We will get through this together, Los Angeles.
We will get through this together, Los Angeles.
Abracadabra! Okay we’ll talk later.
For more info, head over to SamanthaTheLate20sWitch.com.
Hardest three weeks of my life. Totally worth it.
Get ready for green in 2018.
Brosefs, I get it. This shit is a day late. But aren’t you like, happy to know that I have a real life outside of this and other work obligations? As you’re sitting there refreshing whoissamjarvis.com I bet you’re thinking to yourself, “Wow, I really wish the new recap was up right now, but I’m so proud of Sam for being busy with her other hilarious comedy projects, coming our way in 2018”??? No? K.
When we last left these chicks, Bibiana was still super madsies at Krystal and I’m here to tell you not much has changed in one week. But Chris Harrison shows up to the house to talk about the first group date, and it appears he’s taking a page out of a fictional book I just made up called Mr. Casual: Fashion For The Everyday Man.
Guys I’m going to be honest with you IT FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK. Not as good as like, eating a chocolate lava cake, but still pretty lovely.
We kick off this season of debauchery with a friendly reminder that Ben took Jojo’s heart, put it on a pedestal, took it OFF that pedestal, and then stomped on it. He smashed that shit into a million pieces like it was a glass at a Jewish wedding. Mazel tov!
It is super fun to relive how Ben told her he loved her, looked her dead in the eyes and said, “I promise you won’t be blindsided,” only to blindside the FUCK out of her ass. But now she’s feeling better and most importantly HOPEFUL, even though I feel like the only thing she should be feeling is hungry since she definitely hasn’t eaten since January.
Great bod though. Great bod. She gets advice from basic bitches AHEM I mean FORMER BACHELORETTES Desiree, Ali, and Kaitlyn. Look I liked Kaitlyn, I really did, but seeing her sit next to Jojo makes me feel like somebody should just pull Jojo aside and be like girl, you don’t need advice from 7s. (Hey man, it is what it is.)
But you know what I’m ready to see? Some dudes. Chris Harrison’s ready to see some dick too, as evident by his classic Chris Harrison gesticulations.
First up is firefighter Grant, and my immediate thought is oh my God, I hope these guys don’t all have professions that double as Chippendales characters. I’m sure Grant is very nice but he is being a little aggressive with his sexy pose and it’s making me uncomfortable.
Next up is Aaron Roger’s brother, who I will now and forever refer to as Aaron Roger’s Brother. Dude’s foyne, I’ll give him that. The hair is too SWISHED for me but at least he’s in Jojo’s league. We also meet a short marine and I can barely pay attention because honestly I am so fucking distracted by THIS AWESOME ASS DOG.
Like, holy shit, that dog is amazing. Is it his dog? Is its name Velcro? I need more information.
We meet a superfan whose face looks like it’s made out of clay and it’s like, Bachelor superfan is not a job, James S. from Phoenix, Arizona.
There’s also a dick doctor, a bartender from Santa Monica, and some guy who wakes up at 3:30 in the fucking morning to work out. Um, no thank you. Unless you have the body and philanthropic kindness of The Rock, I am not into that shit. The last thing I need is to feel like a lazy asshole for waking up at 8:30 on a Saturday. That is an ACCOMPLISHMENT and nobody can take that away from me. NOBODY.
Anyway so it’s time for these dudez to get out of some mothafuckin limos, AMIRIGHT? As each one gets out and greets her my friend Jordan and I nestle into the couch to discuss which ones look tall. There are of course gimmicks and awkward moments, including one guy who “drops” his notecards, which does nothing but points out how soaking wet the Bachelor producers keep the pavement outside of the mansion.
I get that it looks magical but it’s like guys, c’mon. We are in a fucking drought out here and you’re hosing off the pavement so the moon will glisten off it? Leo DiCaprio’s environmental ass would NOT BE PLEASED!
We’re now moving into looney tunes territory as we meet a half Scottish dude in a kilt, somebody in a full on Santa suit, and a guy who looks like a Bar Mitzvah magician and thinks being Canadian is somehow a job.
You can thank my couchmate Jordan for the Bar Mitzvah joke.
Guys, I’m gonna be straight with you. The only thing that’s attractive is when they come out of the limo in a nice fucking suit. Don’t give me stress balls and tell me to squeeze them, don’t wear weird pocket squares and a tie with a knot that is way too wide. A NICE SUIT, and I swear to God I will think about fucking you. That’s all it takes.
As we meet all these weirdos, it’s suddenly clear we’ve got a villain on our hands. Chad, Chad, Chad, you salty motherfucker. He is hating on everybody and thinks he is seriously hot shit which is funny because he seems more like room temperature shit to me. Gooey, room temperature dog shit. Anyway here’s how Jojo’s doing:
At the cocktail party she wishes they weren’t all so nervous and it’s like bitch, they’ve been waiting months for this and now there are fifty billion cameras in their face AND your giant amazing boob job. I’m sure it’s slightly overwhelming.
One of the guys makes her kiss him by playing a dumb fucking paper child’s game and the first thing out of her mouth after they kiss is, “Maybe that will get better.” Off to a great start, dude! Something to write home about.
