The Bachelorette: “Live Blogging!” Sort of.

Hi, it’s Brooke. I’m “live blogging” the Bachelorette. On my own time. See, Dan and I went out and I had a lot of sake. And now I’m writing! So technically it’s not live – cause we’re starting it at 10:30 p.m. But it’s live for me, ya know? Anyhow, the recap is rolling now. Dan is eating Pepperidge Farm cookies, and I am going to write it as I see it.

They’re still recapping, so let me say this: I hate Wes. I hate him. And it’s not because I think he has a girlfriend. I hate Wes cause he’s a giant douchebag. GIANT. “Look at me, I’m distant, but sensitive. I can play songs that suck and think I’m deep. But if you shaved my goatee, I wouldn’t even have a chin. I have no chin! And I’m a loser.” Wes, just so you know, years from now when your music fails and people see you at a bar, drinking Coors Light and humming “They say love don’t come easy,” they’re going to point and laugh and say, “Hey look, the chinless D-bag from the Bachelorette.”

They’re still recapping. I don’t get this. Do they think I forgot who Reid was since last week? It’s only been a week. OK, Dan has permitted me to fast forward. Now, we’re fifteen minutes in. Jillian is walking around to Spanish music. Where did those guitars come from?

Kiptyn

They run and hug each other. Now they’re walking around. I’ve got to be honest, I’m a little bored and thinking that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. There’s no way to dip a cookie in milk while writing. Kiptyn says a proposal is far off and instantly loses the heart of every girl watching. Look, Giant Forehead, if we wanted to dick around with a guy and date for three years, we wouldn’t sign up for reality TV!

Now they’re doing the Pasa Doble, I think. Oh oh , it’s Flamenco. I fell asleep. They’re clapping and walking. Jillian is wearing a leotard. She has small boobies. More clapping. You shouldn't look this stupid in front of your partner for at least three months.

OOOH, a Harry Potter trailer!!!

Jillian talks via voiceover about her biological clock. Now they’re getting on a moped. Kiptyn says “she’s fun and spontaneous,” as though Jillian arranged the moped and not the production assistant. Finally, as Dan would say, Bang card time!!!

Wow! Jillian says no to the bang card (i.e. spending the night together). I am shocked. WHAT?! How is she supposed to know who she wants to marry if she doesn’t see their junk? Is she going to say no to the whole junk parade? I’ve lost all interest.

Reid

She’s with Reid and they’re in a bakery/supermarket. This is my idea of hell. Why would you go grocery shopping on your third date? Save the chores for the slow decline of marriage. The butcher hates them. “Giggly” in English translates to “idiot” in Spanish. I like the flower in her hair. I wonder if it’s a headband or a clip.

Watching Jillian ask Reid how he feels is painful. Reid gives wishy-washy answers – “I’m attracted to you.” “I think you’re funny.” You’re a good person.” Here’s something I’ve learned: If you have to ask a guy how he feels, you are NEVER going to get the answer you want.

And, bang card time! The verdict: No. What?! Honestly, I’m so done with this right now. If this show was real she wouldn’t be trying to look virtuous and virginal for the viewing public. What she would be doing was spending the night with these boys so she could TALK to them without the cameras. And maybe see how it felt to sleep next to each other. And wake up and have to brush your teeth. Does he snore? I mean, you want to get engaged in three weeks and you’ve never slept – just slept – next to each other. What. Ever.

Ed!

They’re on a horse drawn carriage ride. Let me tell you about the time I went on a horse-drawn carriage ride. My college boyfriend Lee came from the farmlands of California to visit me in Manhattan. To show him Central Park, we went on a carriage ride. You know something – horses smell like shit. Literally, cause they shit as they walk. And the whole time you’re thinking, “This should be romantic.” But it’s not. Do you think when Keira Knightley rides around the countryside in a Jane Austen novel she thinks it’s romantic? No, it’s bumpy and dirty and unpleasant. Back to the show:

Jillian is worried that she hasn’t met Ed’s family. This would have been my M.O. if I was on the show (a future plan of mine). I would fake an illness during the family portion so my family couldn’t blow my chances. Or maybe I would rent a family. A well-adjusted Christian family. One of those families that read you Dickens when you’re little, and don’t allow you sugar cereal, and enforce an early curfew.

