Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Um, No Thanks


So it would appear that the new bachelorette, Ali (insert gagging noise), has requested that all of her potential suitors look like things that the sewer ate and later pooped out. With the exception of Jesse, sexy construction worker, and Roberto, former minor league baseball player, these guys seem to be collected from the "take my loser boyfriend" recycling plant. And not to say that the aforementioned bachelors are peaches either. Jesse is more inked than Jesse James' Hitler-loving mistress and Roberto, by his profession, is most likely a cheating, disease-ridden manwhore.

Also this season, ABC has made a bold move and invited a real NBC character to compete for Ali's heart. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I give you Michael Scott under code name "Johnathon the Weatherman." I really don't know how the network got away with this. I smell a law suit coming on, or as the Weatherman says, "something evil and dangerous."

Oh... and another thing... whoever says that the "Weatherman" is not gay is kidding herself.

But the real icing on the cake this go-around, is the bachelorette herself. I must say, Ali Fedotowsky is the most irritating, nausea-inducing, and unappealing bach to date. Upon further reflection, I've come to the conclusion that she has the face of some sort of bear-like cartoon figure (care bear, Paddington Bear, Winnie the Pooh, you take your pick) with the personality of a squawking parrot.
It's true; I've always had a real aversion to caddy bitches... especially those who lack the ability to feel comfortable in grown up clothes. When Ali was a contestant for Jake's season, her 8th grade sundresses made me feel like I was watching a reality show documenting a cracker factory. Now that the producers force her into big girl gowns, Ali looks just about as comfortable as a post-surgery Heidi Montag wearing clothes in public. Learn how to wear a real dress, you 12-year-old.

And that's really all I have to say on the subject. Seeing as I have no more GG or HIMYM in my life, my Mondays may have to be forced into this torture. Someone find me a solution---STAT!

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