|C'mon, that's a nice bathing suit.|
"Never trust a white guy with a mustache. Or a black dude without one." - Cornelius Brown III, my college roommate.
I don't know if Shawntel's father was directly to blame for her departure last night, but you gotta think that the fact that his mustache almost crawled off of his upper lip played some part in Brad's decision to send her home. It's a shame, because I liked Shawntel; liked that she had a career, liked how relaxed she was and liked how her legs were as smooth as a man's freshly shaved upper lip. Unfortunately though, she has a crazy father who will now lock her up in his basement and make sure she carries out his legacy of making crap commercials in some town that she clearly wants to escape from.
Tough to compare Shawntel's father to Chantal's pop and his purple shirt and giant bank account. My wife feels that Mike (that's his name, Mike) should be the next Bachelor. Clearly Chantal was going to last another week considering her parents ARE THE RICHEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD and have more leather Chaises Lounges than Raymour and Flans. Also, Chantal's mom was SO HOT, a VERY important quality when choosing a mother-in-law. I don't understand how she could look so young and so hot. Yeah, I know, I know, her husband wears purple shirts, but Chantal is 28 years old, I'm 33, but my mother is at least 167 years old. Faithful reader Chris Heis says he's now looking forward to the upcoming season of The Real Housewives of Seattle.
Off to Madawaska, Maine, the hometown of Ashley the Dentist (not really a dentist) and the most incredible looking cheese and gravy fries I've ever seen. I applaud Brad for getting knuckle deep in the poutine only hours before meeting Ashley's family, because if I had eaten that slop, I would've spent the next few hours with my ass glued to a toilet. It's essential in moments like those to carry around Imodium, or take a preemptive pill like my buddy Rev does before tailgating. Seriously, Rev pops an Imodium before sporting events, because after drinking and eating stadium food, there are few things worse than having an explosion in a Lincoln Financial Field bathroom stall. One of those things happens to be Rev's insides because after overdosing on anti-diarrhea medicines for the last fifteen years, Rev now has the small intestine of a marmot.
|Jeremiah Trotter knows about popping preemptive Imodium.|
Ashley's family was INSANE (partially in a good way and partially in an insane way). As they talked in the living room, they all sat ON THE FLOOR, a ridiculous action that only comes from living in Maine. That being said, I totally want to move to Maine now and eat lobster and wear flannel shirts and shop on the honor system and eat cheese and gravy fries and buy stock in Imodium because that stuff is GOLD.
But all of that mishegas was just the appetizer before Emily's main course, as she served up a dish of fresh, golden child. I mean, how could Brad not be smitten? (Besides the fact that Emily comes with a FIVE-YEAR-OLD CHILD who was sired by her DEAD FIANCE who perished in a PLANE CRASH!) I must say though, I was so ridiculously happy when that goddamn butterfly kite got up in the air and brought a smile to that golden child's face. My non-mustached father once took me to a kite flying contest and we spent an hour and a half trying to get our kite in the air before we realized that a) it wasn't windy enough and b) we were in a strip club. Regardless, Brad couldn't have been happier with how his day with Emily and Ricki went, which brought a warm feeling in my heart, not unlike the feeling I get when I chug an entire bottle of Pepto-Bismol every morning.
|Just sitting on the couch waiting for Brad to kiss her. And what does he do? ... NOTHING!|
So three remain:
Chantal - the gigantic breasted, ridiculously wealthy, roller-coaster ride of emotions whose mother will soon be appearing on Bravo with Andy Cohen.
Ashley - the bubbly, annoying, way too energetic Ivy League nutjob who has an overall positive attitude and wonderfully lined stomach.
Emily - the sweetheart southern single mom who has absolutely no negative qualities except for the fact that her emotional baggage would take around seventeen hours to pick up at any airport terminal.
Clearly the choice has to be Emily, although Chantal's cash-filled breasts would be tough to turn down.
Ashley has absolutely no shot. She needs to relax.
Who do you want The Bach to choose? Who do you think he'll choose? Who wants to move to Maine with me? Allons-y!