Swashbuckling wenches. Limo-dragging strongwomen. Rage-filled tanks masquerading as Beauty Queens. Endless scenes of Colton’s nipples.

How is it possible that an episode of The Bachelor can be at once so seemingly titillating, and yet be so utterly, painfully, mind-meltingly boring? Doesn’t this sound fun and crazy and awesome (minus the nipples) etc.? And yet it was the complete and utter opposite. 

I mixed NyQuil with wine and waited for the sweet release of death, but alas, our god is not a merciful god, and here we are.

Let’s dive in.

A Pirate’s Life for Me 
We open with all of the women sunning themselves or lazily draped across pool furniture in their bikinis, with the exception of Hannah Alabama, who’s lurking in the shadows wearing leather leggings and a sweater, chugging a cup of hot coffee as she stares at Caelynn with murder in her eyes. 

In case you’ve forgotten, Hannah “Miss Alabama” B and Caelynn “Miss Carolina” as Colton stupidly said, were once the best of friends and even roommates at the Miss USA Pageant, only to have it all viciously fall apart when Caelynn was crowned runner-up and Hannah failed to place at all.

Fucking yawn. 

Anyway, they’re now both battling for Colton’s undying love and affection, because this show isn’t manufactured in the fucking slightest. After all this build up, I anticipate some sort of dramatic release, but remember, folks, this season is all about the complete and utter lack of satisfaction in any fathomable way. Instead there’s just some vague chatter about the coming feud storm, but that’s immediately forgotten because Papa Chris Harrison and the date card are here!

“There will be highs and there will be lows / that’s just the way it goes,” preaches Papa Harrison, dropping those Shakespearean beats as he deals the women their fates.

If that makes no sense, don’t worry, the date doesn’t either. 

On this nightmare adventure are Katie the Gym Dancer, Never-Been-Kissed Heather, Hannah Alabama, Courtney the Sweet Georgia Peach, Kirpa Blessedly Sans French Braid, Tracy the Tearful Fashion Police, Demi the Demon, and Miss Carolina Caelynn, because of fucking course.

Clad in their finest high-waisted yoga pants and midi sports bras, our gaggle of women are bussed to some sort of theatre, where—GASP! Colton has swapped out his damsel in distress schtick for an equally as cringe-worthy Pirate Captain Colton schtick! Avast, ye mateys, because this is hell.

“This is the story of Captain Colton, in search of the greatest treasure life had ever seen: love,” the voiceover threatens us, as Colton lurks in the shadows. 

“Welcome to my pirate ship,” he chirps cheerfully, without a trace of irony. Sadly—or maybe blessedly—there are no jokes about walking the plank.

The women are then draped with bits and pieces of pirate costumes left over from a now-defunct Spirit Halloween location, and are promptly forced to beat each other with foam-wrapped sticks in their quest to win Captain Colton’s uncharted…heart.

The contestants are whittled down to Caelynn and Tracy, while the losers “get to watch from the poop deck over there,” which is the most meta fucking thing this show has ever done. In the background, Demi hurls a gigantic turkey leg.

But back to the action! Caelynn and Tracy smash each other with their sticks for awhile longer, and then Caelynn wins the mad dash up a mast? What the fuck ever, I got up to pour another glass of NyQuil. 

When I got back, Hannah Alabama was complaining endlessly about Caelynn winning, blinking back tears as her arch nemesis strolled off into the darkness with her virgin prize. Hannah keeps endlessly fretting long after the two have disappeared, and we get the first pseudo-taste of “not here for the right reasons” of the season. Drink!

Hannah and Caelynn are the poor man’s Jordan and Chicken David, and I, for one, hate them both.

50 Shades of Fail
Luckily the Battle of the Beauty Queens is temporarily put aside as Colton begins schmoozing his way through the other women. It should be noted that the rest of the group date inexplicably takes place in an antique shop, without any clear indication as to how or why. (Also: this is the exact same antique shop that they went to in Becca’s season. Because why the fuck not.)

Putting that curious tidbit aside, we ricochet back to our leading man and are treated to a stomach-churning scene of Colton endlessly caressing Katie’s leg…right over a large, open wound. Sexy AF.

“There’s no other Katie!” Katie declares, beaming.

Thank god for that.

Next up is some quality time with our resident demon Demi, who’s on another ageist tear. She goes on and on about how badly she feels for the older women in the house, because it must be just terrible to be them, and she really feels for them, and on and on and on and on. Jesus, that little fucking chipmunk can yap. 

She finally shuts the fuck up, but that’s because she’s about to wrench things up to Christian Grey heights. If that sounds horrifically unappealing and the opposite of sexy BDSM, just like Christian Grey himself, that’s because it is. 

