The Bachelor season finale is tonight, and it’s three motherfucking hours long. There is no possible way I will make it through. Let’s just assume Bland gave some dame a promise ring and will be unpromised-ringed in two months, and dating another low-rent reality star while his agent vies for Bland’s appearance as Donald Trump’s wigfluffer on Celebrity Apprentice.
It’s starting. So much filler. Host Chris Harrison has abused the word “dramatic.” I dramatically hate him. Bland sees wives like the Sixth Sense kid sees dead people.
There’s a live audience? What the fuck? Chris Harrison is bellowing “Hello! We’re live?” and then abuses the word “historic.” Chris Harrison thinks he’s on Nightline and blathers bullshit about “breaking news” while the dying newspaper industry dies a little more. Yes it is breaking news if a wooden Trojan horse neighs platitudes at a dummy, and the dummy says “poop.”
I’m going to start drinking. I’m going to start drinking whenever someone expresses how difficult shit is and how dramatic shit is. I will be drunk by 8:30.
The ladies get to meet the vagina and peen ensemble that made Bland. Catherine is first. Reality-television hugging. Bland’s sister looks like one-armed Sarah, a former Bachelor contestant and now I’m very mixed up. More wine.
Weird talking between Catherine and Bland’s mom. Bland’s mom suffers from vocal fry. “Bland pooped in the potty at seven,” Bland’s mom shares. “And then again at 27. We’re so proud of him. Can you change diapers?”
The dad thinks there something called The Bachelor process. Why the fuck does my dad not know about The Bachelor process? Why have you forsaken me father?
The father is Sean Hayes in character.
Is it 11 p.m., yet?
No. It’s 8:11. That means I have 2 hours and 49 minutes. I have now begun carving into my face with a drill bit.
Lindddsssayyy is next. Bland is hoping for family clarity. I say blow jobs for all.
Linddsaaaayyyy vocal fries nonsense about meeting her possible reality family. Sean Hayes (aka dad) wants to make out with someone. Yes, Lindddssayyy was the dipshit that wore the wedding dress at the opener. They dull about this for an eternity. Oh good. We have two hours and 40 minutes left. I’m going to go get something hefty and start bashing myself in the face with it.
Lindsaayyyy asks Sean Hayes for Bland’s hand in marriage and then cackles because women’s rights are bullshit.
More bloop with Lindssayyyyy and Bland’s mom. Let’s just assume it’s full-on vocal fry and full-on nonsense. Bland still wants to marry everyone including that pumped up dude he sees in that special glass called a mirror.
People are applauding in the live audience even though they know they’re in for the long haul. Bland is walking pensively in a light blue tank top. Last date with Lindssassayy. They take a raft ride on the Mekong River. Bland pretends to know geography. “That land is Thailand. And that other land isn’t.” They make out while the rowers add on to their hatred of America.
There’s not enough wine in the world, gentle reader, to get me through this. And I’m not even a full hour in. You all realize I will be asleep in 20 minutes. I’m somewhat asleep now as Lindsssyayy and Bland make out as I pull my fingernails off.
Lindsssayyyy has something special for Bland. She farts into a sack and makes him smell it.
We’re now at hour two and I am intoxicated. Intoxicated on love and wine…mostly wine.
It’s very dramatic.
Catherine’s final date. An elephant is exploited. That’s it. Oh, there’s some kissing.
I’m nearly done. I’m sorry. I know you depend on me, but see this whole “spring forward” has fucked everything up. My son has a cold, which means he shimmied into my room a couple of times before finally joining us for a few crappy non-sleep hours. So I’m tired and this is not holding my interest.
Catherine sees blahhing at Bland forever and “tonight is the night” she proclaims so I surmise that means “blow job.”
Bland is feeling “the pressure” of his member stretching aganist his sweatpants. More kissing with cameras present.
Catherine is crying because Bland is not expressing emotion. No one is expressing emotion.
Here is my emotion: Floop.
Chris Harrison is here with his “Bachelor Nation” and if I was actually a part of a Bachelor Nation, I would want a bullet to mesh with my head.
An hour and 40 minutes left. Are you fucking kidding me? I’m asleep in 20 minutes. That is not a guess. That is a fact.
Bland rubs oil on his shirtless body. He flexes his veiny arms as he thinks he can wife up both gals. Too bad Joseph Smith didn’t make the dream of polygamy a reality. Instead he was murdered by a mob. Romance.
Weird plastic-surgeony ring dude. This makes me want to take my engagement ring and throw it into the woods.
More shirtless Bland. He is prepared to love love and love and love. I need another drink.
Bland is crying because his nipples are rubbing against a shirt.
Liinnnddaaayyy is “so happy” she says as she cries happily.
Bland states this is the most difficult thing he’s ever had to do™. I eye my bed with love. I think we have a connection.
The Bachlor Nation is applauding again. Former contestants are going to blather nonsense about pooft.
Chris Harrison pretends this will be all resolved soon, but I know math. This flop is three hours long and we’re only one hour and 40 minutes into it.
Chris Harrison mentions some “infamous letter” and I’m drawn to my bed. I love you my bed whispers. Do you, bed? This is the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make. Do I go to you or do I watch bullshit?
So he dumps Linddssaeeyyayayyy.
How can there be an hour and 10 minutes left?
Bland is crying.
Lindsaaayy is feeling sad. “This is really sad? Why is this sad?” And bye.
My bed wants me so hard.
Chris Harrison pops up with a “Hey man.” He gives Bland a ”dramatic” letter. There is over an hour left. I’m going to eat arsenic.
There is mix voiceover between Catherine and Bland reading a letter written by Clippit, the paper clip icon of Microsoft Word. It’s that good.
Bland proposes and Clippit says yes. It says Yes! goddammit!
They will be broken up by St. Patrick’s Day.
Now for the late breaking news. . . I sharted in my pants. And The Bachelor Nation loves it. Loves it!
Bland and Lindssaayyyy bleat at each other again. Bland mentions his heart took him to stupid places and Lindssayyy is happy for his two brain cells “and…” Lindssayyy ends her sentence like normal folk do.
I love you all so much and this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do™ but I’m going to bed.