This Fucking Old House

My life right now is kinda consumed with working on this new place we're moving into but I'm not really a fan of home makeover blogs and so I'm not really psyched to document how we hung up a vintage map of the Transcontinental Railroad and then have my comments section fill up with "So cute!" comments. Instead, here's an askew picture of our new living room, taken from our new dining room, and featuring my sister's dog:

The place has potential but it's trashed right now. There have been tenants in there for like 10 consecutive years and it shows. We have to pull up all the carpets and paint the whole interior and also do some work in the kitchen. There's crazy sound transmission between the first floor (where my sister is living) and the top floor (see above), so we have to put down soundproofing material. We got 2 bids for this. One wants around $4,000 to do it and the other guy wants $17,500 in cash - no checks or credit card, like hand him stacks of $20s wrapped up in those little paper sleeves. SHAY DEE. Anyway, so yeah, that 13 grand difference kind of takes Guy #2 out of contention. I've never house shit before but is this standard? There's a 400% difference in bids to do the same thing? What the fuck?

This whole thing is going to be fucking expensive and everyone's all "Oh, you should paint the interior yourselves" but fuck that, I'd rather pay someone and have it done right than do it myself.

ANYWAY, this is already a snooze so sorry about that. I'll try and have better content in the near future once this fucking stress bolus has passed through my system.

The Bachelor: Back from the dead!

Guess what? Tonight we're heading to San Francisco, or as every chick irritatingly and repeatedly calls it, "San Fran." Ben says about a million times how much he loves it and how it's his home and blah blah blah we get it. Anyway, the harem is installed at the Fairmont and we're ready for some activities. Hopefully they do some authentic San Francisco stuff like eating a small disc of artisanal something for $62 or doing key bumps in the bathroom at Blow Up!

We begin with a solo date with Emily. Whatever, you guys, I like Emily. She seems cool. They're off to climb the Bay Bridge! Ben and Emily manage to wake up some CalTrans workers long enough to get some climbing gear and then up the cable they go. Laugh all you want, it does look fucking terrifying. And Emily's afraid of heights! Haha. They're going up and she's freaking out and he says "TALK TO ME GOOSE" and I was all "What the fuck?" and The Wife told me it's from Top Gun and now we know that B is the kind of dork who uses Top Gun quotes in conversation. Anyway, they make it to the top and discover the skeletal remains of a family of German tourists who got lost.

[TRUE STORY INTERJECTION: I have a friend who (totally illegally) walked up the cable of the Golden Gate Bridge one time in the 90's. He made it to the top and said he found an empty Budweiser can and a pile of human shit. Then he walked back down and didn't get caught. That would not happen today.]

Night portion of date. They're having an outdoor dinner. At first I was all "Why aren't they shivering and why isn't the food blowing off the plates?" and then I remembered they were filming this during the heat wave last summer. Serendipitous! Anyway, Emily tells some story about dating her older brother or something, I wasn't really paying attention.

Group date. Just your usual everyday bikini skiing on a street in San Francisco. Remember when they were filming this? SF Weekly does! Anyway, it's like extreme sports as conceived of by a 14-year-old boy. I am vicariously embarrassed for everyone. For the nighttime portion of the date, we head to the Tonga Room and start doing some shots. Someone says "I don't think there's going to be any drama tonight." THAT'S FORESHADOWING and means there is going to be a lot of drama tonight. This drama will take the form of Brittney realizing for the first time that SHE IS ON A TV SHOW and this TV show involves COMPETING WITH OTHER WOMEN TO WIN THE AFFECTIONS OF A BADLY-HAIRED MAN. What, did you think you were going on Slutty Jeopardy or something, Brittney? I mean, have you ever watched this show? Do you own a TV or do you just hang out with Grams and go to bingo? FUCK. She cries a lot and says leaving the show was the "hardest decision of her life." Second hardest was trying to decide between General Tso's chicken and moo shoo gai pan the other night at Golden Lotus. Anyway, KMAGYOYO. You are not here for the right reasons. You must take your ugly purple roller bag and get into the Cab of Tears and go back to wherever they grow people like you.

Speaking of B's hair, it is now starting to look almost as bad as Ali's dime-store extensions a few seasons back. Really, ABC, at least give the man some shampoo.



OK, time for a solo date with LINDZI or however the fuck you spell it. I'm not Max Factor or anything, but even I can tell you that girlfriend needs to learn how to put on some makeup. Even a little lipstick might help out. Anyway, they're off for a tour in one of those fake cable cars. They're tooling around and just as they're passing through the fucking CHINATOWN GATE, which is festooned with paper lanterns and Chinese characters and whatnot, Lindzi goes "WHERE ARE WE NOW?"



Well, I don't know, Lindzi! Maybe this is Little Armenia or Frenchtown! Hard to figure out! Maybe there'll be a visual clue of some type. Sigh. So they go to City Hall and Matt Nathanson is playing which is fine, he seems totally inoffensive and whatever and I'm just psyched it's not Third Eye Blind or Smashmouth. Then it's off to Bourbon and Branch to not eat yet another fancy dinner and he's all "Hey, how come you're still single?" and she tells a very sad story about how she was in love once but he had to be put down after he broke his leg in a race.

DUN DUN DUNNNN. MEANHWILE, a dark presence is drawing closer. It's some chick but they're filming it like it's a hired assassin which would be sweet.

OK, Cocktail Party time. B comes in and now his hair looks like the skinned pelt of a diseased squirrel. Jennifer gets some alone time and she could probably blow a .15 at this point, girl is LIT UP and she babbles on about how she likes him and pats him and is getting weird. WEIRD. This leads to some Deep Tongue Exchange. Swear to God, one person in this group has mouth herpes and everyone's got it, 'cause this guy is making the fuck out with everyone.

The Darkness has arrived. Hey, it's Shawntel of the Dead from Brad's season! She has managed to pull herself away from her ghoulish corpse play long enough to try and get back on TV. Meanwhile, B and halibut-eyed Courtney, who is increasingly resembling a lizard with her tiny food slot mouth and dry, hard lips, are up on the roof and Courtney goes on about how'd they'd make "cute babies," and (1) NOT A GREAT STRATEGY, and (2) ugh, some kind of lizard-human hybrid baby with cold clammy luggage skin and that little mouth slit. No thanks.

Shawntel cruises in and upsets the herd. Her mere presence reduces some women to tears, while others are shaking in rage. It is as if we told them the spray-tanning machine is broken or that Katy Perry will not make any more albums. So she has a little chat with B and it comes out that they've "talked before," which is obviously code for "banged after one of those Bachelor parties and then he didn't call because he had moved on to Jennifer Love Hewitt and also the VIP cocktail waitress from a casino in Laughlin" and so they have this awkward convo and she wants to be on the show because she's decided she prefers the company of the living now. Courtney pronounces this whole situation "whack." Too true, Courtney.

OK, this is running long so let's get to the Rose Ceremony and GTFO. They;re all lined up and BOOM! ERIKA GOES DOWN. ERIKA GOES DOWN. WE HAVE A GIRL ON THE FLOOR. All the other chicks immediately start offering advice, like "Breathe in through your nose and out through the mouth" and "Put your head between your legs" and "Begin to rethink your life choices." Anyway, the Medical Staff gets her upright again just in time to show her the door, along with Jaclyn and Shawntel too. Jaclyn flees in tears. Jesus Christ, people.

Spoilers

The line you got in will be the slowest one.

They messed something up in your delivery order.

She's not in love with you.

It's sold out.

They sold out.

It won't look as good when you get it home.

You're going to be in the bathroom when they play the song you wanted to hear.

It's backed up to the Maze.

There's a line at the lunch place.

There's a new meme going around. It involves a dog and text in all caps.

This place will be ruined by hipsters.

Someone is offended by something you don't find offensive at all.

A celebrity will die unexpectedly.

