When you think of summer camp, what delightful memories come to mind? Sunshine-filled days spent frolicking in the lake? Glue-speckled arts & crafts masterpieces your parents would later tack to the fridge? Physical combat onslaughts that pitted you against desperate strangers as you fought to win the heart of a 26-year-old virgin?

Okay, so maybe some of us went to camp as eager preteens, and maybe some of us went as desperate twenty-somethings sacrificing our last ounces of self-worth for a fleeting claim to fame on national TV.

Tomato, tomahto.

But don’t worry, fearless readers, if you haven’t caught this episode yet, it’s not just 2 hours of a really sad, pathetic, embarrassing group date segment at Camp Colton—you also get endless scenes of Colton showering, 30-somethings acting like teenagers and 20-somethings acting like aggressive fetuses, women banging pots and pans together for attention, and Megan Mullally and Nick Offerman weaving poetry about delicate rose petals and gratuitous fucking.

What a time to be alive. Let’s dive in.

You Never Forget Your First Time
I’m not sure if you know this, but Colton is a virgin, and this entire season is one constant punch line about how hilarious it is for a 26-year-old man to be a virgin in today’s day and age. And if you did happen to forget it, again, you’ll be reminded once a second every second for every fucking second this show is on the air.

That being said, the Producers did decide to attempt to do something nice for us, and they invited Queen Megan Mullally and King Nick Offerman to come do one of the weirdest, most uncomfortable group dates in the history of the Bachelorverse. 

Off on this misadventure are Funfetti Vagina Demi, Gen Z Hannah G, Onyeka the Snorkeler, Elyse the Alaskan, Tracy the Fashion Police, Bri the Fake Australian, Nicole with the Nose Job, and Catherine aka Krystal 2.0.

Now Megan and Nick are comedy royalty, but their deadpan schtick about women’s blossoms and rousing climaxes really missed the mark, because this isn’t an audience delighting in word play—this is an audience that has 10 brain cells between the 25 of them, and they wouldn’t know deadpan it if hit them in the face with a cast iron pan. 

Anyway, this nightmare further unfolds as they women learn they’re going to have to give some kind of stand-up routine and/or emotional one-woman show to an audience of 200 sad saps roped into this bullshit. They all fret, other than Demi, who squeals about how the other women will talk about innocent first times, while she’s gonna go right in for The Sex TM. Yawn.

Colton, of fucking course, tells the captive—I mean captivated—audience about the first time he told anyone he was still a virgin. Apparently this went super smoothly, despite the fact that 1) he told a fellow athlete, and 2) he’s lying out of his ass, but okay. 

Now it’s the women’s turns!

Honestly they were all so fucking boring with the exception of a horrifying few:

• Elyse says that right this very second is the first time she’s ever dated a younger man, which is fucking hilarious, because she’s not dating Colton, she’s on a reality TV show with 20+ other women vying for his heart and v-card. 

• Tracy rambles on about going after a virgin in college and then getting punched in the face by another girl and then I think threatens to punch out the rest of the contestants?

• Demi screeches for a bit about how this is the first time she won the Group Date Rose and then sashays off the stage, marching right up to Colton to make out with him in front of the other women and the audience of 200 randos.

The other women are I N C E N S E D by this, I tell you! Incensed! How dare Demi kiss Colton in front of them! Doesn’t she know the rules of this show? Wait, what show are we on again?

But the horror doesn’t end there. When the women get back to the Mansion, Demi has the AU-DA-CI-TY to touch the Group Date Rose and taunt the other women about how she’s going to get it. MY GOD, THE HUMANITY!

Tracy has a nervous breakdown at this point, because it is All Just Too Much for her. She claims she’s slightly sick to her stomach, and I’m pretty sure she gets teary eyed at that point. 

Look, Demi makes me homicidal as well, but that’s nothing to cry about. Just drown her in the toilet or something, girl has to weigh 50 pounds, tops, and she’s like 4’7”. She’ll fit fine. But no, Tracy can’t even manage something as easy, breezy, Covergirl as homicide, and instead spends the rest of the night panicking about the Touching of the Rose. 