She aggressively smells Colton and strokes him, yammering on about his scent, and then promptly tells him she’s going to blindfold him.

“Hoooooo boyyyyy yeeaaaah,” says Colton, causing my vagina to snap shut forever. There are then exceedingly painful scenes of Demi making Colton bend over, and caressing him with…a plastic hand? And then realizing she has no fucking clue how to be a dominatrix, much less to a 6’3” man baby.

I have to say, that caressing scene—fake appendage or not—was fucking creepy and uncomfortable. If a man did that to a woman, holy fuck, would we be freaking out.

Courtney is suitably horrified (and she didn’t even see the blindfolding madness) so she decides to pull Demi aside to tell her that her rather aggressive antics are a bit much for the other women. Demi, because she’s a possessed Polly Pocket, doesn’t give a flying fuck.

Ladies, attempting to parent Demi doesn’t do jack shit. The only way to defeat this monstrosity is to ignore it—ignoring Demi is her kryptonite. Do it. Immediately. 

We blessedly move on from Demi, but unfortunately go right back to the Battle of the Beauty Queens. Colton first canoodles with Caelynn, sucking face and then gushing “I’m so excited for Caelynn and I’s relationship!”

COLTON.

YOU. ARE. NOT. IN. A. RELATIONSHIP. SHE. IS. COMPETING. FOR. YOUR. LOVE. AND. THE. CHANCE. TO. HAWK. FIT. TEA. ON. INSTA. WITH. 25. OTHER. WOMEN. 

Hannah Alabama is, of course, freaking the fuck out the entire time, claiming that people only like one type of person, and that means that Colton can’t possibly be attracted to both her and Caelynn? Ah, the logic of 23 year olds. Foolproof.

Hannah scampers off after Colton the second he’s done with Caelynn, and promptly uses her alone time to go the fuck off on her nemesis. Colton is FLABBERGASTED by this, I tell you—FLABBERGASTED! He can’t seem to believe that two women could possibly not be friends and possibly think the other is a monster.

Welcome to women, Colton. It’s gonna be a long, bumpy ride.

Colton seems utterly crushed by this confusion, and awkwardly pseudo rejects Hannah’s attempts to kiss him and hold his hand, saying instead that he needs some time to think. He hightails it to the producers quarters, where he goes and sulks in the dark for a bit, until Papa Chris Harrison shows up to shake him out of his sadness.

Determined to Figure This Out, Colton finally makes his way back to the group, asking Caelynn to come talk to him. Hannah is SHOOK, y’all, left agape as Miss Carolina seemingly bests her once again. “I’m befumbled!” she says, destroying the English language.

Colton tells Caelynn about all the drama, to which Caelynn of course claim innocence, saying it’s all Hannah. Colton is clearly in physical pain, as his tiny little pea brain can’t seem to grasp the realities of female drama. 

In the end, Caelynn gets the group date rose, Hannah Alabama cries, and hopefully someone took a look at that nasty cut on Katie’s leg, cause that thing might need stitches. 

Because I Got High 
The next morning at the Mansion 2.0, the ladies are thrumming with excitement over who will get the 1:1 date. 

In a rare flash of good fortune, it’s Elyse!

Proving that elderly women can get down with the best of them, she rejoices over her date card, which threatens something about getting thrown into the air. I really, really hoped that the date would solely consist of Elyse and Colton stuffing Demi into a canon and shooting her into Oregon, but we can’t get everything we ask for, can we now.

Elyse and our intrepid v-card carrying member are off on a helicopter flight, to destinations unknown. If I was presented with a helicopter, I would leave the fucking show immediately, because those things are whirling death machines. No thank you.

Our ancient Alaskan doesn’t seem to share the same well-founded terror, however, and off they go! Turns out they’re going to an amusement park in San Diego, where Colton drops a bomb.

“I know you thought this was going to be a 1:1 date,” he says, eyes flashing maniacally, “but it’s actually going to be a group date.”

Jokes on us, however—instead of the other women being unleashed upon this weirdly empty amusement park, it’s instead a group of kids from Colton’s charity! I use that exclamation point genuinely, because I have to give it to Colton—he’s a really fucking good guy for the work that he does, and he’s really fucking cute with those kids.

YEAH, I SAID IT. FIGHT ME.

Anyway, all of the cuteness quickly evaporate as Elyse and Colton rant about each other’s parent-ability scores. Look, I get it—most people get baby fever and want to pop a bunch of kids out, and they’re looking for good partners to help them in that nightmare endeavor. But once—just fucking ONCE—I would love to see a Bachelor(ette) or contestant gush about how much of a great travel partner, adventurer, best friend, book buddy, political partner in crime, what the fuck EVER that isn’t solely a parent. 