A commenter on the Internet will profess an objectionable opinion.

You spent too much.

Fog in the morning, burning off my midday.

Maybe you'll move to New York.

The Giants won't be able to hit.

That thing with Rob Schneider in it is going to suck.

You can't believe they broke up.

It's a mistake for them to get married.

You will have too much to drink.

The Bachelor: The Crying Game

I got distracted by the BCS Championship Game and missed the first couple of minutes of The Show, which means I probably missed the swooping helicopter shots of the Sonoma Valley and Chris Harrison saying "TONIGHT, ON THE BACHELOR," so instead I tune in right as Ben and "Kacie" (ugh) are embarking on their solo date. Is it just me, or does Kacie look exactly like EVERY OTHER GIRL THAT'S EVER BEEN ON THIS SHOW? There's a factory in Shenzhen China where grossly underpaid workers get RSIs working 18 hour days cranking out Bachelor contestants. Kacie is the apotheosis of their craft. This is the first time "apotheosis" has been used in a Bachelor recap.

BACK TO THE MATTER AT HAND. Ben, as we will be informed repeatedly, LOVES his home, Sonoma, and so he and Kacie take a moonlight stroll through a COMPLETELY DESERTED POST-APOCALYPTIC DOWNTOWN SONOMA, I mean seriously, is this like a "Walking Dead"/Bachelor crossover? WHERE THE FUCK IS EVERYONE? She says "It's like we're the only two people on Earth right now," like NO SHIT KACIE, I'm starting to wonder if we've all been raptured or something. Anyway, they have a dinner at an otherwise-deserted Girl and the Fig and it's time for more Dead Dad talk. FORESHADOWING. She collects her rose and it's off to the Sebastiani Theater for a TOTAL MINDFUCK, get ready for this. They sit down expecting to see the latest creatively bankrupt Jennifer Anniston romcom or something and instead we're treated to Kacie's childhood home movies. Sure, mortifyingly embarrassing, but whatever. But then the producers really turn the screws with Ben's old home vids, featuring prominently, of course, Dead Dad. FUCK. That is some fucked-up shit to be pulling, producers! Love it. Anyway, cry cry cry and then they make out in the post-nuclear Sonoma town square.

Group date with 10 or 12 or whatever of them. I can't be bothered to learn their names yet. That comes later. It seems that they will be performing a play written by a bunch of kids! It's called "Dragon Ball Glen Ross." No, not really. First all the chicks have to audition for the kids. This is almost as demeaning as real auditions. Whoa, one kid asks Nicki to do a "sexy dance." I might have CPS ask around at that kid's house, just saying. So they're putting on this play at the Community Theater and it's called "Prince Pinot of Bachelorville" because you know kids would think of a title like that. I'm bummed it's not "Sir Scotch of Skid Row," but you've got to keep the alcohol references high-class when you're dealing with kids. They're barely old enough to drink wine coolers. All I know is that this play features Blakeley as a Sexy Groundhog or something.



Anyway, this "play" also features Ben in a sheep costume and I can already hear the Furry Message Boards exploding and the whole thing is borderline inappropriate and we're all glad when it's over.

Back at the Sonoma Mission Inn, THERE IS GIRL DRAMA. Everyone hates Blakeley and now it's Samantha's turn to retreat to the bathroom. These chicks hit up the bathroom more than hipsters at Delirium. We segue into a pool party and Ben is fucking making out with everything in sight. Maybe all those bathroom trips! Blakeley "super believes in her kissing skills 100%." Girlfriend is doing something right because she gets a rose. This makes Jennifer cry and cry. Crying and bathroom trips. This is our season.

