Step right up for the worst explanation of why Donald Trump is not a racist you could imagine

There's a hedge fund guy named Anthony Scaramucci who was against Trump but is now for Trump and is now raising money for him. For reasons known only to Anthony Scaramucci, he sat down and agreed to be interviewed by Jacob Weisberg, editor-in-chief of the Slate group, which I would not say is particularly friendly towards Donald.  The interview is about 20 minutes long and fascinatingly revealing.



At first there's a lot of boring stuff about how Scaramucci - "The Mooch" to friends, apparently - used to support Scott Walker but now supports Trump because Trump is now the Republican nominee.  Whatever, raccoons dig for trash in packs, I get it.  What I wasn't expecting was The Mooch's explanation about why Donald Trump isn't racist to be breathtakingly racist in and of itself.

The relevant portion starts at around 17:30.

OK. So, so, here’s the thing, here’s what happens.  There’s a gigantic arbitrage spread between what people think of him based on what they’ve read about him and snippets of him in the media world and then when people actually meet him – and my wife said this to me, we did a fundraiser for him in East Hampton two Saturdays ago, at Wilbur Ross’s home.  And we were coming out of the fundraiser and my wife turned to me and she said, “You know, I wish people could see him in this environment, answering the questions, getting a full sentence in about the questions, maybe even a paragraph so it’s not sliced on him and not taken out of context, what he said.”

I'm not saying that anyone who uses the term "arbitrage spread" in normal conversation is a dickhead, but it's like wearing a visor backwards - maybe you're a cool guy who just likes turnin' that visor around, but I doubt it.  Anyway, yes, the problem is that DONALD TRUMP IS NOT GETTING THE CHANCE TO GET HIS MESSAGE OUT.  That is seriously what The Mooch (or The Mooch's wife, I guess) wants us to believe.  Stupid press!  Why won't they let him speak?

Wait, it gets so much worse.

But some things are said in jest, and here’s the thing I don’t like about the society right now, if you don’t mind me being a little bit editorialization.  We say some things in jest in the society.  We do have ethnic jokes.  I have been the butt of ethnic jokes in my life.  And I find them humorful.  OK?  There’s also a show called “The Sopranos” that was on for 10 years that took every Italian-American stereotype that you could imagine and manifested itself for one full hour on national TV.  And I met with the Reverend Al Sharpton one day and I said “Hey, why don’t we do The Jacksons?  And we take every racial African-American stereotype, we talk in ebonics to each other, have spinners on the Escalades, and we shoot at each other with Glocks, and we have a whole prostitution ring going, I mean, and so on and so forth, are you guys gonna be sore about that?”  He admitted that he would be sore about it.  But as an Italian-American, you know, I believe in the First Amendment, and I can deal with the fact that we are typecast in shows like The Sopranos, OK?  I get the joke.  And so, he’s not a bigot, and he’s not a racist.

Hey, idiots!  The Mooch is Italian, and The Sopranos used Italian stereotypes, and it didn't bother The Mooch, so quit crying racism!  The Mooch has overcome how Italians were brought to America as slaves and then enslaved here for 300 years and then after they were freed Italians were subject to Jim Crow and the vilest discrimination and state-sponsored killing and redlining and still have a fraction of the family wealth that other Americans have.  Italians have suffered so much!

This is called a "false equivalency," and people honestly believe shit like this.

I don't even know what to say about The Mooch's show "The Jacksons."  I have a hard time believing he related this concept to Al Sharpton because Al Sharpton probably would have punched him in the fucking face if he said this kind of shit, and with good reason.

Finally, NONE OF THIS PROVES THAT DONALD TRUMP ISN'T A RACIST. The fact that "The Sopranos" trafficked in Italian-American stereotypes and it didn't bother The Mooch one bit and The Mooch had the gall to spout every African-American stereotype that popped into his head at an undoubtedly horrified Al Sharpton does not in any way mean Donald Trump is not a racist.  Saying that a judge was unfit to hear Donald Trump's case in court because of his ethnic background makes Donald Trump a racist, OK?

Here are 5 things you should be watching RIGHT NOW

Well, not RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW, but RIGHT NOW when you are in front of or near a TV.

1. 11.22.63, on Hulu Plus

Hulu, best known as a repository for mediocre network TV shows, got into the original content game with this miniseries based on the Stephen King book of the same name about the classic time travel question: Would you go back in time to try and stop the JFK assassination?  James Franco would.  IT'S GREAT.  Totally intriguing premise, of course, and Franco does a great job, along with Daniel Webber as a creepy, totally believable Lee Harvey Oswald, along with pretty much everybody.



Instead of just dumping all 8 episodes, Netflix-style, Hulu is dribbling them out once a week and it's making the experience simultaneously more fun and more excruciating.  It's the show we look forward to most every week.  So much fun.  Next week is the finale.  Get Hulu Plus so you can watch this.

Hopefully next they make 4.20.1889 about someone going back in time to kill baby Hitler.  Wait, Hitler was born on 4/20!!!!  How does somebody not mention this EVERY FUCKING DAY?!?!!!!

2. Girls, on HBO

Now that it's in the 4th season and everybody's pretty much moved on and it doesn't have to represent Something Important to everyone, Girls has settled in as a fun little slice of life show about a few insane people in New York and Japan.  Don't get me wrong, many of the characters are repellent monsters you wouldn't want to be stuck next to in coach, but watching them interact with the humans is a good way to pass a half hour.  The Marnie-centric episode last Sunday was particularly good but I'm not sure why.

3. Happy Valley (season 2), on Netflix

OH MY GOD TELL ME YOU WATCHED SEASON 1 OF HAPPY VALLEY.  You didn't?  The fuck is wrong with you?  Go watch it right now.  OK good.  Now you can watch season 2.

Are you sick of brooding dude antiheroes?  Yes, we all are.  Then enjoy the hell out of Sarah Lancashire's performance as Sgt. Catherine Cawood, an ordinary-looking middle-aged police sergeant in an uncool part of England.  She is so, so good but everything about this show is good, from the uniformly excellent performances to the tautly conceived plot.  Total bingewatch.

Also, poor Mr. Moseley.  He just can't catch a fucking break.

4. The People v. O.J. Simpson, on FX

If you're as old as me and you actually remember this happening in real time, your reaction might have been the same as mine: "No fucking way do I want to relive that."  WELL WE WERE ALL FUCKING WRONG because this show is like 1000x more fun than it has any right to be.  NOT ONLY does John Travolta stage like his 5th or 6th comeback as a literally oily Robert Shapiro, BUT ALSO you've got David Schwimmer doing a perpetually nervous Robert Kardashian and Courtney B. Vance KILLING IT as Johnnie Cochran.  The only miscasting is Cuba Gooding Jr. as O.J. himself and that's just because he is physically too small to be O.J.  Plus, all the period details are just right.  Check out all those baggy as fuck suits!

5. Better Call Saul, on AMC

I know, I'm not really stirring up a hornet's nest of controversy by recommending a show that's gotten the critical acclaim of Citizen Kane crossed with the Beatles but it's still a damn good show.

BONUS CONTENT: Jonathan Banks - Mike Ehrmantraut on this show and Breaking Bad - was in "Airplane!".



Yep, he's the guy opening the microwave. Weird.

The Fuller House teaser trailer, reviewed by someone who's never seen Full House

That's right, I've never seen a single episode of Full House.  It originally aired between 1987 and 1995, or so Wikipedia tells me, a time in my life in which my interests were not aligned with family-friendly TV sitcoms.  I understand that it was set in San Francisco and the Olsen twins were involved.  Beyond that, I couldn't tell you a thing.

There is apparently a sequel series coming to Netflix.  This trailer "dropped" as we say in the cool kids biz, yesterday or something.


I can tell it's set in SF because of the establishing shots of that bridge and Alamo Square.  This is the exterior.  I am informed by Google that it is at 1709 Broderick, vaguely near the bro-y section of Divisadero.  I guess they probably hang out at Lion Pub.

Then there are some long shots of the interior.  It looks expensive.  These people were probably angel investors in Apple or something.  The house is extremely staged.  It is clear no one actually lives there.

BUT WAIT.  At around 1:15, there is a development.  A dog is in the house, apparently alone.

A car horn honks.  Someone says, "Gosh, it feels good to be back.  Hey, can someone help me with these boxes?"  WHAT THE FUCK.  Has the dog just been living in the fucking house alone since 1995?  What has it been eating?  Are there Olsen twins skeletons upstairs, stripped clean of flesh?

More voices.  A group of people approach.  The dog paws madly at the door.  FINALLY, NEW FOOD.  SALVATION.

Fade to black.  Hopefully the next teaser trailer is the now-insane abandoned dog tearing them apart and gleefully consuming their limbs.  THIS SHOW RULES.

