|Will someone from North Philly please shoot me in the nuts?|
So apparently there's a place in this world called Anguilla where mermaids dance and locals prance and people play Dominos allllll day long while listening to Carribean music and ordering Domino's pizza. A place where Coco would be free to have Thong Thursday everyday and where I would get sunburnt in a matter of minutes. A real life Utopia. Anguilla. The same place where I took those six chicks that I was dating that one time and made sure to always wear my bathing suit under my dinner clothes.
I live in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, the gun murder capitol of the world. A place where if I saw a mermaid walking down the street, I would totally shoot it in the face. A walking fish would be terrifying! I once went snorkeling in Hawaii and I seriously wanted to harpoon some of those motherf***ing fish. They was crowding me, yo! And trying to eat my pizza!
But there is no reason for any human being to live in Philadelphia. I lived in Boston for five years and eventually found a pretty decent cheesesteak. It's honestly so stupid that I don't live in Anguilla. DID YOU SEE THAT PLACE?!?! I bet they eat fresh fish on a stick!
|Get at me frog!|
Not to mention, BANKIE BANX. I just looked him up on Wikipeeds and found out that he's been around since 1963 when he BUILT HIS FIRST GUITAR. A little rude of Brad and Shawntel to go for a dip in the middle of his performance.
Brad: I mean, this Bankie Banx guy is dope and all, but ....
Shawntel: There's an ocean right there.
Brad: There's a giant ocean right there! And it'd be silly not to go for a dip. I mean, I've got my bathing suit on underneath these pants.
Shawntel: I've got mine on too!
Brad: I don't think Bankie would mind.
Shawntel: Why would Bankie mind?!?! He's like 90 years old!
Brad: Let's go make out in the ocean! ... (runs toward ocean)
Shawntel: I love you what I didn't say anything, I didn't just say I love you after two dates, I love you, I seriously do, don't make me go back to the house with Michelle, she said she was gonna carve me like a fish, can you even carve a fish? Coming!
|When I say "boing," you say "boing." "Boing, _____!"|
There was all sorts of lawlessness going on last night: ditching Bankie Banx, topless photo shoots, Brad's blatant inability to follow rules (he promised Emily a rose when he wasn't allowed to)! Where was Chris Harrison to regulate? Shouldn't he have stepped in at some point? I mean, seriously, WHERE WAS Chris Harrison? What does he do the entire time he's in Anguilla besides deliver a couple pieces of mail and keep his hair the EXACT same length the entire time?
Producer: Hey Chris, we're gonna shoot that scene now where you drop off that envelope and say like, four words, okay?
Chris Harrison (laying back in a lounge chair, eating a fish on a stick and drinking the same green Ecto Cooler drink that the ladies were drinking on their Grouper): All right, all right, gimme a sec.
Producer: Uh, Chris, we need to shoot this scene now. You've been saying that for like, an hour now and we need the natural sunlight.
Chris Harrison: Shut up! JUST SHUT UP!! Do you see this green drink?!?! You can't get this isht in LA! It's friggin green! I'm finishing this drink. And then I'm going for a dip. I'm in Anguilla! ... F***king dominos and isht. Domino's pizza, yo. Domino's f***ing pizza. I'm Chris Harrison. Domino's pizza (falls asleep, fish on a stick falls and lands on his giant pile of cash).
While Chris basked in the sun, it seemed as if The Bachelor's other employees were also getting drunk as the editors totally butchered the scene where Brad and Emily picnicked on a deserted island. One second Brad and Emily's hair was dry, the next it was dripping wet. Either way, one thing was clear after Brad and Emily's one-on-one, Chantal has HUGE cans.
Did you see those things?!?! During the Sports Illustrated swimsuit photo shoot (by the way, "DURING THE SI SWIMSUIT PHOTO SHOOT?!?!" WHO DOES THIS SHOW THINK IT IS?!?!), Chantal O proved to definitely be the hottest chick (even though she's also the dumpiest). And I know, I know, she's not dumpy, she's not dumpy! but for this show, with these other VERY thin women, she's a little dumpy. And I like her dumpiness! I like her dumpiness! Actually, she's not even dumpy! Just dumpy next to anorexic people! That's all! Anyway, the scene where the wet sand dripped into her belly button officially rocketed her to level 9, supreme bonkers status. Between sand sloshing over her navel and Rhianna's twat thrusts last night, my head is officially ready to explode (and honey, if you're reading this, I want the remains of my brains to be sloshed over Chantal's midsection if I do in fact die before you this week ... thank you).
|Bankie Banx runs on this stuff.|
Britt had no chance from the start; partially because she weighs 60 pounds, but mostly because she has no breasts. Those two negatives may be related, but I honestly have no idea how the female form works, nor do I understand how Britt is a food writer.
Gotta admit, even though she is boobless, I felt a little bad for Britt when she was let go and had to return back to the villa to face the other women.
Ashley: Oh my God, what happened?
Britt: I'm going home guys, Brad and I just didn't work together.
Michelle: Oh my God, let me help you get your things.
Chantal: Oh my God, I can't believe it, are you really going Britt? Oh my God, make sure you pack your blue sandals.
Michelle: Yeah, and your bathing suit from earlier is still hanging up in the bathroom, I'll go get it for you. Side compartment of your suitcase?
Ashley: This is really sad. You should eat something.
Britt: I'll be okay guys, I'm just really sad right now ...
Michelle: Got your suit! It's not quite dry, but that's okay, I'll just jam it in your suitcase. And here's your passport. Now, you better get outta here, those lines at the airport can be brutal!
With Britt gone, Ashley getting a rose, Emily promised one and Shawntel being calm, cool, relaxed and not an emotional wreck like the others, the rose ceremony came down to Michelle and Chantal (and her ridiculously incredible taters).
For as big and wonderful as Chantal's breasts are, she needs to have more faith in them. She can't be crying and freaking out all the time. If it wasn't for that red, netted bikini that SOMEHOW hid her nipple, Brad would've sent her home on the spot, but I'm convinced he spent their entire conversation looking for her nip. Where was that thing? That scene was so tantalizing.
|Just gonna put my finger on your thigh here. No big deal. How's your blood pressure?|
When The Bach finally sent Michelle packing, my wife and I legitimately screamed out "yessssssss!" and then immediately felt badly when they flashed to Michelle looking like a weathered 30 year old single mother who bangs NBA All Stars. Gotta hand it to her for keeping her isht together though and especially for not taking Brad's hand when he walked her out. I've never been dumped on an island paradise while on a reality TV show, but I imagine I wouldn't want my hand held by my dumper either.
I'll tell ya what I do want though:
THAT SPORTS ILLUSTRATED SWIMSUIT ISSUE TO ARRIVE ALREADY!!
WHERE IS MY MAILMAN?!?!
I seriously want to shoot him in the face!
For now, you can check out Chantal's SI pictures here.