Month: August 2012

Fifty New Plot Twists (Fifty Shades Freed: pgs. 351-400)

I have dreams, gentle reader.

My dream was to finish the literary anal fissure that is Fifty Shades Freed before my return to work on Tuesday.

But alas, this dream is dead as so many have gone before it. Why did this happen?

Because this book is too long and my brain is too worn-out like an overused vaginal ball. (For previous recraps, click here)

But let’s carry on because I will have to watch my child at some point. I know Hugo and Goofy are anxious to continue, right guys?

That’s the spirit.

For three sentences, things seem sunshiny in Ana Steele Grey’s narrow world of stupid. But then holy crap plot twist, fifty shaders, Ana receives a call from José’s  father that her stepdad Ray was in a car accident and lying in a coma of contrivance.

Ana does a few things that are pretty amazing in the sense that they are impossible. First she can’t reach Christian so she groans silently with frustration. How does one groan silently exactly? Then she “keens quietly” in the backseat. What will she do next? Scream peacefully? Hiccup voluntarily?

Christian finally calls and says he will have to meet her at the hospital because he’s hammering out some made-up business deal with the Taiwanese. Why do I know nothing about this? Ana thinks trivially. Because the only hammering you care about, Ana, is the peen kind.

She arrives at the hospital, and mutterly screams in her head about the last time she was in the ER for twisting her ankle.  She shudders at that memory. Yes, that seems really awful. I’m sure the guy in the ER who’d been stabbed multiple times really felt for you.

She asks for Ray Steele, and the nurse says let me check Miss Steele. “I nod, not bothering to correct her.” Wow, what an asshole to even have this thought. Ray’s lucky you’re here, Ana.

She sees José and Mr. Rodriguez, also named José (very inventive, E.L.), in the waiting room. José Senior said the car they were driving in was hit by a drunk driver. Christian arrives, and his face darkens when he sees José holding Ana’s hand. Oh for fuck’s sake.

He’s all up in her bizness about eating. The doctor arrives. “All the blood disappears from my head as I stumble to my feet” Ana dumb thinks. This actually explains quite a bit about Ana. And then she thinks this gem: “Under any other circumstances, I would have found the doctor attractive.” The doctor addresses her as Miss Steele. Mrs. Grey, Christian corrects because his penis is enraged.

The Josés leave, and Ana sits on Christian’s lap in the waiting room. Hmmm…that seems normal.

Ray’s out of surgery so Ana and Christian go see him. The nurse predictably gets wet at the sight of Christian Grey’s stupid face, and Ana has the generous thought of “Incongrously I’m thinking blonde is not her true color.” Can the drunk driver just crash through the hospital room now?

They check in at the Heathman, the setting of their first twisted encounter. Christian’s shaken because he normally sees Ana as brave and strong. Really? When? I want some muther fucking page numbers, y’all.  Because I’ve never seen it, and I’ve read over 1,300 pages of this twat rot. Oh dear christ…I’m going to go jump off a building.

The next day is Ana’s birthday. She is 3 in dog years. Christian gives her a charm bracelet, and I shit you not, one of the charms is an ice cream cone, a shout-out to the ice-cream-in-the-vag bacterial nightmare. She later thinks “Ben & Jerry’s & Ana” and I gouge my eyes out with blowtorch. He also buys her a sports car, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the brake line will be severed.

They reenact some of their finest Heathman moments. She uses his toothbrush. Gack.  She reminisces how she was just a 21-year-old butt plug then and now she is a 22-year-old prostate massager. She toots “I’m getting old.” Fuck you.

In the infamous elevator of tongue-jamming, the duo get all hot and bothered and jam tongues again.

After visiting with Ray, Ana meets Christian in the waiting room. He looks angry and is speaking a completely implausible one-sided phone conversation.

They go to lunch. Ana suggests the restaurant where they got back together in Fifty Shades Darker. “Do you think that supercilious fucker is still waiting tables?” Christian asks. God I hope he spit in your food.

They get ready for dinner and get on the elevator with two other women. The sight of Christian Grey causes the women to lose all their vaginal fluids. They also hate Ana. Yes ladies, he’s mine. Fuck fuck. That’s all I have just fuck fuck.

Christian has arranged a surprise birthday party.

