The Bachelor, Week 5: "Two Girls One Cu......ROSE"

Alright kids, I know I'm about a week late with this one, but I don't think anyone who reads this blog actually watches the Bachelor anyway and the internet I had been stealing has been pretty much non-existent for the last week or so. I downloaded the last two episodes on iTunes, but apparently they don't let you take screenshots of something that you just paid $2 an episode for. FUCK YOU ITUNES!!! I decided to suck it up and call Comcast to come bring me some internets, so expect a post on this week's actual episode sometime Friday night after the Comcast guy installs all my internets. Without further ado...

Pack your bags and a couple of sequined tops that tastefully reveal a little cleavage ladies because this week The Bachelor is heading to Vegas! Can you feel the excitement? Well I can because it is about as tangible as a punch in the labia! Will Brad drunkenly lose his massive bartending fortune on a single craps game? Will Michelle get so pissed at the other ladies that she says fuck it all and runs off to join a cathouse? Will the two Ashleys devise a daring casino heist using only dental tools, cocktail rings, and a combined IQ of 180 (also a combined weight of 180)? Well gosh golly let's dive in and find out!

First and foremost though, let us briefly pause and check out what hunky ol' Chris Harrison was wearing this week:

Eat your heart out Jeff Probst because hot damn, yes, THOSE ARE ROLL-UP CONTRAST FASHION CUFFS! Chris may be a big picture man with dreamy eyes and a sensitive soul, but he is also a man that knows better than to neglect the details.

Moving on. Brad arrived in Vegas a little before the plane full of ladies so that he could have a very special meeting with this man, who is apparently the king or the grand marquis or something of Las Vegas.

Point is, it wasn't really made clear who this guy was, but he is VERY IMPORTANT and basically he is in charge of greeting other important people like Brad upon their landing in that desert oasis and his job is to impress upon them the graciousness and hospitality of the city as a whole. Then the king whipped out his sword and Brad kneeled before him and became Sir Brad Womack, Arch-Woo-er of Women. He was now ready to venture forth on an epic quest to woo Shawntelle the Funeral Director.

Like most women, Shawntelle likes designer handbags and uncomfortable shoes, she just also happens to enjoy draining the blood from dead bodies. Knowing this, Brad decided to treat her to a shopping spree at a high-end mall, which also houses a gigantic man with no legs and a very phallocentric fountain:

After bestowing bags upon bags of designer clothing on the unassuming embalmer, Brad took her back to the ladies' hotel room so Shawntelle could show off the thousands of dollars worth of shoes, purses, and dresses she bought. In a turn of events that surprised absolutely everyone, Michelle had some faces to make about these items:

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME...?"

 "YOU GOT $5000 SHOES AND I HAD TO REPEL DOWN A GODDAMN SKYSCRAPER?"

"EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO HANG MYSELF—MAYBE YOU CAN EMBALM ME AFTERWARDS, HO."

Then they absconded to the roof of the hotel to eat a nice meal, over which Shawntelle described in detail the processes she undertakes each times she slaps on a pair of embalming gloves. After struggling to keep his food down, Brad waved his magic Bachelor wand and fireworks lit up the sky. Then he did what Bachelors do best....

...SUCK FACE!!!

Then it was time for a group date the producers absolutely did not orchestrate for the express purpose of causing Emily undue amounts of emotional trauma; racing cars at the Vegas speedway! Being the perceptive, sensitive Bachelor we all know and feel kind of ambivalent about, Brad noticed that something was wrong with Emily and pulled her aside for a private chat wherein she revealed that her fiance died on his way to a NASCAR event at that very same racetrack. She was understandably pretty upset, but given that she is Emily and she is some sort of alien breed of Bachelor supercontestant mutant, she got in the damn racecar anyway and managed to still look hot while crying in an ill-fitting jumpsuit:

I guess even coal miner's daughters know about waterproof mascara!

The other ladies got all uppity about not feeling special enough because Brad was giving Emily so much one-on-one time during the group date, so they displayed their cosmetics savvy too and cried bitter, mascara-free tears. First the lady with the weird neck cried:

Then, Sad Divorced Cat Lady cried:

And while Chantal clearly knows about waterproof mascara, it seems like this week she decided to once again disregard the memo about not slathering on the rouge lest she look like a truckstop whore.

Michelle, realizing Brad was probably a little bit frazzled from all these lady tears, pulled him aside and made out with him. But just when you thought the crying was over, all hell broke loose and a STATE OF EMERGENCY SIZED DOUBLE WHAMMY TORRENT OF TEARS swept Bachelor country, washing away whole colonies of candles and roses and mimosas as back at the Bachelormanse, Ashley and Ashley learned that they had been chosen for a two-on-one date with Brad!

See, Ashley is best friends with Ashley and the whole thing with a two-on-one date is that it's one Brad, two Ashleys, and one rose—this means the deep and meaningful friendship they forged over the last month would have to come to a screeching halt as Brad picked one over the other. And of course, duh, he chose Ashley the Dentist because she is the more mentally unstable of the two and that seems to be a big turn on for him. Oh, and before I forget, the whole premise of the date was that whichever Ashley he didn't send packing had to perform with him in a Cirque du Gay Elvis Tribute thing:

Meanwhile, back at Bachelormanse, the ladies were all sitting around pontificating about the fate of the Ashleys when all of a sudden the front door mysteriously opened, and Brad's evil henchman/guy who looks like a Sevendust roadie appeared to collect the bag of the spurned Ashley:

This is the point at which my internet decided to crap out on me yet again, so I really couldn't tell you what happened at the cocktail party leading up to the rose ceremony, but according to other Bachelor blogs, Chantal/Divorced Cat Lady cried a whole bunch more and Brad basically told her to tone down the tears lest Bachelorville suffer more casualties from this week's sob tsunami. Then he sent home Lisa and Marissa. Yeah, I don't know who they are either. They have each had maybe like two minutes of screen time this whole season. Anywho, I leave you with this (which happens next week):

and this (which happened this week but I can't remember the context--think she was maybe talking about how hawt she would look racing a car?):

"THE ANSWER IS SOOOOOOO HAWT GODDAMNIT!"

P.S. next week actually looks pretty good now that Brad's getting down to brass tax and sending home all the normal, well-adjusted ladies: