|Harrison tryna fuck.|
Look, I love the Bachelorette. You know that. You have to know that. This show has singlehandedly kept this shitbox of a blog alive for the past three years. It has given me ups, downs, boners, tears, bonertears, bloodboners, doubleboners, melanomaboners, god this is so stupid, but the bottom line is, this show -- despite its ability to give me boners -- is friggin' terrible. Terrible! It's soooooo dumb and the people are such idiots and did you see Des slide down that rock in the opening intro sequence? You saw her slide down that rock, right? Someone (maybe a producer? maybe Des?) thought that'd be a good idea to have her slide down that rock. Like we'd see that and think, "Oh, look, she likes to slide down rocks. She's fun! I love ABC programming. Maybe I'll watch #Mistresses after all." Ugh, I really don't know how much more of this I can take.
This past week, as we met all of Des's suitors, we were introduced to a guy named Larry. An actual guy named Larry. A real, grown up, human being, named Larry. Do you realize how ridiculous that is?!?! "Hey everybody, what's goin' on? My name's Larry." ... "Oh, hey Larry." ... "Hey Larry." ... "What's up, Larry?" ... "What's your name? Larry? Cool. How's it goin, Larry?" ... I've never met a person in this world named Larry who wasn't a total weirdo. And that includes a mega-weirdo I knew whose name was Barry, but who I thought was named Larry for like the first three weeks I knew him. Barrys might be even weirder than Larrys.
Ughhhghhh, this show is so stupid and so was that last paragraph! Or as they say on Game of Frones, "schtoopid." This really might be the last week I blorg about it. IT'S TOO DUMB. AND WE HAVEN'T EVEN TALKED ABOUT THE GUY WHO KEPT HASHTAGGING STUFF. I really don't know if I can take anymore. Also, just a side note, I set my alarm for 6am this morning so I could try to pump this baby out, but accidentally set it for 5am, so now I'm downstairs at 5:20am and have no idea what's going on. This could actually bode well for the blorg. Let's keep it moving.
AND OMG I'M OBVIOUSLY KIDDING THAT THIS COULD BE THE LAST TIME I BLOG ABOUT IT. Are you kidding me? This is the only time of year that my schtoopid blog gets any hits. I wrote a jawn about Mad Men's Wearhouse yesterday and do you know how many hits it got? Do you know how many hits? Seven! SEVEN HITS. That's not even true, it got like 85 hits, but still, that's not enough hits! Ugghhghhh, 5:22am? I'm so frustrated with myself right now. This could be worse than accidentally stepping in water while wearing socks. Actually, no, nothing's worse than that. NOTHINGGGGGGG.
|When I went to save this picture of Larry to my desktop, |
the name of the .jpg was already called "Larry".
Poem Guy should've been voted off the second he started reading that poem. THE SECOND HE STARTED READING THAT POEM. "I'm sorry, Rick? Is that your name?" ... "Uhh, it's actually Nick." ... "Okay, Nork, look, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. I'm sorry. I can't handle a human being who thought it'd be a good idea to read a lady a poem upon first meeting her. I'm sorry." ... "But it's short, look (takes out piece of folded up paper)." ... "Okay, stop unfolding the paper. Just stop with the unfolding. The fact that you had to write it down. I mean it's a four-line poem. It has four lines. I'm sorry, Nork, just go back in the limo. Just go back. I just can't. I'm sorry. You understand. Watch the premiere. You'll understand. I'm sorry, Nork. Goodbye."
Juan Pablo on the other hand, he's obviously my favourite. He's obviously my favourite! He can do no wrong, with that accent, and that stupid soccer ball, and did you know that there are people in this world, like, real people who have cars and friends and semi-decent personalities, who wake up at 5am? Like, every day! I am FLYING THROUGH this blorgpost just so I can go lay down again. I'm so delirious, I genuinely thought it was funny in the last paragraph to call a guy named Nick, Nork. That's funny? That's what goes for comedy these days? Ughghhh, I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry to all the Norks out there.
Oh wait, the magician SLASH tailor was my most favourite. Juan Pablo was my favourite, but the magician SLASH tailor aka Kordell Stewart Jr. was my most faves. All I wanted to do last night was see him do magic tricks. I feel like Larry felt the same way. How many bunnies do you think he packed for that trip? Twelve? I feel like he probably packed twelve.
And then there was Diogo! Poor Diogo. It is seriously so early in the morning right now, there's not even any birds chirping. No one in this ecosystem is awake. NO ONE.
Around halfway through watching last night, we had to pause the show because I saw a few ants crawling around our living room. Now let me just tell you, I do NOT like ants. My wife likes to make fun of me because I freak out when ants are around, like, I freak out even more than I do when I step in water while wearing socks (WHICH IS STILL THE WORST BY THE BY), but as soon as I saw some ants last night, I double freaked.
WIFE: What? What? Why are you pausing?
EVSTER: I just saw some ants.
WIFE: omg, calm down.
EVSTER: They're right there, crawling around that magazine.
WIFE: Okay, there's like four ants.