At the hospital again, the staff encourages Ana to talk to Ray about her life to get him to snap out of his coma.

With Ray awake, Ana finally feels like really doing it, and yuck connection. She’s so turned on she even thinks Why are his feet so hot? Christian ties her to the sofa, and orders her to feel herself up. He bellows “Come on Ana!” and she does on cue.

And that’s where I leave you, fifty shader. Incongruously, I’m thinking this book is shitballs.

A Pad of Illiterates

Only two more episodes left, Bachelor Pad 3 fans. Can I call you that?

It seems like only yesterday 400 or so contestants were drinking and releasing fluids into the pool. And now only 10 contestants remain to imbibe and frolic in the herpes-infested water.

The previous elimination ceremony was devastating to Rachel who lost her partner Michael. We begin with her weeping upstairs.

Host Chris Harrison shows up to say contestants will be playing as partners now, which means they will be eliminated as partners. Rachel seeks out the only remaining unpartnered male left.

The challenge is a spelling bee, and unsurprisingly the contestants can’t spell for shit. They quickly knock off monosyllabic words like “love” “hole” and “poop,” but choke on the “harder” words like “dignity.”

It’s down to two teams: Jaclyn and Ed and Chris B. and Sarah. Everyone hates Chris B. and hopes he goes down in flames. He wins by being only slightly less stupid than Ed. Chris B and Sarah win immunity and an overnight date in a shit-filled barn. Ed and Jaclyn also win an overnight date.

Rachel continues to pine for her partner and refers to herself as a widow. Nick tries to get her on board by saying Michael would have wanted it this way, as if Michael died rather than just got eliminated on a third-rate crappy reality show.

Jaclyn, Blakely and Rachel pinkyswear that they will vote for Kalon and Lindzi to be eliminated. Blakely excited she’s one more show closer to winning $250,000. “I can get cable,” she sads.

Ed and Jaclyn’s date card arrives. Jaclyn interviews she’s scared of rejection and of falling in love. If you remember from the previous recrap, Ed has been quite vocal about his lack of interest in Jaclyn.

He continues that trend on their awkward picnic date, telling Jaclyn that he is pursuing a relationship with a woman outside of reality television. He does, however, still enjoy using Jaclyn’s body as his own private plaything.

Meanwhile at the pad of delusion, Tony and Blakely continue to feign interest in one another. Tony blathers that he’s really fake falling for her.

We cut to an even more uncomfortable dinner with Ed and Jaclyn where Ed continues to insert his foot into his mouth. He lovingly tells her to calm down and not label anything, and expresses his desire to continue peen-sticking with no commitment or hassle. He’s a prince, that one.

When they return to the house, they learn they can hand out an immunity rose to one of the remaining couples. Couples come with hat in hand begging for mercy while Godfather-esque music plays in the background. Lindzi declares “I’m your bitch.” Someone leaves a horse head in someone’s bed. And the rose goes to Blakely and Tony.

Kalon makes a last ditch effort to stick around by trying to convince others to vote for Rachel and Nick. Blakely and Tony seem receptive. Nick cannot believe the injustice. He confronts Tony and Blakely.

Tony is agog at Nick’s accusations of betrayal.

Rachel’s worried her partner has ruined their chances. She laments her loss of Michael and rewrites a Candle in the Wind” using the nickname they came up with for Michael’s peen, Wicky. Nick is “livid” he says although, once again, it’s hard to tell since he’s already so red.

At the elimination ceremony, Kalon and Lindzi are sent packing. Nick realizes he needs to bond with his partner Rachel if they’re going to have a chance to win.

And that’s basically it. I leave you with this random footage from the episode.

Fifty Shades Freed is Unreadable (pgs. 301-350)

For previous installments, click here

Dear E.L. James:

Ugh, this goddamned book.

I’m sorry I didn’t mean to start with a vulgarity, but I just read the worst 50 pages of sentences  you clearly shite directly out of your bottom onto a piece of paper.

This speaks volumes because I read Fifty Shades of Grey  in its entirely and the ice-cream-in-the-vag monstrosity in Fifty Shades Darker. I’ve been slogging my way through Fifty Shades Freed, the shittiest of the trilogy, since the beginning of August. Now my grievance is not that you are a terrible writer–you are–but that you have created the two worst fictional people on the planet.