If I had been drinking, I would’ve chugged an entire bottle right then and there, but alas, I was freshly off a plane from Iceland, jet lagged out of my mind, and dealing with a hell of a head cold. So I chugged my entire bottle of NyQuil and hoped for the sweet, sweet release of death.

Sadly, it didn’t come. Instead, I had to listen to Demi come over and win the Crown of Passive Aggression as she told Tracy how much she admired her, smirking like an evil little chipmunk the entire time. 

Demi then declares to the cameras that "haters gonna hate. I’m not worried about it, because there’s no advantage to being an older woman here.” Because 31 is, apparently, ancient. I know this, because I’m 33 and currently sitting in my soiled Depends. Goddamnit, I should’ve had kids so I’d have someone to take care of me during my twilight years.

Speaking of other decrepit beings, Elyse the Other Ancient One (also 31) gets some time with Colton and waxes on about the Cougar Den, aka the wing of the Mansion where all of the 27-years-old-and-older women have made their home. 27 and older. Let that sink in for a minute.

That pain aside, and in a delightful twist of fate at the expense of fucking Demi, Elyse gets the Group Date Rose, and our resident toddler suffers immensely with the knowledge that she didn’t come out on top this round. 

Roll Tide
The next morning, as dawn reluctantly lit upon Casa de Bachelor, the remaining girls fret over who’s going to get the first 1:1 date. Hannah Alabama is basically having a coronary in her hopeful excitement, screaming on about how it’s her birthday (I assume she’s turning 16) and how this would be the perfect birthday present. Oh, my sweet summer child.

Well, Hannah Alabama, your wish has come true—you get the first 1:1 date! But be careful what you wish for.

Colton shows up in a Jeep or something, and they bounce off into the desert, where they pop open a bottle of bubbly and proceed to stare awkwardly at each other for the next 15 hours. Colton proposes a toast, and Hannah appears to have a fucking stroke. She seemingly forgets what words are and stutteringly hems and haws, finally managing to eke out that, once again, it is Her Birthday. 

Colton basically tells the camera he’s gonna drop her faster than a ton of 30-somethings if she can’t get her shit together. I support this, Colton.

To break the horrifically awkward silence, Colton suggests they get into the nearby hot tub, because of course there’s a random ass hot tub right there in the middle of fucking nowhere. If there’s anything the Producers love more than voyeuristic shower shots of Colton, it’s random ass hot tubs in places where hot tubs should never belong.

Dripping with relief, Hannah scampers into the hot tub and then continues to fuck everything up. Colton tries to calm her down and give her the benefit of the doubt, saying he knows how intimidating it can be to open up with all of the cameras on you and all of the people around you, but she doesn’t relax and agree. Instead, she prattles on in fits and starts, and then promptly interrupts him to claw an eyelash off his face.

Romance, people. Romance. 

I really hoped Colton was going to send her home right then and there, but alas, we were treated to interspersed scenes of Caelynn shit-talking Hannah hard. Remember, the two competed at the Miss USA Pageant and apparently were temporary roomies and besties…that is, until Caelynn was crowned Runner Up, and Hannah didn’t place. Enter: Hannah’s deep emotional insecurity issues. The friendship fell apart, and Hannah became a prime candidate for Colton’s misguided love and attention.

No wonder she didn’t place at Miss USA—she literally can't speak off the cuff, she's awkward AF, she can't function under stress, and she's terrible in front of an audience. But forget all of that, because The Drama is a’ brewin’, and Hannah will definitely live to see at least one more day.

This is proven true as the two saunter off for the dinner portion of their date. They walk past the creaking, rust-laden hull of what appears to be an ancient battle ship, and Colton oohs and aahs in appreciation. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful,” he says stupidly, pathetically. 

This is, of course, their final destination, because why the fuck wouldn’t they have dinner aboard this death ship?