EVSTER: Okay, first of all, there's like seven ants. Second of all ...
WIFE: Oh wait, there's more.
EVSTER: Dude there's like twelve ants.
WIFE: Okay, there's like twelve ants. It's okay. (Starts mashing ants with a copy of Entertainment Weekly.)
EVSTER: (Starts running around frantically looking for stuff to mash ants with. Like Jimmy Valvano in the 1983 title game, darting through the dining room, spinning, looking for magazines, grabbing a wet sock in the corner, spinning around again, looking, grabbing some sort of mildew cleaner and just spraying like a mad man.)
By the by, I'll admit that I don't know shit about shit. I'l be the first to admit that. I mean, I'm the guy who woke up at 5am to write a blog that maybe, mayyyyyyybe eleven people will read, but I do know a little thing about ant poison, and by far, BY FAR, the best ant poison on the market is Terro Liquid Ant Baits. It's unbelievable. Ants crawl into this jawn, get the poison in their little ant bellies, then bring the poison back to their friends at the ant hill, and now that I'm explaining it I feel a little bad about killing all those ants, but still, this Terro stuff is amazing. You can get it at Home Deeps. It seriously the best stuff in the biz. The only product out there that is more dominant in its particular field are Breathe Right brand breathe rights. Not the knock-off CVS kind, the good kind. The Breathe Rights. I mean, they named their own product for God's sake. And they HELP YOU BREATHE. It's friggin' fascinating that a product that HELPS YOU BREATHE BETTER -- basically the most fundamental of things you have to do in this world -- is not more popular. Like, how are more people not walking around every day with Breathe Rights on? Yeah, it costs like 20 bucks for a box of 'em, but it's so worth it. I wear 'em around the house AND THEY HELP ME SMELL STUFF.
|I'm buying stock in this product immediately.|
Also, how do you buy stock in stuff?
LET'S SEE, LET'S SEE, WHAT ELSE DO I HAVE WRITTEN DOWN IN MY STUPID NOTES?
Oh, Will, the light-skinned black guy who high fives everyone. Look, I could write 30,000 words on Will alone, but lemme just keep it short and sweet: is it me or does he sorta look exactly like Chris Broussard?
|I honestly don't think they look anything alike.|
Okay, it just took me around 15 minutes to find pictures of those two guys and crop them and post them up there and now I've lost all momentum. Plus, my next-door neighbor's dog, Atticus, (who can suck my butt) just woke up and started barking like crazy and woke up pretty much every bird in my neighborhood and now they're all chirping like a bunch of assholes. It's amazing how much birds love chirping. Ah-maze-ingggggg.
Then there was Wishbone Guy! I'm not even sure which guy Wishbone Guy was, but I gotta hand it to him, of all the horrible gimmicks that dudes have pulled after getting out of the limo, I actually didn't hate this one. Possibly because I love wishbones, but moreso because it means that at some point over the last few days, that guy roasted a chicken. Like, he made a point to go to the grocery store, buy a chicken, roast a chicken, de-chicken a chicken, clean off the wishbone, let it dry out, put it in his stupid carry-on bag when flying out to LA, and bring it with him to the show! "Let's see, let's see, got my wallet, got some gum, what am I missing, what am I missing? Feel like I'm missing something. Ummmm, gum? Got that, got that. Ummm, I know there's something. Wallet? No, got that, too. Hmmmm. Ughhh. There's something, I know there's something. Yeah, I'm coming, Larry! I know the limo's here! One sec, dude! Damn, I know there's something. You smell chicken? I smell chicken. Wishbone! Where's my wishbone? Larryyyyyyy?!???! LARRRYYYYYYY??!??!? YOU SEEN MY WISHBONE??!?!"
So here's a question: does Des suck? I mean, what does she actually bring to the table? I feel like I kinda liked her during Sean's seez, like, she was okay, kinda hot, looked good in a tankini, but never really did much. I feel like she drank goat's milk or something? So that was cool, but she was kinda boring as hell during that first ep. And she sure does cry a lot. Then again, there was some nice, wet, hot tongue-actsh in the "This seez on the Bachelorette" preview thing. So that's cool I guess.
Wakeboarder guy can take a shit.
Sign-spinner guy can take a total shit.
Drew is obvs gonna win. He can take a shit.
I can't believe we don't get to see any more magic acts.
I know he sucks, but I kinda liked shirt-off abs guy. I mean, he was such an idiot, but whatever. I felt sad for him when he was alone in that swimming pool.
I also felt sad for Diogo.
Bryden or Larry? Which name would you rather have? I gotta go with Larry on this one. Which is unbelievable.
Wakeboarder guy can seriously take a shit.
I don't know if I can do it this year, guys. I don't know if I can do it.
I might have to post pictures of bunnies each week just to get by.
I'm going back to sleep.
Also there's a fucking beautiful bluejay outside my window right now.
He can take a shit.
Did you knowwwww that you can follow Des on Twitter? Also, enough of all those stupid tweets during the broadcast of the show. Ugh, no one cares. That being said, follow me on Twitter! Or don't. Who cares. Here's some more buns.