Ana and Christian Grey are just…ugh. They are just ugh. The only way this book can be saved is if they drown in their own bodily fluids. Does that happen? Please say it does.

I understand this began as fan fiction. You were reading Twilight and masturbating with a  marbly, sparkling snow globe, and basically created sludge from santorum-like source material. Doesn’t excuse all the butt pluggery behavior of your two protagonists.

So I started pages 301-350, and Ana, Christian and their worshippers are at a club, and this is what I read:

And I just fill up with hate. I feel like there should be some type of reciprocity, like you should be forced to read the play I wrote in German in 12th grade or all my city council meeting newspaper articles.

Mia, Christian’s sister, wants to dance and “throw some shapes.” Yeah, that’s not a saying. Maybe in Britain, but not here, and if it is a saying in Britain, this is why America declared independence. Ana wobbles out onto the dance floor because she’s drunk the equivalent of four bottles of wine and weighs 80 pounds. Ana’s surprised she can suddenly dance since she spent the first 20 years of her life in a dog crate reading books.

Ana dumbthinks she can dance because Christian has stuck numerous objects in down there. Never let Ana be a dance teacher.

She feels hands on her and thinks it’s Christian so she grinds her butt into his groin. Nope, not Christian, just some random meathead. Ana screams and slaps him. The guy backs off and then Christian punches him after the fact. Unfortunately he is not arrested for assault.

Ana dumb wonders why she did it, and we get this chestnut:

Christian’s still mad, but he does some sensual dancing. They do everything, but peen-stick on the dance floor and Christian makes the loving declaration “No one touches what’s mine.”

Awesome.

E.L., you do realize that owning people is not considered cool? Like if any man ever said that to me, I would first laugh because obviously he had to be joking, and then I would leave because…gross.

Ana’s drunk. They leave. He takes off her make-up. They “joke” about watching her pee and I die. She’s mesmerized by his pajama bottoms.

He’s not going to bury himself in her tonight but he orders her to sleep. “‘When I come back to bed, I’ll expect you to be asleep.’ It’s a threat, a command. . . it’s Christian.” Jesus christ. Hate. Hate right now searing in my brain.

He buries himself in her later when they go through a rape fantasy sex game. Really, the worst 50 pages. Afterwards, Christian says something totally normal. “You confound me.” No one talks like this, E.L., no one. It doesn’t make him sound poetic or smart, it makes him sound like you’re a terrible writer.

At breakfast, Ana surreptitiously watches Christian walk outside with the help. He picks up a bamboo stick and swipes it. Oh…she farts out of her brain. Is this anything? Is he going to cane her or are we just wasting my goddamned time? I’m expecting the latter because you write as if you are recording the day to day events of dildos.

Ah wonderful! The motherfracking email exchange! And it’s like we’re actually at work with Ana. We get to experience her assistant coming in. Should we go over your schedule? Yes, cancel my 10:30…oh excuse me the phone is ringing. Hello? Oh hi Roach. Yes I’ll come up to your office in 20 minutes. She farts into a chair. You realize you can condense all this into: Ana goes to work. It doesn’t need to be seven pages.

Then more emails and at first I was really confused–oh excuse me, confounded– because they’re talking about events that I haven’t read about and then I realize this is how you’re showing the passage of time, and it’s just not necessary. No one gives a shit about any of this. He emails about some good time with vaginal balls at some Dipshit Association dinner, and other sexual innuendo that makes me believe you, E.L., do not understand innuendo. Pointless.

Then we get a visit from Leila the ex-sub who tried to kill Ana, and Ana’s like “What’s up dawg?” And Ana’s all confused that Christian has a list of people forbidden to see her. Really? I’m not. I’m just surprised Ana’s not stuck in some cage in his basement. The Leila visit is uninspired, and Ana has immature jealous thoughts through the whole thing and compares herself to Leila, and E.L., I’m sorry your world is so small. Lovely women exist in the world. I’m sorry you can’t see that.

Christian’s all angerball. He angrily murmurs and strokes his face with his slim-jim fingers, and pfftt. And you try to pass it off as him just wanting Ana safe. No, E.L., he’s an abusive prick.

Ugh.

Just ugh to it all.

