May 14, 2012
Oh, Emily Maynard. Sweet, sweet St. Emily. What are you possibly thinking? 7 years ago you lost your fiance (race car driver Ricky Hendrick Bobby) in a terrible airplane crash, only to learn days later that you were pregnant with little Ricky Bobby, Jr. Somehow you managed to hold it together in the face of immense tragedy and raised your daughter on your own — so admirable! so strong! But then you suffered some sort of hideous head injury and decided that what you needed to do was find Ricky Bobby, Jr. a new daddy on a reality television dating show. And so you joined the cast of bachelorettes on Brad Womack’s (Wombat’s) season of The Bachelor, and wouldn’t you know it, but the giant be-foreheaded Wombat chose you out of 25 women to be his wombat bride. YOU MARRY WOMBAT, he bellowed at you in South Africa. YOU WOMBAT WIFE. However, after giving it some thought, you realized that you might not actually want to spend the rest of your life with a set of talking abs, and the engagement was called off. Sadface. (Not really sadface).
And that’s where this saga should have ended, St. Emily! You really should have counted your blessings and walked away and been done with this entire ridiculous process! BUT YET HERE YOU ARE, PUTTING ON A SEQUINED DRESS AND HANGING OUT WITH CHRIS HARRISON AND PREPARING TO MEET A BUNCH OF STRANGE MEN IN SOME COMPLETELY MISGUIDED EFFORT TO FIND “LOVE.” DID YOU LEARN NOTHING? Gah.
As we are reminded of this entire saga, St. Emily and Ricky Bobby Jr. feed geese (while Ricky Bobby Jr. shrieks “DUCKIES!!!” at them), St. Emily sits alone on her couch, St. Emily sits near a fountain in an office park and stares wistfully into the distance, and St. Emily goes horseback riding because it’s a clever visual metaphor for “getting back on the horse,” wherein the horse = lantern-jawed strangers and the “getting back on” = dating. St. Emily explains that she’s been engaged twice now, and that “being engaged is something really special and something that should be saved for the person you are going to marry.” And for most people, it is. Oh, sweet St. Emily. Bless your dumb little heart. You are so pretty. So pretty, so sweet. And that’s probably plenty.
Chris Harrison appears and reminds us that TRAGEDY! TRAGEDY AND WOMBATS AND TRAGEDY. Therefore, this season of The Bachelorette will be filmed in St. Emily’s hometown of Charlotte, N.C. until it isn’t and they pack everyone up and fly to Europe and some island paradise somewhere. Because there is no way they are going to spend three months in North Carolina, come on.
Hey! Here are the video packages of some of the men whose names we should actually try to remember this season:
Kalon is from, OH BROTHER, Houston. FIRST OF ALL, what kind of name is Kalon? Is he from Krypton? Secondly, what is a “luxury brand consultant,” aside from a pretentious made-up job title? Kalon seems to spend a lot of time at West Ave. smirking at ties, is very impressed with his past as a womanizer and takes helicopters everywhere. “Helicopter Chauffeur, I’m want nachos. Fly me to Ninfa’s,” he commands. He is just a treat.
Ryan from Georgia is a former football player who now owns a sports training facility where he yells at 6-year-olds and makes them flip tractor tires. His hair looks like he just took off a football helmet, and for all I know, he did, but I can tell you already this is going to be a long season of me yelling at Ryan’s hair.
Tony from Oregon spends his time staring seriously at piles of lumber and dragging his small son out into the rain. He, like St. Emily, is a single parent, which makes him sad and do things like grow questionable facial hair and use the whole “what has two thumbs and is going to blah blah blah? this guy!” bit, which, if it ever was funny — which I’m not sure it ever was — it certainly is not now, and just, geez. Tone it down, lumber guy.
Lerone is “in” Los Angeles real estate, whatever that means, and keeps talking about how awesome St. Emily is for being a single mother. Lerone owns a teensy chihuahua which puts him very high on my list.
David is a singer/songwriter from New York who believes he is the right man for St. Emily because he writes songs about finding true love. “EMILY EMILY EMILY EMILY EMILY. OOOOOOOOOOH,” he bellows as an example of some of his amazing songwriting skillz. David explains that St. Emily is the “quintessence of, like, perfect beautiful woman. We have all these disparate facets that ultimately converge,” because someone got a thesaurus for his birthday.
Charlie is a big golden retriever of a guy from Tennessee who suffered a brain injury after a balcony he was on collapsed. Charlie also has a hilarious dog, and says that he “may have had a head injury but there’s nothing wrong with [his] heart.” HAHAHAHAHAHA. Yes.
