Tag Archives: the bachelor

The Welcome Back Party

Herrooo old friends!!! I’m going to be totally honest and tell you that I have no good excuse for going AWOL for a hot minute. Lucky and I have been talking for a few months about resurrecting the blog because we’re both kind of in the same place in our lives and we’ve got some things planned in the next few months that will probably be semi-entertaining to read about, so we thought better now than never! I just know I really haven’t been up to much the last couple of years and my life would have been SO boring to read about, unless you’d love to read about me trotting around the country drinking with my friends or recaps of Teen Mom and The Bachelor, in which case – I’m your girl!

After the whole Nutter Butter breakup and my failed attempt at dating a super-hot guy fresh out of college 2 years ago, I decided that I was tired of guys treating me like I was disposable and dating needed to be my last priority, so I stopped dating. It wasn’t long before it became really apparent to me that when you’re in your late 20s and you stop dating, that also means you stop having sex (side note: that doesn’t mean I didn’t TRY to have sex. I did try, with a really hot guy in the Navy that I met while I was out celebrating my 29th birthday. It is surprisingly hard to get a guy to just hook up with you and promise to never call you again.) When I came up with this plan I was about to turn 28 and hadn’t been without a guy since I was 14. I was serial dating all the wrong guys, knowing they were the wrong guys, but continuing to date them because I didn’t know how to be alone. And, what girl in her 20s doesn’t think she can rid a guy of all his bad habits? The stuff that I let those douchers get away with doing to me is so shameful, and I finally realized that if I didn’t take the time I needed to figure out who I was without a boyfriend, I would continue to date these awful guys and would probably end up married to and then divorced from one of them. If this is the part where you expect me to tell you that I finally met Prince Charming (See: Neal Bledsoe), then look away now, because that didn’t happen. I’m still single, but more stable and [I would hope] able to make better decisions. And when I say “better decisions,” I mean in the long run, I’m totally not opposed to bad decisions that are short term/one night stands with hot guys because… 2 years.

Also, this isn’t a post about self-discovery. I mean, come on, look who you’re talking to here: I’m still totally inappropriate and get way too drunk with my friends, albeit a lot less frequently now that we’re maturing. I’m still not really sure what I want to do with my life, but I finally realized that I’m not going to figure it out by dating assholes that cheat on me and have the audacity to manipulate me into thinking I deserved it. LOLZ – the fact that those things ever happened is so stupid, but it makes me pretty happy to know it’s all documented on this blog.

The whole “I’m not dating at all” concept is perplexing to basically everyone I tell. All my friends and family have tried to set me up so many times, like SO many times, these last 2 years and would then get super offended when I turned down the offer because they don’t understand why I would choose to be alone while I’m in my prime baby making years. Uh, maybe because guys are man whores and I don’t feel like being emotionally drained and worrying about STDs all the time? I don’t know! I’ve ruined a few friendships with guy friends who thought this stint of singledom would be the best time to finally ask me out. I know telling someone not to take it personal is almost always bullshit, and it is still total bullshit in my case because of course if the perfect guy came along (See: Neal Bledsoe above) I wouldn’t have turned him down, but I wasn’t about to waste my time or theirs when I already knew I wouldn’t be that into it. I’m pretty sure my family thinks I’m a lesbian (as long as Neal is still out there that’ll never happen) since I’m not married and don’t have a bunch of babies, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re from a small town. My Grandma sat me down for a serious conversation a few months ago about getting artificially inseminated so I could have a family, there’s a cute guy at her church she thinks would do it – and by do it she meant jizz in a cup, not actually fuck me. My guy friends that are married have been pushing me to stay single for as long as possible and live the good life, because once you get married it’s a long road of misery, or at least that’s what they tell me. I overheard my Stepdad telling some other family members that it (my love life) will all be okay because I’ll be able to start catching guys on the next round. What’s the next round? Oh it’s just all the guys that got married and popped out a bunch of babies when they were 22 who are now 30 and getting divorced. Exactly what I want, a divorcee with a bunch of babies. Real talk, it’s kind of fun watching everyone squirm because they can’t figure me out. But, I’m almost ready to start dating again, like seeing one more Nicholas Sparks movie alone and then I’ll date anyone with a pulse almost ready.

P.s. As of today, Neal Bledsoe still has not approved my facebook friend request, but I’m okay with it. A few months ago, after 4 ½ years of persistence, he finally acknowledged my existence on twitter. Small victories.

P.p.s. We just got Instagram: Instagram.com/cocktailsattiffanys

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It’s hottie time.

Well my year is off to a great start… kind of.

I went to Craig’s house for NYE, it was very low-key, but very awesome. Craig and Marcy had declared it a “sausage fest” meaning, every dish we ate included sausage—pork sausage meatballs in the pasta sauce, deer sausage for snacking, and spicy sausage in the queso dip. So, we ate loads of sausage, and drank several (5) bottles of bubbly.