Million Dickhead Listing SF: This is the end

Friends, we have reached the End of our Journey, but instead of a man fake-proposing on one knee with a garish Neal Lane ring, we instead have a bunch of assholes giving money to a bunch of vipers.  Sigh, such is life.

The producers are obviously trying to make the Justin-Roh conflict a Thing because we pick up with them slapfighting while Strokes Haircut stands limply to the side.  I don't care, this whole thing is obviously staged and lame and even Justin insulting Roh by telling him he's from Hayward doesn't even make it more interesting, even if it is true.

Justin is still trying to sell that firehouse with all the fucking stairs and people are still bitching about all the fucking stairs.  He's trying to talk the owner into putting in a $100K elevator and she won't elevate so she's just going to take it off the market and wait for a "better time" like WHAT THE FUCK LADY what's a "better time" to sell real estate in San Francisco than right fucking this second?  "Nah, I don't want 500K over asking, I want the sky-god Namaroth to personally invest me with the power to transmute objects and rain fire from the heavens onto the skulls of my enemies.  Also a 5-day close.  Those are my terms."

The whole Justin-Roh playfight climaxes with a lunch at Sens where they're trying to make a deal and it makes professional wrestling look like a Ken Burns documentary.  There's some fucking bidding war that's about as exciting as the silent auction at St. Ingrid's Spring Fling.  Whatever.  Later, Justin is finally getting his own place like a real grownup!  Based on the view, I think it's maybe Buena Vista?  You think?

The fact that he's renting a place not in the Marina is shocking to me.  Just picturing him anywhere outside the Marina or South Beach is hard.

Andrew's still dealing with Joffrey and Mom and the $20 million dump in Tiburon.  There's a $17 million offer from a "couple from Norway."  I bet it's the Ikeas!  Isn't Ikea from Norway?  Or Sweden.  One of those.  One of those Viking/blonde/slash through the letter O places.  Anyway, since they seem to be buying it as an investment, Mom thinks they're "not the right people."  FINALLY, someone is discriminating against stunningly beautiful blonde people.  ABOUT FUCKING TIME.  Keep moving, Horgor.  We don't like your kind around here.

Instead of selling to Billy Bookshelf, Mom decides to RENT the fucking place out like it's a studio on Craigslist, except this studio is on 6 acres and rents for ONE HUNDRED FUCKING THOUSAND DOLLARS A MONTH.  That better include water and garbage.  Other than the residents.  KA-POW SEE WHAT I DID THERE!!!! PWNED!!!!

Fittingly, Andrew's new office that is under construction appears to be in Pleasanton, from which fiance Paaaaal says he'll "take over San Francisco."  From fucking Pleasanton?  Right, just like the Falklands took over Yorkshire.  Try taking over Tracy first, just to warm up.

So that's it.

Million Dickhead Listing SF: Tonight, on a Very Special Million Dickhead Listing

Sorry I missed last week.  It was boring.  I mean, they're all boring, but it was even more boring than usual.  You didn't miss anything.

Not like this week is The Wire or anything, but it had its moments.  Andrew, who apparently does not actually sell any houses in San Francisco itself, is off in Tiburon with some 10,000 square foot pile that is ugly as fuck on the outside but I guess someone's idea of nice inside.  The current owners are some British lady and her dead-eyed son who seems like a slightly more malevolent Tom Cruise in Risky Business.

The lad, "Louis," has agreed to be this episode's villain because I guess it looks good on an application to Dartmouth.  In a continuous quest to become more disturbing, the next time we see Louis his jaw is wired shut because he "got jumped by a couple of guys" and now he talks like a super preppy Marlon Brando in The Godfather.  Louis appears to be the Point Jerk in making this sale and is not impressed with Andrew's meager efforts.  ARE YOU A CAN-DREW OR A CAN'T-DREW.  Oh fuck I'm sorry.  To appease Yung Tyrant, Andrew has a big open house that's like Project X for old rich white people.  Caligula orders him boiled alive in a vat of cheap pinot and Axe body spray.

Tonight we will go on a Very Special Journey with Roh as he learns to respect other cultures, even if he does not agree with them.  Speaking of, through circumstances too convoluted to explain, I found myself at the Battery last night, that private club we all made fun of a couple of years ago when it opened.  It's nice enough inside and is populated entirely by people who look like Justin from this show and his clients.  Also, beers are $9 WHAT WHAT.

ANYWAY GETTING BACK TO THE MATTER AT HAND, Roh goes to meet a gay couple at their pad on Potrero Hill that's all sleek and Architectural Digest and Japanese garden and then he has a problem with them because they want to adopt a kid and Roh's not sure he can live with that until his wife explains to him that he needs to be more accepting blah blah blah the whole thing is wildly obviously staged but I guess it's all for the best if it makes some other Muslim real estate agent watching TV reconsider his internal biases.  The real question is why a gay couple wouldn't fire on the spot some asshole who told them he wasn't sure he could accept them adopting a child.  There are only like seven million real estate agents in this town and people will basically drive up and hurl bags of money at them for their pad so why even listen to this oh it's for TV never mind.

Justin is going to try and sell one of the two units in that old firehouse you see every time you go to Twin Peaks.

It's got a lot of stairs.  A ;LOT OF STAIRS PEOPLE.  This is apparently very daunting even to the young, shallow, and presumably fit, and there's lots of talk about installing an elevator like JUST WALK UP THE STAIRS FATTY YOU CAN QUIT YOUR GYM MEMBERSHIP.  To sell Stair Nightmare, Justin decides to hold a "sexy fun event" like "Cole Valley has never seen" but I'm pretty sure Cole Valley has seen a salami and cheese plate before Justin.  Oh he also gets some Chippendales dressed up like firemen to make it super fucking awkward for everyone involved.  It appears that the buyers are all about Dat Horizontal Life and don't want this Escher painting turned $3M condo.

Later, Justin shows up at Roh's open house with some guy with a Strokes haircut and they get in a big fight.  Justin and Roh, not the guy with the Strokes haircut.  His only beef is with his stylist.  I mean, I hope so.  I'm not sure what they were fighting about but it seemed real serious.  We'll find out next week.

Million Dickhead Listing SF: Turning and turning in the widening gyre

Just like last week, we've got a new crop of greedheads anxious to cash register out of their homes and siphon money from Google into their voracious mouths.  Unlike last week, it mostly doesn't work this time.

Justin meets up with old high school pal "Kevin" at Milennium Towers and I for one am curious about where the fuck this high school is.  (Oh, it's Gateway; here's a 2002 SF Gate piece on a much younger Justin interning at City Hall. Sounds like he wanted to go into politics instead of getting loathsome people houses in SF, but there you go.)  I hope Kevin is a long-form performance art piece with his dog named Kevyn Jr. and his stupid polar bear sweater and his apartment and his desire to become a jam enterpeneur because if this is all real AND it's coupled with his insane request to get almost $4 million for his little apartment (later talked down to 3 mil) then he's just a gluttonous snake like the rest of them who happens to think he's so quirky and charming and that's much worse somehow.

For some reason Justin thinks the way to blood-draw 3 million dollars from some sucker for this place is to have a fashion show?  So he gets some guy to put a bunch of mannequins fucking inside? And that will make people swoon and hand over their Dropbox fortune?

I don't know anything about fashion or real estate but the only thing this makes me want to buy is a flamethrower.  Eventually some mental deficient offers $2.8 for this place and of course Kevin won't take it.  We'll taste jam in hell together Kevin.

Andrew is not in San Francisco at all, which is a positive development for everyone else in San Francisco but unfortunately it looks like he's only temporarily detained in Livermore, where a little guy with a beard spends his days rolling around a 7000 square foot mansion that keeps getting described as Tuscan although it's in fucking Livermore and not Tuscany and also having red tiles and a pergola does not make any McMansion "Tuscan."  It's surrounded by a chardonnay vineyard because of course.

Returning to SOMA, as we often do, Roh is at the Metropolitan, where Ching would like him to sell a room at the W furnished by Ikea with an assist from the Free Stuff section of Craigslist.  Oh, there's a tenant they can't get rid of, and this little cockroach has committed the grave sin of leaving its shoddy belongings all over the unit.  The apartment is owned by MR. WONG, an "investor in China."

Mr. Wong's lair I mean office

Mr. Wong initially demands ONE POINT FOUR MILLION AMERICAN DOLLARS for this place but that is ridiculous even by San Francisco standards and Roh convinces Mr. Wong to go at the more reasonable 1.25.  Next a parade of assholes stomp through the place and pronounce it "ugly" and "horrible," just like their souls.  Eventually "Heidi," who has cultivated an aesthetic somewhere between truck stop waitress and Divine, comes forth with an offer: one million dollars.  Roh gets her to come up to 1.25 but I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS.