Aaron Roger’s Brother decides that like Ray Finkle before him, dude fuckin choked and should maybe go back and kiss her. She is VERY into it because 1) he has a nice butt and 2) because I’m 100% positive producers told her long ago that he is related to a famous person and she has already picked out their china pattern.
Villain Chad whisks her away to talk and immediately says, “Normally girls are so worried about themselves” and it’s like BRO, eat a dick. If some guy wanted to date me and his opening line was “girls have no self esteem” I’d probably be like cool story, I’m going to go home and order pizza like the badass bitch I am.
Canadian Daniel tries to explain the Damn, Daniel meme to Jojo and it is what the internet trolls would call an epic fail. He then touches another man’s belly button and everybody hates him and makes fun of his short ass tie, which now that you mention it does make me giggle.
And now, the parade of the drunks. Daniel takes his clothes off and random dudes start sitting in on Jojo’s one-on-one interviews with the producers. It is, in a word, crazytown.
Aaron Roger’s Brother gets the first impression rose even though she’s also drooling over every guy from Texas. But wait, another limo!! I am freaking the fuck out, 100% positive J.J. from Bachelor In Paradise is about to walk out of that fancy super long car.
Turns out it’s Jake Pavelka, former Bachelor/boring person not to be confused with Jessie Pavelka, trainer/bad Chinese symbol tattoo-haver of Biggest Loser. Anyway Jake gives her advice like “don’t put up walls” and all I keep thinking over and over is oh my God, you are a loser.
She starts giving out roses and it’s like, so many god damn roses. They keep cutting away as she puts them on their lapels because you know it’s taking her ten thousand years to pin each one on these fools. Vinny hasn’t gotten one yet and is NOT THRILLED.
You know who IS thrilled to get one? The dick doctor. Look at this goofy ass grin:
The final rose goes to crazy Canadian Daniel because the producers were like girl, you HAVE TO give him a rose. That is obviously the only explanation. The rest of them go home and are experiencing all the sads, although I think going out to a nice breakfast together would cheer them up since it is literally so fucking light outside that they have probably already missed the early bird special at Denny’s. It’s like 9 o’clock in the morning at this point.
We get a sneak peak of the rest of the season and shit is about to POP. OFF. Chad the Villain is like, actually punching people and threatening their lives while Aaron Roger’s Brother is pressing Jojo up against walls to make out with her. Seems like one way or another, errbody’s going to Poundtown.
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<<nods in several directions>> Thank you, thank you.
By Sam Jarvis
Decorating your space is important to not only the aesthetic of the room, but also your happiness as an individual. And what better way to add some color (and oxygen!) to your apartment than buying a shit ton of houseplants. But how many is too many? Let’s discuss.
Look around your living room. Take note of any areas that get good light, and also every spare inch of the floor. Can you see the floor? Yeah, that’s no good. Honestly if it doesn’t look like a god damn Rain Forest Cafe in there, you’re going to need more houseplants.
Put shorter plants on countertops, side tables, desks, your cable box. Put taller plants everywhere else. Sooo many tall plants, okay? Put a plant in every drawer of the kitchen. Put fifty in your closet. Just start gluing leaves to the walls. It’s going to really liven up the space.
Now I’ll be honest, 10,000 is probably too many, especially for a one bedroom apartment. But 9,990 is usually about right. Also flowers fucking suck, don’t buy flowers. They’re dead. They’re already. Dead. Houseplants are ALIVE, and you generally want things in your apartment to be living and not dead. Roommates, cats, foliage.
Once you have literally zero space left, sit on your couch and enjoy the beauty around you. See, that was a trick!! There shouldn’t be any space on your couch because you guessed it, houseplants.
Read more of my short humor pieces here.
By Sam Jarvis
Let’s face it, I am an amazing bridesmaid. I’ve got extra bobby pins. I know the right pace to walk down an aisle. I can inform Aunt Georgia that the reception buffet is the wrong place to tell the story of how she walked in on Uncle Bob spooning his tennis student. And as I watch every beautiful bride walk down the aisle, her soon-to-be husband smiling at her in what I’m certain is the most incredible moment of their lives, I will dab a tear from my eye. And then of course hold her bouquet and straighten out her dress.
I’m happy for my friends. Really, I am. But when is it going to be my turn? My time to shine onto a neatly organized surface, illuminating a collection of paper clips near a days-old coffee stain? It’s hard to watch the girls I grew up with get zipped into dresses, one after another, knowing that I may never get the chance to gather dust in a cubicle, a Post-It note saying, “Pay gas bill!” taped to my base.
You can’t force these things. I know that. But if you haven’t turned into a desk lamp by the time you’re 30 or 35, you start to worry that it may never happen. I’ve baked penis-shaped cakes, lunged for bouquets in turquoise chiffon, and scoured social media for anything filtered and cropped that’s missing #TimHeartsSarah. But will I ever be surrounded by a mug full of pens and a half-eaten granola bar that is quickly attracting ants?