OK, solo date with fish-eyed "model" Courtney. They're off for a picnic along with Ben's dog "Scotch." Scotch has taught Ben that he wants children! Ben, not Scotch, I mean. Well, maybe Scotch wants children too. He and Ben apparently have a lot of soul-searching late-night convos, so who knows what else Scotch has taught Ben. In the Night Phase of this date, they're off for the obligatory Outdoor Dinner, this one in a vineyard, of course. Ben regales Courtney with tales of his "partying" and his life of excess in the Krazy World of Internet Advertising. Whoa, remember that time we all finished that bottle of Skyy and then ordered room service to someone else's room? That was quite a lollapalooza!!! Crazy days, crazy days. Courtney's dated an actor, she says, but she had to dump him when she found "underwear in the bed." Apparently it's something named "Jesse Metcalfe." Is that an actor? I don't know. She gets a rose. Of course. She's a fucking model.

OK, pre-Rose Ceremony goings-on. Ben makes yet another speech about how much he LOVES Sonoma. WE GET IT ALREADY. He has a little private time with Lindzi or however you spell it and she goes on and on about how she drives a truck and wears dirt for makeup and doesn't know what high heels are and likes to watch wrestling and anything else she can think of to persuade him that she is actually a man. GREAT STRATEGY THERE. Ben's trying to get some face time with all those chicks and Blakeley keeps barging in. This makes everyone hate her and everyone wants to go to the bathroom and cry now.

Oh, here comes Trainwreck Jenna! Being around girls is "very abnormal" for her. I'd say being in any kind of situation without her Seroquel is "very abnormal" for her. Naturally, the stress of interacting with others is too much and she collapses into a crying jag. Jenna is not equipped to handle things like being on national TV or when the vending machine fails to dispense her Sun Chips. Meanwhile, Blakeley sees everyone else's Obvious Bid for Attention and joins in by going off to cry behind the luggage. Ben finds her there on his Fun Trip Around the House collecting the decompensating bags of tears. Quite a crew we've assembled.

Let's get to the cuts. Some chick I've never seen before and Trainwreck Jenna. She responds by stoically accepting her fate and acknowledging that it's not that big a deal. No, I'm shitting you, she totally fucking falls apart and will need years of therapy to deal with this shit. She "can't believe it." Really? Because I can totally fucking believe it. Nobody wants to date an Emotional Plane Crash, and Jenna, you are the Tenerife Airport Disaster of women.

Jenna's psyche, upon learning that Netflix streaming is down.

NEXT WEEK: SF. I wonder if there will be any interaction with cable cars?

Bars of the Inner Richmond: A Limited Survey

Here's some news: We're moving to the Inner Richmond. Long story, but there it is. As it happens, we will be occupying the top floor of a 2-unit building and The Sister is on the bottom floor. This is not the setup for a sitcom, although now that I think about it, it has certain sitcom-ish potential.

ANYWAY on Saturday The Sister and I checked out some of our new neighborhood bars. I've been to all these places, so technically it wasn't a New Bar Night, but it's been years so it sort of was. We were out between roughly 7 and 9 pm, so we probably didn't get the Full Saturday Effect, but that's enough disclaimers now. Here's where we went:

We walked into Buckshot, took one look around, and walked out. It looked like a bunch of kids at a county fair where they happened to serve booze, what with all the skee ball and shuffleboard and picnic tables. I hope someone's checking IDs. (Also, their website says "Be excellent to each other. And... PARTY ON, DUDES! - - - - - - - - poop on a stick!" That probably tells you everything you need to know about Buckshot.)

Next we went to Ireland's 32. I actually kinda like Ireland's 32, as far as Irish bars go, but Saturday night it was in full sports bar mode, with the Saints-Lions playoff game blaring from all 15 or whatever TVs. I'm not opposed to sports bars per se, but it just wasn't what we were looking for. I've been there other nights and had a good time though.

Maintaining the Irish theme, the next stop was the Plough & Stars on Clement. Nice enough place, but The Sister's drink was super-weak which made her more surly than normal. Perhaps sticking with beer here would be advisable. Also, apparently not everyone's drinks were weak, because there was a group of super shitfaced guys careening around the bar. Ah, youth. Maybe it'll be more of a weeknight bar.

Moving down Clement, we came to the Bitter End, which might be a semi-Irish bar. At this point, there is very little to distinguish one place from another. They're all that kind of exposed-wood-pool-table-TV-screen-wooden-booth kind of places. Another way young crowd.