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.  Mere offers of under asking are loosed upon the world.  Jam Magnate/Complicated Hairstyle Kevin will not sell Mannequin Fuck Palace for under 3 mil, so our work here is done.  Tiny Wine Tycoon suddenly remembers that he has a daughter who wants to get married 'midst the rolling hills and lifted trucks of Livermore and so he cannot bear to sell Tuscan Towne for 3.8 or any other price.  Roh meets with Heidi fresh off her shift at the Flying J but she is about to grind out a Benson & Hedges in his eye when she finds out that Mr. Wong is no longer selling.  Instead, he is transforming the tenant into a postapocalyptic cyborg warrior who will do his dark bidding.  One day Mr. Wong will be the landlord of all of us.

Million Dickhead Listing SF: So much fucking greed. Greed pouring out of people's eyes.

Remember Gordon Gekko's famous greed speech speech from the movie "Wall Street"?



What seemed somewhere between disturbing and obscene in 1987 now seems positively quaint.  And compared to the viperous house-leeches on last night's episode, Gordon Gekko is basically St. Augustine.  These people don't just want obscene gobs of money for their houses; they want huge, dripping bags of money, with gold coins falling out the top and huge dollar signs on the side.  Every extra $50K gives them visible full-body orgasms.  It's quite a scene.

Justin finds himself in SOMA, as we call it, where some people bought a boring-ass loft a few years ago for $1.2 million and now want $2.1 because symmetry.  He decides the way to market this thing is with an Airnstream trailer at Off the Grid Fort Mason because, in his words, "If you want to find dumb rich hipster techies you have to go to a food truck festival."  Finally, we agree on something, Justin!  He shows the box to a stream of dejected buyers, disappointed in the lack of a gym or rooftop deck or why is this kitchen not bigger and why didn't Mommy look at me every second I'm so special.

Roh is trying to move some huge pile in the Marina - a "very sexy area," he says.  If the Marina were a person, you would probably fuck it.  Anyway, the owner of  this huge 2-unit pile that looks like a hotel in Sarasota bought it for $3.2 mil 10 years ago and now Roh thinks he can get her 4.6.  She and her accent seem cool with that.

Andrew, meanwhile, is in what they're calling Nopa now, which, he says, "used to be a shithole," like everywhere else he goes in Our Garbage City.  Some dude with some yappy dogs is trying to move his condo for too much and Andrew gets him to set it at $1.098 mil.  After everything else on this fucking show, that seems like a huge bargain.

Back in the Marina, Roh is having trouble moving Casa Grande, maybe because everyone knows that it will melt like hot wax and sink into the warm, bubbling mud as soon as there's any earthquake over a 6.5 and you're basically paying almost 5 mil to rent a house until that happens.  He actually uses the word "liquefaction" at one point which is a better buyer repellent than saying there was a torture-murder in the solarium or the prior owner was a cat hoarder.

HERE COMES THE GREED.  Everyone's getting offers and none of the money-breathers want to take them.

GREED #1: Roh gets a full-price offer for a building that is literally going to vanish into the liquid Earth sometime in the next 30 years and SHE WON'T TAKE IT.  She wants more money!  MORE MORE MORE MORE MONEY MORE FOR ME MONEY MONEY MONEY

GREED #2: Justin meets up with Stephanie who I guess is the SOMA box's seller agent at Big 4, which must have a kickback arrangement with this show, for a couple of blood orange bellinis and TURNS DOWN his all-cash no contingency offer of $1.7 million.  ARRRRGGGHHH FUCK ALL THESE PEOPLE.  But they'll take 1.8.  This is the kind of dick-swinging that even people named Stephanie do for fun.

GREED #3: Roh gets it up to 4.7 million.  Greedhead wants MORE MORE MORE MORE but finally takes 4.8.

GREED #4: Even the nice little man with the 2 dogs and the tastefully furnished place in "Nopa" is getting in on the action now.  1.098 million?  NO I WANT MORE MONEY PLUS I WANT TO KEEP LIVING THERE FOR FREE.  Surprisingly, tentacles do not burst forth from the ground and drag this man screaming into a dark netherworld but the buyers instead are like "OK sure!  Here, take more money and keep living there for a few more months."

In closing, this show is depressing as fuck.

Million Dickhead Listing SF: My monastery floors are better than your monastery floors

Sorry this is so late.  The past two weeks daycare has been closed so I've been babysitting I mean parenting in the mornings which means I've been cycling between the park, the bus[*], back to the park, and then the couch to watch Big Hero 6 AGAIN AND AGAIN.[**] This means I have less time for the Things That Matter, like blogging and whatever the fuck else it is I do.

[*] The kid loves Muni so much.  She thinks it's magical and wants to ride the bus or the train whenever possible.  JUST WAIT, KID.

[**] Her taste in Big Hero 6 is now exquisitely refined to the point where sometimes she just wants to watch "THE MASK THE MASK THE MASK" - i.e., any action sequences featuring the villain, who wears a kabuki-type mask.  Also, it's a pretty good movie so I guess we're lucky.

ON TO THE SHOW.  Ruh Roh is still trying to move the A/C unit on Octavia.  Whilst showing some idle rich around, he drops the, to my mind, stunning detail that the floors were taken from a "Benedictine monastery in Austria."  WHAT THE FUCK.  WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.  This had better be a lie, or it moves that apartment from "ugly" and "uncomfortable" to "actually evil." We can at least be consoled with the fact that tearing up floors from a monastery to put them in your yuppie box is a fucking 100% guaranteed express ticket to a Hieronymous Bosch-style hell.

GOOD LUCK IN YOUR NEW LOCATION

Roh's also in on the Bernal Heights place from last week - you remember, the one that's in a slum so grotesque it makes a Rio favela look like Chestnut Street at brunchtime.  He's representing some potential buyer and human-shaped eye roll Andrew has the seller.  They sit across a table from each other and negotiate like two mildly developmentally disabled fifth graders playing Risk.  The place sells for $1.9 million.  Everybody eats salad.  The universe continues to entropy.  Eventually - not soon enough for my taste - the Sun will swallow and vaporize  the Bernal Heights property.  It will then be worth much less.

Meanwhile, Justin has been engaged by a dentist who may not be a dentist but might be an actor playing the dentist from "Little Shop of Horrors" because that's what he seems like.  He lives in a penthouse in Pacific Heights and is friends with Kathy Hilton and had his picture taken with Prince Charles once so I guess that's about everything you need to know.  He wants to sell his place for $4,000,000,000 or something.  Justin can't make anyone pay that much.  He laughs nervously and everyone dies.

Back at Andrew's place, his gay fiancee says he maybe wants to fuck some chicks.

IT'S GO TIME on Monastery Manor.  The seller, a pointy man with round spectacles, insists on $2.6 million.  Roh's seller won't pay a penny more than $2.599 million.  This isn't a joke!  I'm not making this up!  In the big-balled high-pressure world of real estate, YOU WIN if you convince the seller to accept 99.9999997% of his asking price.  I wish spectacles had turned him down.  "YOU INSULT ME WITH YOUR PROPOSAL. I SHALL BROOK NO FURTHER TALK OF THIS SORT.  GOOD DAY TO YOU SIR."  Instead, that jackoff takes it!  HAHAHA YOU JUST GOT ROBBED, MY MAN.  $2,599,000 instead of $2,600,000!! What a fucking rube.  You think thousand dollar bills grow on trees?  Idiot.  Whew boy.

[Ed. note: I'm well aware that many, if not most, places in SF go for over asking in today's go-go Webvan Pets.com-style economy. For whatever reason, that doesn't happen that much on this show. Maybe they're all overpriced to start with? Anyway, fuck these people.]

Million Dickhead Listing SF: That neighborhood you thought was so cool? It's shit. Your neighborhood is a literal pile of shit.

I'm talking about Bernal Heights, of course, or at least the "OTHER SIDE OF THE HILL" Bernal Heights where a goddam honest hardworking developer can't hollow out a hillside and create an Open Floor Plan without potential occupants being forced to look at such Slums of Calcutta-type features as a neighbor with sheets for blinds or an oddly placed dryer vent.  THESE ANIMALS DON'T EVEN APPRECIATE THE $1.6 MILLION GIFT I'M BRINGING TO THIS SHITHOLE YOU CALL A NEIGHBORHOOD.