We then listened to super old country music until 2 am because we are cowboys.

I slept until noon and woke up to a glorious new day—Craig said it was his tradition to get wasted on New Year’s Day, because what else are you going to do? So we started in on mimosas and homemade hashbrowns (capped, smothered, with jalapenos and sausage, for my Waffle House-loving readers out there).

We then sat outside, under a propane heater of course, listening to music and getting wasted. I didn’t leave until almost 10 p.m., after I drunkenly sent a Happy New Year’s text to the bachelor, and he never replied.

Horse. Shit.

Anyway, do we all know what starts Monday night??? That’s right, THE (FUCKING) BACHELOR.

So, join me in the usual Twitter bashfest, because this is going to be GOOD (@Cocktailsattiff). It’s Emily’s kind-of-ex, Sean, who I don’t particularly find attractive, but nonetheless he seems nice. Ha!

I am pretty excited. Because I have no life and watching The Bachelor is the closest thing I have to a boyfriend.

Anyway.

Being back at work royally sucks—the only thing getting me through is my latest Justin Bieber music purchase.

Like I said, no life. Here’s to 2013!

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You’re, like, creepy.

I know how much you all missed my Twattering session Monday night during The Bachelor: The Women Tell All. I was really busy getting shit-faced. So now, I’m sitting at work, watching the episode online. And for your reading pleasure, here is my commentary.

The show starts off, of course, with a lil preview of the cat fight to come. But, in true Bachelor fashion, I have a feeling this episode is just going to be a let down.

Next, is a series of “memories” that Brad and Chris Harrison are commenting on. Blah, blah, blah…they show Chantal’s slap when she meets Brad, the carnival date with Ashley, the course of his relationship with “Fangs,” his dates with Shantal N (Las Vegas, the hometown date) in which he said it was the weirdest hometown date (duh), and of course, they discuss Michelle (aka. Cray Cray) and her mysterious black eye.

Oh and then, Chris informs us all that Bachelorettes from previous seasons are “getting together” to talk about it—deeming it the “craziest reunion ever.” Hrm….somehow I think that’s a lie. Why would I care about previous bachelorettes? Oh right, I don’t.

Aaaand we’re back, when Chris announces there will be a second season of Bachelor Pad (I never watched the first one, but I heard it was ridiculous cray cray). This one includes the finest from Jake’s season—Vienna and Roselyn. Two slutty McSluts.

Finally, onto the actual show—the women of this Bachelor. Honestly, I don’t remember half of these ladies. I mean it really doesn’t mean shit unless you’re in the final four.

We kick things off with the first night and the ladies’ first impression. Of course, all the ladies say they love Brad from the moment they saw him and wanted to suck his dick right away. Please.

The conversation quickly turns to the tension in the house among the girls—especially the fued between Rachel and Melissa. I really never did understand the fight and I obviously still don’t.

There were also scenes of “Fangs” and Michelle. And some stupid blonde stands up for Michelle and says “she’s just sarcastic.” No, she’s just a bitch and you don’t want your ass beat. Clearly. The other ladies disagree with the blonde bitch, and the fight begins.

Michelle cries. Ashley cries. It’s pretty stupid.

After that, Chris says it’s “time to settle the fued” between Melissa and Rachel. Melissa is first in the hot seat and she claims her innoscence, while Melissa’s blood is boiling in the group seat. Then some genius is all, “the moral of the story is don’t act like that in front of a guy.”

Well, 90 percent of the shit on this show is everyone acting like a crazy ass fool, so whatever.

Next, Michelle is in the hot seat. She said what everyone says when they’re on a reality show—the show was a misinterpretation of who she is. Yadda yadda yadda. Most of the girls aren’t buying her sob story, so she keeps going on and on saying she did the show for the right reasons—to find love for her and her daughter…which just sounds weird to me.

Ashley (not the annoying one), who got the first rose, is next up. We see the course of her relationship with Brad…and the gawd awful sobbing when she gets rejected.

Next is Annoying Ashley. And we get reminded of the CRAY CRAY that she really is. Her moment in the hot seat was strange. she talks forever about how the relationship failed because of her and she doesn’t know if she was in love or not. Then Chris is all, “I hate to break it to you, but you were in love.” Umm how the fuck would you know?

Finally, it’s Brad’s turn to talk. And within 15 seconds, he reminds me why he’s such a douche when he says, “I promised my significant other that I would only be marginally happy to see all of you.”

Faggot.

Then, he stands up for Michelle, saying he doesn’t think she has a malicious bone in her body. Sure. He has a moment with Annoying Ashley where she apologizes for wasting his time. Brad being Brad…he’s all, no no no it’s fine!!

