Hell is about the size of Canada, a little bigger

So I was reading this interview with Ben Carson about his religious beliefs (Medium-weird, I guess? Hard for me to tell, not being in the game myself anymore) and it says:

He also does not believe in hell: “I don't believe there is a physical place where people go and are tormented. No. I don't believe that,” he says.

Huh, I guess I never thought of it like that.  Like Hell could be an ACTUAL, PHYSICAL place where people go and are tormented.  Like a huge DMV or something.

Well, WHAT IF IT IS?  What if there is a Hell, and it's an actual facility staffed by demons, I guess, where people are physically incarnated to serve out their sentences for lying or killing a rabbit or swearing or whatever?

HOW BIG IS IT?

Well, first of all, let's assume that only humans from Earth go to Hell, and that whatever aliens live on other worlds have their own Hell.  Also, we will assume animals don't go to Hell, because they're cute and Cute Things shouldn't suffer Eternal Torment, with the exception of the Olsen twins.

OK, SO, according to my sources (a shady outfit called the "Population Reference Bueau," as quoted in this BBC News post on the Internet websites), the total number of people who have ever lived is about 107 billion.  That's a lot!  For purposes of comaprison, if every person in America had 336 identical twins there would be about 107 billion Americans in this crowded and, frankly, extremely creepy, America.

Next we will assume that almost everyone who has ever lived is in Hell, because it is way, way, way too easy to fuck up, so there are like 5000 people in Heaven tops.  Everyone else is a Sinner who is in Hell.  5000 people is not statistically significant for our purposes.

I would imagine Hell is fairly densely populated, since crowded is slightly more unpleasant than roomy.  Not like Hong Kong crowded, but maybe like NYC crowded.  The population density of New York City is about 26,403 people per square mile.  (San Francisco, by comparison, is a much spaciousier 17,246 ppsm).

So NYC Hell is about 4,052,569 square miles, or about the size of Canada, plus Peru stuck awakwardly to its side.  All as densely populated as NYC.  Holy shit, that evening commute from Firey Burn And Poke Pit to your house on Gasoline Poured In My Open Wounds Lane is maybe the worst part of Hell. Unless you live next door to Hitler, who has fucking wind chimes.  What an asshole.

HELL IS FUCKING HUGE. It takes the Regional VP for Waterboarding and Telling You What a Failure You Are like 3 hours just to get from Hell Vancouver to Hell Winnipeg (or just "Winnipeg" I guess JOKING JOKING).  All the while flying over a teeming crowded cityscape.  Horrible!

On the other hand, there is a killer Hell halal cart near Hell Saskatoon.

Have a good weekend, everybody!

Hey Roman Mars, redesign this

Monotonal podcast host/busybody Roman Mars for some reason has decided that the San Francisco flag needs to be changed.  From the Chronicle yesterday:

A Bay Area radio talk-show host has launched a mission to bring down San Francisco’s official flag, calling it an eyesore and uninspiring.

Roman Mars, host of the design show “99% Invisible” on KALW, said the city’s banner, adopted 115 years ago, carries all the “big no-nos” of flag design, and he believes it’s long overdue for a makeover.

Mars said most San Franciscans aren’t even aware the city has its own flag. It’s only visible in a few select places, most notably City Hall and the Ferry Building.

“It’s ugly,” Mars said. “It’s mainly just not used. I think that’s the biggest tragedy of it.”

Fuck you, Roman Mars.  A lot of people like the San Francisco flag.  I like it a lot.  A lot of other people like it a lot.  Now I wish I had never donated to your pledge drive.  I want my $20 back.

It's got a cool phoenix.  It's got the badass motto in Spanish.  So what if you can't read it from the ther side?  Step around to the front and stop being such a fucking baby.

What's more, Roman Mars doesn't even fucking live in San Francisco.  He lives in Kensington.  I had to Google it just because I always forget where Kensington is.  It's apparently "an affluent unincorporated community and census designated place located in the East Bay, part of the San Francisco Bay Area, in Contra Costa County, California, United States."  If you want to redesign flags of cities you don't live in, Roman, why not pick San Diego or Houston or, for God's sakes, Huntington, West Virginia? (Scroll down and gag.)

Maybe it's because, as far as I can tell, Kensington doesn't have its own flag!  That explains why Roman wants to meddle in flag business in cities where he doesn't live.  Let's fix that!  Maybe if we design a flag for Kensington, Roman will just leave us alone.  God knows we have enough problems already.

My first inclination was just to go simple.

Or maybe something that reflects the local populace.

But to attract the jaundiced gaze of Roman Mars away from our beloved San Francisco and to his own municipality's flag, we had to go big.  Here it is, your new Kensington, California unincorporated community flag:

I like it!  It really says "Kensington" to me.  LOOK OVER HERE ROMAN MARS!!!  WE'RE READY FOR YOU!!!!

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.

A few words about the return of 90 Day Fiance, TV's greatest achievement

90 Day Fiance is a reality show about people who get engaged to foreigners and then the foreigners come here on a special visa and they have 90 days to either get married or GTFO.  Sounds mildly interesting, but the producers are GENIUSES at casting and finding the right couples to follow.  Beth Spotswood did an excellent job breaking down season 1 here.  Now season 2 is upon us and it looks just as good or maybe even better like that's even possible.

Just like a drug addict who sees a Ziploc baggie, I get triggered around some reality shows and start to feel that feeling like I want to recap them.  As you know, I quit doing the Bachelor/ette but I'm thinking about starting up again for this shit.  It is a target-rich environment, let me tell you.

We've got Justin, who lives in Silicon Valley and looks like a techbro but is actually an elementary school teacher and obviously has something wrong with him because he had to find a potential wife in Colombia while he was there for some sports thing and then he brings her to America and we find out it's mostly so she can clean his apartment.  So now Justin has green card AND I.R.S. problems probably.

The first season was all dudes importing foreign chicks, so it was refreshing to see Chelsea, an American girl who went to Nicaragua and hooked up with NICARAGUA'S MOST FAMOUS POP STAR, a tiny person called "Yamir" with occasionally frosted tips and a carefully considered slouch.  I hate to be a cynical bastard but Yamir is using her to get to this country and become American pop star, I promise you.

Nicaragua's biggest pop star (L) and a too-trusting American woman (R)

And then there's Brett, a pasty mid-30's who somehow knocked up a woman and has a daughter and lives with an older lesbian couple and whose best friend looks like Paula Deen.  Brett is all kinds of weird.  He went online shopping for a mate and found Daya in the Phillippines or Philippinnes or however you spell it and this is going to be supes awkward.

I haven't decided yet if I'm going to go full retard and recap every episode, Bachelor-style; it mostly depends on how much I've had to drink by Sunday night at 8, but we'll see.

(There was also a Where Are They Now show about last season and while it was a hoot to see that Mormon missionary/general schlub Alan and Brazilian knockout Kirlyam are still together and appear to be blissfully happy, their segment mostly consisted of a trip to Alan's family reunion which looked more painful than kidney stones because (1) it appeared to by dry, since they're Mormon, duh, and the only thing worse than a family reunion is a DRY family reunion, and (2) no I'm wrong, it gets worse, because it was a THEMED family reunion and the theme was REDNECK.  A redneck themed family reunion in Utah.  With Confederate flag sightings.  If that didn't send Kirlyam screaming to the TAM ticket counter, she can survive anything America can throw at her.  BONUS FACT: once she gets her green card, she can start modeling. Oh no Alan.)