Maybe it'll bring the prices down!  Nah.  Somehow our friend Andrew must convince some rube to drop that kind of money for yet another featureless box, this one inconveniently located not in the Mission.  He is utterly stymied by the impossibility of this task until it dawns on him there might be a TECH SHUTTLE nearby, a phrase he repeats with the intensity and determination that a pilgrim on the way to Lourdes might deploy the Ave Maria.  Later, when Andrew for some reason is meeting Justin for drinks outside the Balboa Cafe (I think), a tech shuttle goes by and Andrew LEAPS FROM HIS CHAIR, chasing it, moaning "tech shuuuuuuutle tech shuuuuuuuuutle" as if his implorations might cause GBUS TO MTV to jump from its assigned stops and pick up bright-eyed young tech monsters on the Very Wrong Side of the Hill.  But alas, it recedes into the night, along with Andrew's dreams.

This is a good place to add that Balboa Cafe is a terrible, terrible place.

What of Justin?  When he's not begging Andrew for his eponymous domain name back, what else is he doing?  He's selling the house on San Carlos, and to do this he has invited both brokers and prospective (tech) buyers, who all arrive at the same time looking like immaculately-clad parents and their potentially bright but ugly and ill-dressed children.  Shockingly, Developer Beard did not remove every interior wall to transform a perfectly fine house into Massive Cattle Enclosure Floor Plan, but thoughtfully provided a "Tesla charger" for the garage.  Justin shakes down some dork for $3.5 million BUT WAIT this surely loathsome person doesn't have a Tesla.  He or she has a Range Rover and it won't fit in the garage BZZZZZZZZZT that'll be a two-to-three month delay.  Not a problem!  I'll be in Gstaad.  Ring me when the Rovie fits.

Relentlessly cheerful Roh, meanwhile, has been lobbed the penthouse at 8 Octavia, that building that looks like a huge window air conditioner right when you get off the freeway.  Inside, of course, it looks like EVERY OTHER PLACE ON THIS SHOW.  Design is certainly not my forte, but has it always been this uniform?  Or is just a recent development that every high-end interior is COMPLETELY INDISTINGUISHABLE from the next?  If you dropped the Senior VP of Product Ninja or whatever from Google into any one of these places, s/he would not have the slightest chance in hell of telling you whether or not s/he was in his/her OWN FUCKING HOUSE or someone else's.

I don't have a picture this week, so look at this baby chihuahua instead.

Roh has a plan.  He will secure the attendance of architect Stanley Saitowitz at his open house party.  Apparently Stanley Saitowitz has the panty-dropping prowess of an architectural Channing Tatum and his mere presence alone will empty wallets and hearts.  After a series of unsuccessful phone calls, Roh finally sits outside Stanley's office in his car which may not be the best idea for a Muslim dude stalking a famous Jewish guy, but Roh isn't rendered or anything and Stanley shows up to his party, gets in some selfies, and hopefully gets motherfucking PAID.

It's just another day in Our Garbage City.

Million Dickhead Listing SF: Worse Than I Thought

You guys, I actually didn't loathe everyone on this show after the first episode and I thought I was getting soft or whatever but NOT TO WORRY because this episode cleared all that up.  Let us turn our attention to some place on San Carlos that some "developer" with a beard has evicted a bunch of cool people from and gutted and is now turning into another grey flatscreen media room open concept nightmare.

"Techies love when a property looks Victorian on the outside but they want modern inside," says JUSTIN, who I suspect secretly hates himself but can't let on.  Isn't this just the best one-line metaphor for Today's San Francisco?  "We want everything to appear cool, but we actually want it to be as dangerous as playing Call of Duty in our former dorm room at Cornell."  Justin promises Beard $3.25 mil for the San Carlos place.

Justin has an assistant named PIERRE who arrives for a meeting clutching a dead raccoon to his chest in another metaphor for the Changing City.

Pierre says he is "fitting in well here, like a glove," and he wants everyone at the all hands meeting to put the lotion in the basket.

Since the gut-job on San Carlos is icky and horrible before we put in Surround Sound and a Viking range, Justin markets it to the vapid apperie by conducting some kind of Occupying Army Walking Tour of the Mission and says "I'm kind of like the Pied Piper of the Mission District" without any apparent irony or awareness that the OG Pied P led rats out of the City whereas BOMP BOMP BOMP I'm not going to hit you over the head with this any more.

Justin takes them to a "new place" which I have identified as Cease and Desist with my superior research skills which means I entered the address into Google and also to Hog & Rocks which is a great neighborhood hang if you like $30 burgers & fries.

Let's move on.  Ruh-Roh is still trying to unload that hotel in St. Francis Wood and changes up strategies by going away from bootie parties and instead trying to push it on the Olds by which I mean people my age.  The seller's agent, a Cruella de Ville type with angry lipstick and the haughty manner of an antebellum plantation owner wife, basically spits in his face for a $6.2 million all cash offer but is cool with 6.3.  To translate for normal people like us, that's like saying absolutely no way will I pay more than $8.99 for a twelver of PBR but oh OK fuck it you got me I'll pay $9.50.  FINE. YOU DRIVE A HARD BARGAIN SIR.

There's a lot of shit with Andrew and that place in Alamo but who really gives a fuck.

Million Dickhead Listing: SF

Million Dollar Listing is a docudrama about annoying people helping loathsome people buy ostentatious apartments in New York.  It took a few years, but now San Francisco apparently has enough loathsome people to form the critical mass necessary for an outpost of the show here, so LET IT BE SO.

MDL:SF focuses on three real estate agents, two white males and a token Afghani Muslim male.  "Justin" is a native San Franciscan.  How do we know that?  Because native San Franciscans are like vegans or people who don't own a TV and make sure you know that in the first 13 seconds of meeting you.  "Andrew" shares a loft in South Beach with his fiance Paul and I'm guessing one to three dogs.  He grew up in Florida and had to steal toilet paper to survive.  Roh escaped from Afghanistan on a donkey and suddenly Andrew's toilet paperless past doesn't seem so shitty WHOOPS SORRY ABOUT THAT.

I grudgingly have to admit that Roh is actually kind of likable what with his indomitable spirit and pretty wife and cute baby and whatever.

IN THIS EPISODE each agent is tasked with selling a different MILLION DOLLAR LISTING.  As you know, a MILLION DOLLAR LISTING in San Francisco is just a VACANT FUCKING LOT, so this show is actually Multi Million Dollar Listing.

This is a $1,000,000 vacant lot at 501 Noriega. Bring a tent! 

Justin is trying to sell an ugly house in Noe Valley with one of those complete interior gut jobs where everything is now grey and flat.  The "business manager" for the people who currently own it is a severe little man who wants $4 million for the place.  Even Justin seems taken aback at this unblinking rapaciousness.

Justin seems to live with a married couple and their child in the Marina, but oddly does not appear to be a manny or in a polyamorous triad with them.  Maybe Justin made less than $200K last year and thus can't afford his own place.

Andrew is tasked with selling a concrete box in Alamo, which is not in San Francisco or actually anywhere near San Francisco and actually doesn't really exist at all except in the sense that it's a zip code containing houses out there in the far fucking East Bay somewhere.  Somehow Andrew is more annoying than anyone else on this show, and I'm including the entrepeneur with "Adventurer" in his Twitter bio.  Anyway, if you want to live in a magazine spread in Alamo that's your problem.

Roh is trying to unload a monstrous pile in St. Francis Wood for like $6,000,000.  PROBLEM: Everyone knows that St. Francis Wood is for olds who know better than to spend $6,000,000 on a house.  How to get the young, hip, and horrible into SFW?  SOLUTION: Market the place as a soundproofed after-hours party palace!  That should go over well with the CEO of Wells Fargo next door.   Roh's business partner Joel is a game show host crossed with a Pomeranian and I hope we will see more of Joel let me tell you.

The producers bring our three agents together at a clearly staged party at the end, where Andrew announces that he's bought the domain names of the other two guys' actual people names.  What kind of weird fucked up stalker shit is that. That is one step away from showing them telephoto pictures of themselves in the shower.  Why are you such a fucking creep Andrew.

FINAL SCORE: Justin sells the Noe Valley imported Italian countertop for $3.8 mil.  Andrew is mad because some guy with an accent invited the owners to the party where he was going to sell the house and now they want to keep it, destroying everyone's life in the process.  As far as I could tell, Roh has not yet unloaded Geritol Studio 54 and still has an enormous and frankly frightening beard.

The Bachelorette: This is going to be a very exciting season!

Hi guys!  Time for another season of the Bachelorette!  This time, we've got TWICE THE EXCITEMENT because Britt and Kaitlyn from last season must first compete to see who will have a chance at love and happiness this year!  ABC is also doing some things differently because instead of our usual LA mansion, the girls will be greeting the lucky guys by GORATHAG, the Hell Portal, site of the Deaths of the 10,000 and Gateway to the Screaming-Lands!

Let's meet our contestants!  First up is THOROCK THE DESTROYER.