With searing hatred,

Speaker7

P.S. Why is this book so mutherfracking long? I know it’s neat when you learn how to cut and paste, but that doesn’t mean you should cut and paste huge chunks of paragraphs and try to pass it off as something new. If I have to read one more time how Ana is spent after a bout of boring peen-sticking, I’m going to fly to England and hit you in the head with a sack of vaginal balls.

Fifty Shades Procrastination (Fifty Shades Freed: pgs. 251-300)

Oh boy.

So it’s been nearly two weeks since I’ve written a Fifty Shades Fuckadoodle recrap. Why is that?

Oh right because this book is the literary equivalent of a raging hemorrhoid. And like a raging hemorrhoid, this book inflames my anal cavity with the intensity of all of Jupiter’s suns combined.

Before I begin, I would like to direct readers to some truly phenomenal mockery of Fifty Shades on display at Alice at Wonderland. More people need to read this because it is the opposite of a raging hemorrhoid. Alice is currently recapping Fifty Shades Darker by interviewing E.L. James’ moronic fictional creations. For her earlier work on Fifty Shades of Grog, start here. Seriously, her recapping is so good, Hugo asked if he could work for her. Hugo believes my work has been “uninspired.” Wait–was uninspired what Hugo said?

That’s right.

I don’t even remember where I last left off (for previous recraps, go here). Likely Ana had Christian’s freakishly long fingers inside her. She might have said “Crap” or “Bloop”. Christian probably planted a flag in Ana’s down there to stake his claim. He might have even made a taxidermied hamster out of it. They most definitely muttered and murmured because no one can ever just “say” anything in this book.

Pretty much nothing happens in pages 251-300. The short summary is this: Ana buys a dress in Aspen.

The long summary is lots of sentences are written about other things. So I guess I’ll have to mention a little bit about those.

After Christian wouldn’t let Ana come, he tells her that Jack Hyde was the one who cut the brakes on the helicopter or whatever. Holy fuck. Hyde was planning on kidnapping Ana. Holy fuck. Christian thinks Detroit is the connection because both Jack and Christian were born there. Holy…pfft.

Just wait…it gets worse.

Ana wakes up to Christian having a nightmare. She soothes him with comforting words and warm milk. I’m joking. It’s a lot of peen-sticking. He tells her to “Come for me” and she does like a trained homing pigeon. Ana falls asleep then wakes up again to sad twinkle fingers on the piano.

Christian is the sad piano man because his adult wife “won’t do as she’s told. She drives me crazy. She safe-words me.” Aw, that’s sweet that he’s sad his wife called the kibosh on his emotional manipulation. He then says he dreamt she was dead, but leaves out the part where he was the one who murdered her.

The next day, Christian drives Ana to his lear jet. He has a surprise. He’s taking her to Aspen along with Kate, Elliot, Mia and Ethan. Ana dislikes the purring flight attendant because Natalia is brunette, and Ana is a raging hemorrhoid.

On the plane Kate asks questions about the Jack Hyde situation because she is as close to normal as you’re going to get in this book. Of course, Ana is all pissed off in her head at Kate’s audacity to question anything concerning Christian.

Suddenly the plane hits some major turbulence. The pilot loses control and the plane crashes into the ground.

Sorry, that did not happen. That’s just a dream of mine. I’m going to take a break for a second and play some sad piano music.

I’m back. What’s happened. Oh yes, the sextet arrives at Christian’s palatial Aspen house. Ana’s all icky-poo about being rich and having servants, and she thinkfarts Oh my, it’s so hard being rich. 

Upon entering the house, a trick wire is ignited and the house explodes.

No, that did not happen as much as I tried to will it to happen. I even bought that crappy book The Secret and tried to positive-think that into happening. Ana and the girls do girl things like shop and get paid less for the same work. Christian and the boys do boy things like fish and restrict women’s access to abortion.

Kate confides that Elliot seems distant, and Ana feigns concern, but secretly laps it up because she hates their normal relationship in light of the fact she married a walking butt plug. Mia convinces Ana to buy a dress–she refers to it as The Dress because she is a rectal sausage–that barely covers her ass, and she thinkfarts Oh, but I’m so plain and this dress makes me look like I have really long, perfect legs. I struggle so much…without Christian’s penis inside me.

The sextet eats dinner like humans do, and Elliot proposes to Kate. She accepts and then the restaurant explodes.