What's going on with the Top 3 songs in the country right now?

Dedicated readers (or reader, I suppose) know that from time to time we like to put our ear to the railroad track of popular music and get our skull crushed and mangled by whatever the Billboard Top 3 songs in the country are right that day.  It's been a while!  Let's do it again.

The Number One song in the country right now is - and I am having trouble with superlatives here - one of the Worst Songs Ever Created by Man.  It's called "Rude" by a band called Magic! with an exclamation point so you know they're EXCITING!  It's barely even a song.  Whatever you do, don't click "play."


You did it.  You clicked "play," didn't you?  I'm sorry.  Look, I'm not going to go into a lot of detail here because Jia Tolentino at the Hairpin has already done a brilliant longform takedown of this song that is so good that you'll want to print it out and frame it.  Suffice it to say that not only is this a bad song; the creators should be put in Gitmo and terrorists should be released to make room for them.  Released to Canada, though, since Magic! with an exclamation point is from Canada.  (And the phrase "Canadian reggae fusion band" is the scariest collection of words since "Guy Fieri's donkey sauce".)

Let's put that unpleasantness behind us and move on, to Number Two: "Fancy," by Iggy Azalea featuring Charli XCX.


Iggy Azalea is inspirational proof that even a knockout blonde from Australia can somehow make it in the entertainment business.  I'm not even going to attempt to unpack the layers of cultural appropriation going on here.  Maybe I don't get it because I'm not in the "murda bizness" like Iggy Azalea.

I don't really have much else to add about this song.  I give it three "whatever"s.

Number Three is "Stay With Me" by Sam Smith.



The best of a bad lot, I guess.  I don't really know anything about Sam Smith but I gather from the 3 minutes of online research I just did that he's renowned for his incredible vocal range and whatever that's fine good for him.  The song is a little boring but I guess it's heartfelt and that's more than you can say about the other two.  So good for you, Sam Smith.

Out of curiosity, I checked to see what the Top 3 songs were 20 years ago today.  Ready for this?

1. "Stay" - Lisa Loeb
2. "I Swear" - All-4-One
3. "Fantastic Voyage" - Coolio

So that proves it!  Music really was always better 20 years ago from any given date ever in the history of time.  In 2034 we'll be pining for the emotional resonance of "Rude" by Magic!.  No, that will never happen.  That is not true.

One final note.  In looking at the Top 10 I noticed that #6 is "Maps" by Maroon 5 and at first I got really excited because I thought Maroon 5 was covering the Yeah Yeah Yeahs but disappointingly it's a completely different song.

OK, time to pick a Premier League team

Hello! Ugly American over here.  Every 4 years I watch World Cup matches and announce to (1) my now-jaded Wife, and (2) no one in particular "OK! THIS is the year I'm finally getting into soccer."  So this is it.  I'm finally getting into soccer.

Now, I could get into MS or MSA or whatever the American soccer league is called but that's both boring and not nearly pretentious enough.  No, the only answer for Coastal Elites such as myself is to get into the English Premier League, which accomplishes the twin goals of being inaccessible and foreign.  It's kind of like being a fan of New Zealand new wave or Icelandic food.

SO THAT BEING SAID now I need to pick a team.  I was vaguely following Chelsea the last time I had this impulse, because I wanted my team to always sort of be in the running, and Chelsea always seem to do OK.  I gather that they're universally loathed by supporters* of other teams and they have an owner everyone hates so I guess they're the Cowboys of soccer.  That's a strike against them.  But I like the color blue, so that's a for. Plus, look at this adorable baby soccer hoodlum hooligan tracksuit I could get for Beyonce!

[* You call soccer fans "supporters," not "fans." Also, you don't call it "soccer," you call it "football."  Also, they sell liquor in vending machines.]

Then  there's Manchester United.  They win all the time!  They won in 2013, 2011, 2009, 2008, 2007, and on and on and on.  That's boring.

Arsenal would be a good choice because I happen to know they have a violently active local fan base that gets up at 3 a.m. or something to watch matches at a bar in North Beach.  Morning drinking is always welcome but I just can't even with that.

What about Everton!  Everton is appealing because of the presence of Tim Howard, the amazing American goalkeeper who almost singlehandedly beat Belarus or Belgium or whoever.

But Everton never wins anything.  That would be no fun, to follow a team all season (or whatever they call a season) knowing you're not going to win.  (They won the FA Cup in 1995 but that's a long time ago. Also who cares.)

The Wife likes Tottenham Hotspur mostly because she likes to say "Tottenham Hotspur." She grew up in Ireland, so she was more into rugby and hurling, which I've still never figured out but involves a ball and some sticks and is apparently extremely dangerous.

Liverpool would be nice because the Beatles are from Liverpool.

There's a bunch of others but I'm already tired of this.  I'm sticking with Chelsea.  It's like being stuck in a dead-end job at a gas station: I'm not particularly in love with it, but I already have the jacket.

This US immigration application is amazing

Thanks to Internet communicant LSUcaligrl I have been alerted to the existence of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services Form I-485, "Application to Become a Real American And Quit Living in This Filthy Hellhole I Call a Country" oh wait no it's actually "Application to Register Permanent Residence or Adjust Status" but same diff really.  This is what you fill out to live here.

Obviously, we only want the Good and True to hang out with, so the questions on this form are CAREFULLY DESIGNED  to weed out Bad People and Undesirables.  How do we do that?  With the HONOR SYSTEM.

Page 3:

It's the world's worst game of "I Never"!  In the past 10 years, have you ever been a prostitute or procured anyone for prostitution?  DRINK!  Apparently, if you did a little hooking 11 years ago, we're cool, but that $50 BJ in '05 will keep you right the fuck out of USA.

Page 4 gets even weirder:

Do you intend to engage in a little espionage or maybe overthrow the government?  BZZZZT SORRY NOT THE COUNTRY FOR YOU.  There is something so wholesome and aw shucks gee whiz about these questions.  I know it's a formality and they probably use it to also charge you with perjury if you say "no" and then later espionage against the US, but I love the unspoken assumption that some chucklehead applying to live here will go "Shit, I DO intend to do a little espionaging," and check "YES."

Also, this form clearly hasn't been updated since 1955 what with the "Are you a Communist" question instead of "Are you whatever the Westboro Baptist Church people are."  Also, were you a Nazi?

Question 13: Do you plan to practice polygamy? If so, do you have contacts in the reality show production industry?

So let this be a lesson to you Communists, Nazis, weapon traffickers, people who have "called for" "severely injuring any person," labor camp servers, and people who have gotten weapons training: MOVE ALONG, NOTHING TO SEE HERE.

The Bachelor: I wish the Earth sucked me today, too!

We have finally reached the end of This Journey and what I especially like about this season besides the fact that it's FINALLY FUCKING OVER is the slow transformation of Whan from Suave Latin Lover to Mumbling Asshole It's OK to Hate.  This needs to happen more often.  I mean, all these jackoffs are about as deep as a petri dish, but it's rare that America turns on them and it's about fucking time.

OK, on to Chris Harrison and the Live Studio Audience with a M/F ratio typically found only in gynecologist waiting rooms.  CH promises us that this will be "one of the most dramatic and surprising finales" but you say that every time and IT NEVER COMES TRUE.  "Romeo and Juliet" had a dramatic and surprising finale.  The Bachelor just dies of emphysema alone in a hospital bed.

WE ARE DOWN TO THE LAST TWO CONTESTANTS.

