Light and hearty observations from a fat and ugly guy. Home of hackneyed drivel and ersatz-existentialist effluence. Choleric biliousness a specialty, since 1958.

The Bachelor: a review

Insight, I got. And boy, was the desperation ever on display, too.

Last night on ABC was this show, The Bachelor. This is where a guy gets to choose, cafeteria style, from a smorgasbord of 25 women (some of whom were obviously chosen by the producers because they are complete lunatics and mental cases). Then the guy, through a series of religious rites involving the bestowal of roses, ends up with one of them. And marries her.

The insight I got: are all women like this when men aren't around? Apparently so. Squealing, continual use of the word "cute", back-stabbing, snotty. And weird, too: there was one who apparently pictures positive things and then, just like a kidnapper would, cuts out headlines and letters from a newspaper and pastes them on paper. In her case, it wasn't a ransom note -- it's what she called a "vision board", and for her it results in all good things coming true! Listen, this particular dearie didn't need a vision board so much as a psychiatric evaluation board. You know, a team of doctors who'd quickly come to the conclusion that she should be warehoused for future medical experiments.

None of them were really that hot. There really wasn't one that I'd have given the time of day to if I was picking up chicks, Nigel-style, in a bar. One girl from Alabama had apparently gone under the knife as often as Joan Rivers; her smile ended somewhere around the back of her head. Not a good look.

And: every one of them was desperate to marry this guy (who also seemed a bit plastic and rehearsed to me). WTF is so great about marriage? That's the grand prize? Pfffft--should be what the loser walks away with.

Anyhow, on the Nigel scale of "this show blows dead hippos", I give it an 8 out of 10. I'll watch it again, mainly to point and giggle. And by the by, you can nominate me, Nigel, as the next bachelor by using their handy dandy 1-800 number. Oh, boy, imagine the fun I'd have on that first screening call with the producers!

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 6:12 AM