Sorry, more wishful thinking. They go clubbing, and Ana refers to the hostess as “Miss Satin Hot Pants” because she is Miss Asshole Face Jerkwad.

And that’s really it. An extremely necessary and illuminating 50 pages of hemorrhoid-inducing awesomeness. I should probably stock up on some Preparation H®.

A Pad of Ass

Chris B. is feeling down, you guys.

His Bachelor Pad besties have betrayed him. The woman he would alternately make out with or ignore has been voted off. His ex-partner Blakely has been saved and Chris hates her stupid face. He does the only thing he can think of as a “grown ass man.”

He gets into his little bunk bed and pulls the covers over his giant head.

His partner Sarah comes over and tries to coax Chris out with a graham cracker, but he’s, like, so grown-ass-man upset, yo! Then his ex-bestie Kalon comes in and Chris B. says “You’re a lying jerky poop head.”

Chris finally pulls himself out of bed to solely go yell at Ed, his other ex-bestie. He shouts at Ed to not shout at him. And keeps repeating the phrase “grown-ass man” in a manner that speaks to the opposite.

Ed has had enough or he needs to pee and he storms out, flinging a wine glass in his wake. He grown-ass says “This game is stupid.” And finally I agree with a contestant on something.

It’s the next day. Chris said he couldn’t sleep, and Tony responds “Relationships are tarnished. Trust is gone.” Not too melodramatic.

The challenge is The Great Fall of China, which involves the contestants carry stacks of teacups without dropping them. Blakely’s excited because she has worked at Hooters for 13 years.

Chris is bitching because he doesn’t think it’s fair. I’m sorry, Chris, I’m sure they’ll have a contest you’ll be good at like whiny bitching.

Blakely and Tony win. They decide to go on the date together so they give their immunity rose to Kalon. Kalon goes on a bridge date with Lindzi and kind of non professes his non love.

Blakely and Tony go on a trailer park date and feign interest in one another.

Tony and Blakely decide to give the remaining rose to Jaclyn despite Chris’s best efforts to get the rose for his partner Sarah.

Host Chris Harrison shows up to stoke the flames of drama. He asks all the couples about their coupledom, and Ed actually answers truthfully that he’s not interested in anyone in the house while his partner Jaclyn looks like she’s been punched in the stomach.

Chris Harrison tells the contestants that in this elimination round all the contestants will vote for one woman and that woman will choose the man she will take with her.

Chris B. knows he’s not long for the Bachelor Pad Gonorrhea Emporium. He attempts to come up with a strategy.

He tries to patch things up with Ed, and get Ed on board with voting off Lindzi. Ed says he can’t believe they were acting like stupid 15-year-old boys while being dressed exactly like 15-year-old boys.

Michael, the don of Bachelor Pad, tries to convince Erica that Chris B. is leading the brigade to get her voted off. Michael knows that he is vulnerable being the top Bachelor Pad dawg (what a distinction!), and wants Erica to take Chris with her. But his plan backfires when Chris brings Erica into the voting booth with him and shows his vote for Lindzi. A-doy.

Erica is voted off and takes Michael with her. In her valley-girl drone, she lists all the ways Michael sucks.

Michael’s partner Rachel is devastated and wants to leave with him, but he tells her to stay and “enjoy the experience.”

And that’s it! So much grown-assness that I actually grew another ass. Or it could be all the potato chips I consumed while watching this. . . whatever it is, I have grown.

An ass.

Ibex Peen and Perfume: New York Travels

I actually left my home and laptop, and traveled to New York City this past weekend.

It was weird. There was the outside and real people and very limited access to wireless networks so I could not check my wordpress site stats every five minutes like I typically do.

I met up with my two closest friends from college. We are getting old, and at one of our “Jesus Christ, we’re this old now?” celebrations–otherwise known as a birthday–we made a solemn alcohol pact that we would go on a trip every year.

This is the first.

We stayed at the Millennium Hotel near Ground Zero. I don’t have a picture of it, but I do have this:

This is my foot. I was trying to take a picture of the view. This would be the view of a bed bug sitting on top of my head.

I had just lasted six hours on a train without Internet access so I was eager to tap into the free wireless access at the hotel. No such thing in NYC. You had to pay, and considering I just doled at $4 for a tub of lip balm fit for a Barbie Doll, I figured wireless access might be a tad pricey.