Oh, they’re having a real conversation: Ed asked if she would move to Chicago. She said yes. Ed says he can see them spending the rest of their lives together. Dan calls this “an emotional cum shot.” Bang card time!! Jillian agrees to spend the night with Ed under the pretense that they need to catch up because he missed a couple episodes. Ed’s a frontrunner.

Wes

I. Just. Can’t. Everything he says is dumb. The first part of their date is awkward, I think. I went to the bathroom. Now it’s dinner time and, oh look!, another Western shirt. I bet he voted for Bush in ’04. She keeps calling him a bad boy. He’s not a bad boy. He’s a little wuss who feels big in his tiny town. He can’t move to Vancouver because he’d have to deal with his insignificance. Also, he said “We should clear the table” twice, instead of “clear the air.” Malapropisms irk me. She’s now crying(!!) and he just said, “I have to look out for numero uno.” Oh, Jillian, if you had any self-respect, you would say, “I’m too good for you. Get out.” Bang card time!! He says, “I think we should.” Really? She doesn’t. Thank god.

Rose Ceremony

While waiting for Jillian to arrive at the ceremony, Wes says, regarding who’s going home: “It’s me. I’ll be back home having lots of sex.” Classy, Wes.

Ed’s first. (He’s gonna win.) Next: Reid. Last: Kiptyn. No surprise. Leaving in the car, Wes says things like: “I made it down to the final four with a girlfriend.” “My acting days are over.” “Those boys couldn’t get a nibble back in Texas.” Hmm. Is a nibble a woman? Or that cow he screws?

Next Week

More of the same – both from the show (“Share your feelings, Kiptyn.”) and from us (“We may live blog! From New York! With a guest star! But probably not!”)

1001 Things I Hate: No. 2

After a man in an elevator told me to smile, I decided to start a series on Dan’s blog called 1001 Things I Hate. 1001 things? Well, yeah. I hate 1000 and 1 things, and I have a list.

Talking on the Phone

Seriously, don’t call me. The last time I enjoyed talking on the phone was with my 6th grade boyfriend, Andrew Goodman, a quality kisser and excellent conversationalist. Dan and I, despite our witty in-person and written repartee, are freakishly awkward on the phone with each other.

Dan: “Hey. What’s up?”
Brooke: “Nothing.” (Pause.) “Have you se–”
Dan: “Where are you?”
Brooke: “I’m at th–”
Dan: “Wait, did you say something?”
Brooke: “What?”

In the good old days, you could masturbate in your car without being interrupted. But since the advent of cell phones you can never really be “not here right now.” You are always here. So this has, in effect, turned the phone from a convenience to a giant homing device. We’re left to grope for excuses (“no reception,” “it was on silent,” “forgot the phone in my car”). Lies!* We’re all sitting somewhere with our phone next to us so that when Michael Jackson dies we get the CNN alert. You know what, I did hear the phone ring. I’m freaking attached to it. I just decided not to answer. And don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t love my phone. I incessantly check my email, peruse Facebook, and refresh my stock quotes. I just don’t want to talk to you.

The calls I dread most are of the “let’s catch up” variety. Look, I get it. You live in New York and I’m in Miami. Or we’re more than Facebook friends, but not so close that you know what I did last weekend. You feel obligated to call and catch up. But the thing is, I’m not twenty. I haven’t made plans to travel abroad, discovered a new career path, or had a drug-fueled one-night stand that I want to mull over in detail (“and then he put his penis in my armpit…”). Nor do I moonlight as a vigilante crime fighter (vigilantes have the best stories). I have the same job, live in the same place, and am still with Dan. Nothing interesting has happened this year. And our thirty minute attempt at sharing has just highlighted the monotony of my bourgeois existence. I have no news. Oh wait! Did I tell you I went for ice coffee this morning instead of drinking my usual drip coffee? It was crazy! I waited on line for fifteen minutes and then the barista gave me decaf by accident. Hahaha! Listen, if there was something to tell you (“I have a rare disease!”), I’d call. Otherwise, assume everything is the same. And no, I’m not engaged, but thanks for asking. Again.

A close runner up: people who call to make plans. Friend, this is why texting was invented. We don’t have to talk about what time we’re meeting for dinner tonight. You write, “8pm?” and I write back, “Sure.” Plans made. Instead, you want to have a conversation about it with all the boring pleasantries. “Hey. What are you doing?” Well, until you called and I felt obligated to pick up because we just IMed and you know that I’m sitting at my desk, I was writing something. I think it was something profound, maybe the best sentence ever written. There was a nuanced flow, an ironic turn of phrase, insight into the human condition, and a subtle reference to The Bachelorette. But then my phone rang and it was lost. All so we can have a five minute conversation about what time to meet for dinner. 8pm. Let’s meet at 8pm. Ugh.

Thing I love: bagels.

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* Really though, I don’t get reception in my apartment.

The Bachelorette Recap: Vol. 3

On a whim last week, Brooke threw it out there that maybe we would live blog this week’s episode. Spoiler Alert: We did not live blog this week’s episode. Brooke really wanted to, but I told her that there were four episodes left in the season and “Once you go live blog, you can never go back.” She said I said that like it’s a well-known saying. Whatever. Live blogging is a special event, likely saved for the last two, maybe three episodes. We’ll see.

LAST WEEK

Jake (or as I call him “Val Kilmer doing his best Val Kilmer”) is voted off along with Tanner, who even in rejection can’t stop talking about Jillian’s feet. Anyone else think they’re not that great? Anyone? What do I know – I like tits.

DATE #1: Reid, Philadelphia, PA.

This week is “home dates” and Jillian is excited to see all the guys in their “real settings” as opposed to on an old-timey train in Canada, where everyone knows you just can’t be yourself. Her first destination is Philly where Reid is waiting for her with open arms and two scalding hot cups of coffee. Unfortunately, Jillian is still bound by the “Run and Jump Into Everyone’s Arms” clause in her contract, creating a tense moment early on.

Luckily, after that everything between her and Reid gets back to boring. Reid seems nervous ALL THE TIME. Brooke takes one look at his parents and says, “Oy.” Sure enough, mom wants babies and she wants them now going so far as to call Jillian “adorable” which everyone knows is mom speak for “good enough.” Then the rest of Reid’s family bursts through the front door to throw him a surprise 30^th birthday party. Only in a Jewish (or Italian) family would the taping of a reality TV show segment be a good opportunity to get everyone together for a birthday party.

At the end of the night Reid is so turned on by all the mediocrity that he molests Jillian on the front porch. Philadelphia is so romantic.

DATE #2: Michael, Valencia, CA.

Michael is surprisingly upbeat for being a guy who has no chance of winning. He sneaks into the house on camera to surprise his parents, who are surprisingly good at faking being surprised. Good job, Michael’s parents! Maybe if the Fatchelor series doesn’t work out, they can star in a reality show about finding love even though you’re married.

When Jillian comes through the door, Michael gets so excited it seems like he may pee on her. Michael’s mom immediately whisks Jillian away to help in the kitchen, and everyone gets the impression that they’re just two moms hanging out in the kitchen. Yikes. Michael and his identical twin brother then try to fool Jillian by changing outfits like it’s 1930 (the last time people really fell for this trick), but Detective Jillian immediately sniffs out the plot. Michael LOVES this about her. He loves everything about her. Michael’s dad tells him that he’s surprised Jillian “isn’t a whore” (paraphrasing) and that Michael “shouldn’t hold back”. My dad’s advice would have been, “Now explain to me what’s happening here again?”

At dinner, Michael’s family plays their family dinnertime game called “Question for the Table,” also known as “conversation.” MORE SURPRISES when Michael’s sister comes back from Australia (really?) just to meet Jillian. The two girls hug and Michael loves that they’re getting along. Then the whole family caps the night the way they always do, by swing dancing in the living room. Michael loves that Jillian dances.

DATE #3: Kiptyn, San Diego, CA.

