The Bachelorette: This is our Rock Bottom.

If this is the Worst Season Ever of the Bachelor/ette franchise (and believe me, I've watched enough to know and it is), then last night's episode, a glorified Clip Show/Fake Interview thing called "The Men Tell All" or "The Men Read Pre-Prepared Cards" or "These Are Not Men" was the worst part of the worst season, which makes it the Worst Television Show You Could Have Watched. If this season was "Police Academy" then this episode was some forgotten straight-to-video installment like "Police Academy: Not Answering Calls in Oakland" or "Police Academy: Shooting Unarmed Civilians for Sport." This episode is our rock bottom. It is our Intervention. I kept expecting Jeff to show up in my living room and say "You know, I see here a bunch of people that love you like crazy and they're here to fight for you and just want you to join the fight." And then I would admit I have a problem and go to some rehab for TV center in Malibu. Anyway. Let's just get through this together and then we'll hold each other and weep quietly.

Half of this episode is an extended ad for "Bachelor Pad," a concept so loathsome and repulsive I won't even watch it, which is really saying something. It's clearly a ripoff of the late, great "Paradise Hotel," which was a reality show pioneer and was so awesomely bad it accidentally turned the corner to great. MISS YOU BOO. But anyway, if you're reconstructing the show based on this recap, just insert an awful Bachelor Pad ad every 5 minutes. (Oh, and this year they're letting civilians compete on BP, which is like sending a paintball team to Afghanistan, but whatever, I don't care.)

The other thing that makes up this entire episode are pointless meandering Clip Packages. Oh look, here's footage we didn't see! Emily and that weirdo singing to an egg. Emily spills wine on her dress. Emily severs a monkey's head and lobs it at a hapless Croatian peasant.

All the male contestants have been assembled onstage while a crowd of sad-looking women hoot and jeer at their antics. These include such moments as Stevie, the "Party MC" from New Jersey, accusing Kalon of not being there for the right reasons. Oh, that's rich. Every one of these people should kill themselves.

There is a series of "interviews" wherein Chris Harrison tries mightily and fails to elicit any single interesting thing from the mouths of these child-men. "Ryan," the football player/"athletic trainer" who is vaguely chestnut colored and has complicated facial hair, is that particular type of asshole who is utterly un-embarrassable, so he embraces the fact that he is an arrogant prick and he calls Emily a "female" and calling women "females" is a 100% accurate marker of a Total Douchebag. Chris breaks the news to him that he will not, under any circumstances, be the next Bachelor, but Ryan will undoubtedly show up in some future reality show like "Rape Stars" or "Juiced Up!" or "Real Car Salesmen of Augusta".

Shovelfaced Chris is interviewed. He is angry. He has "lost a couple of good friends," but what connection that has to anything transpiring here is unclear. He is "looking forward to falling in love with the right girl," and will be appearing on Bachelor Pad, so apparently the Right Girl lives in a petri dish.

Let's trot out the Show Horse and see if she can do any tricks. She's excited to see all y'all. She and Chris blather about nothing. Then we get a blooper reel! Actually, I'm going to hate myself for this, but I gotta say that the blooper reel actually makes Emily almost likeable. Like, she swears a lot and actually seems like she has kind of a dry sense of humor. OK ENOUGH POSITIVITY. Back to hating everything. I just wish they hadn't edited her personality completely out.

So the finale is this Sunday. I'm gonna be out of town actually, so probably no recap until Tuesday unless I really get my shit together which frankly is not very likely. YOLO.