We ate at a Korean restaurant the first night. I don’t remember the name because I am American and if it doesn’t say “McDonald’s” then I will not remember it so let’s just say I went to a non-McDonald’s. I don’t have a picture of my dinner, but I do have this picture I took at the Museum of Sex:

Every guy’s fantasy.

Incidentally that is not what I had for dinner.

The second day was all about seeing the sites. We stopped in a perfume shop that likely had a name, but I’ve forgotten it. The perfume was costly, like 40 tiny tubs of lip balm. I asked the saleswoman if she would be interested in developing a Christian Grey scent with me. In the Fifty Shades trilogy, Ana is always going on about the fantastic smell wafting from Christian’s body. She describes it as the “Christian smell,” which is pretty descriptive. The saleswoman asked me what that smell is and I said I believed it was a combination of Axe body wash, lube and vag-flavored ice cream. She asked me to leave.

Spritz some perfume to say a prayer for the creation of “Christian Grey Dildo Butt Plug Scentasm.”

We trekked to the Empire State Building and were immediately accosted by a bunch of people in blue vests. One blue vester had the better ticket deal, he insisted. If we purchased tickets inside the building, then we would have to wait 16 hours standing on hot coals while shadowboxing roosters. If we bought from him, we just would have to pay more. Not a bad deal.

We bought tickets inside.

The view. Not my foot.

Here are my friends:

I also do weddings.

We saw the New York Public Library…

Me and the lion who starred in Ghostbusters.

And Central Park.

Me and a fern?

A butterfly landed on my foot and made love to it for several minutes. No one seemed to care. That’s New York for you.

The butterfly moves on to make sweet love to my friend’s hand. I’ll admit it. I felt used. And a little jealous.

We had an encounter with “Joke Man,” a guy who tells jokes for $1. I warned him that I was humorless.

We had a fantastic dinner at some Italian restaurant. You should really try it if you’re ever in NY. I cannot remember the name or begin to tell you where it’s located, but check it out. I don’t have a picture of my meal because it was dark and my belly was full of Chianti and despair over making joke man displeased. But I do have this:

Bed bug peen at the Museum of Sex. This is the main reason you want to avoid bed bugs while in NY.

Incidentally I did have bed bug peen for dessert.

A Pad of Deceit

There is some serious lying happening this week on the ol’ pad of bachelor.

Ed can’t wrap his drunk brain around it.

Host Chris Harrison interrupts the binge drinking with instructions to the remaining 14 love-seekers that they must fill out surveys in preparation for the next day’s challenge. “Be honest,” he warns the pad of liars and disappears on a flying rose.

Next day, the participants play a gameshow mash up. The first round deals with questions about love and romance although the majority of the questions are about Bachelor history.

“On which Bachelor did one contestant take a dump in the hot tub?”

The second round deals with the contestants guessing which Bachelor Pad contestant said something awful about someone else on the show. Jamie digs her own grave by admitting she wants to sleep with Chris B., Blakely’s partner and thinks Jaclyn is a lying slutball (paraphrase).

Jaclyn and Ed win an immunity rose and one-on-one dates. Rachel and Dave each get one elimination vote cast against them.

Jaclyn picks Ed to go on a date, which causes him to lose out on his own individual date. They drunkily run around Dodger Stadium.

Jaclyn receives a love note from the Bachelor Pad producers that she can give an immunity rose to another guy who will get to go on a one-on-one date of his choice. Ed talks Jaclyn into giving Chris B. the rose because Chris B. is Ed’s BFF and Ed totally trusts him and this should not end in heartbreak.

Meanwhile Chris B. hates both his partner Blakely and Jamie, the woman he keeps accidentally falling into with his lips. Blakely wants reassurance that Chris will stick it out with her to the end.

That someone is Jamie. Chris voiceovers that he hates how she’s always bothering and coming up to him as the camera follows him wandering through the house looking for her. They get into bed because he hates her so much and make out in a hateful fashion. Jamie wants to talk about their first days of lurve when she snapped her throng in his direction, and Chris wants Jamie to remain mute because he is so swell.