Jillian and Kiptyn’s forehead meet up on the beach and you can just tell that all Jillian wants to do is rub her face all over his six pack. Through the shirt, she doesn’t care. Jillian says, “This is where you live? It’s so beautiful,” and Kiptyn’s forehead is like, “Does she think I live on this beach?” Then they kiss. Kiptyn kisses like a duck.

They roll up to the house and HEY OH! Kiptyn’s family is loaded. Suddenly, Kiptyn’s job of “business developer” makes sense. He’s developing daddy’s money – into rock hard abs.

Like some sort of richy rich Indiana Jones challenge, Kiptyn’s parents have set up a food and wine paring taste test in the back yard. Jillian must guess which lasagna is the homemade one and which wine is the expensive one. Brooke calls the test a “pressure cooker.” (Zing!) Kiptyn’s forehead is like “I’M SO CONCERNED!” But then Jillian guesses right and everyone is relieved that they won’t have to throw her off the cliff. The mom picks up the cheap wine and dumps it on the ground saying, “Only my grandma drinks that.” Fuck you, grandma.

Back inside, everyone sits down to eat the rest of the homemade lasagna. Kiptyn’s sister is waving around her 25-karat ring while Mom asks Jillian what she would change about herself to make Kiptyn happier. Jillian answers that she “wouldn’t work so hard for her happiness.” Mom’s like, “Oh, that’s awful,” and takes a painting down off the wall so Jillian can sell it and buy herself some happiness.

After dinner, Kiptyn fulfills his shirtless quota by taking Jillian in the hot tub out back. Mom stands at the window watching them. Even the producers think that’s weird, and they focus in on her standing there for a long period of time. Kiptyn should use some of his mom’s Botox.

DATE #4: Jesse, Carmel, CA.

Jesse is just sitting around on his tractor waiting for Jillian. Brooke is like, “Break me off a piece of that!” She loves Jesse because he makes wine and seems a bit distant. Jillian has some concerns though. They take a tractor ride to a picnic in the vineyard (because, you know) and Jillian’s like “Are you ready for this to be real?” and Jesse’s like “What?” I think Jesse is too normal to be on this show.

Jump to dinner. Jesse’s family is a typical “We run a vineyard in California” family, whatever that means, but you know what I mean. Everything is going great until Jesse’s older brother Jacob opens up his facial haired mouth. A few key phrases are:

To Jillian

“You guys are expensive. You know, women. In general.”
“Have you been naked with Jesse yet?”
“Jesse’s an emotional ice cube.”

To Jesse

“Do you love this chick?”
“Does she want babies?”
“She’s a little cutie.”

Back inside, everyone (mom) is drunk and there’s another impromptu dance session in the living room. It’s like subliminal advertising for Dancing with the Stars. Before Jillian leaves, Jesse takes one more stab at opening up by telling Jillian how love is like a fine wine. (And he should know because he makes wine!) Who’s the emotional ice cube now, asshole?

DATE #5: Wes, Austin, TX.

MORES SURPRISES! This season is like a surprise orgasm. Instead of taking Jillian directly to meet his family, Wes first puts on a concert for Jillian. She cracks open a beer and Wes proceeds to play his song, which sounds like a crappy country song.

UH OH ALERT

Cut to Jake, rolling his wheelie suitcase through the airport with an air of defiance. He’s on his way to Austin to tell Jillian that Wes has a girlfriend. “My goal is to protect her,” he says. He’s like a superhero. Truthman! Or Meddling Man!

Back in Austin, Wes sings another shitty song. Jillian seems impressed/stupid. Someone needs to remind her that usually when someone writes a country song for your it’s because you broke their heart or they hate you.

Meanwhile, Jake fake calls Tanner for some fake advice. Should he tell Jillian? And which high-waisted jeans should he wear for . . .

TRUTHFEST 2009

Everyone meets up in the hotel’s corporate lounge. Jillian is surprised totally unsurprised to see Jake. Man, Jakes smiles so much! He’s trying to break the bad news to Jillian that there’s “something she needs to know about Wes.” He’s procrastinating so much that his grins look like gas pains, and Jillian asks, “Is Wes here for the wrong reasons?”

(Long dramatic pause.)