Oh wait, my mistake.  Those are somebody else.  Anyway, Whan's got the whole fam here in St. Lucia, including brother Rodrigo (hipster 'stache, bad skin) and cousin Rodolfo (clothing by GapKids) and Smoking Dad, who the producers have taken the cigarettes away from for this episode.  Hey, has anyone ever heard Whan speak English to Camilla?  Seems like they're on a Spanish-only basis.  Anyway, here comes Clare!  She interviews with various members of Whan's family and they all dis him!  Good for them.  Mom says he's "heeperactive" and "so energy."  Wait, what?  Not on this show.  Rodolfo wants to know if she'll "run away at the first sign of trouble."  I'm not sure if he's blowing up JP or Baby Mama.  Meanwhile, Dad's getting a little handsy!

IF TINGS DON'T WORK OUT WIT HEEPERACTIVE, LET ME GIVE JOO MY NAHMBER.

Clare is shuffled offscreen and Rootsy arrives with a dress showing off her Twitter logo tattoo.  Smoking Dad's not so into her!  Meanwhile, Mom paints a grim picture of her joyless future with Whan - she'll make him breakfast, then he'll be "watching TV, with you, if you are there."  THIS IS AWESOME.  Mom asks if Whan is the kind of guy she wants and then Mom's all "You sure?"  His family is fucking throwing him under the bus!  Because hey, who knows you're a total dickbag better than your own family! IT KEEPS GOING!  Rodolfo wants to know "how much fighting you can take."  Like, you know a slap isn't a punch, right?  You can get knocked around a little and not go whining to the cops, right, sweetie?

Back in the studio, CH wants to hear from "Bachelor Nation."  Haha, one chick says "this whole thing is going south."  Here's Sean and Catherine from two seasons ago.  Oh man, ABC slathered too much fake eyelashes on Catherine and she has to blink like a movie projector.  Surprisingly, they have nothing to add.

Last date with Clare.  Finally getting some helicopters up in this bitch.  We got some drama right off the bat!  Clare tells us in her voiceover that when the mics were off, Whan whispered something to her and now she's devastated!  It's "something no woman wants to hear" and "some sexual thing I don't want to repeat"!  Oh shit Whan, save the Japanese schoolgirl thing for the honeymoon!  Wait, back at the hotel, she says it was because he said he didn't know her at all?  That's not sexual!  BORING.  There's a lot of blah blah blah about nothing and I started checking my phone so who knows.

Then we got a last Boat Date with Rootsy, where Whan describes his ideal future: watching sports on TV by himself!  I guess Mom was spot-on with that shit.  Back at her hotel room that night, Rootsy is wearing a tablecloth, for some reason, and freaking out because he won't say he loves her.  I think that's in the contract but whatever.  She gives him a photo in a Walgreens frame and a card that says "I love you" and then STARES AT HIM INTENTLY like the POWER OF HER GAZE can force him to say it but he won't and now Rootsy is mad mad mad.

Let's wrap this shitshow up and hit the bar.  Everyone's arriving by boat like it's D-Day but for marriage.  Clare comes ashore in a blue chiffon curtain and some costume jewelry.  She's on with a bunch of stuff about how great he is and then he's all "I wish the Earth sucked me today" which I don't know but can't be good.  He dumps her and instead of the usual blubbering GIRLFRIEND GETS PISSED.  " I would never want my children having a father like you" and RIGHT ON CLARE.  Humorously, Whan says "I'm glad I didn't pick her."  What, and pass up a life watching TV in Sacramento?  ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH?

Here comes Rootsy.  Girlfriend is ready to get proposed to.  Whan's like "I gotta ring here in my pocket" but you will not be saying hello to my little friend.  I'm not even sure what happened but I'm pretty sure he didn't propose to her but she didn't break down crying so I don't know.  Who gives a shit anyway.  This finale was about as surprising and dramatic as an episode of This Old House.  TK out.

The Bachelor: Don't touch Mama

It's Hometowns Week!  What does that mean to you?  Nothing hopefully.  What it means to me is that I have to watch this fucking show 2 nights in a row.  See you in hell, ABC.

Oh great, we're starting in Kansas City.  I have beef with Kansas City, so to speak.  Anyway, that's where Rootsy's from.  Figures.  They do the usual park meetup and then go get some BBQ and then go to an empty bar and ride a mechanical bull.  It's like Urban Cowboy but with less Scott Glenn and more peroxide and vapidness.  Over to Rootsy's house, where everyone is so scrubbed and white and wholesome that the one brother with a neatly trimmed beard is so outré by comparison that he might as well be a heroin addict public masturbator.  Rootsy's a Rich and her house is one of those usual suburban nightmares where it looks like Pier One threw up on Country Living.  They have dinner next to a Viking Great Hall fireplace and they're all "whatever decision is fine" and nothing interesting happens except Roots tells Dad that being a Suddenly Mom at 26 will be no problem because she's been shown a lot of love!  HO HO HO.  If that made sense, beagle puppies could operate an MRI machine.

Act II: Atlanta.  Andi.  Her hair is two different colors now!  The Wife says, mysteriously, that this is due to "Ombre," which I gather is a contagious disease of some kind that gives you awful looking two-tone hair.  Oh, good, they're off to the shooting range.  Welcome to Stereotype America, Whan.  Andi describes herself as "salivating" over the prospect of popping off a few rounds and hey, whatever.  Whan is TERRIBLE at guns.  He finally hits the fucking target after like 30 tries.  If there is a poor charging at you and you need to Stand Your Ground, Whan is not the one you want holding the AR-15.

Andi's family is even more white and scrubbed than Rootsy's.  Dad LITERALLY looks like a bullet and there are probably not a lot of Obama voters in this household.  The producers are trying to make it look like Dad is some kind of maniacally confrontational asshole but he's actually just NORMAL in that he's somewhat suspicious of the idea of his daughter marrying some dude she's been on ONE date with.  Meanwhile, Mom is MILFing on Whan and touching his arm and asking him to dance and Andi literally throws herself between them like Jesus Mom you're embarrassing me please stop touching the foreigner.

Next we travel to Sarasota Florida and during the Establishing Shots they show the skyline and beach and WHOA WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS THING

In case you can't tell, that's not people recreating the famous picture, it's some kind of nightmarish public art thing that looks like it's about 40 feet tall and hopefully will one day come to life and trample the hapless citizenry.

(Oh God, it's 25 feet tall and somebody paid half a million dollars for it.)

Anyway, back to our regular horrifying thing.  Mom Renee is here.  "I'm going to literally eat my son when I see him" she says.  Your cannibal cult activities will not play here Renee!  Admittedly, her reunion with the kid is pretty cute, despite her failure to literally eat him.  They're at his little league game, and son Ben reports that he plays "shortstop, pitcher and catcher mostly" and JESUS CHRIST let's get this team some more personnel because Ben is stretched a little thin.  Renee's family seems OK.  Mom is clearly one of those ice-clinking-in-the-cocktail-tumbler-at-3-pm types and they're all fine and nothing happens.