Hannah finally relaxes and admits why she was so awkward in the hot tub—she wanted to ask Colton why he’s a virgin! How utterly shocking! Colton falls for it, because he’s a fucking idiot, and then the Producers jam the age-old woman-shaming mentality of virginity down our tortured gullets. 

Hannah tells Colton that she wanted to save herself for marriage, but didn’t, and now she’s filled with pain/guilt/sadness over the fact that she can’t give her virginity to the person she marries. 

Look.

People.

Let me reiterate this: There’s nothing wrong with waiting until marriage to have sex. Or waiting until you’re in love to have sex. Or waiting until you’re in like to have sex. Or waiting until after the first course of the first date to have sex. Literally whatever the fuck you want to do, do it.

But it’s only women who have this insane amount of fucked up pressure put on themselves to be *~pure~* for their future spouses. No one gives a flying fuck about a man’s virginity. No one gives a flying fuck about Colton’s virginity. He’s not some meek lamb fretting about wanting to save his male rosebud as a gift to his future bride, he’s just a commitment-scared baby man who waited too long and now is so terrified of dipping it in that he’s built it up into something it’s not.

Your virginity isn’t a precious gift for a man. Your virginity is yours, to do whatever the fuck you please with it. Fuck no one. Fuck one man. Fuck 5 men. Fuck 500 men. Do whatever the fuck you want, with whomever the fuck you want, and stop playing into the idea that we are somehow dirty or broken or what the fuck ever if we have fun riding that pony, in the immortal pseudo-words of Ginuwine. 

Anyway.

Pleased by this sexist, fucked up narrative on women’s sexuality, Colton is happy enough to swap some smooches and give Hannah her Date Rose. Fireworks go off, because this is the Bachelorverse, and two horrible people that would make a horrible couple smile grimly as the lights flash before their vapid, vacant eyes. God, I hate this fucking show.

Wet Hot American Summer
Finally, it’s time for Camp Colton! Which is a cursed sentence I never thought I’d ever type, but here the fuck I am. At least we’re not further debating virginity, at least for the next 10 seconds.

Alex the Dog Rescuer, Erika “The Nut” McNutt, Miss Carolina Caelynn, Sydney of the String Quartet, Tayshia that one who fittingly rode Colton without getting any action, Nina the Kristina, Kirpa with the French Braid, Caitlin the Cherry Popper, Courtney the Sweet Georgia Peach, and Never-Been-Kissed Heather are viciously forced into two opposing teams (masterfully dubbed Red and Yellow) and pitted against each other in such aggressive feats of arms as Duck, Duck, Goose and badminton.

Colton makes a shuttlecock joke, and I instantly take a vow of celibacy. Goodbye, modern world, I can’t handle you anymore. I’m becoming whatever the Jewish equivalent of a nun is, and I’m departing this wretched place.

Anyway, Billy fucking Eichner then screeches up in a golf cart with Papa Chris Harrison, and promptly asks Colton if he’s gay. Colton sort of blinks and looks wondrously around, as if pondering this question for the very first time. If this is the precursor to that ludicrous scene of him flinging himself over a fence and running off into the darkness of a corn field later this season, then I am SO IN FOR IT.

The rest of this date is boring as all fuck, however. Courtney slavers to the cameras about how her team is going to win or else (spoiler alert: they lose), there’s the world’s lamest tug-of-war game, and Team Yellow is sent back to the mansion in shame while Team Red gets to spend the night en masse with Colton.

The jilted Team Yellow and the rest of the women at the mansion freak the fuck out about Team Red getting to spend the night with Colton, each and every one of them crying to the cameras and to each other about the possibility of someone swiping Colton’s v-card that very evening.

LADIES. COLTON ISN’T GOING TO FUCK ANYONE TONIGHT. PROBABLY NOT ANYONE THIS SEASON. PROBABLY NOT ANYONE EVER. GET YOUR FUCKING SHIT TOGETHER.

Nothing of any real interest happens for the rest of the evening. Heather does blurble out to Colton that she’s a Kiss Virgin, to which Colton is kind and compassionate. She blinks enticingly up at him, certain that he’s going to smile and bestow her Very First Kiss upon her lips…to which he doesn’t. lmao. He gives her hand a sad, awkward squeeze, and thus is the sad tale of Heather. 