Jamie is so in lurve. She thinks Chris has all the qualities she’s looking for in a husband so I guess that means shitball brains, an even shitballier personality and no self-awareness. She just gushes and gushes, but I mean can you blame her?

Chris B. pulls a super dick move and invites Sarah on the date. He tells Jamie he’s just trying to protect her from Blakely’s wrath while telling us that he’s trading in his used cars for a shiny new vagina.

Chris B. and Sarah go on an action date, and it’s suppose to mean that they’re filming a scene for an action movie, but Chris’s peen also gets some Sarah action.

Chris and Sarah stay overnight while Jamie tells everyone how much she loves Chris and hopes he had a nice time, but missed her. Yeesh.

Voting time. Super fan Dave knows he’s on the chopping block because he already has a vote against him so he tries to corral some women into voting for Nick.

Wait, who?

I know! I didn’t think so either.

Chris B. wants to vote for Blakely while the rest of his alliance are gunning for Jamie. Chris B. explains to ringleader Michael that he wants Blakely to go because he will be able to persuade Sarah and Jamie with his cock into keeping him around longer. Michael’s all like “Oh no, he didn’t.”

Chris’s bestie Ed is trying to talk sense into Chris, telling him he doesn’t have the votes or support from the alliance and his cock might go down in flames.

Ed tells Chris that Kalon just told Ed he’s voting for Jamie although he told Chris he was voting for Blakely. Chris explains lying is part of the game, and Ed is just shocked. Shocked! Lying on Bachelor Pad? Herpes, sure, but lying!?!

During this exchange the music is very dramatic almost as if they were discussing how to handle tense negotiations with the terrorists over at Big Brother MCVII.

Chris goes and gathers Kalon to convince Ed to vote off Blakely.

They circle jerk it for awhile and decide they’ll all vote for Jamie.

Blakely interviews if she’s here tomorrow “I’m going to donkey punch Chris in the throat.”

Damn you, Bachelor Pad for actually making me like a contestant for two seconds.

At the rose ceremony, David and Jamie get voted off. Chris feels betrayed. His bestie and second bestie lied! To him!!! Lied! Even though Chris himself said lying was part of the game, he just meant he could play that way.

Jamie basically calls him a creep and says she doesn’t like the way he treats people. He gets very defensive making Pee-Wee Herman’s response of “I know you are, but what am I?” seem the height of maturity.

Unfortunately no donkey-punching ensues, but Blakely predicts Chris will be the next one out.

So take one last look, ladies.

Well This is Embarrassing. . .

I nearly forgot today was my one-year blogging anniversary or as I like to call it blogginganniversary™. Please don’t tell my blog because it will be pissed.

Oh, I guess it knows now. Sorry baby. Look, I’ll take you out to dinner…any Arby’s you want. And here’s a fistful of dandelions I picked out of the sewer grate. Let me stick one in your hair.

All better.

I knew something was off-kilter. I watched a little Today show today, something I haven’t done in months. I learned Kathie Lee pees in the shower, and it made me actually like her a little.

See, I used to always blog about the Today show, and then a lightbulb went off because the bulb blew and I got a replacement bulb, switched it on and *bing* (or whatever sound an idea lightbulb makes) bloganniversary™.

Why have I been so absentminded?

Well, I’ve been reading and recrapping a horrible book and watching and recrapping a horrible reality television show. I have lost 15% of my brain matter according to a survey I took on an Arby’s placemat. I’ll admit I have not been my 100% percent self. More like my 75% self.

I likely need a refresher on percentages.

I had planned to blog today about the latest episode of Bachelor Pad 3 where the contestants actually create an entirely new STD out of chlamydia, herpes and Mike’s Hard Lemonade. But that will have to be for another day. Today is all about you, sweetheart. Or me. Is it us?

Them?

Hello?

When I started this blog, I had high ambition. I planned to change the world. That’s why my first post was on Facebook status updates.

Wait…was that my intention? Oh, right. I was bored. Kind of the same thing.

This past year, I feel like I’ve really grown as a writer. Why just last August, I was recapping episodes of Bachelor Pad 2. And now look at me. . . recapping episodes of Bachelor Pad 3. 

Maturity.

I don’t know what’s in store for this coming year. Bachelor Pad 4?

I cannot wait.

Happy Bloganniversary™ Speaker7! I mean me. Or is it us?