We bald apes have always struggled with existence. 



Rather than intelligence, what we should look at, like it or not, is how good we are at being stupid. As sad as it is, that seems the naked truth.
We bald apes have always struggled with existence. 



Rather than intelligence, what we should look at, like it or not, is how good we are at being stupid. As sad as it is, that seems the naked truth.
President Trump’s Appointee for Secretary of Education, Corinne, tries to stay on point: “You are rude. You don’t say hi to anyone.You have a skank look on your face. You’re just not nice. It’s just weird and uncomfortable. I know how to get to people like (you). What does that say about your emotional intelligence, bitch?”
Funnily enough, they are conveniently available here: Donald Trump Voodoo Doll
Bachelor star Corinne has it all – crocodile smile, youthful approach, open heart, to say nothing of her naked determination to get the job done. 
“I want to get one,” Corinne quipped. “But just a little one.”
Prodded further, she conceded that her nanny would be vital in all future endeavors. “She knows how to cut my cucumbers just right.”
The Department of Agriculture has the inside track.*
(*Is there supposed to be a caveat at the end of a fake news story? I’m new at this.)
The Bachelor puts itself out there for all the right reasons, especially in constructing anti-logue and character undevelopment. It’s all in the stops and starts, the self-cutting off, the saying of nothing, the wild hand gestures when there are no words.
Corinne: Sorry, no hard feelings. It’s just…(dramatic sweeping hand gestures)…the situation that we’re in. (Pause) Do you have a problem with any of…(angular hand gestures)…of that? 

Taylor: I’m– I’m happy with my time.
Corinne: Good, good. (Pause) And then you re-came in, got your time back.
Taylor: I wanted more, because I was really happy with him.
Corinne: No, Good, okay. As long as there’s…(large circular hand gesture)…no situation about the situation, we’re okay. 
Corinne: Are you okay? You seem a little hesitant about you being okay.
Taylor: No, I think I’m really okay.
I watch The Bachelor for all of the right reasons. I am painfully amused by people making fools of themselves, confessing to devastating breakups, the loss of an alcoholic parent, awkwardly displaying their sensitivity just to make it as a low-level celebrity. 



Beyond the expected demands of not being a criminal, politician or married, The Bachelor requires contestants to sign a document which includes the following:
Rule #6: Applicants must never have had a restraining order entered against them… involving moral turpitude or violence, as defined by the Producer in its sole discretion. 
Rule #9: Each applicant agrees to be recorded 24 hours a day, 7 days a week…by means of open and hidden cameras, whether or not he or she is aware and that such recordings may be disseminated on all media now known or hereafter devised, throughout the Universe in perpetuity. 
In other words, the producers of The Bachelor are free to cast judgement, steal secrets, and lie about anyone on their show for as long as they wish…which begs the question: Is only an ‘x’ required on the signature line?
Unreal, Lifetime Network‘s new fictional reality show based on The Bachelor, has it all wrong. 

Not only is Unreal‘s narrative dull, actually triter than the real thing, but it is founded on the inane premise that there is a star chamber in Reality TV.
The point of The Bachelor isn’t making a deal with the devil but rather sharing in everyone’s common stupidity. 

I feed my guilty pleasure for The Bachelor not because I want to see anyone find “true love” nor participate in a drinking game based on the amount of times a character says, “This is amazing!”, but rather to witness the humorous and pathetic decline of American civilization. 






An issue to consider instead might be the presence of guns in the household of potential mates. Indeed, what if it turned out that one of the contestants had a relative who had a treasure trove of assault weaponry in the home? Would the music turn ominous? Would the bachelorette scowl and flee? Or would she be forced to don her bikini and let her rip? 
I lost interest in Breaking Bad almost immediately – the second episode focused gruesomely on how to dissolve a body – and so missed the finale which, as one friend told me, was “completely awesome”.



There is something remarkably terrifying about the ABC network reality TV show, The Bachelor. 



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