An Open Letter To Jake Pavelka, aka The Bachelor

Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake!
Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake!

(Imagine that as a muffled scream the way Anthony Michael Hall screams for Michael Schoeffling when he's trapped under the coffee table in Sixteen Candles.)

Listen, Jake. You are totally cute. You remind me of my c. 1983 Sun Gold Malibu Ken, only your haircut looks less like Velma's from Scooby-Doo and it's not painted onto your head.


You are way cuter than that tubby Jheri curled Bob or geriatric bass fisherman Byron or your immediate predecessor Jason Mesnick, who looked like Enrique Iglesias' love child with Bruce Jenner. Not only are you cute, but you seem like a genuinely nice guy, albeit one who has suspiciously failed at finding love despite being an anatomically perfect Texan pilot (do you have uncontrollable sleep diarrhea or something?) and a person who would willingly go on a show like The Bachelor to find a wife.

But Jake, can I be real with your for a minute? Like really real?

Your taste sucks, dude.

I've watched all episodes now and among the 3 girls you have left only one of them is even remotely OK. You kicked a bunch of decent girls to the curb on the first night and kept around:

1. A woman who in every single scene has Prince's Purple Rain hair!
2. Pre-plastic surgery Jessica Simpson!
3. A girl who suffers from the worst case of Stankface in recorded history!
4. And a "25 year-old" who looks suspiciously like she is two centuries older than that and ready to star in the Lifetime biopic of Judith Light, tentatively titled "I'm the Boss."
5. A stroke victim who talks out the side of her mouth a la Drew Berrymore.
6. VIENNA!!?? Really? Check her out sometime that bitch is cross-eyed.

And the rest are all giant bitches, with the exception of that Southern redhead with the 7 year-old kid you have to pretend not to be totally freaked out by and the one named "Tenley," which is in and of itself a drawback (although in future seasons I think the producers should just dispense with names and call the women Onely, Twoley, Threeley, Fourley, etc.).

Anyway, my point is: You are up the river without a paddle, my friend. Those roses won't help you. Get some Depends and a Japanese anime body pillow and call it a day.

Kisses,
Me