Holy smokes, the mountain of mierda del toro is growing exponentially each week with El Bachelor. This guy is the biggest phony that they've probably ever had on the show. Hallelujah! Since this season doesn't really seem to have an uber-bitch, the bachelor himself is filling her shoes quite nicely. No, he's not catty or backstabbing or duplicitous. He's merely frontin' empathy for girls he's tossed that we know he doesn't really feel deep down; sticking his tongue down the throat of five women in one night while simultaneously claiming he doesn't want to give his daughter the wrong idea; and, worst of all, his eyes are set too close together. It's bugging me.
This week the ladies went to the depths of Mordor in their quest to find their golden wedding ring (My precious!).
Of all the places this show has gone, New Zealand sure looks the coolest (and most gorgeous). Yet having the coochie crew sit in the set of the Hobbit wasn't exactly romantic. I kept expecting an eight foot tall Ian McKellen to poke his head through the door. Better yet, Smaug. He could incinerate the entire room.
Ah, I kid. There are some girls there that I wouldn't want to see the flesh charred off of, particularly Sharleen.
She's the opera singer that was repulsed the first night when he gave her the "first impression" rose, and she's steadily been trying to muster feelings for him ever since, perhaps digging down into her Puccini stores for some forced pathos. This week he beso-bombs her before she can even say hello during their brief one-on-one time. She's not feeling it, it's apparent, which is too bad, because he's nuts about her. If she would just let go and become a fellow phony, she could probably see herself on the cover of People with an engagement ring on in a few weeks. But no. She hints this week that she's about to bale.
Then there's Clair.
She plays the game perfectly. She looks perfect. She's "real," and says what's on her mind. She's shocked when Juan Pablo asks her for a second one-on-one date, which the producers obviously forced him to do so that he could apologize for slut-shaming her about banging him in the ocean the week before. He sort of says he's sorry, but mostly Clair is relieved that he is still interested in her even though she's obviously a cheap and impure puta. We all know that was the reason for her tears last week. it wasn't that she was worried about how his daughter would feel about what happened (she's four fucking years old! She will think they were snorkeling!), she was worried that she'd blown it with El Guapo Fantastico. I was thinking that she would make a great Bachelorette, but due to the weird sexual mores and norms of this show, the fact that she screwed the Bachelor already, outside of the confines of the sacred Fantasy Suite, has probably voided her candidacy. She's more Ginger than Mary Ann, and that don't fly with ABC.
Next week everyone is headed back to the states, to Miami, for more bikini shots and of course vignettes with the Father of the Year and his beloved brat Camilla. Ay chihuahua.