And now, he says he’s the happiest he’s ever been, and he’s falling more and more in love with “this woman” every day. BARF.

Now, I think I’ve pretty much figured this show out. After watching so many of the seasons, I can see it’s all bullshit. But I will say I was a little disappointed when I read this (Brad Womack’s Ex: He Proposed to Me Before the Bachelor) while getting my hair did yesterday. Google “Brad Womack’s Ex” and you can see the texts he was sending her right before he left for the show and even e-mails he sent her DURING the taping.

UGH. Oh well, don’t forget to join me on Twitter Monday for the finale!

Tonight, my ladies, is my final pole dancing class. We are going to learn the final five tricks in our routine and then get to invite our female friends to come watch our full performances, complete with costumes. I haven’t decided what I should wear yet (I’ve been wearing leggings and a tank to the other classes), but I feel I need something I little sexier for my performance. Thoughts?

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Well hello, John Adam.

Are you guys keeping up with The Bachelor? Because it’s pretty much the highlight of my week. And yes, I realize how much of a loser that makes me.

Here’s my thing with The Bachelor, in general. When I was younger, my mom and I used to get such a kick out of these bitches fighting over a man they “love.” In college, I still watched it, you know, in the sorority house…hrmm.

Okay, and after last season, I swore I wouldn’t watch it. They show these men as soooo perfect, woe is them, they can’t find love, blah blah blah. It’s because they are crazy, selfish, assholes!

But then this season comes along, with Brad Womack (hiss, boo, wwaaaamp) and I was like….OKAY ABC, you’ve sold me yet again! And really, I couldn’t care less about Womack. It’s a good thing he was honest with those whores the first time and said, hey I’m crazy and completely fucked up and it looks like I need counseling for about three years. So have a nice life!

This season, I’m trying to go into it knowing that it’s a show all about ratings, and just hope it entertains me come Monday evenings. And I’m trying to spread the joy with my live Tweet sessions on #The Bachelor, so if you haven’t joined me yet, please do!

Last night’s episode is a perfect example of why the show pisses me off—the dates. Brad takes this chick Ashley to Capital Records to record Seal’s Kiss From A Rose. Really? And of course, she wets herself, and wants to drop her panties right there in the recording studio. Guess what whore bag? He didn’t plan, pay for, or even think about this date AT ALL. Yet, oh wait, she wants to have his children because she sang that song really loud when she was 10. Hmph.

Anyway, this weekend I vowed to myself I was going to do nothing. I had a stressful week last week and I really needed a break. And that’s exactly what I got. I left the house a total of one time to go to a writer’s meeting.

Needless to say, I got plenty of sleep. Yet, every freakin’ time I closed my eyes for sleep, I had some kind of crazy dream! I’ve been known to have weird dreams and remember lots of details about them for days, sometimes years, to come.

But this dream…was just….strange. Because it was pretty real. Imagine the Wayne’s World fingers with the ~*~*~*~*~doo-doo-loo-doo-doo-loo….*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was back in my hometown, and my mom had told me months before that the attorney she works for had a son who was attractive and single. I told her she was crazy, because I lived so far away.

However, I was in town visiting and my friend wanted to take me to a rowing competition. Never been to one of those in my life, but hey! Whatever. She insists we go to a party before the race to have a few drinks.

When we arrive at the party, the entire cast from Jersey Shore is there! But they weren’t the stars from Jersey Shore, they were just typical people. So we have some drinks and head over to this massive arena where the rowing competition is.

Of course, we had nosebleed seats, so I really couldn’t see what the hell was going on. It was people rowing tiny boats in a damn pool, using these giant orange paddles to pull themselves across.

When the race was over, I just wanted to get out of there. So I went for a walk downtown, where my mom’s office is. It was a Sunday, so the office was closed and there were construction workers doing some work on it. Out of a back staircase, walked one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen in my life (or, in my dreams). He was tall, muscular, lightly tanned, with a very close haircut.

When he cleared the stairwell, I went up. I was wandering around the building, a building I haven’t been inside in probably 10 years, but it was exactly how I remembered it—floral wallpaper, cherry wood trim, ornate furniture…and then people were wondering what I was doing there.

Shit!

Just as I was about to explain myself, the hot guy came back.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,”

“So what ARE you doing in here?”

“Well, my mom used to work here…and she was telling me about an attorney’s single son…I saw you outside and I just knew it was you,” I said.

“Really? I was about to send you a text message,” he said (didn’t matter how he got my number).

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“My name is John, but some people call me Adam.”

I woke up genuinely thinking I was going to have a text message on my phone from John Adam. I was very disappointed. Yep, that’s how pathetic my life has become. Dreaming about John Adam. Am I a pathetic single loser, or have I been reading too many romance novels?

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