Our last stop is beautiful Sacramento, the Kansas City of California.  Here's Krazy Klare and Whan says "I can't wait to see why you are the way you are."  ME TOO WHAN.  There's a strange interlude with something about dead Dad and then we're throwing rocks at the hapless geese in the pond and then off to meet the fam. HOLY SHIT IT'S A TON OF CHICKS.  Luckily they're all wearing different pastel colored shirts so we can tell them apart.  Sister # Whatever says "My dad was the ultimate Southern gentleman and Juan Pablo seems that way to me."  Yeah, if you KEEP GOING FARTHER AND FARTHER SOUTH.  Sister Green Shirt is officially here to piss on Clare's parade.  She thinks Clare is "manipulating Mama" who is apparently a mute and then hides in the bushes to make sure nobody talks to Mama?  Or something?  SGS makes Clare look like a Zen master.  Whan wants to talk to Mama and when SGS tries to body check him he uses the soothing tones you would use to calm a frightened animal or a schizophrenic and this seems to work.  Oh, Mama speaks Spanish!  Perfect, they can discuss how Venezuela is caliente, no I didn't make that up.  Mama actually has more sense than the rest of them combined.  Clare and Whan top it off with a makeout sesh that suggests she might violate the No More Fucking rule right there in the driveway.

OK, let's shoot this horse in the head.  We're in Miami and Whan reads a script about everyone's "amazing family" and whatnot.  First Rootsy then Krazy Klare and then since we've already seen 10,000 promos for tomorrow, we know it's Andi and not Mom.  Bad choice dude, now who's gonna therapy the other chicks when you don't have time?  Renee is on her way out and says "There are actually men exist like him" which yeah, I guess so.

Tune in tomorrow for some shocking something blah blah blah shoot me.

What I'm looking for

Grenoble - Was on House Hunters International last night; wanted to look up where in France it was

423-648-4908 - Called our home phone; didn't recognize number, so Googled it; appears to be a survey of some kind?

Pacsun - You know, the woman who bought the dirty t-shirts; wanted to see the shirts

Shanghai Tunnel - Didn't understand the reference in this Generic tweet; still don't, really

CHP accident - Caught the tail end of the story on the news, wanted to know more.  Tragic.

Infant swim seat - We're going to Arizona in a few weeks.  Staying at a place with a pool.  Into the water, Beyonce!

Bill Nye - Had some dustup with some idiot Congressperson I wanted to read about.

QR code reader - I needed a QR code reader

True Detective - Needed my TD info; there is so much TD info

Katie Lee dating - I actually just entered "Katie Lee" because I saw her on some cooking show and she looked familiar; turns out it's the same Katie Lee who used to be married to Billy Joel and hosted the first season of Top Chef.  Google autofilled "dating," as it do.  (She was dating Will Arnett, BTW)

the kitchen food network - The aforementioned Katie is on the Food Network show "The Kitchen."  As far as I know, there is no network called "The Kitchen Food Network" but if you want to start it, let's do it.

Turley zinfandel - Had it with dinner at The Cavalier; was delicious; wanted to see what the markup was.  (Restaurant: $80; retail: $29. Not TOO bad.)

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! It's Name Change Friday!

It's been a while, huh?  Let's see who's changing up.  Nothing says love like a new handle!

Our first Name Changer comes from the Humboldt County Classified Post and I mostly love it because it looks like the HCCP is really going for that gold rush look, even online!

Doesn't that look totally 1849?  Anyway, it appears that Michael Donald Castillo is getting back to his roots and going with the much spicier Miguel Donaldo Castillo.  Ole, Miguel!  I heartily approve.  Why be Michael Donald when you can be Miguel Donaldo?  Michael Donald works the loading dock at the Lucky.  Miguel Donaldo is a mysterious stranger with a cape and an air of danger!  Smart move.

This next one is kind of hard to read, but bear with me because it's SO WORTH IT. I'm not sure what paper it came out of, but the name change is in Butte County, so who knows what the fuck they're up to up there.

I don't know if you can read it, but the present name is "Margaret Dolores (Delores) O'Donnell" and the proposed new name is "Lady Margaret Watts Schneider Vallier Marks O'Donnell."  LADY MARGARET!  Swoon.  This is somebody who is doing it right.  Lady Margaret is not fucking around.

Our last changer is also a bit of a doozy.  It's out of LA.

New Name: Black Kennedy Lincoln.  Drops mic.

Have a great weekend, everybody!  Especially you, Lady Margaret.

The Bachelor: New Zealand: Almost As Beautiful As Ohio

It appears that we are off to New Zealand and seaplaning around which gives Whan the chance to say "beautiful" about 30 times and also that he's ready to "take things to the next level" so he's doing a good job learning his meaningless English sayings.  Meanwhile, the chix are busy checking out the Huka Lodge - "INFINITY EDGE POOOOOOOOOOOOL!!!!!" - and Clare, that little minx, admits "Last week in Vietnam everything kind of blew up in my face."  THAT'S WHAT CHARLIE SAYS TOO CLARE.  

One on Whan with Andi.  They do some river speedboating and then jump in and Andi, congrats, you are the first chick in Bachelor history to wear a one-piece. This frolic looks fucking awful, though, because it appears to be freezing and instead of tropical yachting like we usually get instead we're fighting for survival in some kind of jungle rock formation.

This goes on for quite a while - YAWN - and then we pop out in some waterfall thing or whatever and the No Makeout Rule is obvi suspended again.  

Outdoor Dinner by some giant geyser.  They're trying to get down on some lamb kebabs when the damn thing goes off and GREAT PLANNING ABC but I guess it's supposed to represent all the sublimated sexual desire on this show.  When did I start talking like a grad student.  Andi obviously has no chance but she gets the Roaring Geyser of Juan Pablo's Love Rose.  How does Andi feel?  "It's so ironic to be standing next to a geyser because our chemistry is bursting through as well."  THAT'S NOT WHAT IRONY MEANS ANDI.

"Our chemistry is bursting through."  Christ.

Group date in Rotorua, which is of course beautiful and whatever but maybe not conducive to having a picnic in what appears to be 75 mph winds.  Oh, this is fantastic: Rotorua reminds Chelsie of Ohio "except we don't have hills."  Ohio, New Zealand - people are always getting them confused!  Except for the tiny detail that OHIO DOESN'T RESEMBLE NEW ZEALAND IN ANY POSSIBLE WAY except they both exist on Earth and have soil and trees.  Then everybody gets into swimsuits and it's INTO THE GIANT PLASTIC HAMSTER BALLS which is kind of a perfect metaphor for this show.  

For the Night Portion we are in some kind of Lord of the Rings theme park.  You knew the LOTR stuff was lurking offstage just waiting for its moment.  Either NZ has some kind of natural peroxiding effect or Rootsy's had some work done up top.  Meanwhile Whan muddles through some Feelings Talk with some chicks and then does his weird Tongue Insertion Kissing with Rootsy.  Seriousleen manages to work in that this is "inorganic" again and Whan says not to question herself and just enjoy dis and I think that's what cult leaders say.  She gets the Organic Rose and then Whan cuts loose NBA Player Whelping Delivery Vehicle Cassandra because I guess he's not enjoying dis.  She gets put in the Crying Range Rover and says she's been "waiting so long for something special" and YOU ARE 22 YEARS OLD.  I've waited longer for shit on backorder from Amazon.  Whan returns to the Shire alone with his tiny Head Umbrella.  

Now Professional Temptress Clare gets a second Solo Date. She's trying to get him to apologize for banging her or something, I'm not sure.  He opines that if he somehow resisted her devilish advances, "she'd be devastated right now." OH HO HO HO WHAN.  Is that how it is? THIS JUST IN: Professional Athlete Is Kind of a Tool.  Film at 11.  Anyway, Nighttime Snax at the Hilton.  Clare seems to be under the impression that Whan "apologized" for something but I didn't hear it.  She snags the Managed Not To Fuck On the Second Date Rose.