Any joker can ride up in a limo and hop out and whatever.  Not Thorock!  He makes quite an entrance riding astride Gnargon, the Dark Beast.  Is that Gnargon poop on the driveway?!  Sorry, ABC!

Britt leans over to Kaitlyn.  "He's cute," she coos.  Thorock dismounts.  "BEHOLD MORTALS, I AM THOROCK THE DESTROYER, EATER OF FLESH, DESTROYER OF CITIES, BRAVE MEN TREMBLE BEFORE MY GAZE."

Kaitlyn makes the first move!  "Heyyyyyy," she says, "Are those horns real?"

"I HAVE TAKEN THIS FORM FOR 20,000 YEARS.  MANY SOULS I HAVE IMPALED ON THESE HORNS.  I AM THOROCK," Thorock says.  Was Britt rolling her eyes a little?  "Nice to meet you Thorock," Kaitlyn says.  "I look forward to getting to know you."

"I AM THOROCK," Thorock says.

Here comes a limo!  It's our next contestant, DEAD TED BUNDY IN HELL.  He hops out of the limo wearing a cast on his arm.  Kaitlyn and Britt exchange nervous glances.

"Hey there!," says Dead Ted Bundy in Hell.  "Can one of you ladies help me put these groceries in the car?"

Kaitlyn and Britt look at each other knowingly.  "Isn't that a ploy you used to lure unsuspecting young women into your car so you could abduct and murder them?," says Britt.  "Come on, Dead Ted Bundy in Hell, we weren't born yesterday!"

Dead Ted Bundy in Hell cracks a sheepish smile and takes off the fake cast.  "You got me, you got me," he chuckles.  "But seriously, you are both so beautiful!  I would hate to have to choose one of you to kill I mean date."  He heads into the house.  "I like him," says Kaitlyn.

Another limo!  The door opens but it doesn't look like anyone gets out.  Wait a minute, I can sort of see him, it's a Vaporous Sentient Mist!  He blows over towards Kaitlyn and Britt.  "Oh wow, nice to meet you, Vaporous Sentient Mist!," says Britt.  The Mist pauses in midair, then blows inside.  Britt cups a hand to the side of her mouth and stage-whispers "SO. SKINNY." at Kaitlyn.

Next up is BRAD, 28, an accountant from Missoula, Montana.  "Good evening, ladies," he says.  "I'd like to see both of you on my balance sheet!"  Kaitlyn giggles and gives Brad a peck on the cheek.  We later hear his screams from inside the house as Thorock dismembers him and feeds him to Gnargon the Dark Beast.

Here comes the next contestant!  Wait, it's just a dog walking up!  I didn't know you could bring dogs on the show!  Oh, wow, it's ROODLES, THE TALKING DOG!  "'Sup," says Roodles.  "WOW!," says Kaitlyn, "Are you like an actual talking dog?"

"The fuck do you think?," says Roodles.  "I'm fucking talking.  I'm a fucking dog.  Do the math.  Jesus Christ.  Where's the fucking bar."

"We'll have to see about him," says Kaitlyn.

OK, now, as you might have heard, there's kind of a twist this year, because Kaitlyn and Britt BOTH can't be the Bachelorette so instead we've devised a contest of sorts - a fight in the Ring of Death!  Kaitlyn will be given the trident and net, and Britt the shortsword and shield.  I think, assuming Britt can keep the flowing crimson blood out of her eyes, she's got a real chance.  Kaitlyn's never shown much promise with the long weapons.  STAY TUNED.

The Bachelor: The Utterly Predictable and Boring Conclusion!!!

Yes, we have reached the end of what Chris Harrison calls the "wildest season in Bachelor history" which I guess is true if you think milk is wild.  Back in the frozen wasteland of Arlington, Farmer stares at the void to which he is trying to entice a mate.

Here comes Baby Voice.  Meeting the Farmily drives her pitch up to a level audible only by dogs.  Let's meet Mom, a sturdy type who looks like she could farm the shit out of something, and sit down for, what, sloppy joes?  Really?  That's the best we can do?  You know you're on TV, right?  BV goes around telling everyone how she can't wait to destroy her fulfilling career she's dreamed her whole life of having and move to this desolate abyss.  Farmer, meanwhile, informs the Sisters Three that he thinks Baby Voice will keep him "grounded" like what the fuck if you were any more grounded you'd be a fucking potato.

Next up is the Virg.  Playing to type, she brings cookies instead of wine like that whorebag from yesterday.  She gets the same sitdown with the sisters but blows it by telling them she's not sure she wants to move to Lunar Surface, IA.  Virg tells Mom she can't figure out why Farmer is single.  Fuck, I can even figure that out: because the only humans he ever comes into contact with are his own fucking family, duh.  Anyway, at this point it's so screamingly obvious how it's going to turn out that we all as a nation kinda lost interest.

Back in Dubuque, the Rio de Janeiro of Iowa, Farmer is going on family-free dates with our two finalists.  Farmer needs to have an important talk with Virg but it's hard because she's apparently staying in a Motel 6 by the freeway.  

Virg isn't 100% sure she wants to move to Arlington and says she doesn't know what she would do there.  I guess you don't know that my neighbor's sister makes $87 hourly on the computer . She has been without work for five months but last month her income was $21602 just working on the computer for a few hours. learn this here now..............

Dubuque proves too exciting and Baby Voice's final date is back on the farm.  They're going "harvesting" but it looks like they're working a big field of deadness so all BV will be harvesting is boredom and despair.  In a rare bit of insight, she says "This could be my future for a long, long, long, long time."  Then it's back to the Farmer pad, which looks like someone paid to stage a freeway rest area.

Let's get to the fucking finale of this borefest.  Usually the Big Proposal is in Fiji or St. Maarten or some other place where you can get a fucking drink, but this time it's BACK ON THE FUCKING FARM.  Here comes Jeweler to the Stars Neil Lane who looks a little stunned to be in Iowa like WHAT IS THIS PLACE WHERE IS MR. CHOW OH GOD ONE OF THESE PRE-LEATHER JACKET THINGS BRUSHED UP AGAINST ME.  Looks like the proposal will be at a creepy abandoned barn left over from filming True Detective.  WHO WANTS TO PROPOSE IN CARCOSA!

Virg arrives at the Death Chamber first.  He lets her down with the old "you're gonna make somebody incredibly lucky."  That person is actually you, Becca!  She actually doesn't even cry in the Crying Limo.  Meanwhile Farmer stares at his tractor for a long time.  WHY CAN'T YOU BE A PERSON I LOVE YOU TRACTOR.

Blah blah blah he gets engaged to Baby Voice.  You really can get married after 3 1/2 dates!  Love is so real.

I didn't watch the whole aftershow but The Wife informs that the Shocking Announcement is that instead of just Kaitlyn being the Bachelorette, she and Britt are going to have to compete and let the men choose which one.  Oh for fucking fuck's sake, ABC.  God forbid we do anything without men deciding.  Fuck everything.

The Bachelor: You fucked up, dude

We seem to have found ourselves in Bali, which is odd for this season because it's not in the Rust Belt and doesn't appear to be a featureless wasteland.  ABC sure saving the money this year though because even the resort doesn't look as swank as they usually do. Three and a half, four TripAdvisor circles tops.

First date is with Kaitlyn and poor Kaitlyn's hair has fought the good fight but has been utterly vanquished by Bali.  They're heading into some temple which features a statue of my corner store guy when someone takes too much change out of the Leave a Penny cup.

There's some walking around Bali which actually looks a little rundown tbh and then they're OH MY FUCKING GOD THERE'S MONKEYS ALL OVER ME OH GOD MAKE IT STOP oh wait I guess it's supposed to be like that?  Fuck that.  The only primate I want crawling all over me is Kaitlyn.  LOVE YA GIRL.

Outdoor dinner in a faux jungle temple setting of some kind.  K has a "weird fear of loss from my last relationship" but she keeps picking skin or something off her lips and that's giving me a weird fear myself.  Anyway blah blah blah and it's OFF TO THE FANTASY SUITE with a bathtub full of cherry Jell-O.  "It's rose petals," The Wife says.  Oh.  Farmer is "excited about the potential they have" which hopefully involves full-body antiperspirant because brosef is sweating like a fat man in a sauna.

Day 2.  While Kaitlyn walks of shame Farmer is off to meet Baby Voice at the docks.  Apparently Baby Voice can't hug anyone without jumping on them and wrapping her legs around them which must be supes awkward at family reunions.  They're off for some wine boating and face mashing and Baby Voice spends the whole time explaining why her sister is such a fucking bitch and WHOA girlfriend's got some serious rugburns on those knees.  Did she already Fantasy Suite with someone?

