Turning Shit into Gold since 2006
If you live your life to watch seemingly rational individuals self destruct under the influence of endless flutes of champagne then you know that it is that time in the continuous rotation of reality television where one soul woman searches for one soul man to share all eternity with. From a tepid pool of twenty-five male contestants, Bachelorette Emily Maynard had her hands full on last night’s premier of ABC’s long running expose on true love, The Bachelorette.
The wacky, nervous, and obnoxiously confident mix of bachelors who descended on Emily’s hometown of Charlotte, N.C., were too quick to bust out embarrassing dance moves and costumes in the hopes of erasing any doubts that Emily might have about their participation on the show. Some of these guys would have been better off auditioning for America’s Got Talent then The Bachelorette. One potential suitor arrived by helicopter, another dude dressed up as a granny in hopes of wooing the self- proclaimed southern belle, while David used his mediocre singer/songwriter skills to make himself standout from the crowd. A few guys stooped so low as to use the single dad angle to drum up sympathy from fellow single mama Emily, who has a six-year-old daughter called Little Ricky. Named after her deceased racecar-driving father who died in a plane crash (hmmm. That’s odd.), she is the perfect mix of wedlock and wealthy grandparents. Adorbs for sure.
Booze flowed as freely as the adjectives used to describe the desperate wife seeking men. Many attempted to swoon with far off accents, like the melty face Val Kilmer lookalike, Alejandro, while others used tried and true flattery to gain rose broached entry into the next round.
After a final round of cocktail mingling it was time to hand out the first impression rose. Although one ‘F’ Jef was in the initial running for the rose, it was sad sap single dad Doug won Emily over with a lengthy letter his eleven-year-old son had written to his potential new mother. Tears flowed and hearts were set a flutter with his genius ploy. I may be way off here, but I am pretty positive that Doug wrote the corny letter himself. It was also super creepy how he kept inquiring about little Ricky’s
adjustment to the equally creepy daddy hunt that her mother had embarked on.
Once the final rose of the night was passed out and the six lame, roseless men were sent packing it was time to toast to the future. It was also time to look at a preview of key events in the coming season. Betrayal, Dolly Parton, hot tub cuddling, European picnics, and of course lots and lots of tears. Looks like this season plans on debunking the old myth that big boys don’t cry, because from the sneak peek viewers were offered last night these guys seem quite comfortable crying on camera.
If you like to see the shameless unraveling of strangers on national television I advise you to tune every Monday as Emily pulls up her big girl panties and finds her a good man.