The Cocktail Party this week is a somewhat somber affair.  Maybe everyone realized that Life is a Meaningless Void and our Lives are Empty and Dark, or maybe we're out of champagne.  Rootsy says she wants a "partner" and "someone to share all the things life has to offer" and maybe some other things she copied from every single Match.com profile ever. DO YOU WANT A PARTNER IN CRIME TOO ROOTSY?  ENJOY CANDELIGHT DINNERS?  Oh no, here comes Kat with some downer shit about Drunk Dad.  PULL UP KAT PULL UP.  

Let's hand out the roses.  Rootsy and Mom Renee are in.  It's down to OMGCHELSIE and DownerKat.  

OUT: Baggage Claim.  I told you to wait until later with the Drunk Dad stuff.  I'm kind of bummed because I wanted to meet Dad on the hometowns, maybe get some shots.  Anyway, she's off in the Crying Limo and she reveals why she can't hold on to a guy: she's too great!  THAT'S MY PROBLEM TOO, KAT!  Let's you and me and Drunk Dad hit the bar.  

(The outtakes they play under the final credits this week features Whan and the girls THROWING SHEEP FECES AT EACH OTHER.  I was wrong; the hamster balls were NOT the best metaphor for this show this week.)

The Bachelor: Don't Fuck on the First Date

Here we are in Vietnam and I can’t even make any Vietnam War jokes because I already did that once and also because it has now been longer since the Vietnam War ended than it was between World War II and the 80's and no one on this show or probably reading this was even alive when the Vietnam War happened.  Anyway, there was an unpopular war in Vietnam a long time ago and then a lot of people won Oscars as a result.

OK, back to the show.  Mom Renee gets the first One-on-Whan™ and for some reason this news makes her “palms hurt.”  Hmmm, our first recorded case of Bachelor Stigmata.  Hail Renee Full of Hair Product Blessed Art Thou Above All Soccer Moms.  Their date is in the charming Vietnamese town of Hoi An and Whan “can’t wait to make her enjoy the day.”  FUCKING SOAK UP THE ATMOSPHERE BITCH. DO WHAT I SAY.  DO IT NOW.  Oh, check it out!  Vietnamese dogs are super cute!

So they stop by some fabric shop or something to get a dress made for her I guess?  Mom thinks this is “fascinating” and “amazing” but I would describe it more as “boring” or “really boring” or “still boring.”  There’s the usual walking around and buying a racist coolie hat for Mom’s kid.  For the Night Segment, Mom is wearing her new dress to Indoor Dinner.  Blah blah blah she got married young and they grew apart.  Whan thinks her eyes are “full of life” which I guess is good and he gives her a rose and then they’re out lighting candles in Chinese takeout containers and putting them in the water and making a wish.  My wish would be “Please don’t let this fucking thing drift under this flimsy wooden pier and burn us all to death.”

I realize this is a terrible picture.

Group Date wherein Whan says we are going to do “very traditional Vietnamese –” and here he pauses – “Things.”  Yes, things! This means getting in some wooden bowls and paddling around which is mostly an excuse to make out with Clare.  Then it’s off to the community gardens to PICK SOME PRODUCE! Hopefully they’re making 60 cents an hour and getting doused with carcinogenic pesticide for the real immersion experience.  Anyway, after dinner (Vietnamese food, I’m guessing), there’s supposed to be a cocktail party but it’s mostly just Whan hanging out in his hot tub with Clare.  Once again, his “No Kissing” policy appears to be somewhat flexible, because he and Clare and slobbering into each other’s mouths like Saint Bernards.  Back with the chicks, Seriousleen, as usual, is being kind of a downer and wants him to see her “as a panda in a room full of brown bears.”  OK then.  Clare ends up with the rose and then shows up at his room in the middle of the night and I think they’re hinting that they hit it or something.  God, you do not want to knock Clare up.  Hairstylist.  Sacramento.  I don’t think I need to say anything else.

Rootsy One on One!  I think she got a Vietnamese touchup because the roots actually don’t look as aggressively black.  Anyway, this is going to be one of those Adventure Dates where we rappel down into a cave that is literally named “Hell.”  That’s some dynamic branding!  As with all Adventure Dates that you’re not personally on, it’s boring.  We’re back topside for Night Portion and the true Hell here is what Vietnam is doing to Rootsy’s hair.  She’s on and on about pediatric nursing which is actually kind of a downer tbh.  She gets the rose and some face kissing and is “electrified” like she “stuck her finger in a light socket” and I’m not sure I want her pediatric nursing my kid.

The ladies arrive for the Cocktail Party carefully arranged on a boat.  There is shocking news!  We are cutting 3 tonight.  That is not good for Maybe Black Danielle, who has gotten less screen time than Anonymous Vietnamese Produce Family.  Whan gets busy making out with Mom and his No Kissing Rules are now beyond comprehension.  Oh, a sit-down with Clare! He says “Maybe it wasn’t right, but what happened happened.”  I guess they did it!  He doesn't want his daughter to know.  Gee, maybe don’t tell her then?  C is now crying and Whan’s talking her down like he does every episode.  This is boring.

Rose Cer.  Whan starts by gazing meaningfully at his Serial Killer Shrine of Ladies.

THREE MUST DIE TONIGHT the voice in his head says.  Who’s in?  Seriousleen, NBA Progeny Bearer…..

LAZY EYE REPORT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Only a little sleepy.

OK, back to it.  ChelsieWOOOOO, Kat, Andi Who Needs to Stop Bitching All The Time.

ADIOS Lazy Eyes, Alison (I think?) and Maybe Black Danielle.  No surprises there.  Hopefully the next episode is better because this one failed to move me.

The Bachelor: C'mon, kids! Let's go to the KOREAN FURNITURE MUSEUM!!!!

LET US MARCH BRAVELY INTO BRIGHT FUTURE WITH DEAR LEADER Whan who is telling Camilla that she is his “everything” but whoops Daddys gotta go on the road for a while so let me amend that to you are my “something.”  One of my things.  Meanwhile CH shows up at Girlhaus to announce that we are GOING TO WORKERS PARADISE OF NORTH KOREA where we will eat wire and construct a yurt from yak dung.  Oh no wait I misheard it’s South Korea.  OK then.  Clare chirps “I don’t even have a kimono!”  That’s OK Clare.  You have time to learn Chinese or Bolivian or whatever they speak there.

Our first group date is an introduction to the exciting world of K-Pop, which, according to Whan is “taking over America!”  I guess.  Apparently the chix are going to do a dance number with “21” (EDIT: it's apparently "2NE1," like what the fuck is that?), a musical or something group that is a living combination of anime and meth.  Kat, who has been “dancing her whole life!” is generally bouncing around like she’s electrified but Rootsy can’t dance so she is SO MAD.  It doesn’t help that they’ve got her dressed up like a defective mannequin from the Juniors section at Sears in 1988.

Anyway, 2NE1 is so popular that they perform at a mall like a 5th-place American Idol finisher!  Even the NBA Dancer/Trey Mom is phoning it in but Kat is gyrating like Kim Jong Whatever has a dog pointed at her.  The whole thing is awful, of course.