Doesn't matter, he's not listening to anything she's saying anyway.  Their outdoor dinner is at a slightly nicer resort.  Farmer's all worried that BV won't want to live in Abandoned Hellscape, Iowa, but she's all no problem!  I'll just quit my job that I've wanted my whole life and move to Depression Junction and squeeze out as many puppies as you want!  You're an inspiration for women everywhere, BV.  Off to the Fantasy Suite with you.

Day 3 with the Virg.  There's some boring walking around rural Bali and they drop in on the village psychic who big surprise tells them they should hit it tonight, so he's not really that good at psychicing.  Farmer says "No matter what we do it's gonna be fun" but THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE WRONG, SWEAT LODGE.  Their outdoor dinner is the same place as last night.  There's a lot of talk.  Are all virgins this boring?  She's also wearing a dress last seen on an episode of Three's Company.  Meanwhile he's sweating like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News.  Oh, here comes the Fantasy Suite card.  Virg voiceovers "He doesn't know he's going into the Fantasy Suite with a virgin."  Doesn't have to come out with one VA VA VOOM!!!!  Anyway, off to the FS where she breaks the bad news and he says "GET THE FUCK OUT" no I'm totally shitting you, he says he respects that, which is what you have to say.  The shitty thing is now he HAS to keep her or he'll look like a total dick who dumped her just because she's a virgin.

The next day.  Farmer stares meaningfully at the ocean, as required.  He is confused and this calls for a sit-down with Chris Harrison, who does not seem to suffer from the Bali Flop Sweats like Farmer.  They have a long talk about something, I don't know, I kinda zoned out at this part and then looked at my phone for a while.

Day 5?  7?  A milllion? Who cares.  The Rose Cer is going to be at the Most Sacred Temple in Bali where no touching is allowed so it's perfect for the Virgin.  Baby Voice has taken on an odd hue that does not go well with her coral lipstick.  Oh, wait, Farmer has to go have a private chat with the Virg but instead of dumping her like a sane and normal person he drags her back out.  Of course Baby Voice gets the first rose.  Then  the Virg, duh, just like I said.  You fucked up real bad dude.  He escorts Kait to the Crying Boxy Minivan where she actually has her shit together pretty well.  Farmer uses his ABC-issued sweatpad to try and blot up some of the rivers of sweat as she pulls away.  This is dumb.

The Bachelor: n00dz

It's Night 2 of our Special Two Night Event/Painful Slog and we're still in Des Moines and going on a solo date with Becca who "likes to take things slow" OR NOT AT ALL I GUESS RIGHT HUH WINK WINK.  They sit around and talk about how she's never been in love before.  Whatever.  Back at the hotel, SparklyBritt is leaving! Oh wait, no she's not.  Oh, wait, she is.  What the fuck?  I guess they can't fix her roots in Des Moines and she needs to see her hair team back in LA.  They're about to start the Rose Cer and Britt needs to talk and everyone is SO MAD.  I think she wants him to beg her to stay or something but he gives her the "I'll walk you out" which I wish you could use to end any relationship.  Like, instead of a protracted and annoying divorce you could just get up off the couch and go "I'll walk you out" and that would be it.

Anyway, your Final 4 is Baby Voice, Virgin II, the Pornstar, and Kaitlyn.  Sorry, Carly's Eyebrows.  That's what you get for snitching.  She gives a pretty good Crying Limo performance about how her family will see her "really sad again, like they always do." God, why such a downer, Carly?

Time for hometown dates.  Literally ANY PLACE in America will be less depressing than Farmer's hometown.  First we're off to Shreveport Louisiana, where Becca has some kind of Stevie Nicks of the Playground thing going on.

Becca's got a Nancy Grace-style Mom and a sister who looks like a guy dressed up as Becca.  Sis basically says Becca is a passionless husk who will never want to do a sex with a man.  Nancy Grace and Farmer head downstairs and what, are they running a gym in the basement?

Mom says she's never seen Becca holding hands with anyone, so maybe Sis was right.  Wait, it is just now dawning on me that Becca still hasn't told him she's a fucking virgin!  Oh man, this is going to be the best Fantasy Suite ever.  They head over to the ferris wheel at the LA State Fair and there are probably people who have literally lost their virginity on the ferris wheel at the LA State Fair but not tonight.

Next, Baby Voice in Chicago, or actually a featureless suburb.  Off to the fertility clinic where Baby Voice works and there's an uncomfortable moment when it appears that she and a coworker are going to have Farmer ejaculate into a cup but that seems more like Jade's territory!  WACKA WACKA.  Then over to BV's sister's place where sister sensibly refuses to bless the potential TV union until BV's the last one standing.  Good for you, sis.

Off to Phoenix to meet Kaitlyn who said she was Canadian? Oh, her family lives there in the winter.  Obama can't control the border!  For some reason they go to a recording studio and record a rap song. I guess the producers drew that out of a hat.  It's basically the whitest thing since fruit suspended in Jello.  Over at K's family casa, we learn that Mom is very protective of Kaitlyn since her "last experience."  Yikes!  Cheating or beating, one of the two, I bet.

Time for Jade in Gehring, Nebraska, which looks like the Vegas strip compared to Arlington.  Here we meet Dad, Dad's fiancee, and Mom.  Dad's fiancee is probably a hairstylist who exacted an awful revenge on Mom.  There's also a chinbeard brother and EVERYONE is just fucking DYING to tell Farmer about the porn but don't.  Chinbeard, though, says that Jade is a "wild mustang" even though he's not an Old West saloonkeeper so I don't know.  OK, time to fess up.  They check into a seedy motel with a laptop and she beats around the bush so to speak for a while and then breaks the news and then shows him the goods!  This is the face of a man looking at his date's naked body:

This is where I'd be CANCEL THE REST OF THE SHOW WE ARE GETTING FUCKING MARRIED but Farmer's pretty chill.

Back in Iowa for the Rose Ceremony and guess who gets cut?  That's what you get for being honest, Jade. Next time take a hint from Becca and withhold, withhold, withhold.

Next week, we're finally GOING SOMEWHERE.

The Bachelor: Arlington, Where Hopelessness and Suicide Meet!

First off, let me say there was an hour-long clip show or something I will not be addressing because fuck you have to be kidding me plus it just looked like it was 30 minutes of The Widow Kelsey dissembling and 30 minutes of former Bachelorette Andi on a wicked crying jag.  Fuck that.

So we're still in fucking Deadwood like we are going to die in this cowboy Jersey shore.  Megan the Simple corners Farmer to ask him a very important question.  What is the sun.  No, it's actually what does he think about her.  I guess not much because suddenly she's leaving and now she'll never find out where babies come from.  There's supposed to be a Rose Ceremony anyway but Farmer cancels it because next WE'RE GOING TO IOWA and if he's going then by God every one of you has to go too.  Man, these chicks probably watched old seasons where every week was like ICELAND! PARIS! INDIA! and this season it's SOUTH DAKOTA! IOWA! A GAS STATION BATHROOM!  They got rooked but they still have to say bullshit like "Iowa is so pretty" and "Oh my God," I shit you not, to footage of pigeons.

OH MY GOD IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL

Solo date with Jade in Farmer's hometown!  Holy shit, Farmer's hometown is a Dorothea Lange picture but more depressing.  Oh look, it's the town sign!

Well, I guess "Where hills and prairie meet" is better than "Hellish Moonscape of Despair."  After a quick tour of Farmer's house, which looks like one of the places they don't pick on "House Hunters," it's off to downtown Arlington, a bleak nightmare of boarded-up stores and nothingness.  That night, they go to a football game at Farmer's old school and then after the crowd chants "Kiss! Kiss!" and these are their primitive mating rites in Arlington. Luckily we're not here for the "Kill! Kill!" ceremony.

Solo date with Baby Voice in the compared to Arlington vibrant metropolis of Des Moines.  "Des Moines has a real metropolitan feel to it," Farmer says, which means he saw a brown person there once.  They go to an "art gallery" and are so moved by the experience they spend the rest of the day taking snaps of each other.  DES MOINES: FEEL THE EXCITEMENT!!!!!

Meanwhile the rest of the chix decide to road trip to Arlington and check out their potential nightmarish future and they're wooing like they're going to Cabo instead of a Walking Dead set.  Their reactions when they actually get there are pretty priceless tbh and they have the vacant expressions of Vietnam vets who saw things you can't imagine, man.

HUMOROUS AND TRUE IOWA SIDENOTE: Whilst texting last night with a friend whose brother went to college in Iowa, we were unbelievably pleased to learn that friend's brother's first year roommate in Iowa hadn't seen an ESCALATOR until he was 17 years old.  MOVING STAIRS!!!! WHAT SORCERY IS THIS!!!! Iowa.

