A HEAUXS GUIDE TO THE BACHELOR WINTER GAMES
Once upon 3 years ago, I wrote a tweet about #TheBachelor that made it into the county-renowned Kansas City Star.
I am an oracle.
February 13 marks the beginning of The Bachelor Winter Games, a wildly convoluted four-part series that involves Trista and Ryan Sutter as Grand Marshals, introduces international Bachelor contestants that are almost all blonde, and somehow includes Nancy Kerrigan.
After seeing a preview months ago for this cold mess, my husband and I had the following exchange:
Him: “Well, that seems completely unnecessary.”
Me: “I know! I CAN’T WAIT!”
Let the games begin.
WHO: So. Many. People. They include Eric from Rachel Lindsay’s season (hooray!), Luke from JoJo’s season (shudder), Ashley I. from Farmer Chris’s season and every Mexican beach with a patio bar and a camera crew (bring on the tears, girl!), and Clare from Venezuelan Trump’s season (she better get an animal sidekick—I’m crossing my gloved fingers for a snow hare with ski boots).
Then it’s a string of mostly blonde foreigners who’ve competed for love in lands that use the Metric System® and have other words for “amazing” and “connection” and “amazing connection.” Bonus appearances by: Nancy Kerrigan (what?), “up-and-coming country music sensation” Ruthie Collins (who?), and sports journalist Hannah Storm (hired for her last name #DramaMetaphor). It’s all narrated by The Host We’ve All Been Waiting For®, Bachelor Daddy Chris Harrison!
WHAT: A game show! But for love! And with ice dancing! And other winter sports! That will probably be performed badly! When you could be watching actual athletes who’ve trained their entire lives for this moment! But why would you do that when you could witness reality TV stars attempt to downhill ski while learning how to say “Will you accept this rose” in Swedish!
WHEN: Tuesday, February 13, Thursday, February 15, Tuesday, February 20, Thursday, February 22, and anytime I feel like closing my eyes and watching it inside my heart.
WHERE: Vermont’s The Hermitage Club, AKA ground zero for dry humping on plaid couches strategically placed near rustically upscale fireplaces!
WHY: No one really knows, but thank The Olympic Gods and hair extensions that it’s happening.