Apparently every rooftop pool, restaurant, bar, lounge, and more interesting museum is taken because the Night Portion finds us at the Korean Furniture Museum.  Not a joke.  Can you imagine the kids who get taken to the Korean Furniture Museum?  Poor bastards.  Anyway, everyone sits on some Korean Furniture and says “Chewbacca!” which I guess is Korean for “This sucks!”  Uh-oh, Kat’s dad was a “severe alcoholic” and that’s why she moved to Arizona?  Makes as much sense as any other reason to move to Arizona, I guess.  Oh boy now everyone’s down on Rootsy.  She’s too “negative.”  COME SIT BY ME SWEETIE.  Anyway, that shit moves units because she gets the rose.

One on Whan ™ Date with Seriousleen, who has the emotional response of a coma patient but hopefully we’ll have fun.  They wander through the oblig outdoor market and sample some Korean food, which appears to be largely pig noses and bright red things.  Later, Whan pressures her into doing some singing and she makes SUCH A BIG DEAL ABOUT IT you know how all performers are DYING to do their little act but they all have to go “OH NO NO I COULDN’T PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME.”  She sings like 3 notes!  BIG FUCKING DEAL.  Then they make out.  Seriousleen will input this valuable information into her data banks.  At the Outdoor Dinner™ Seriousleen has activated her Humanity Chip and there’s something about whether Whan wants more kids or something that I think is supposed to be dramatic but I didn’t follow and she gets a rose.  BLEEP BLOOP.

GROUP DATE.  We’re going to “explore Seoul” which means going to a Karaoke parlor that’s decorated like Manga Barbie’s Dream House.  Then off to Dr. Fish Zone.

Sadly, this is not where Dr. Fish will perform amateur plastic surgery, but instead where REAL FISH EAT DEAD SKIN OFF THEIR FEET.  So far Korea is grossing me out.  Then it’s back to the street food where Clare makes a big show of refusing to eat octopus like of all the disgusting shit they probably have to eat I bet that’s the mildest.  It’s basically calamari.  I mean, if you want to make a stink about it turn down the otter penis or human eyeballs, but octopus?

Group Outdoor Dinner somewhere.  Wait, did Andi just call him “Duwan Pablo”?  I think that’s a rapper, sweets.  Hey, for some reason Whan has now decided that he can no longer kiss anyone because sometimes-interesting daughter Camilla is watching or something.  I don’t get it.

LAZY EYES UPDATE!!!!

Partially to moderately sleepy.

Oh wait, now he’s kissing Clare? So I guess his no-kissing rule was just for brunettes.  For some reason Andi gets the rose.  Then we’re off to some Korean temple that has a pretty loose BYOB policy and everyone’s mad because Rootsy – who is wearing a purple napkin as a dress – is violating some code by hanging with Whan even though she has a rose.  Whatever.

Rose Cer, finally.  “I love you,” says Whan, to no one in particular.  IN: Mom Renee, ChelsieWOOO, Lazy Eyes, Maybe Black Danielle, NBA Dancer/Neon Wrap Wearer, Really Who the Fuck Is Alison, Sacto Clare, and Kat Who Is Looking Slightly Rough.  Adios to Elise From "Forty Fort" and Lauren S.  Deadweight, both of them.  Good riddance.

The Bachelor: This Just In: Soccer Still Boring

Sorry this is so late.  I was busy!  I had a lot on my plate.  It was misplaced.  This was someone else's job.  It was overtaken by events.  I'll do better next time.

Let us begin at the Girlhaus, where - wait, did Rootsy get her roots adjusted?  It looks like it!  Doglvr wants a one on one date.  Maybe Patches is free!  Oh, with Whan.  Anyway, Chris Harrison shows up for the preflight briefing and it appears the first date tonight will be with the oddly lupine Cassandra!  Hey, ever wonder when Cassandra's last first date was?  Soon we will find out.  OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

Now we are off to Long Beach where Whan is playing with little Camilla and LONG BEACH, REALLY? What, was San Pedro busy? Geez, ABC.  Here comes C, who "hasn't had a first date since [she] was 18 years old" and apparently managed to get knocked up on that one so LOOK OUT WHAN.  Whan puts her in some buggy car thing and they drive into the water and both drown.  I WISH.  No, they float.  It's some kind of car-boat thing.  They drive around in the water and C squeals like a piglet.  Yacht swimming making out blah blah blah you've seen all this before.  Then back to the Bachelor house to MAKE MORE BABIES I guess and C can't stop saying how it's her first date in 3 years.  Jesus Christ lady, we get it already.  She's sweet but doesn't seem like the sharpest tack in the corkboard.  Let's move on to Looking at Kid Pix.  THIS JUST IN: "Trey" is Perez Hilton.

Also, watching other people look at baby pictures is more boring than watching a calculus lecture wrapped in paint drying.  She gets the Please Shut Up About Your First Date in 3 Years Rose.

Then we have a Group Soccer Date at, I shit you not, StubHub Stadium or whatever.  I guess they all had to pay 3 times over face to get in!  I'm kidding, StubHub, I love you.  PLEASE DON'T SHUT ME OUT.  Daddy needs Giants tickets.  Anyway, the chix all play soccer and it's about as interesting as any soccer game which is to say it's boring as fuck.  The only good thing is they appear to be playing without goalies which is actually the best innovation in soccer since hooligans.  Post, there's no rooftop pool? Fuck, ABC.  Between this and Long Beach, you are really cheaping out this episode.  No, nighttime portion is still at StubHub Stadium.  OK, Rootsy gets a hug, makeout with Andi, then The Sharleen takes over.  She's thinking about how "organic" it feels.  Whan clearly doesn't know what "organic" means.  Then they have a VERY WEIRD KISS that looks like he's trying to insert an object into her mouth unsuccessfully.

Whatever.  Free Spirit manages to keep her clothes on, somehow, and Rootsy gets the rose.

One on one date with Chelsie.  Whan plays her some Venezuelan music in the car and she White Girl car dances and they hit up the Venezuelan restaurant for some arepas and tequeno and paco de catillo and maserati or something.  You know what's good after a big meal of unfamiliar cuisine?  TANDEM BUNGEE JUMPING!  Especially when it's conducted by a Guy Fieri impersonator in a visor.  There is an ENDLESS sequence where Chel is wavering about whether to do it and JUST FUCKING JUMP ALREADY OK whew it's over.  

Standard Outdoor Dinner at City Hall.  Chel comes from a family of dentists and is the "black sheep" for becoming a teacher instead.  Holy fuck, if that's black sheep status in her family you'd be the Black 13th Incarnation of the Demon Azeroth for changing the channel when America's Funniest Videos is on.  She gets a rose, of course, and then it's the usual Concert by Mediocre Faux Country Act Who Stole the Guitar Riff in His Song From "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day.  Yuck.

Dawn Breaks at Girlhaus.  Whan arrives to make "Venezuelan breakfast," which I thought was cocaine and a chelada but is apparently some kind of pancake thing.  Whan think "Clare look reely good in piyamas" which I guess so.  Hey, wanna get crazy?  Instead of a cocktail party, let's have a POOL PARTY!  Disrupt the Bachelor!  Fuck.  Anyway, The Sharleen doesn't feel a connection because, you know, SHE'S NORMAL.  Oh, now Clare is freaking out.  Maybe she's normal too!  No, no she is not.  Anyway, Whan does his usual gig and talks everyone down.  He spends a lot of time doing this, actually.

Let's get to the Rose Cer and get the fuck out of Dodge.  Hey, Doglvr's lazy eye is especially sleepy today!

PATIENCE, MY SWEET.  SOON WE WILL SLEEP.  