Finally she’s like, “Or is it something more?” Objection! Leading the actor.

Jake spits it out. “Wes has a girlfriend. Her name is Laurel.” Jillian puts on her best “Laurel is a slut” face while ominous piano music plays in the background. So that’s what “wrong reasons” means! Then Jake’s like, “If you need me, just call. With the bat signal,” and jumps out the window. Jillian doesn’t know what to do because the producers haven’t told her what to do yet. You’ll get your lines tomorrow, Jilly.

Jillian decides that her, Jake, and Wes need to sit down and talk this out like three responsible adults on a reality dating TV show. This is going to be so good! She starts by sitting down with Wes and asking him if there’s anything he needs to tell her. Good start. Lure him in. He says no, and Jillian seems kind of flustered. Ugh, Jillian is awful at dramatic confrontations. I guess they don’t get Paul Haggis movies in Canada. Finally, she comes clean and Wes is all, “Dude, me and Laurel are just friends now. And I can’t go backwards.” (Huh?)

Jake, who has seen tons of Paul Haggis movies, breaks down the door and is like, “I’ll handle this.” Jake doesn’t handle anything, and Wes uses his wily ability to calmly refute Jake’s accusations. Drats! Foiled again! Brooke calls the whole thing “a porn without the sex.”

Finally Jake leaves and cries. On his way home he stops to help deliver a litter of puppies, but the mom dog is like, “Nah, I got it.” No one wants Jakes’s help. Meanwhile Jillian apologizes to Wes and adds “standing up for herself” to “evaluating people, fighting, scene making, and clue deciphering” on the list of things she is awful at. They meet Wes’s family who are like “Wes is awesome!” and Jillian is reassured.

SPECIAL ED

Back at the hotel, Jillian’s like “Phew, I just can’t handle any more fake surprises.” Too bad, because there’s MORE SURPRISES. Ed has come back to tell Jillian that he has “reprioritized” (1. computers 2. true love 1. true love 2. computers) and wants another shot. Of course she invites him back because she hasn’t stopped talking about him since he left, except for those two episodes where she didn’t mention him at all. They hug it out because the passion is just too much.

ROSE CEREMONY

Everyone hates Ed. Now two guys are going home instead of one, and those two are Michael and Jesse, but no one’s really worried because this show is like Lost – no one’s ever really dead! (Except for Stephanie’s husband; he was really dead.)

Somewhere Michael’s sister is really pissed about coming back from Australia early.

NEXT WEEK

Everyone comes back to gang murder Wes!

I’m Sorry, I Couldn’t Hear You Above All My Subtle Yearning

Brooke: “We should play more games. Remember how much fun Scategories was?”
Dan: “Yeah, and I love that card game you taught me.”
Brooke: “Chinese poker?”
Dan: “Yes! And we could get Chinese checkers.”
Brooke: “Have you ever played mancala, with the beads? We should get a mancala board.”
Dan: “Oh, and we should get Wii.”
Brooke: “Yeah! And then we could just stare at the wall.”
Dan: . . .
Brooke: “If we got weed we wouldn’t have to play any games.”
Dan: “I said Wii.”

Breaking News: America Nearly Engulfed By Wave of Nostalgia After Michael Jackson Dies

Is it safe to come out yet? Is everything still here? Did someone put the pandas on the ark? Please tell me someone PUT THE PANDAS ON THE ARK!

For a while there I was worried because I saw the movie Deep Impact so I know that when The Big Nostalgia Comet hit, my only chance for survival would be to run to the top of a very large hill. And then I remembered I was in Florida (the topographical equivalent of an English muffin) and was like shit.

So I ripped open my Do Not Open in Case of Doomsday kit, took out the shaker, made a few martinis, and watched an episode of Party Down. Then I woke up this morning and logged onto Facebook, the new national emergency broadcast system, expecting chaos.

But good news, America: We made it! Of course there were still people like:

(Side note: Did that guy just call Michael Jackson his god? I’d hate to get stuck in traffic on that bandwagon.)