For all the sappy “I can tell they’re going to make a great parent!” onslaughts (that are absurd because of course Contestant No. 874 is going to pretend to love kids and show off for the cameras and their love interest), why can’t we have one “I really love how he’ll just want to pick up and travel the world with me!” FFS.

Once the kids are corralled and our two lovebirds get some alone time, Colton dives right in. “I want to know why you are they way you are,” he slurs earnestly.

Hooooo boy, indeed. Please never ask me that, anyone reading this. We do not have enough time or wine or therapy to even crack the tip of that iceberg.

Elyse is actually incredibly open and honest, telling Colton about how her sister—who was pregnant—discovered she had aggressive cancer. She did all she could to carry the baby as long as possible, and while the child luckily survived, her sister passed. It was a raw, heartfelt moment. I actually like Elyse a lot, for all my blustering about hating everyone and everything, and I wanted to give her a big hug after this.

Colton, however, promptly fucks it all up by dragging her off to a massive building where—FUCKING SURPRISE!—there’s a live country concert conveniently going on. Our poor Elyse has to then dance awkwardly in front of a crowd of screaming, fixated nobodies, while an unknown singer screeches in the background. This is why we can’t have nice things, kids.

What Doesn’t Kill You (Probably) Makes You Stronger
Hey, did you guys know COLTON PLAYED FOOTBALL?? Although “played” is a bit of a misnomer, given that his entire careers was being signed to practice squads, released, placed on injured lists, and then an early retirement. Close enough.

But hey, football = athleticism = working out = shirtless-ness = NIPPLES, so you better believe the Producers are gonna milk this for all it’s worth.

So, once again, we open after commercials with an eyeful of Colton nipples, and the women losing their FUCKING MINDS over it. Look, I get it, Colton is ripped, but he’s also Colton, so have some fucking standards.

Off on this flesh fest of a date are Tayshia that one who fittingly rode Colton without getting any action, Nina the Kristina, Catherine aka Krystal 2.0, Sydney of the String Quartet, Onyeka the Horny, Cassie the Finally Not Conspicuously Absent, Nicole of the Nose Job, and Caitlin the Cherry Popper. 

“For every strong man, there is a stronger woman,” prattles the date card, and with that the women are whisked away to a Strongwoman competition, where they’re forced into hilariously out-of-their-abilities feats of physical prowess.

But first, we have to stretch, because sexual innuendo around a virgin is, apparently, fucking hilarious.

“Colton’s no longer a stretching virgin,” one of the women says breathlessly, watching Sydney coax Colton into stretching her further than a used Stretch Armstrong doll.

Oh, and I forgot something bizarre yet glorious—fucking TERRY AND REBECCA CREWS ARE THERE. Honestly, how did the Producers get such amazing celebrity guest stars, when their Bachelor is fucking Colton? The Crews, Megan Mullally, Nick Offerman, Billy Eichner—how fucking much are they paying them? 

After some stretching and an awkward montage of Nicole not being able to do anything even remotely defined as “fitness,” the date actually begins.

Fred Willard is there, because why not. There’s a painful scene of women pushing 100-pound wedding cakes, because marriage is a bunch of PAINFUL FUCKING WORK THAT YOU WANT TO JUST END ALREADY. Other things happen. Caitlin pulls a fucking limo from a belt around her waist. Somehow that doesn’t qualify her for the final three, so instead Sydney, Onyeka, and Catherine then run a Heavy Heart Race, because again, love stinks (yeahhh yeahhh). This consists of sprinting around with medicine balls, and then shoving it onto a post. What the fuck ever.

Onyeka wins, no one cares, and off she goes with Colton in what I’m pretty sure is the same limo Caitlin just got a hernia from pulling.

“If you’re not first, you’re last. Remember that,” growls Onyeka. 

“You don’t want to see your boyfriend kissing another girl in front of you,” whines Sydney, somehow being stupid enough to think that Colton was actually her boyfriend, rather than a 26-year-old stunted toddler that’s hooking up with 25 other women.

Oh and if you had forgotten about that, let ABC remind you, because we’re then treated to a montage of Colton making out with all of the women later that night at the group date. Cool.

I feel like there should’ve been 1:1 time with Onyeka between her winning and the makeout extravaganza, but I don’t remember anything. Must’ve been all the NyQuil. What I do remember, however, is the tragic demise of Caitlin.

Colton seems positively giddy to see Caitlin after the day’s adventures, and honestly, I get it—I, too, would be immensely curious to catch up with someone with admittedly no physical abilities that just dragged a fucking limo. 