OK, who's in.  Andy, Mom, Doglvr, Seriousleen, Elisa, Kat, Who the Fuck Is Alison, Insecure Clare, Who the Fuck Is Lauren, and Maybe Black Danielle.  We must bid farewell to Free Spirit and Some Blonde Chick Named Christy who I didn't even know was on this show.  "Every person deserves love," Free Spirit says.  Pack another bowl, baby.  We're moving on.

The Bachelor: No Me Gusta or Something Something Spanish Whatever

The dream of America is real, a powerful idea that we can all become our finest selves, create our own identities, become who we were meant to be.  In Juan Pablo's case, the dream is to run shirtless on the beach in Miami and do "consulting for sports and entertainment" which is what coke dealers say they do.  HELLO EVERYBODY IT'S BACHELOR AGAIN.

Let's meet Whan.  Oh, he has a daughter, Camilla Valentina who was born on Valentine's Day and is admittedly pretty cute.  See what having a daughter did to me?  Now I'm soft.  ANYWAY Mrs. Camilla is obvi out of the picture because Whan is here to meet Camilla's New Mommy and also he's brought along his whole family to take reality show backdrop jobs away from Real Americans.  Oh look, here comes Big Dumb Sean to drop some knowledge.  Whan's worried because he "can't remember names."  Just call them all "Kelsey" or "Kristen" and you'll be fine.  Sean doesn't really have any useful advice but there was something about a skunk and 2 a.m. in Burbank that was probably more exciting than it sounded.

OK here's Chris Harrison.  "Juan Pablo fever has reached epidemic proportions," he says.  It's like Avian Flu but more waxed!  Let's see some chix in their native environments.  Renee looks good in a bikini and has an 8-year-old son who is "very athletic" and plays chess.  He could be a good mentor for Sean, actually!  Amy is a "massage therapist" in LA and she is really, really, really into massage therapy.

I predict a bright future in the Massage Therapy industry for Amy.  Nikki is a pediatric nurse who could use a doctor for her terrible roots and her anorexia.  Lauren, 35 but claiming 25, got dumped at some point and has more baggage than a Japanese tourist at a Louis Vuitton store.  Lacy comes from a family with 9 special needs kids and opened her own elderly care home at 20 and wants to find her own special someone to feed Jell-O to.  Claire actually admits to being 32 but could pass for 31 easily.  Her Dad had brain cancer and he made a DVD for her future husband to watch.  Too bad it's just random Animaniacs episodes!

L I M O  T I M E !!!!  CH is about to blow our minds because there are 27 chicks this time!  No, 50!  No,100!  No, a million chicks!  Everyone's a winner!  Oh, no, it's just 27, calm down.  Here they come.  Amy L. is a "local news reporter" who is the type you might recognize from such stories as Opening Of The Northridge Mall or Rain Wettens Local Roadways.  Christine is a "police support specialist," whatever that means.  Hold on, did she just say "I know your daughter is a huge partier" so that's why I brought her this glow stick?  Oh, "huge part of your life," got it.  This season's Black Chick is Chantel, who thinks people will have trouble pronouncing "Chantel" for some reason.  Lucy's job is listed as "Free Spirit" and you can tell she's a Free Spirit because she's wearing some kind of bouquet headdress and no shoes, gross.  Danielle is ambiguously ethnic so we might have 1.5 black chicks this season.  Then some girl rides up on a bicycle slash piano like it's Burning Man.  The fuck.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE.  Claire is a hairstylist from Sacramento who shows up, for some reason, with a fake pregnancy bulge because you know being visibly pregnant with someone else's child is the best way to land a mate.  Maggie the Personal Banker has a gift for Whan!  It's a "fishin hook."  OK then.  Kelly's job is "Dog Lover" which might be a job in Georgia but is totally illegal in California.  Alexis turns on the Spanish.  PREDICTION: We are going to hear a lot of bad Spanish this season.  El espanol es muy malo.  Muy muy malo.

OK so Whan wades into the Chickicane and let's get this party started.  Hey look a photobooth.  Nothing says fun like forced frivolity.  Time to chat up some ladies.  The Free Spirit has dead eyes and might be the kind of girl who drives around the country killing 7-Eleven clerks.

You know who else was a "free spirit"? HITLER.

Oh good, Whan has a First Impression Rose to give out.  "It's not just a rose," says Fishin Hook.  "It's my future."  Jesus Christ, Hook, slow the fuck down.  Actually it is just a rose.  Personal Banking is your future.  Do you have goals? Visualize your goals.  You are in control.  Awkward talk with Elise!  Her Mom just passed away.  WAY TO HARSH OUR MELLOW ELISE.  Geez, why you gotta bring the stench of death into the proceedings?  Lauren35 is STILL fucking broken up about being left at the altar.  Lauren. Honey. Therapy FIRST, then National TV.  TFTNT, I always say.  Easy to remember!  LEARN IT LAUREN35.  Anyway, good way to break the ice with JP.  I'M SUPER GOOD AT GETTING DUMPED.  PLEASE HOLD ME.  

Whan seems to like the Opera Singer who lives in Germany.  Oddly, she seems normal.  He proffers the First Impression Rose and she's like what the fuh!  DAMMIT GIRL DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW THIS WORKS.  Listen bitch do you want to be on TV or not.  Finally she caves and takes it.  They always take it.

Our first Rose Ceremony!  This is a Special Time for us, you guys.  I love being on The Journey again.  Jesus what am I saying I'm scaring myself now.  OK.  OK.  Here are my favorite contestants so far.

Look at the way she's looking at us.  You know she wants it.  She wouldn't wear that jaunty scarf if she didn't want it.  OK, here come the roses.  Renee, Claire, Andi, Chantel, the Dog, the other Possibly Black chick, some other girl, Free Spirit Highway Killer, Nelly Furtado, another blonde chick, another blonde chick, whatever.  Fishin Hook and Lauren35 both get cut.  That's too bad.  Oh, and Massage Chick.  Guess it's back to outcalls for her.

COMING UP THIS SEASON everything will be a lot like every other season.

Why we love Love/Hate

Remember when we were talking about what show we could watch next now that Breaking Bad is over? Well, I hope you've got a Netflix account and no plans this weekend, because once I tell you about this show you're going to need plenty of free time.

It's called "Love/Hate" and originally aired on Ireland's RTE.  Here's a trailer:


As one can tell, it's basically the story of, as the trailer puts it, a "drugs gang."  But that's like saying Mad Men is the story of an advertising agency.  It's also about the complicated personal lives of the various people involved.  It's completely compelling and addictive.

I do have one word of advice for My Fellow Americans: use the Netflix feature to TURN ON CLOSED CAPTIONING.  As you may or may not know, The Wife is from Ireland originally and unsurprisingly has no problem following what's going on but until we turned on the captions I had to pause it every few minutes and ask for a recap.  For whatever reason, I think Irish accents - and particularly the kind of accent the people in this show have - are far more difficult for Americans than your off-the-shelf Downton Abbey British.

[DIGRESSION ONE: The last time we were in Ireland, I noticed that I could understand the accent of one guy in particular better than anyone else we were hanging around with.  Turns out this guy was from Northern Ireland, and all the other Irish had a hard time understanding him. Language!]

Like any good drugs gang show, L/H is spectacularly violent, just as a heads-up.  People are constantly getting shot and beaten up and any other band thing you can think of that people can do to each other.

