11.21.02
He ain't heavy. He's my eyelid.
................

One thing about The Bachelor: He can't hold his liquor.

I swear, every time that guy had a glass of wine in front of him, he'd get this creepy, heavy-lid thing goin' on, eyes at half mast, as if he had tiny bricks weighing them down. And the slurring! You could see him mentally, painfully willing his mouth to move. Not that he had anything to say.

Oh, and how 'bout his dramatic shoulder dancing at the piano? Go, Tori Amos. When Brooke showed up for their date, he just couldn't believe it. "Oh gosh, you've caught me! You've glimpsed my magnificent, secret talent!"

Speaking of Brooke: Poor, poor Brooke. Tim and I, mean to the core, busted a gut every time they cut back to her weeping, eyes swollen shut, weird cheek dimple dented. "I was selfff-fff-less. I was the wuuuuun. What the hell is hap-hap-happening?" I nearly wet my pants at her final attempt at a smile. Tears of a clown, people. Tears of a clown.

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