But by and large people seem to be back to normal – updating the cosmos about their plans for the weekend, the progress their toddlers are making at growing up, and the annoying neighbors vacuuming upstairs. And I’m not going to pretend to be some sort of cultural bellwether (I watch Dawson’s Creek repeats), but isn’t this how it should be? I mean, it’s all well and good if you prefer to remember the King of Pop version of Michael Jackson and be a bit sad that the guy who once owned MTV is no longer around, but let’s not fill the ether with e-R.I.P.s (they crashed Twitter, for tweet’s sake!) and pretend that the Yikesael Jackson version never existed. Does the Neverland Ranch and Bed Sharing Resort ring a bell? Hanging your baby over a balcony? THIS?

All I’m suggesting is that maybe we should look where we’re moonwalking. And take solace in the fact that even if someone forgot the pandas, we’ve still got the elephants painted like pandas. It’s gonna be okay.

It’s black. It’s white. It’s tough for you.

The Bachelorette Recap (Vol. 2)

Hi, it’s Brooke again. Not by choice this time. See, I have lots of ideas (“Let’s move to Thailand and teach English!” “Let’s write a novel”), but I’m not so big on the follow through (“Let’s take naps instead. I really love naps.”) So when I proposed blogging about The Bachelorette, I just thought it was one of those things Dan would ignore like my post-midnight feeling sharing or my refusal to properly screw tops back on. But no, last Tuesday, he actually posted a Bachelorette recap, and then promised that I would write this week’s. So here goes.

SETTING

OK, so they’re going on a train. This results in several advertisements accolades about how awesome trains are, specifically the Rocky Mountain Express. Several people excitedly say they’ve never been on a train before. I think this is something embarrassing that hicks should keep to themselves.

DATE #1: Robby (bartender, 25)

Robby is given the first date card. He says, “Trains are the perfect place to fall in love.” Really? I always thought of them as the perfect place to get wrapped up in a mysterious caper. Whatever. Camera flashes to Jillian decorating her train car like a harem. My initial impressions of Robby: This guys is lame. Boo. Robby is a 25-year-old bartender or as my mom would call him, marriage material. (My mom was sarcastic.) I mean, part of me feels bad for Robby. Last week it was all glacier-jumping ice planes and zip lining. And he gets a ride in a train. What a loser. Anyhow, he says things like:

“I’m young, I’m 25, I’m in-between jobs right now, I haven’t had a relationship in a couple of years…”

“I wish I had a bigger vocabulary.”

“There are so many ideas going through my head, it’s stupid.”

So yeah, Robby is stupid. So Jillian ditches him and the genius producers (seriously guys, I respect this decision) leave Robby in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. The rest of the guys watch him fade away as the train chugs along. Pathetic. But it does give me an idea for a new show: The Bachelor: Survivor Edition. After you’re thrown off you have to fight for your life to make it back to civilization.

DATE #2: Group Date

Anyhow, next is the group date and they play in the snow (again) and drink by a fireplace (again). Jillian gets some private time with the following gentlemen.

Captain America Jake:

Jake is like a fighter pilot from ‘50s-era conformist propaganda. Tall, blond, square jaw line, latent homosexual tendencies. He keeps talking about how nice guys finish last. And girls don’t want the nice guys. Sure, we women prefer to be tossed around when we misbehave, but could it be that you have the personality of a rag? You’re weak and needy. Also you use words like “golly” and “neat.” Man up, Jake. I really think he would benefit from a night of blow and hookers. Jake’s last words: “I wanted to kiss her but I didn’t.” Loser.

Kiptyn’s Forehead:

Next up is Kiptyn’s forehead. I like Kiptyn, but he needs some Botox. I find his wrinkly forehead distracting. Anyhow, they have great chemistry. He touches her butt a little, which I support. He’s a shoo-in for a bang card.

Foot Fetish Guy Tanner:

The producers are really editing geniuses. Following a discussion about what everyone wears to sleep, Tanner has a voiceover: “I want her to know about my family. I’ve got to step it up.” On screen, he pulls down his pants and shows his tightie whities and his enormous(!!) package. Which oddly enough is just what Dan did when he wanted me to meet his family. Kidding, Dan wears boxer briefs. Anyhow, cut to Tanner giving Jillian a foot massage. He boasts to camera: “She knows I have a foot fetish and she knows I was blessed.” He’s feeling pretty cocky. Ha. They do a close-up of her feet. They actually are really pretty. This guy sucks. Next.