[DIGRESSION TWO: We haven't gotten to Season 4 yet, but a cat gets shot in one of the episodes.  This cat shooting was apparently so upsetting to the Irish populace that the cat had to go on the Late Late Show so everybody could see that the cat - Cleo, as it turns out - was OK.  Here's a clip:]


I'm trying to figure out what makes it so addictive.  Probably a lot of the same things that made Breaking Bad the kind of show you just wanted to binge on.  The characters are really well-drawn and fleshed out.  They seem like real people and not just "types."  And it's expertly plotted.  That's really the key, isn't it?  You just want to know what happens next.

The first three seasons are on Netflix.  If they don't get season 4 up soon I guess we'll be ordering DVDs from Ireland or something.  Anyway, do check it out.  We need someone else to talk to about it.

BarGuessr

By now, we've all played GeoGuessr, the insanely fun game that uses Google Street View to plop you down at some random place on the globe and then challenges you to figure out where you are.  Hey, look, the billboards are in Portuguese, but it looks like crushing poverty, so must be Brazil!  That hotel sign looks like German so it must be.....Germany.  That kind of thing.

Well, that's fun and all, but it lacked one component that I find essential: ALCOHOL.  And thus BarGuessr was born.  The idea is simple: below you will find Google Street View shots of 6 bars in the world (OK, in the US or Europe).  You simply figure out where they are.  You can't go in and click around like in GeoGuessr, so it's harder, but the highly well-traveled and well-lubricated readership of this blog should have no problem.  Plus I'll give you clues.  One other thing: I have been to every single bar pictured below.

[1] First up we have bar that's actually in a hotel, so here's the front of the hotel. I saw Uma Thurman here once.

[2] The mural here apparently changes,because it was a whale when we were there. I like how the Google Street View face-obscuring algorithm nailed the chick painted in the mural.

[3] This place has a nice beer selection and also the gimmick that they let you send a free postcard anywhere in the country. Or at least they used to.

[4] This depressing little dive sometimes features live music and always features lonely alcoholics.

[5] This one is basically impossible.  It's not in the US, and yes, that is a real castle in the background.

[6] WHEW, back to our country.  This is the easiest one; the goddam name is on the awning.  The more game among you will try to figure it out without immediately resorting to Google.

[7] Finally, this is an iconic rock club.  Note the tour bus outside.

That's it!  Good luck.  Leave answers in the comments.  Winner gets something, I don't know what.  I'll title a blog post after you and write about the topic of your choice.  If you were inside any of these bars with me, you are not eligible to win.  Take it up with God; life is unfair.

The Bachelorette: Real Housewives of Fauxdrama County

¡Barcelona! Land of 10,000 Sad Angel Statues! Where James will toast to "Mi amoebas!"  Let's go on a solo date with Walking J. Crew Catalog Drew.  We have the usual strolling around town and then we learn there's "a lot more about him that she needs to know."  I KNOW, YOUR DAD LEFT YOU, BIG FUCKING YAWN.  Oh, no, wait, Dad is his hero?  Maybe he left in a super elegant and classy way?  No, he's an alcoholic.  With cancer.  Errrbody crying now. I guess the only thing worse than not drinking anymore is getting cancer.  SORRY ABOUT THAT ONE.

Oblig candlelight dinner.  D is "overcome with emotion" and drags her and the camera crew away from dinner into an adjacent alley to do what he imagines is passionate kissing, I think.  It's tough to tell because he seems about as sexual as a ficus.  Giving up on this attempt at passion, he then moves on to the next topic, BLOWING JAMES UP for not being here for the right reasons.  Remember that whole thing about James saying if he could just get into the top 4 then he'd have a shot at being the Bachelor?  Well, first, GET FUCKING REAL, there is NO FUCKING CHANCE that meathead would ever have a shot but also, WHO GIVES A FUCK.  Everybody, apparently.  Anyway, Dez is deeply troubled and oh fucking give me a break.

El Date del Groupo!  Something soccer related.  Juan Pablo will dominate at this, I guess. They all trundle off to the Barcelona soccer stadium and Juan Pablo immediately starts showing off his mad soccer skills and also high-fiving Des a lot like she's a bro.  Then Los Doucheros play a faux soccer match against a bunch of girls and get smoked mostly because James is the goalie and, as Juan Pablo correctly analyzes, "I guess he scared of getting hit with ball." 

Let's move onto the Night Portion and the Brofontation with James and we'll skip over the terrible, terrible "poem" that Dez has written for fellow Awful Poet Chris and my one wish for this season is that everybody stop writing fucking poetry, it's really the worst.  Anyway, 2 douches confront James with his "shocking" statements about being the next Bachelor and James quickly moves through the Stages of Brofontation, namely: (1) I was kidding, (2) I said it privately, (3) Mikey brought it up and I just agreed with him. There's a lot of bleeping and then Kasey with a K says he will "counter-accusate," whatever the fuck that means and then spills the whole thing to Des AGAIN.

The Brofrontation: Artist's depiction. I forgot to get screengrabs.

OK so then Des talks to James and he's like, Mikey brought the whole thing up.  He didn't have a connection with Des and he was "self-medicating himself."  That's it, James!  It's working!  Your fake crying and everything is working!

Back at the hotel, all the hens are clucking.  Are "you thinking he might turn violent?"  SHOW ME ON THE DOLL WHERE JAMES MIGHT TOUCH YOU.  That "federal prosecutor" Michael is just a big 12-year-old snitch with a lot of mousse.  Oh here comes James.  "Goodnight!" HRMPH!  HE DIDN'T GET VIOLENT AT ALL.

Next day, solo date with Human Skull, who is now a color not found in nature and apparently is dying his skin to match his outfit for the day.  They're off to art class where they will sketch each other and Des is understandably concerned about using color because "Worst Celebrity Spray Tan Disasters" isn't on the color wheel.  Neither one of them can art very well.

Dinner that night is at Freixenet!  Hopefully some budget-priced sparkling wine will lead to romance.  They descend into the caves to have a candlelit dinner surrounded by thousands of bottles of $5.99 cava.  She wants to know all about Human Skull!  He has a "spirit that wants to continue to venture!"  RIGHT INTO AN EPISODE OF THE HAUNTING I BET.  He gets the Cheap Champagne Rose.

"At this point in my life you kinda mean everything to me," Human Skull says, which is terrifying and awful, just like this show.

Meanwhile, the housewives are getting themselves all worked up about the James thing again!  Michael is the Captain of Hating James' Guts.  Drew is physically sickened by the thought that James isn't as invested in a fake TV relationship as he is.  Des interrupts their little bitchfest and takes James out to ask "What is your intentions, like, now?" and "Is you willing to discard subject-verb agreement for me?"  She doesn't kick him out yet.  OOOOOOOOO THE LADIES ARE SO MAD WHEN JAMES COMES BACK TO THE HOTEL.  Michael is all here, hold my pearls but then James says his basic point is that he won't kill himself if he gets kicked off and that is the most normal thing that's happened so far and then he leaves and all the girls burst into tears like they dropped a Barbie and an ice cream cone at the same time.

Rose Ceremony.  We're kicking 3 off!  Sweet, shit is moving faster now.  IN: Chris, Brooks, and Cindy.  I mean Michael.  OUT: Juan Pablo, James, and Kasey, thank fucking God.  Juan Pablo tries to summon up some tears but it's hard when the awful fate that awaits you is getting more tail than a salmon trawler wait that simile didn't work at all.  James says "Nobody will ever know the exact truth" like this is the Kennedy assassination or something.  Fuck's sake.