Jef not only misplaced one of the “F”s in his name, he is also a skateboarding CEO of a bottled water company in Salt Lake City who happens to look like Justin Bieber with Brian Setzer’s hairdo. He is cute and seems like a nice enough guy, but there is ABSOLUTELY NO WAY I’m going to be able to take this garden gnome seriously.
Arie is a very handsome race car driver from Arizona that the producers included in the cast as the second part of an elaborate and cruel prank on St. Emily that they began during Wombat’s Bachelor season. GET IT? BECAUSE YOUR FIANCE WAS A RACE CAR DRIVER? AND HE’S DEAD? HA HA HA, GOT YOU, ST. EMILY! GOT YOU HARD.
Put on your sparkly dress, St. Emily, it’s time to meet the bachelors. St. Emily burbles at Chris Harrison some more about her tragedy, Ricky Bobby Jr., and how she wants to make all the babies, and Chris Harrison is like, “Great, that’s super,” before shoving her out into the doorway to receive her suitors.
Sean is from Dallas who bears a certain wombatishness and has nothing of interest to say to St. Emily.
David the Bard from New York City smarms all over the place and leaves a slime trail as he heads inside.
Doug from Seattle immediately mentions that he has an 11-year-old son back home, because STRATEGY.
Jackson from Illinois drops to a knee and repeats some line from a fortune cookie about life not being measured by how many breaths we take but by how many moments take our breath away, and you just know he spent the last three days committing that to memory. Get up off the ground already, Confucius.
Joe from Los Angeles just stands in the driveway and screams at St. Emily for a while. Bring it down a notch, Yelly. And get a haircut. And quit dancing. Gah.
Arie the Race Car Driver (Cal Naughton, Jr. from here on out) clearly piques St. Emily’s interest.
Kyle from Long Beach has so little going for him that St. Emily can only think to compliment him on his tie.
Chris from Chicago says some sincere nonsense about asking his father for romantic advice.
Aaron the biology teacher from Long Beach enters wearing some giant glasses for some reason? Which he takes off? And makes a limp joke about having chemistry with her? Lame line is lame.
One hundred thousand years ago, a caveman was out hunting in the plains, when he slipped and fell into a crevasse, where he was frozen solid. In 1988 2012, he was discovered by scientists and was thawed out. He then attended law school became a grain merchant and became … Alessandro! (I know you’ve been frozen for one hundred thousand years, Unfrozen Caveman Grain Merchant, but St. Emily’s eyes are up here. Thanks.)
Jef (Justin WannaBieber) arrives via skateboard, riding behind the limo, because SIGH. LONG SEASON. He tosses the skateboard into the bushes and this delights St. Emily for some reason.
Lerone immediately starts burbling at St. Emily about how impressed he is that she’s a single mom. St. Emily is unimpressed.
Stevie is an MC from Staten Island who arrives carrying a boom box (No.) wearing a bright green shirt (No.) and flailing his limbs around in something that is supposed to approximate dancing (No.).
Charlie follows Stevie, hoping that St. Emily doesn’t expect him to also dance like a spaz on her behalf. She assures him that she does not.
Tony arrives with a shoe on a pillow because ABC/Disney told him to something about his name being “Charming?” HANG ON, MY EYEBALLS ARE STUCK IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD FROM ALL OF THE ROLLING. She puts on the plastic heel, because what girl doesn’t want to look like a stripper? and all of this comes off so much less “charming” than “foot fetishist.” Ick.
Randy from Hermosa Beach, CA arrives in grandma drag, which is just a very, very good idea that not only is well-executed, but is definitely something he will never regret. Other things he will not regret: his cool vest.
Nate from Los Angeles smells good, according to St. Emily.
Brent from Fresno thinks he’s clever by wearing a name tag. This is not as clever as Brent thinks it is.
John from St. Louis makes his friends call him “Wolf.”
Travis from Mississippi comes bearing an ostrich egg which he claims is a symbol of St. Emily and Ricky Bobby Jr. and how he is going to take care of them. He shall carry this ostrich egg around with him everywhere, because there’s nothing more romantic than a man performing 9th grade health class project.
Michael from Austin is operating under the delusion that ladies are impressed by guitar picks.
Jean-Paul from Seattle is super-excited but doesn’t know anything about St. Emily. He’s also super-excited to have purchased Bruce Jenner’s original face off of Ebay that one time.
