Tuesday, June 11, 2013

I'm with you for all the right reasons.

I am 3 episodes deep with no chance of rescue.

I have such a love/hate relationship to this show because the sane part of me knows that it is 2 hours of my life that I am wasting on actual crap TV that is of absolutely no benefit to the bettering of my life. On the other hand, it is so incredibly entertaining to watch 30 men behave like like princess girls for 2 hours fighting for a girl and “true love”. The fact that only 4 of the 24 couples from this show have successfully made it and remained together does nothing for their cause.

I have had to decide each season to either vehemently ignore the show or dive right in and embrace the horrific and embarrassing episodes that comprise the show. There is no grey area for me and reality TV. Like with chocolate, I have no self control.

So first and foremost- I don’t know if I like the bachelorette Desiree. I mean, she hasn’t done anything to offend me per say (minus the rap video- that was just awful) but I have yet to “get” what she is all about beside being smiley and positive all the fucking time. Like, why don’t you be a little nicer and MORE sickly sweet?

Not that the show has even been a beacon for fashion but Desiree’s wardrobe is straight out of Urban Behavior. Those pale peach legging jeans of yesterday? I don’t care who you are or what your legs look like, just.dont.wear.pastel.leggings.as.pants.ever.

Which brings me to the dudes.

There is no denying that muscle was a prerequisite for getting on this show. I can see the form to enter now; the entrant must have very large muscles and neatly trimmed to non-existent chest hair- must be willing to display both in inappropriate times throughout the duration of the show and must own neon swim trunks- pink is preferable.

Boys, put on a shirt. If you want us to ogle your chiseled chests, make us work for it! Or at least make us believe that you really are the sweet soul that you claim to be- the humble men who are “just looking for love”. Humble men do not converse int he kitchen with other men all topless for no reason. There was no pool party, no ban on T-shirts that the viewer was made aware of- shtappppppppp. I like me some pecs and abs the same as the next girl but it is really hard to take you seriously when you are half naked at any moment of any given day.

Mind you, with the questionable wardrobe some men have brought with them- I am not sure that being dressed is any better. Unless you are a member of the Scarface mafia or Miami Vice (and then, even still) it is best you button up your shirt to a reasonable level. If your bellybutton is showing, suffice to say you are not buttoned up enough.

Also, I love a man in color. It can be sexy as hell. BUT if your shirt is a primary color of the rainbow and/or you have a matching tie- just no. plaid shirts worn as dress shirts- just no and shiny shirts- just no. when she gave a rose last night to Mikey T who donned a black and white large checkered shirt with tie and blazer, I questioned her taste (ok, I began that questioning when she wore that hideous blue dress).

Clothing aside, I totally love some of these guys- and by love I mean like and by like, I mostly mean like to watch and laugh at.
Brooks- so cute- such a poonany. Sorry but I have broken a finger before and I certainly did not require ER and oxygen.
Michael “Type 1 diabetes”- I really like this one and he is a lawyer (WAY better than the college pro painter who told her he loved her last night after 2 weeks). He totes talks about his diabetes a bit too much for my personal taste but then, I am not looking for love on a trashy dating show.
Juan Pablo- former football pro. Yes please.

The rest of the guys make me barf in my mouth a bit. When James went to kiss her I def dry heaved. If Mikey T tries it I may full out hurl.

The rest bore me- lying Ben- who the F cares?

Alls I can tell you is that they better be there for the “right reasons, right reasons” (anyone else rapping in their heads???)

So, ya. The Bachelorette. Totes watching it. FML.

J

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