He cuddles up with her, and tries to get her to spill some sob story or another, to which she promptly…flounders more aggressively than a flounder out of water. When he continues to poke, asking her what she’s looking for in a man, she blathers on about someone that can go out with with her and her friends, or something as equally inane. Girl, this is NOT the non-parental focus I was talking about.

She looks vaguely panic stricken the entire time, much like Hannah B in the hot tub did, but alas—Caitlin has no pre-packaged drama that the Producers are excitedly milking out, and Colton decides they don’t vibe, and poof, girl is sent packing.

Au revoir, Caitlin, and hope you didn’t completely destroy your back and hips with that whole limo dragging thing. 

Nicole, randomly, gets the group date rose. Whatever.

Bikini Pool Party 
After being forced to bear witness to a commercial for Siesta Key that gave me mesothelioma, we’re back at the Bach Mansh 2.0, where Papa Harrison emerges from the darkness to inform the ladies that Colton knows what he wants, and is going to skip the Cocktail Party. I’m beyond relieved, because it means we can finally boot out a handful of these awful messes, but NOPE. We might not get a Cocktail Party, but by god, we’re getting a POOL PARTAYYYY!

That’s right, back at it are Colton’s nipples and all of the women in bikinis, each splish-splashing as much as they can to garner as much attention from our manhood-crippled bachelor as they can muster. The only vaguely redeeming thing about all of this is watching Katie chug a glass of champagne as she cannonballs into the pool. Props to you, Katie.

At one point Hannah G makes an appearance, and I realize we haven’t seen much of her all episode. She and Colton chat, she tells him she’s concerned she did something because she wasn’t invited on any of this week’s dates, but Colton seems be quite sincere as he tells her they’re solid, and he already knows how he feels about her. I’m beginning to see an Elyse vs. Hannah G showdown in the finale. 

That aside, we make it all of another 30 seconds before The Battle of the Beauty Queens heats up again! Caelynn and Colton wander off for some smooches and girl talk. Caelynn addresses the Hannah Drama, claiming that she has no clue what or why this is going on, and maybe it’s because she placed at the Miss USA Pageant and Hannah didn’t, and Hannah is just toxic, and so on and so forth. Colton makes pained, confused faces, because he just cannot understand any of this. How can two feuding women have such differing stories??

Hannah, watching the two saunter off, has Had. Enough. and finally delivers her much-amped tirade:

“If Caelynn is talking crap about me she better beware. There's a beautiful monster inside of me and today I’m going to have to let it out. There’s a tank of rage and it is full. The beast is about to come out!”

She then roars at poor Heather for an excruciatingly long time. Access Hollywood actually came out and said it was a full 7 seconds. 7 FUCKING SECONDS.

Luckily for Hannah, she gets to unleash that tank full of rage by…not doing that in the slightest. When a befuddled Colton comes to collect her to attempt to figure out what on earth is going on, she just claims that she isn’t toxic, and that Caelynn is the bad one, and it’s all very bland and sad. Just like all of these women. 

She does, finally, half-shout “Just freaking trust me!” And honestly, who couldn’t trust those words?

Colton, apparently. He’s still at a complete and utter loss, having no clue what to do. He just falls apart like he’s never actually met a woman before, and at least THAT we know he’s done. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, COLTON. For fuck’s sake.

FINALLY we’re onto the Rose Ceremony, which is promised to be extra dramatic, etc. etc. Whatever. Caelynn, Elyse, and Nicole are already safe with their roses; joining them are these other sad fucks:

• Gen Z Hannah G

• Tayshia who I’m starting to be unable to remember

• Katie the Champagne Chugger

• Kirpa who I deeply dislike but I don’t really know why

• Sydney the Stretcher

• Demi the Demon

• Tracy the Tearful Fashion Police

• Courtney the Sweet Georgia Peach

• Never-Been-Kissed Heather

• Onyeka the Horny

• Hannah Alabama

“I am ECSTATIC to accept this rose,” says Demi, hiding her cloven hooves beneath her long dress.

Blessedly leaving the house are these sad fucks:

• Bri the Fake Australian 

• Nina the Kristina

• Catherine aka Krystal 2.0

Man, was Catherine a bust or what? She started the season off so strongly as the lead villain, only to be usurped by a female Damien. 

Up Next Episode
Our gaggle of fucking idiots are off to Singapore! “Life’s all about experiencing things for the first time!” someone shouts delightedly, even though we all know that Colton will not fucking get laid in Singapore, or in America, or probably anywhere ever. 

Also, Hannah Alabama inexplicably is shown in the streets of Singapore with a leech on her stomach, which she dubs Caelynn.

Until next week!