The Bachelor: Catwalk of Shame

Sure The Bachelor has been guilty of setting feminism back, say, hundreds of years, but us loyal fans tend to let that slide because hey, the catfights are pretty cool.

March 28, 2008

By Laura Gosselin
Bodog Nation Contributing Writer

On the second installment of The Bachelor: London Calling, the women were brutally degraded by being made to walk down a catwalk in front of our British bachelor who screamed Austin Power-isms at them (i.e. "Yeah, baby!" and "You make me horny").

However, our bachelor Matt Grant quickly pointed out that this was no superficial venture—he had a rose to give out, damnit. He told cameras it wasn't about "who the hottest" is, but who really "goes for it," lest he give the impression that judging women on a catwalk was all about looks.

Michelle gears up to sing her desperation song.

After the catwalk gong show, wherein Amanda pulled off her top to reveal a golden bra while Matt screamed, "Gimmie a twirl!" the group retired to a penthouse suite to down champagne and fight for attention.

Michelle P., the red-headed contender who last week, put lips to clarinet and blew in an effort to win the Bachelor's affections, had a new tactic this week: singing.

Poor Michelle must have gone the wrong way when the two signs pointed in opposite directions read, The Bachelor Auditions and High School Talent Show Auditions. I'm pretty sure if you looked through her suitcase, you'd find a clarinet, a baton, some firecrackers and a leotard.

Wow, powerful stuff, Michelle. Rhyming "you" with "you" and "me" with "me" as well offering such personal sentiments to a man you've known all of 24 hours makes you a keeper.

When the song was over, Marshana took Matt aside to ask him about his feelings on interracial dating. Aware of America's sensitivity to anything remotely racist, Matt basically told her he hadn't even noticed she was black.

Screaming Cliches in Vegas

Cut to: next we found out that the other girls were going to Vegas, a trip that wouldn't be complete without every bachelorette screaming "Vegas, baby, Vegas!" You know what? You have turned every trip to Vegas into a catchphrase nightmare.

To make matters more annoying, one extra profound bachelorette told cameras, "I like blackjack but I think really what I am going to be gambling with is my heart."

At the tables, Matt divvied out chips to the ladies and told them whoever won the most would earn a half-hour of alone time with him. Robin immediately got pouty and said she's not here to gamble: she's for Matt. In true "look at me!" fashion, she took Matt aside and explained to him that if she gambled, she would lose. Now, if you were Matt, wouldn't that be the #1 reason to boot her off the show? Who wants a wife who loses when she gambles? Add that to not being able to microwave a decent mac 'n cheese and she's got all the makings of the worst wife ever. Guys, beware of this one. 

The next drama queen was Lorenzo Lamas' daughter Shayne, who lost all her chips and went into pout-overdrive. She pulled Matt aside and told him she couldn't deal with having to compete with other women. Matt did his best to explain that all the other women were going through it without whining. (See: "You'll compete for me and you'll like it.")

Kelly was the big winner of the one-on-one time with Matt and after their time together, she gave us our bachelorette quote of the day. Thanks, Kelly!

Back at the Mansion…

Back to the mansion for another cocktail party! Matt announced that some women shone on the group dates, and some, not so much. Cue looks of horror, fear and general uneasiness. Then... level 10 desperation ensued.

Carri sat down for some alone time and then told him that she sings opera.

"I don't want to turn this into a talent show... but..."

She started screeching and wheezing while I worked on my wrist. Next on the humiliation roll sheet was Shayne, who told Matt she was "sooooo over the acting thing."

The sound that came from her hole was not good.

Next up, Robin sat down with Matt and said she wanted to play a game where they pretended to have met accidentally. They then engaged in an agonizing role-play where they pretend to have met on a train (cut to me: slitting my wrist with a dull butter knife).

As the clock counted down to the rose ceremony, naturally, the women then started showing off their dance moves, with Marshana grinding all over Matt's junk. Then, it was the moment of truth. In what the world has come to know as the best gig ever, Chris Harrison showed up to state the obvious: Matt had a decision to make. Fifteen women, only 12 roses.

The objective on his resume when he applied for his job must have read:

“I am seeking the position as a reality TV show host which will best utilize my skills which include entering rooms and stating the obvious.”

Chris Harrison is a hard worker.

And the big losers were—drum roll please—Erin H., Carri, the opera singer slash church marketer and our high school talent show castoff, Michelle P. who sniffled to cameras that she couldn't wait to get her cat between her legs.

"It will be great to have my cat between my legs again because she's the love of my life right now," Michelle revealed.

Meh. I'm all out of pussy jokes. If you've got one, please share. Hell, you can write my next article. Tune in for next week's installment—which you may or may not write yourself—when the girls get catty and stuff. Yes, there will be romance, catfights and again, shattered whore dreams.

PHOTOS: All images are courtesy of ABC.