Back in Des Moines, we meet Farmer's three best friends, who look like they enjoy cigars and racism.  They're out at some bar and fuck, after Arlington, Des Moines looks like the Lower East Side.  Baby Voice wants to talk about her "family dynamic" which is that her Mom's dead and she isn't in contact with her Dad.  That's sad!  Maybe he got eaten by zombies in Arlington.  She's looking for someone with great parents because she doesn't have any and wants some!  Back off, lady!  I'm still using these ones!

Jade can no longer carry the weight of her Dark Secret and decides to unburden herself to Carly's Eyebrows.  She did some nude modeling for Playboy!  BFD, Jade.  Playboy is tamer than Chuck E Cheese.  Call me when you do Hustler or your name is an autofill on Redtube.

Group date with Britt, Carly's Eyebrows, and Kaitlyn.  There's about 10 seconds of ice skating and then Britt tells Farmer with a straight face that she "felt alive" in Arlington which I guess so because you were literally the only person there.  Carly's Eyebrows ain't having it and she blows Britt up to Farmer and tells him that Britt DID NOT FEEL ALIVE AT ALL in Arlington THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

Later there's a lot of blah blah blah with Kaitlyn and Britt.  Britt is very upset about not being in First Place!  Kaitlyn nervously hides behind whiskey.  I like Kaitlyn.

It just ends.  No one gets kicked off.  Tonight it's on again.  It's the Most Dramatic Episode ever, probably.

The Bachelor: Badlands, or Worst Lands?

Was it just me, or was this episode boring as fuck?  I mean, we all put up with a lot to watch this shit, but this one really seemed to drag for some reason.  Anyway, we pick up in media res with The Widow Kelsey collapsed on the floor, suffering from a seemingly fatal case of crazy bitch.  Medics (Australian, I think - is there some reason why every reality show is contractually obligated to use Australian medics?) huddle around, trying to pump sane juice into her.  Sadly, she lives and returns to the Girl Cave cackling madly and talking about brownies.

So now we have a Rose Ceremony up top!  It's like going through a car wash backwards.  Teen Mom and Who The Fuck Is Samantha are out.  Samantha, we hardly knew ye.  Good luck in your new location.

We have unquestionably run out of locations to visit because we're going to Deadwood, South Dakota.  Oh, for a Deadwood/Bachelor crossover so I can hear Al Swearingen telling Kaitlyn that the only motherfucking reason to live is to make sure that other fucking cocksucker dies.  ABC has also run out of hotel budget because the girls are staying in a Holiday Inn with a corrugated steel exterior that looks like it was just flown in from Guantanamo.

What a fucking dump.  Anyway, one on one date with Becca, who looks like she played softball in college and orders her lingerie from J. Crew.  Unbelievably, she says she's never ridden a horse.  That is a bunch of bullshit, Becca.  There's some outdoor shit and horseback riding and a campfire and I don't know how she's going to eat that kebab because she never fully opens her mouth.  Farmer hits her with his usual "Where do you see yourself in 5 years" question and she says "Heading up the entire East Coast region!"  Not really.  I don't know what she said but I'm sure it was boring.  They have a long sleep-inducing conversation about feelings and I can tell she's a virgin because she wants 4-6 kids.

Group date!  These fillies are going to write some country music, aided by a park bench hobo and a carpet salesman wearing a cowboy hat.

Oh, it's famous country music people Big & Rich.  I like the bum looking one, he seems like he's drunk the whole time.  There's a lot of nothing and then Farmer gets up to sing.  He sounds like a Downs kid doing karaoke.  Of course Cruise Ship Carly sees this as her *BIG* *MOMENT* and does a full single spotlight ballad.  Then her eyebrows leap off and perform "La Cucaracha" to a mostly disinterested room.

Day turns to night and we're still hanging around this bar.  Just between you and me, Deadwood appears to be such a fucking tourist hole it makes Myrtle Beach look like Brussels.  Jade says she can see herself being in Iowa but she's from LA and she's thinking Field of Dreams instead of existential boredom and corn.  Farmer grabs SparklyBritt and they run off to a Big & Rich show, which is Britt's "virgin country music experience" like she's just desperate to have something virgin about her.  There's some rose thing and B&R play their carefully calibrated corporate rock/country.  They're like Kid Rock without the edge.  When they go back to the rest of the chix, everyone is SO MAD.  At least Baby Voice manages to squeak out that she's "here for the right reasons," so it's not a total loss.

Let's get to tonight's Main Event, the Widow Kelsey vs. Virgin I Cage Match of Death!!!!!!!  Everyone hops into a helicopter and flies over Mount Rushmore.  Virgin "literally with this can't even" and that might be the most coherent thing she's said so far.  Anyway, they land in some Badlands where there just happens to be a canopy bed and the whole thing looks like a Pink Floyd album cover.  Virgin puts Kels on blast and tells Farmer how everyone just hates her so much.  Natch Farmer immediately snitches her out to Kels, who sadly doesn't kill the Virgin.  Everyone cries.  Virgin would be a good match for anyone looking for an emotional Costa Concordia who needs psychiatric treatment if she gets a raspberry filling chocolate from the See's candy mix.  In the smartest move of the season, Farmer kicks them both off and that's it for this week.

Next week we're probably going to Bloomington Indiana, the way things are going so far.

New Bar Night: Patriot House, Hopwater

I love Bar Rescue, and I had heard that they were in town a while back trolling for a Bar to Rescue.  (Hilariously, they tried to hit up Shotwell's, which is doing just fine, TYVM.)  So when I learned courtesy of Inside Scoop that they had worked their magic on the Holding Company, you knew I would assemble a team to take a look.

If you worked anywhere around the Embarcadero Center from the 80's on, you probably had been to the Holding Company at some point, a featureless, fairly dark bar whose best days always seemed in the past and had such a ridiculous Gordon Gekko-type name that it just oozed Business Douche.

Anyway, Jon Taffer et al. presumably arrived and transformed the space into something much more current, much more San Francisco-centric, like....

Patriot House.  What the fuck.

That's right, the colonial Founding Fathers-themed bar you didn't know you wanted.  I can't figure out what the fuck motivated the Bar Rescue team to go all Paul Revere on Embarcadero 2, but I guess we'll find out in April when the episode airs.  Stephen has his theories:

@40goingon28 @periqueblend "We planned on using this menu in exurban Boston, but never got around to it."
— Stephen (@EamesEra) January 22, 2015

Makes as much sense as anything else, I guess.

We got there around 5:45 on a Friday and it was SLAMMED, although I would venture a guess that even bad old Holding Company would be slammed at 5:45 on a Friday.  It's still dark and hotel-bar-looking, but with more patriotic geegaws and portraits of Madison and crap.  It took forever to get a drink, but we finally did.

I had the "Taft's Crowd Pleaser" with gin, lemon juice, orgeat, orange flower water, and grated nutmeg.  I think the lemon and the orange flower water didn't like each other because it tasted like an undifferentiated glass of sweet.  Olu had the "Blue Whiskey Van" with Dickel white corn whiskey, lemon juice, and blue curacao.  It looked like it would be the perfect drink for a Continental Congress Sping Break Ba$h but Olu said he liked it.  It tasted like a Sweet Tart to me.  We switched to beer.

The menu's here; we got the sliders and the nachos, which both had calories.  Olu pointed out that they missed a big opportunity by not trying to tie ALL the food descriptions to historical figures.  Not sure what Franklin Pierce had to do with smashed potatoes, but they really missed the boat by not going with the "General Antonio López de Santa Anna Nachos."

The crowd was off-the-shelf Fleece N Checked Shirt.  At one point there was a group of 6 guys waiting  for a table all wearing black North Face and with the same haircut and how do you guys even tell each other apart?  We finally flagged someone down for the check and booked.

Then we took a cab up to Nob Hill and went to Hopwater Distribution, one of two beer bars in the Union Square area that recently opened and appear to be so close in concept and name there is no way not to get them confused.  (The other is apparently called Hogwash and is 2 blocks away and its Facebook page is full of grinning blondes and dudes holding up big beers WHOOOOO.)  Anyway, Hopwater was also jam-packed (again, Friday, duh) with another crowd of young thinkfluencers.  Seriously, the M-F ratio must have been like 10:1.  There was nowhere to stand and everyone was braying about apps.  "The one good thing about this bar is that it smells like french fries," Alissa said.  We had one beer and went across the the street to The Summer Place, which was ALSO unaccountably packed. Maybe I'm getting too old for this shit.  The end.

The Bachelor: Isn't my hair amazing? I mean my story. Isn't my story amazing.