Last stop: the 540 Club. Not an Irish bar, thank God. We actually liked this place a lot. Divey but cool. The bartenders were totally friendly. Also fairly young crowd, but not as college-y as the other places. I guess the Yelp says it gets crowded on weekends? Not when we were there (but, again, this was at like 9 or 9:30 pm). I could see hanging out here.

Then we took a cab to the Tenderloin and some other stuff happened. The end.

Today in Self-Denial News

You know all about Sober January, right? Let's see, I wrote about it in January 2010. It's just like what it sounds like: no booze in January. Kind of a chance to dry out for a bit and get some stuff done and also save some money. You would not BELIEVE how much money you save.

I only made it 9 days in 2009.

Actually, I already know there's a built-in break this year. The Wife had already made plans to attend a "cider tasting" (i.e., alcoholic cider, duh) this Saturday, so in support of her struggle, I might have a couple of drinks on Saturday too. Then we're back on it! I know, that's cheating. MYOB.

Just to make this even more unpleasant, we're also on severe diet restrictions for a while! We're doing a modified "Paleo" diet, which is basically just meat and vegetables and a little bit of fruit. No dairy. No sugar. No wheat, rye, barley, oats, corn, brown rice, soy, peanuts, kidney beans, pinto beans, navy beans and black eyed peas. It's basically supposed to mimic the way our distant ancestors ate, so I'm planning to get the guys together and see if we can run a wooly mammoth off a cliff and then feast on its entrails.

But wait! The Wife is a semi-lapsed Catholic and even no drinking + Paleo isn't enough self-punishment for her, so she's taking up self-flagellation! Not really. She's actually doing a Juice Fast for the next 3 days. Then she'll have to think of some other way to punish herself.

Maybe we'll rent "Jack and Jill." That should take care of self-punishment for a year or so, easy.

The Bachelor: Now with 35% more crazy!

[Previous seasons of this crap here, here, and here. God help you if you read through all that.]

Yes, friends, time to load up the Crazy Cannon and shoot despair and tragedy all over the TV again and, ew, not too happy about that metaphor, let's leave that alone and move on. This season we have simian winemaker/feelings-haver Ben, who is fresh off being dumped at the proposal by Ashley and is now ready to move on and "knows what [he's] looking for." Not Jennifer Love Hewitt, obvi!

We have returned, as we often do, to San Francisco and we have the usual establishing shots (cable cars, etc., etc.) interspersed with shots of Ben gazing out to sea REALLY HARD and now he's on a boat. Let's get on down to the Mansion in Malibu and here's Chris Harrison, who really does not age at all, I mean, that kid looks EXACTLY like he did in Season 1, and after some conversation about how Ashley dumped him and broke his heart, LET'S GO TO THE VIDEOTAPE AND MEET US SOME CHIX!!!!!!

Our first misspelled Lindsay is "Lindzi," who is either into horses or is one herself. Also hailing from the Land of the Curiously Spelled is "Kacie," who "wants this me to be a we," ugh. We then see her either doing an interpretive dance or signaling her Alien Overlords that she has achieved her goal of penetrating America's Most Sacred Institution and will now send reports form the inside.



Courtney claims to be a model, maybe for the National Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Foundation. Jamie has a sad story! She had "no Dad" and her mother had "dependency issues" and she had to raise her siblings and she is going to cry a lot, I can tell. Our second misspelled Lindsay is "Lyndsie," who is an "Internet entrepreneur" with a fake-sounding British accent that she can't even keep straight and has the annoying in-your-face personality of someone who wasn't hugged enough as a child.

Jenna is a "blogger" who lives in NYC and does Sex and the City stuff like sitting at an outdoor cafe with her glass of red wine and typing something on her laptop and then looking off wistfully into the distance. She is a handsome woman, I'll give her that! Nicki is 26 and divorced and can't figure out why her marriage at age 21 didn't work out. You're fine, Nicki! Jesus, stop talking about it already. We're all damaged goods at this point, babes.

