Catching up

Yesterday was Canada Day for us Cannucks, so Hil and I took the day off and head to the beach with our sister-in-law Jess and got a solid hour and a half of sun before it became overcast and quite chilly. An adventure nonetheless! But today, we’re back in business, as you can tell by Hilary’s blog below about poor Ace Knute (pronounced Ka-nute, yes, shameful) Johnson. And since nothing since the birth of North West could top such a ridiculous name, I’m going to chat about last night’s Bachelorette and generally catch you all up.

As you all know, the hapless Desiree Hartsock has been trying to find televised and true everlasting love.

Last night the crew was in Barcelona, meandering about, eating tapas (as a woman who looked strikingly like Helen Mirren sat and glowered in the background), playing soccer (Juan Pablo’s ideal date), and sketching thin naked men. Most of their time, however, was consumed with James drama as the two skinny guys (Drew and Casey) accused James of saying that if he makes it to top four before being eliminated, he could become the next bachelor. James never denies that he says this rather disrespectful (if not practical) thing, and then Des gets involved and everybody cries and shouts and is generally upset. James for one becomes a veritable fountain of tears when chatting with Des, claiming that they guys are, and I quote, “ganging up” on him. There were too many tears. I found it puzzling that somebody could actually cry that much. It’s not fun watching a bro cry. I suspect he had had too much to drink.

In the end, she’s got five men left, none of which are ginormous triangles, having sent most of the bros home. There’s Drew, who has gorgeous eyebrows and is suspected of possibly being gay, not by Des, but mostly just by my friends. Brooks, who looks a bit like a more hygienic Russell Brand, who Des thinks is “SOOO funny” but he’s not, though he’s easy going and smiley. Next there’s Chris who is generally quite normal looking and sweet, but has written and read FAR too much poetry on national television. There’s Michael, the federal prosecutor who has a nose like a garden gnome and an aggressive personality (he is a federal prosecutor after all), but who is sweet with Des, even if he is too smart for her. And finally, there’s the shirtless man (Zach) who is generally shirtless and tanned. She said goodbye to James (who will likely never become the bachelor now), Casey, and Juan Pablo. Poor Juan Pablo. All he wanted was a little love.

Next week every single man cries an awful lot (taking a cue from James), as spectacular meltdowns are had by all. We’ll be back in business blogging and tweeting, so join in and follow along!

~ Julia Maurice Sabre-Ocean

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