Alejandro es de Colombia y hace que el sexytalk en español que San Emily no understnad pero es evidente que encuentra interesantes.
Ryan and his Grandpa Simpson head arrive. He pulls a cute stunt where he pulls out his “notes” which read “You are beautiful” on one side and “I’m so nervous” on the other, which even I can admit was kinda charming. Still, grow out your hair a little, and quit wearing your football helmet all day, Ryan.
And then a helicopter arrives and Kalon hops off. All the other men are all, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” and how can you blame them, because GAH. GROSS. NO, RICHIE RICH, STOP IT.
And that’s it. That’s the pool from which St. Emily will find her husband next financé. Chris Harrison reminds her that she has a First Impression Rose to hand out, and then shoves her into the fray. Upon her arrival, the men let out what can only be described as a catcall, which CHARMING, GUYS, and St. Emily flusters a few GAH-LEES and thanks them for being there.
St. Emily is then pulled from one man to the next and feels Iron Man’s titanium face, learns that Brent is living in some sort of Brady Bunch nightmare with his 6 (!!1!1!) kids, receives bobblehead dolls, and has awkward conversations about skateboarding. Doug the Dad takes St. Emily aside and presents her a letter that he forced his 11-year-old son to write her. St. Emily says she wants to CAH-RYE about seven times, and pronounces him a Good Father.
Kalon spends his time with her smirking and talking about being raised by a single mother, when Sean interrupts, asking if it’s a good time to steal St. Emily. NOPE, says Kalon, setting off a SCANDAL amongst the other men, who clutch their pearls and fan their faces at Kalon’s rudeness. SOMEONE FETCH PAULY D. SOME SMELLING SALTS.
Cal Naughton, Jr. takes St. Emily aside to explain that, ha ha! he’s a race car driver. For a moment, just a flicker of a moment, St. Emily’s eyes twitch, but she collects herself for the cameras and declares that this is No Big Deal. Why, she just luuhves race car draivin’, Silly!
And with that, she collects the First Impression Rose and delivers it to Doug the Dad because he was the least afraid to exploit his kid for this. Pauly D. pronounces his approval of this decision. THANKS, PAULY D.
Time for the rest of the roses, guys!
Rose #1 Chris
Rose #2 Ryan
Rose #3 Kalon Dru-Zod
Rose #4 Cal Naughton, Jr.
Rose #5 Charlie
Rose #6 Justin WannaBieber
Rose #7 Nate
Rose #8 Sean
Rose #9 Joe
Rose #10 Kyle
Rose #11 Aaron
Rose #12 Alejandro
Rose #13 Wolfboy
Rose #14 Unfrozen Caveman Grain Merchant
Rose #15 Michael
Rose #16 Pauly D.
Rose #17 Tony
Rose #18 Travis
Goodbye, David! It’s a shame we shall never hear more of your glorious transformative illustrious refrains, nor shall your and St. Emily’s divergent aspects ever conclusively amalgamate. “OOOOOOOOOH.”
Goodbye, Lerone! You were very cute, much cuter than Unfrozen Caveman Grain Merchant or Pauly D. for example, but if all you talked about was how hot it is that St. Emily is a single mom, I kinda don’t blame her for sending you away.
Goodbye, Mr. Brady! I’m sorry you are so certain no one wants to marry you and your 6 (!!1!1!!) kids! They probably do not!
Goodbye, Bruce Jenner’s Old Face! You were a person!
Goodbye, Jackson and your ridiculous and kinda gross abdomen which you felt you needed to show to the world!
And Goodbye Grandma Randy! That was such a very good decision to dress up in tear-away old lady drag!
Things to expect this season: castles, crying, archery, crying, cliff-diving, crying, sailing, crying, some country singer, crying, St. Emily yelling at someone to GTFO (!!!!!!), crying, Dolly Parton, crying, carousels. STOCK UP ON THE BOX WINE, YOU GUYS, THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG 10 WEEKS.
Post Script: BEWARE, LADIES. THERE HAS BEEN A WOMBAT SIGHTING IN HOUSTON. IF YOU ENGAGE HIM, HE WILL MAKE YOU GO BUNGEE JUMPING OR RACE CAR DRIVING OR CLIMB DOWN A HIGH-RISE BUILDING ALL THE WHILE GRUNTING MONOSYLLABICALLY AT YOU ABOUT HIS DADDY ISSUES. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
The Bachelorette airs Mondays at 7 p.m. on ABC, and requires copious amounts of red wine to get through.
This post originally appeared on the Hearst site Chron.com.