More Chris interview with Ben. Feelings feelings feelings blah blah blah whatever. Chris wants to know if Dead Dad will be with him and Ben says "pieces of his father" are with him. Gross.

Alright, enough of this foolishness. Let's get these crazy bitches out of the limos and into our hearts. Here they come! Erika is a law student and tells Ben "You are guilty of being sexy." Jesus, who writes this shit? Ben's mouth says "That was funny" but his face betrays a different emotion.



Then they start coming in too fast. It's kind of a blur. Some chick says her nickname is the "Baconator." Not sure that's a detail I'd be broadcasting but whatever. Jenna seems to think that Long Awkward Pauses are the way to a man's heart. She didn't get the memo that Ben's not autistic. Much. Emily is in school studying "the transmission of disease," so she's in the right place! OH SNAP!! That was too easy, don't laugh at that.

Here come some more. Amber is wearing some kind of banana yellow window treatment as a dress and has a pronounced head tilt, like when you speak Spanish to a dog. You know you do that! Shira is an actress from LA and looks like an anorexic insect of some kind. I don't want to be too mean to Blakeley, but did anyone else find her a bit....manly? Lyndsie arrives. If they play that faux-British music every time she's on screen I will...I will continue to watch the show quietly or something. One chick sends out her grandma, whose occupation, disappointingly, is not "VIP Cocktail Waitress."

OK, time for the party. All these chicks seem about half-lit, except for the few that are full lit. There's the usual cattiness and all the bitches HATE the chick who brought grandma, but this is window dressing for the 2 main events:

1. Jenna must have apartments in Antarctica AND the Arctic, because bitch is BI-POLAR!!!! GET IT???? Ugh. Anyway, she's crazier than a shithouse rat and begins decompensating directly after her third glass of Korbel. Here she is tearing Monica a new one because Monica isn't in love with Ben yet. Monica wants to patch things up, so Jenna thoughtfully offers that "maybe we can share a tampon sometime." I didn't make that up. That's what she said. Do girls really talk like that? Anyway, Jenna is clearly insane and they should at least do some kind of basic mental health screening before putting these people on TV. She ends the episode with a good crying jag in the bathroom. That's how I end most episodes too!

2. Speaking of Monica, she and Blakeley have a serious cuddle puddle on the couch and she's playing with her hair and telling her how beautiful she looks and the whole scene is straight out of the Chill Room at a rave in 1996 and it really does look like they're about to make out and all we're missing is The Orb on the soundtrack. I mean, what the fucking fuck is going on this season. Decompensating Jenna! Sapphic Love on the Couch! Crazy intense Courtney with the eyes on the side of her head like a salmon! It's too much.

Let's just get to the Rose Ceremony and put this unpleasantness behind us. Ben starts with a boring speech. I'm sure he's a nice enough guy but I've met cacti that had more engaging personalities. Who are we keeping? Damaged Jamie and Post-op Blakeley and her Cuddle Buddy Monica with the Hate Eyes and Disease Transmitter Emily and I think every variant of "Casey" and THANK GOD YOU KNEW IT WAS COMING, at the producers' insistence, Trainwreck Jenna! Yay! Yay!

UPDATE: I'm not on Facebook (as I will pompously advise anyone who asks, like I'm so superior), but am advised that this post has been flagged on FB for being "abusive or spammy." I can't imagine how it's spammy, so it must be "abusive." I don't know how to not be abusive about the Bachelor, but in an effort to patch things up:

1. I'm sorry I said Lindzi might be a horse.
2. I'm sorry I can't string together more than 150 words without saying "fuck" or "Jesus."
3. I'm sorry I implied that Courtney looks like she has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome even though she totally does.
4. I don't have any PERSONAL information that Emily is disease-spreading walking petri dish and you should hand sanitize every time you touch her.
5. Jenna really did say the tampon thing, so I'm not apologizing for that.

Can we be friends again? We cool here?