The next time someone asks me to be their bridesmaid by sending me an adorable Pinterest-inspired DIY photo frame, I hope that I will be in the position to respectfully decline. I will tell her that I can’t, partly because David’s Bridal doesn’t make dresses small enough for office supplies but also because my Saturdays will be spent sitting silently in an empty, dark office, excitedly awaiting the arrival of a bustling Monday. I will therefore be unable to attend your celebration of love at the Marriot by the airport.
It’s important to have hope, to have patience. I struggle with that sometimes. But tonight, as my head hits the hotel pillow, spinning from the open bar and several rounds of the Horah, I feel at peace. Someday I will be complete. I will be a desk lamp, watching Nate from accounting pick his nose and wipe it under his swivel chair. And I can’t wait.
Read more of my short humor pieces here.
By Sam Jarvis
Rubbing an ice cube on your face in the morning will reduce puffiness.
Clear nail polish stops runs in your stockings.
Bryan Bowman has a girlfriend.
Setting up auto-pay on your bills will ensure you never pay a late fee again.
You can make an awesome face mask with plain yogurt.
Even if Bryan seems like he’s flirting with you, he isn’t. He’s just being nice.
Vodka sodas are a great low-cal alternative to vodka Sprites.
If you feel you deserve a raise, ask for it.
Like seriously, he and his girlfriend are in love.
You can remove deodorant stains with a dryer sheet.
Always pee after sex.
I swear to God Jenna if you’re reading this, stop texting Bryan.
You can use frozen grapes to chill white wine.
Drinking a glass of warm lemon water curbs appetite, eases digestion, and prevents the formation of wrinkles and acne.
I KNOW YOU ASKED HIM TO GRAB COFFEE AFTER WORK, JENNA. CUT THE CRAP.
Using credit cards with rewards points will get you the most out of your purchases.
Sleeping 7-9 hours a night improves memory function.
If I find out you guys did in fact get coffee, you’re going to want to sleep with one eye open.
Coconut oil makes an incredible deep-conditioner.
There are plenty of ways to get away with murder.
By Sam Jarvis
WHAT. TO WEAR. It’s hard because you know, you want to look mature. The man is seventy years old so your chunky heels and topknot bun are not going to impress him. If I do the math correctly, which 4 times out of 5 (85%) doesn’t happen, he was in his 20s in the 60s. Is that right? Oh my God, numbers are so confusing. Basically I need to look like Twiggy. She was hot back then.
I am now standing over my bathroom sink cutting my hair with kitchen scissors. Twiggy it is, ladies and gents! I am going to rock this date. How do I make my bottom lashes look like Bambi eyes? We’ll deal with that later.
The hair is not looking very Twiggy-ish. It’s looking, well, kind of bad. I can’t see the back of it. But I MUST PRESS ON. What scent do you think he would like? Sometimes I feel like he’d be a Chanel No. 5 man, but at the same time I can see him getting all googly over Bath and Body Works Pearberry. I think I have some of that somewhere. The cap might be dried shut.
I am back in front of my closet, naked and staring. What in this mess of fabric could possibly be good enough for an evening to remember with THE William Gary Busey? I can’t even believe I’m saying that. LA really is the place of dreams. You always picture meeting a celebrity, hitting it off, but it’s really HAPPENING.
I just caught another look at my hair in the mirror. I’ll have to gel it down or something. Still no idea what to wear. Where do you think we’ll go? I feel like he’s going to want Italian. I can just picture him looking me straight in the eyes and saying, “Would you like to split a caprese?” If he does that, I will die.
When he asked me out he told me that my hair was long “like the tail of a mermaid.” PANIC. I have cut off my beautiful mermaid tail hair. Why would Twiggy do this to me? Oh my God, she was jealous of me this whole time! Wow. I can’t believe she did that.
You know what though? Gary is going to love me for me. He’s that kind of person. What’s more important is that I have PICKED. AN OUTFIT. Do you think he’s into sweaters? I feel like I’m in too many layers.
I can’t wait for us to get married. Small ceremony, probably in Hawaii, definitely without shoes. He likes my feet. I really can’t believe he’s my husband. I am the luckiest girl in the world.
On Sundays we go to the farmer’s market where I buy vegetables and he sits and eats grapes. Also we have FOUR Amazon fire TVs and they were all FREE. Gary talks to them just like he does in the commercials and I am star struck every time.
When he’s out on auditions (still going strong!!) I sit on the floor and scrapbook. I’m working on our trip to Fort Myers, which was a complete success despite the fact that Gary kept getting sand all over him while I tried to rub in his sunblock. Cancer’s real, guys! Get informed! We use SPF 50 and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We are not going to have kids because they would take away from our time together. Are you seriously asking if I’d rather drive a child to school, or make the LOVE of my LIFE his daily bowl of nonfat Greek yogurt with a berry medley? Ha. You’re funny.
He’s now 90 and I’m 35 (that’s a lie, I’m 46) and we are still so happy. Over mashed potatoes last night he told me how to make love to an inner tube and I was mesmerized by it. Our Chihuahua mixes sat nearby eating some kind of very fancy kibble and it was just SO. US.
Oh my God I never did the Bambi lashes!! Wow, thankfully it all worked out.
I am a comedy writer. Sadly, this is a complete work of fiction. You can read more of my short humor pieces here.