

WOMEN SUPPORTING OTHER WOMEN, Y’ALL!!
Read the Bachelor recaps that made me oh so famous here.

BABYLUVS. WE DID IT. WE ARE AT THE END OF THE LONG, TWISTED, THROW PILLOW LINED ROAD.
The first thing to remember about the end of Nick’s journey is that Chris Harrison pronounces the word finale fin-AH-lee.

He just loves saying it like that. Chris also loves being a grade-A cock tease, because he immediately tells us that some shit is about to go down on After the Final Rose tonight, which leads me to believe maybe there will be a proposal on live television. A girl can dream.
So they’re still in this town in Finland, and I’m starting to wonder if Nick is getting sick of drinking hot chocolate and wearing polar tech socks, but maybe our Wisco boy is into that shit.

Guys. Grab a snack, pour a beverage, and try to pee, because we are about to settle in for a three hour Bachelor event®, which is longer than I attend most real-life events.
We jump right into the morning-after phase of Raven’s overnight date, and if you’re wondering whether or not he gave her the first orgasm of her sad life, she summarizes the night by explaining that, “Nick is pretty good at what he does, so I’m satisfied.”

I immediately hear myself say ew, while my boyfriend goes, “That lacked subtlety,” before standing up and leaving the room for what I assume will be forever.

BTW, here’s my Oscars recap in two words: SHIT STORM!
We last left off in Nick’s hotel room before the rose ceremony, where Andi Dorfman had suddenly shown up at his door. They both need a whisky, as we all do when we are about to talk to someone we boned on television.

Meanwhile the girls are standing outside waiting for this fool and it looks cold as shit. (“You better be worth this, Nick!” –Vanessa, who has been very complain-y lately)

GUYS!! HOMETOWNS!! Let me start by saying that the thought of my parents sitting in a bachelor confessional talking about the love I have for a person I have known for six weeks is HIGHLY SUSPECT, but I love me a good fucking hometown so LET US BEGIN.
We left off in Bimini with Christina’s ass being sent home. The girls are all shook as hell, and when Nick comes to talk to them about what’s happening, Corinne literally can’t even.


Let me take this time to thank each and every one of you who heard the VIRAL NEWS that Rachel is going to be the next Bachelorette, and then immediately texted or e-mailed me to congratulate me on being so fucking right. Because who guessed weeks ago that she was going to be the first black Bachelorette? Oh, that’s right-

Damn, it feels good to be a gangster.
We left off last week with Nick crying and crying and crying. He had the most major case of le sads ever, because what if he can’t find his wife on this television show? WHERE, oh where, in the city of Los Angeles will he find someone who shares the same interests as him, such as being on a television show?

I just want you guys to know that so far I have written 6,296 words about this season of the bachelor. Okay, now 6,304. That is roughly 25 pages of a book. I could’ve been TWENTY FIVE PAGES into the next great American novel but noooo, gotta make you noodles laugh and laugh.
ANYWHO, we left off last week with Corinne and Taylor battling it out while snuggling under a shared throw blanket. Taylor tries to explain what Emotional Intelligence is and Corinne is like welp, everybody thinks you’re a bitch. Corinne 1, Taylor 0.

Let me take a second to say how proud I am of all the badass bitches who marched this last weekend. I would tongue kiss you all if I could. I love you. And what better way to celebrate feminism than to go fucking IN on Corinne at this pool party, amiright?!

Everybody is still freaking out about the whole straddle situation, to the point where I’m pretty sure “bouncy house” has turned into 85% of these girls’ trigger word. (None of them will ever be able to go to a child’s birthday without sweating profusely and/or bursting into tears.)

Look I’m gonna be real, I woke up at 5:30 in the morning yesterday, went to work, EXERCISED, worked on my writing, made dinner (jk I watched my boyfriend do it), and then READ A BOOK so by the time Nick Viall graced my god damn television screen for a new episode I was practically crying over such a sweet reward for a day well done.
I know I should’ve put that in a fucking diary but YOU GUYS ARE MY DIARY!! Just soak it in, accept it. Anyway the girls are excited about the dates this week, especially Sarah, who is making a face like a brunch waitress is refilling her bottomless mimosa.

The first group date features no fewer than one thousand women, and they will all be modeling wedding gowns in a photo shoot with Nick. Except some of the girls will actually just have to be bridesmaids. LOL! Some producer with weak-at-best personal relationships is cackling from their office as we speak going, “God dammit that was a great idea. These bitches will flip out!”

Nothing screams Golden Globes like Sam Jarvis sitting on her couch with a whiskey, wondering where the fuck she went wrong. (If you’re already opening a new tab to Google Sam Jarvis, it’s me, guys, I’m talking about myself.)
We jump right into the award season action with a parody of La La Land, which is cute but a complete waste of Justin Timberlake. If he’s not going sing or dance, why did you show him to me? Jimmy Fallon, always a cock tease. What we do get a lot of, are close-up shots of Fallon’s fucked up finger that he ALLEGEDLY broke while bombed on the hooch.

Look how crooked that finger is. At the time he was like, “Guys I’m fine it’s no big deal!” Your sideways finger would beg to differ, bud.