Jesse:

Team Jesse! He’s sincere. And real pretty. I like him. Also, he’s a winemaker! And as Friend Amy texted, “The fact that he is a winemaker makes him WAY hotter than he actually is.” (Friend Amy loves to drink.)

Virgin Michael:

Michael is a 25-year-old break dance instructor. He’s goofy and sweet and young. He’s just so naïve. I’d fuck him to teach him a lesson. I think Jillian might, too.

Wes:

I refuse to discuss Wes in any capacity. I hate you, Wes. You are on my Blacklist™.

DATE #3: Reid (30, realtor)

Man, Reid is so nebbishy (look it up, Goyim). He repeatedly calls himself neurotic. And while they don’t say he’s Jewish, when Jillian says “it feels like Christmas morning,” he responds, “I know what Christmas morning is like. You wake up and there are no presents.” And c’mon, there’s no way they’d have a Muslim on the show, or GOD forbid, an atheist. Anyhow, the next scene was cut and paste from Along Came Polly. Jillian eats fondue and Reid admits he’s a hypochondriac and is uncomfortable with the raw meat. Just like Ben Stiller! Jillian: “I want to meet his family and see how we would relate to each other.” I really hope they discuss their religious differences. The Bachelorette: now with more reality.

Rose Ceremony

And the winners are: Kiptyn’s Forehead, Winemaker Jesse, Virgin Michael, Jew-y Reid, D-Bag Wes.

Next Week

Awkward family moments and erectile dysfunction! Dan and I will (possibly) live blog it.

1001 Things I Hate

Let’s be honest, Dan doesn’t always write as much as we’d all like him to. And despite my constant love and support (“Make me laugh, Monkey Boy!”), sometimes his creativity is tapped. But it’s not because he doesn’t love this blog. I mean, sometimes you love something, but it’s there every day, so you don’t appreciate it. You stop bringing it flowers. And it’s not the blog’s fault. Like, whatever if the blog doesn’t get dressed up anymore. Who cares if the blog has worn the same pajamas for three days and hasn’t washed its hair? It’s still the same blog. And more importantly, beneath those skanky pajamas are awesome tits. So don’t neglect the blog, Dan.

Anyhow, to supplement Dan’s posts, I’m starting my own column. It’s called 1001 Things I Hate and it’s about stuff I hate.* 1001 things? Well, yeah. I hate 1000 and 1 things and I have a list. (Totally separate from my Blacklist™, which is people I hate.) And now, #1:

Men Who Tell Me To Smile

Don’t do this. Don’t tell women to smile. No woman has ever said to another woman, “Smile!” But yet, countless times, I’ve been told by a man, “Smile!” or worse, “What’s the matter, Sweetie? Smile!” What gives you the right? I’m not a puppy. I know it might make you uncomfortable, Dude on the Elevator. You walked on, saw a chick, made a paltry attempt at flirting, and I didn’t respond. This is so disconcerting. Listen, I’m sorry to disrupt your projected feminine ideals, your stifled two-dimensional characterization. But why do you assume my lack of smile means something is wrong? Do you walk around all day smiling like a fulfilled Playmate? Maybe I’m thinking about war, or scotch, or sex. Maybe I’m thinking about work. Maybe I work. I know this is all too much. And I should just smile. But I won’t because I hate you, Dude on the Elevator. You are on my Blacklist™.

Thing I Love: The smell of coconut.

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* Conversation when I sent this post to Dan:

Dan: “Um . . . ok, I’m just not sure I get it.”
Brooke: “What do you mean?”
Dan: “Well, it’s just that . . . I’m not so sure I get the joke.”
Brooke: “There’s no joke.”
Dan: . . .
Brooke: “It’s called 1001 Things I Hate. Not 1001 Things That Humorously Irritate Me.”
Dan: “Aren’t you worried it sounds a little, er, angry?”
Brooke: “I am angry.”
Dan: “Oh.”