Caelynn talks about having encephalitis as a child, and then sucks face with Colton.

Heather then gets the Group Date Rose, because we are all the product of Original Sin.

The Rose Ceremony
After such a lackluster episode, I’m praying to be graced with delicious drama at the Cocktail Party, but of fucking course my wish doesn’t come true. My wishes never come true. Rather than being 33 and heir to the fortune of a 99-year-old Sugar Daddy who I never had to actually touch, I’m just 33, regular divorced without a giant windfall, and I spend like, 3 days out of the week blogging, researching, and Tweeting about the fucking Bachelorverse. 

What does go down at the Cocktail Party? Let’s see:

• Onyeka interrupts Sydney’s time with Colton by blasting an airhorn and screaming about how she’s “horny” (who the fuck keeps giving her these props??)

• Sydney gets her revenge by first slamming what appears to be a spatula against a muffin tin, but Onyeka won’t budge, so she then comes back slamming what I think is a meat tenderizer against a giant mixing bowl

• Demi sashays downstairs in a bathrobe and pulls Colton upstairs to see her Fantasy Closet (?) but in reality she just gives him a shitty back rub while wearing a short cocktail dress under her robe. Jesus fucking Christ, she can’t even make this exciting

• Tracy cries more about the Demi Situation, sobbing into a scarf in her room for most of the evening

The women are all so scandalized by Demi having the audacity to wear a bathrobe and pull Colton away for some alone time. 

LADIES. WHAT THE FUCK SHOW DO YOU THINK YOU’RE ON. DEMI IS A DIET VILLAIN, THIS IS NOTHING. MAN THE FUCK UP ALREADY, JESUS.

God this season sucks so fucking much. I don’t even care who gets a rose or not, I just want this to end already. 

“Does she not have parents??” demands one gobsmacked contestant, which is extra delicious because remember, they did that whole montage of Demi happily discussing her mother who’s in federal prison for embezzlement.

Finally, we move onto the actual Rose Ceremony.

The Rose Winners
Elyse the Ancient Alaskan, Hannah Alabama, and Never-Been-Kissed Heather are already safe with their various roses. Joining them are:

• Tayshia that one who fittingly rode Colton without getting any action

• Conspicuously Absent This Episode Cassie

• Miss Carolina Caelynn

• Courtney the Sweet Georgia Peach

• Demi the Demon

• Nicole of the Nose Job

• Fucking Kirpa

• Gen Z Hannah G

• Catherine aka Krystal 2.0

• Bri the Fake Australian

• Sydney of the String Quartet

• Onyeka the Horny

• Katie the Gym Dancer

• Caitlin the Cherry Popper

• Nina the Mute

• Tracy the Tearful Fashion Police

Demi spends most of the Ceremony inwardly panicking because she’s not picked first. Tracy gets teary eyed (again) and looks like a string of wet seaweed stuffed wiltingly inside a cocktail dress. Catherine tries to blink, but her plastic surgery won’t let her. 

The Rose Losers
Sent packing are:

• Alex B the Dog Rescuer

• Annie, who I don’t remember in the slightest

• The Nut #RIP

• Angelique?

I literally do not care about any of these women. Winners or losers. I hate them all. 

Before we’re finally set free from this gilded cage of horrors, we’re forced to watch a quick snippet from the rest of this season. We see Colton once again bodily hurl himself over a fence, in between crying spurts; we see women blithely wondering if he’ll lose his virginity in [insert overseas location here]; and we do, at least, see the horrifically hilarious scene of Hannah flipping out about what I can only assume is Caelynn.

“There’s a beautiful monster inside of me, and the beast is about to come out,” she vehemently shouts, and then proceeds to weirdly, breathily growl, much in the way that a young lion cub would growl as it attempts to show its parents it’s finally big enough to stray outside the den without them, mere moments before it’s eaten by a larger predator.

Until next week!