Good morning, fellow farmers!  We have arrived in Santa Fe, because over 20 seasons we've now exhausted all the real cities and are bottom of the barreling it in New Mexico.  But it's good news for Megan the Simple, who's "never been out of the country!"  Oh, Megan.  Here, I got these blocks for you.  Anyway, we're staying at the picturesque Buffalo Thunder Casino, which looks like when Pier 1 went through their Southwest phase.  Also, what the fucking fuck, Buffalo Thunder?

Buffalo Thunder has obviously never been to a casino, because alcoholic beverages on the casino floor is basically the RAISON FUCKING D'ETRE of casinoing.  How the fuck you gonna keep car dealership finance managers playing $10 blackjack without watered down G&Ts?

Anyway.  Solo date with Carly, the "cruise ship singer" who is about as sexy as Dora the Explorer.  They go to some house and there's a transient camped out by the pool and instead of shooing her away with a broom they sit down to whatever the fuck this is:

I guess the T is silent probably.  There's some sage burning and mystical shit and then it's time to GET FUCKING BUCK which sucks for Carly because she's "terrified of physical intimacy."  Not a good look for the fantasy suite, Carly!  There's some Conscious Disrobing like it's My First Porn Shoot and then breathing into each other's mouths and I hope nobody got the garlic schmear for breakfast.

The Night Portion is basically just champagne in a hotel room because ABC has given up on dinner.  Oh, here's Carly's story.  Her last BF wouldn't touch her!  Wait, was he a "cruise ship singer" too?  Because I may know why, Carly.  Farmer nods a lot and thinks Carly is "cool and smart," which is how you might describe your second favorite sibling.  Then some closed mouth kissing which probably feels like a Wesson oil orgy on ecstasy to Carly.  Poor Carly.

Today's Group Date is whitewater rafting, which looks more like brownwater rafting to me.  Too bad Jillian's not here to carry the boats downriver in her teeth!  The first time water splashes into the raft Jade falls out and she has a "condition" where her "body goes into hypothermia at like normal temperatures it shouldn't."  WebMD says this is definitely CANCER, Jade, so you are fucked.

The sun has set.  Jade's "condition" has rendered her a vegetable who can only blink her lame attempts at flirting.  BUT WAIT WHO'S THIS?  Our favorite tequila receptacle, Jordan!  She's somehow sobered up but not enough to put on makeup.  She wants back in!  HELL YEAH THERE'S BOOZE LEFT.  Now J's drinking lemon water and not making any friends.  After consulting with the chix, Farmer says nope to Jordan.  You'll have to buy your own drinks now, Jordan.  Also, Jordan claims to be 24?  Not a fucking chance, sweetie.

Meanwhile Carly tells us that Sparkle Princess Britt hasn't been showering?  Maybe that explains the dreadlog on her head.

Farmer comes to wake her up at 4:30 but she's wearing full makeup despite smelling like the 24 Hour Fitness on Van Ness.  They're going hot air ballooning and Britt seems to have already forgotten her fear of heights, because sadly she doesn't freak out or have seizures.  It's beautiful and magical and Britt wants "a hundred kids" so maybe's she's a chinchilla.  Same size and build, anyway.

The Widow Kelsey has decided to tell her story!  She reveals that she was married to Sanderson Poe, which was apparently a person and not a law firm, who died of heart something, maybe "congestive heart failure"?  She can't really remember.  The whole thing seems a little made up, actually.  Maybe she's totally Gone Girling this.  Oh wait, spoiler.  She does actually say "Isn't my story amazing?" which is great because it's a good way to tell if someone is a psychopath.

Shit is getting fucking REAL now because Farmer's too emotional for the Cocktail Party and sends Chris Harrison in to tell the chix his mind is made up and we'll just go straight to the Rose Ceremony.  For some inexplicable reason, this causes The Widow Kelsey to collapse in the hallway.

NEXT WEEK: We'll find out if "congestive heart failure" is contagious.

The Bachelor: A-virgin therapy

Christ, I am so fucking sorry for that title.  That is really, really terrible.  Sorry.

Tonight's Special Guests will be a trio of Chris' unnamed sisters, who will interview some of the chixx and decide who gets a Very Special Date with the Farmer.  Hey, beats drinking warm goat milk like last week, I guess.

A bunch of the Ladies are off with C in 2 cars with C driving one and HOLY CRAP THEY'RE LETTING MEGAN THE SIMPLE DRIVE THE OTHER ONE.  I didn't know you could still get that kind of insurance, ABC!  One of the Ashleys comments "For me, if a guy is driving, it's one of the sexiest things he can do."  Whoa girl, your commute must be SEXCITING.  Wait til you see me parallel park!  Holy shit, put your clothes back on!  Anyway, this odd procession makes its way to some sad-looking 34% full reservoir somewhere in Southern Cali and it's not long before bikini parts are flying.  The Widow Kelsey is NOT AT ALL HAPPY about this date and the "muddy water hellhole" that compares unfavorably to the lakes of the Great State of Michigan!  We're in a drought, bitch!  Not our fault!

Back at the house, the Farmer Sisters have concluded their interviews - not before making Carly cry because she's never been loved, Y I K E S - and JADE has been named the new Regional Manager!  I mean, she gets to go on the date or whatever.

Let's head back to Lake Hellhole where there's going to be some camping!  Oh shit, Krazee Ashley is ready to throw down.  What she's "most scared of" is having no music so she starts chanting nonsensical syllables and doing her epileptic seizure dance.  Kraz gets a chance to sit down with C and maybe show him the other night was an aberration and she can be totally normal.

Sad trombone.  As C struggles with this admittedly layered and complex question, Kraz is onto new topics!  "Look at the moon.  It's so weird to me.  And we're sitting here.  Like that's weird to me."  It's pretty clear now that Kraz is either (1) putting on an act trying to get national attention (2) trying a series of powerful hallucinogens for the first time on network TV or (3) actually in a dissociative state and no one is helping her.  Anyway, she closes strong with "I love everything about you" and

Kaitlyn kind of nails it when she says "I don't think Ashley is here for the right reasons because I don't even know if she knows where here is."

VIRGIN TIME!!!!  She decides she's going to spill the beans to C and sneaks into his tent in the middle of the night and thank God they aren't filming in Texas or she would be all kinds of shot.  She jabbers some nonsense about not being experienced and it's like if you're gay and just tell your parents you like musical theater and think "That should about do it!"

I'm gonna really condense the Big Date with Jade because it's essentially just a half hour commercial for some new live-action Cinderella movie like GOD I am so sick of seeing stories about privileged white people overcoming their struggles.  This date mostly consists of them eating dinner alone in a huge room and then dancing alone in another huge room while a movie plays in the background.  It's like an agoraphobic's dream date,  Anyway, they both are essentially personalityless so I assume they will end up together.

Group date starts with a bunch of chicks in wedding dresses getting on a plane.  Hey, Mormons in the Sky!  Next month on FXX.  Anyway, they land at SFO and they're going to run some mud obstacle course to raise awareness for MS or something.  Obvs Jillian is SUPER INTO THIS and everyone else basically quits and Jillian beats that course like a bitch who snitched on her to the bulls.  She is awarded a night dinner which she will CRUSH TO DEATH.

This dinner takes place high atop the Fairmont here in lovely SF.  Jillian has figured out how to put on a dress.  C is babbling non sequitirs.  "Family is really important to me, where do you see yourself in five years?"  He's just reading random First Date Question Cards together. Jillian unleashes a word firehose on hapless C and literally asks him if he'd rather fuck a homeless girl or go celibate for 5 years.  DON'T ANSWER THAT.  Understandably alarmed, he boots her off the show and somehow she doesn't beat the shit out of him.  We'll miss you and your guns, J.

Cocktail Party!  It's Round 2 of Trying to Tell Him I'm a Virgin.  She gets it out and SURPRISE! He "totally respects that" which is what you say anytime you find out an adult woman is a virgin or is paralyzed and can paint with her toes or whatever.  Oh shit, Becca's a virgin too!  Everyone's a virgin now!  Baby Jesuses all around!

Here's who's staying: Baby Voice, iCarly, Megan the Simple, Still Not Sure Who Samantha Is But She Keeps Hanging Around, Virgins I & II, and SparklyBritt.  Finally, Krazee Ashley can get some help.  Also out the door are Chick With Dark Hair I've Never Seen Before and Juelia the Pool Party Ruiner.  Better days, ladies.

UPDATE!!!!!! THE PLOT THICKENS.  According to I'm sure reputable source "The Stir," Krazee Ashley isn't a hairstylist from Brooklyn AT ALL.  No, she's just a boring office drone from Atlanta.  Good luck finding a hairstylist in Brooklyn with no visible tattoos, just like I said.  Her Instagram feed looks like Normal Off the Shelf White Girl America.  So it was an act.  Lame.