Let’s end the night with a bang.” And let’s begin the night with yet another flying leap into Brad’s arms. I’m guessing that her OCD kicks in every time she sees Brad and MUST surrender to that impulse before she can go on with her life. First stop on the date... the mall! Not just any mall. An upscale mall containing high end stores & boutiques. What woman wouldn’t want a shopping spree with an unlimited budget? To quote one of my favorite movies EVER, I would definitely spend “an obscene amount of money” if I were in Shawntels shoes! Not just profane...REALLY offensive.

The second part of the date consisted of dinner on the rooftop and some interesting conversation. I believe if I were going on a dream date in Vegas on national TV, I would do more than pull my shopping hair back in a messy low pony. Shawntel, take some pride in yourself. I know the corpses are ok with any hairdo you choose, but c’mon - this is Wommack! Over a perfectly pleasant dinner, chit chat took a turn for the worse. Somehow the terms “vain drain” and “leakage” were introduced to unsuspecting viewers...and then elaborated upon. I’m pretty sure I threw up in my mouth a little. How can someone be so comfortable chatting it up about the embalming process on a first date? Moving on. The date ended with fireworks, literally. The only sparks I noticed were the ones embellishing the sky. It wouldn’t be a date with Shawntel without that aforementioned compulsion. Yes, the one that lands her in his grasp.

It’s the group date I have dreaded seeing. “Let’s go speed dating.” From the second they stepped foot onto the Las Vegas Motor Speedway, you could see Emily’s unease. It was painful to watch. Thank you Jackie and Lisa for your bleeding hearts. The only two ladies to step to Em’s defense. I was proud to see Brad pull her aside to let her discuss her emotions. I’m not convinced he was oblivious to her feelings, though. Nonetheless, at least he tried to make it easier for her. Seeing her cry inside the car, watching her reliving some excruciating memories, listening to her proclaim that the first few laps were for her deceased husband and the last for herself...too difficult to watch, much less discuss.

Let me preface this paragraph by saying that I know going on that show must spark some intense competition and they want as much time with him as possible. HOWEVER... now to whip out my claws. Alli, HOW DARE YOU disrespect Emily’s situation! Her claim that “we all have problems, we all have issues, we’ve all been through things” followed up with the mean girl statement, “just because somebody comes in with the worst story means they get the most attention??” does not settle well with me. I believe the answer to mean Alli’s last question would be - ABSOLUTELY! In this case, you dang skippy! Infuriated doesn’t begin to express my feelings toward Alli’s rant. Chantal added insult to injury by taking every opportunity she could to whine and cry about the attention Jake gave Em. What is wrong with these women? Emily is defined by that part of her life. She has a child by a man who died as a result of his profession. The racing profession. The very environment she was thrown into by ABC on this date. Thank goodness she got the rose! Off of my soapbox now. Let me end with these words - Alli, I loathe you. Chantal you just bumped yourself way down the list for me. Alli, I loathe you. Oh did I already say that?

Come swing with the King. Something about the very first two-on-one date was just a little dull. I’m a huge fan of Cirque du Soleil, but it makes for an uninteresting Bachelor date. Not much really to say about anything. I mean, what actually happened? Some practice mid-air swinging, Ashley S sitting under a spotlight on the stage reflecting on her time with Brad, a dinner that seemed to transition straight into the dumping. I was truly hoping to lose Ash H, but instead we had to say goodbye to our little Kelly Pickler. Not sure if I’ve ever seen so much crying. “Finding -huh- love is -huh huh huh- really important to -huh sniff- me.” Pull yourself together, sister! Have some dignity. To add insult to injury, ABC makes sure to play Are You Lonesome Tonight as she is being driven off. I suspect she sat in her living room watching this episode with a pint of Cherry Garcia, her wilted first impression rose, and a box of tissues.

Rather than listen to a tedious and verbose conversation between Brad and Dr. Jamie, I decided to spice up the clip with my own dialog. It goes something like this...

Dr. Jamie: How did everything go this week?
Brad: Something truly painful happened. I was forced to wear tight army fatigues and briefs.

Jamie: How did that make you feel?

Brad: Uncomfortable and insecure.

Jamie: What was so uncomfortable about it? Let your feelings out, Brad.

Brad: Well the outfit was tight, and they put a harness on me that smashed my junk.

Jamie: So this reminds you of a time in your past that you thought you’d worked through?

Brad:Yes and it confuses me.

Jamie: Do you think it’s normal to be so confused over this?

Brad: Not normal at all. I thought I’d left that part of my life behind me. In the past, I was confused. I couldn’t commit to boxers or briefs. I wore briefs most of the time and they never really made me feel complete. So I became a boxer guy after extensive therapy. And now THIS. I have been taken back to an extremely gut wrenching part of my life.

Jamie: So you are having flashbacks now?

Brad: Yes and now I’m not sure how to feel. I mean, I know I’ve said I will commit to boxers, but I’m not sure now. The snug feel of the briefs makes me feel so good. I had forgotten the guilty pleasure of that snuggly feeling created by banana hammocks. Dr. Jamie what should I do?

Jamie: I know this will be difficult, but there’s really only one solution. You’re just going to have to give both up and live a commando lifestyle.

Brad: Commando? I hadn’t thought of that. It sounds so liberating. Thank you so much for this!

Jamie: You’re welcome. Now can I get back to my Big Mac?

Brad: You betcha. I’m off to burn everything in my underwear drawer.

It’s just more fun to believe that’s how it went down than to listen to the forced fake therapy being dished out.

Nerves were rampant at the cocktail party. Back to the woe is me thing that Chantal and Alli became experts at this week. Chantal cries and voices her insecurites about Emily again...and again...and again. Really? Don’t voice that crap! Nobody likes a cold-hearted narcissist. Ugh - Alli with her champagne and mini tier cake.Great, Brad. Reward her for her obnoxious juvenile behavior. Brad pointed out the green on the cake being reminiscent of the green dress she wore the first night. Did he also remember she stuck her fanny in his face and that her rack was spilling out the top of the dress? Anyhoo, she felt deserving of that since she was so upset about Emily. ALLI, put on your big girl panties and shut up! The most disturbing part of the night came compliments of Michelle. Sick, twisted, obsessed Michelle. She pulls him in the bedroom, handcuffs him to the bed, and duct tapes his mouth. Not really, but she might as well have. Who tells a grown man NO TALKING?! What the. The thing that happened next left me questioning my eyesight. But my eyes did not deceive. I know because I rewound my DVR and watched it again. She actually physically turned his head toward her by grabbing his cheek when he looked away. She’d have been deserving of a slap in the face, but Brad was too much of a gentlemen. Or was it because the camera would show the proof? After she finished her diatribe about his lack of romantic connections with all other girls, she gives him permission to talk next time they are together. Sweet of her, right? A scene from Misery. A visit to the Bates Motel. Both more appealing than watching that awkward kidnapping scene play out. Keep flying that freak flag, woman! Better secure that loose screw before it falls out.

We bid adieu to Lisa and Marissa. Lisa looked as if she was taking the walk of shame. She couldn’t even face the camera. Marissa let the tears flow, as well. I don’t get it. Why do they cry like they’ve had a death in the family? Didn’t they just meet this guy? And isn’t this guy dating several other women?

Until Costa Rica...