The Bachelor: Jillian runs this yard, bitch

This week's gimmick is going to be repeated appearances by Jimmy Kimmel, to what end I cannot imagine other than to use Kimmel's supposed cachet to prop up the bloated Bachelor corpse but what really happens is that Jimmy's antics highlight the moss-covered-rock-like personality of the Farmer.  Anyway, we kick off with Kimmel delivering a monologue that's even less funny than a normal monologue would be and the introduction of a swear jar for the word "amazing" which is just as dumb and pointless a concept as it sounds.  I would support the idea of a jar you have to put a dollar into every time one of the girls stares into the void and prays for a merciful and painless end but I'm not sure there's a jar big enough.

Solo date with Kaitlyn with a K.  For some reason they're going to Costco.  This is supposed to be funny I think.  Oh, I get it, it's what Real Married Couples do so that's the point.  I guess Watching 3 Hours of Top Chef wouldn't make for good TV but that's what Real Married Couples do.  Anyway, watching people shop at Costco is just as boring and dumb as actually going to Costco.

The idea here is that they'll then go back to the Pad and cook dinner for Jimmy, who shows up with a gift and some bad jokes.  Having Jimmy there just highlights how fake and staged the whole show is (which more on that later).  It's pointless to write anything else about this.  It's stupid and nobody should watch this show anyway.

We are then transported to a farmlike setting for some kind of Group Date Farm Obstacle Course that includes collecting eggs and milking goats and catching pigs and collecting farm subsidies for land you didn't even farm and growing bioengineered nightmare crops that will eventually turn all of us into mutantlike puddles of flesh.  But hey, cute goats!  The Shoveling Manure stage, a wry commentary on the show as a whole, is dominated by Jillian the Barbarian, who has a black boxed ass again and apparently dresses for every event like she's posing for Hustler.

Another night, another rooftop pool.  Carly, who "won" the Farmalympics, gets her close-up and WHOA GIRL WHAT THE FUCK WITH THOSE EYEBROWS.

Need to talk to your Eyebrow Artiste, because she accidentally gave you the South American Dictator or the Angry Clown instead of the Girl Next Door.  Anyway, she correctly tells him "You are a man and I'm a woman" and mashes her face into him.  Meanwhile, Jillian, Inmate #24557, has made Britt her bitch.

Date with Baby Voice.  She likes to meet people in airports and then become Facebook friends with them.  This is stalking behavior!  "So nice to meet you at DFW! Hope your children BRAD and KELLY enjoy ROOSEVELT MIDDLE SCHOOL!"

ABC has gone all out on this one and staged an entire wedding they can pretend to crash.  Farmer is worried they "may end up in jail" but they're white so I doubt it. They magically change into formalwear and ABC plays this whole thing like it's hostage negotiations tense but it's fake as shit.  Whatever.

OH GOOD Jimmy Kimmel is back for the Cocktail Party. Except - WHAT?!? - no Cocktail Party!?  It's a pool party instead? NO FUCKING WAY!!!!!  Like we give a shit.  Megan the Simple, however, reacts like she's been told there's no school today or she's getting free Goldfish crackers.

You know what goes good with a pool party?  Plastic drinkware?  Yes, but also a gut-wrenching tale of your spouse's suicide, or at least that's what Juelia or however you spell it seems to think.  It's really horrible and Farmer is like "Can I get a tissue?" when his face says "Can I get a body double?"  Later, Boss Bitch of the Yard Jillian has commandeered the hot tub when some other chicks interrupt.  OTHER CHICKS WHO ARE GETTING SHANKED TONIGHT I MEAN.

OK, let's wrap this up.  Who's in?  Jade, Samantha, Juelia, Kids Having Kids, The Widow Kelsey, Britt, Megan the Simple, Carly, Krazee Ashley (MISS YOU BOO, HOPING TO SEE MORE NEXT WEEK), Again, Who The  Fuck Is Nikki, Boss Bitch Jillian, and the Virgin.

We must bid farewell to Possibly Black Amber, Some Blonde Chick I Didn't Recognize, and Some Other Chick I Didn't Recognize.  Next week it appears we're off to SF so hopefully it's just two hours of standing in line at Tartine.