Paragraph of the Day: Shut Up, Bentley Williams
I tagged back out of the Bachelor franchise after the most recent Bradelor! DUN! season. Life offers so many organic opportunities to feel bored, enraged by sexism, or so uncomfortable that I long for a soothing hornet massage; there’s no reason to inflict all three of those sensations on myself at once without pay.
I do, however, follow the ongoing subplots on sites like Reality Blurred — the better to participate in judgy conversations about the show without actually watching each week. The two primary storylines so far, from what I can tell: 1) Ashley, the current Bachelorette, is still hyper-sensitive about the guys expecting Emily or Chantal instead of her, although she really should have toughened herself up on that point prior to going on the show; 2) Bentley Williams went on the show for solely self-promotion purposes, shit-talked Ashley with ugly dismissiveness, then ousted himself on the grounds that he missed his daughter too much to stay — a decision which devastated Ashley, who had fallen for Bentley despite getting a text from none other than Crazy Michelle telling Ashley exactly what Bentley had in mind for the season. And despite Bentley’s greezy Tintin ‘do. And despite the name “Bentley.”
The latest blip on the Bentley-dar is that he had allegedly started repairing his relationship with his ex-wife prior to going on the show. In the course of explaining how said ex, Suzette Davis, reacted to Bentley’s plan, Reality TV World gives us the following fantastic, horrifying paragraph, whose details of trashy pathos fairly freeze the blood:
Davis, who is the mother of Williams’ daughter Cozette, was reportedly shocked when she learned from a friend that the father of her child had signed on to compete on The Bachelorette, but Williams insisted it would be for the sole purpose of promoting his business — a sports center called Airborne Trampoline Arena located in his hometown of Salt Lake City, UT.
“Cozette”: a tacky blend of (I assume) homage to an irritating character from an earwiggy musical, and the sort of self-regard that brought us JonBenet and a legion of little George Foremans. It’s bad enough that, if I recall correctly, “Cosette” is the name of Adriana’s little yipball that Christophuh sat on and smothered while junked out on The Sopranos — why on earth would you tweak the spelling to make it closer to the word “cooze”? What is the thought process there? “Look at that beautiful baby, my heart, my joy. Let’s call her French Purse-Dog Vagina”? What’s her middle name — “Twait”? People: one day, junior high will come for your kid. Maybe try not to jam her up like that from the get-go.
Wait, never mind. Who would dare mock the heiress (pardon me: “heirezz”) to the Airborne Trampoline Arena fortune, I ask you. I also ask you what in Moroni’s name goes on at such an arena. Do the…trampolines themselves go airborne? The patrons? The arena itself? I assume, as the unclear antecedentage has forced me to do, that the place is a fusion of trampolining and Bounce U. Fine. How is the Bachelorette demographic the target for Williams’s business, which has absolutely no tie-in to dating or romance? (Not that the Bachelor franchise does either, technically.) Does the ATA host weddings? Does Williams want to position it as a neato first-date option? Because it seems like more of a family-fun type of place — and while I have no real problem with Williams trying to game the show for free publicity, I don’t see how the CEO showcasing his “brand” as thoughtless dickishness helps the bottom line.
But that is one amazing paragraph right there. So much information; so much confusion. Thanks, Reality TV World!
Tags: Ashley Hebert Bentley Williams Bradelor! DUN! Chantal O'Brien eat a bee Emily Maynard hairdon'ts I have a castle on a cloud I like to go there GOD FUCK OFF Suzette Davis The Bachelorette The Sopranos
Pedantic Theatre Geek checking in to say that Les Mis isn’t Lloyd Webber. Claude-Michel Schönberg, Alain Boublil and Herbert Kretzmer are responsible for that, not The Ugliest Man in Show Business.
Thanks! I’ll edit it.
“the better to participate in judgy conversations about the show without actually watching each week.”
….and there’s one of the reasons I read Tomato Nation! (One among many.) I derive far more entertainment from the snarkfest recaps then watching the emotional trainwreck/sociopathfest itself.
Knowing nothing about this ATA, I’m imagining something where you’ve got two people attacking each other with padded-end staffs while jumping between trampolines.
Ugh, “Cozette.” It figures that a Salt Laker would saddle his baby with something like that. Around here, all boys born after 2004 are named Kaden, and each spelling uses a unique combination of Qs, apostrophes, and dipthongs.
Never heard of the venerable Airborne Trampoline Arena before this whole thing broke. Incidentally, though, when someone mentioned it on the radio the other day:
HUSBAND: …Trampoline Arena?
ME: That sounds like a baby name from [locally-relevant bedroom community]. “Trampolinarina.”
I do, however, follow the ongoing subplots on sites like Reality Blurred — the better to participate in judgy conversations about the show without actually watching each week.
That statement, right there, makes you an honorary Hag. We get together monthly to drink, eat, gossip and generally JUDGE others. In fact, that’s our toast: “Judge!”. Do you prefer an engraved Highball or Collins glass (there are other options available, but you seem like a rocks girl)?
Oh, and yeah, I don’t watch these shows either, but I know I can count on you to tell me what’s going on.
I wonder if Cozette has ever competed in a child beauty pageant? Having watched countless episodes of Toddlers and Tiaras (don’t judge me), I can say with certitude that she would fit in perfectly with all the MaKynzees and Suhvannuhs and Tiffennee-Crisstles.
Before you engrave that glass, consider: I will be watching Celebrity Rehab again this season, because Dwight Gooden is on it.
…Oh, you’re still here? Great. Highball, please. I’ll bring the good bourbon.
Oh dear, and I’m afraid to someone of my advanced age, “Trampoline Arena” is uncomfortably reminiscent of The Tale of Princess Trampolina (not for the squeamish), one of many deplorable episodes from Anthony Newley’s legendarily awful movie Can Hieronymus Merkin Ever Forget Mercy Humppe and Find True Happiness?. (In addition to Ms. Humppe, the female characters include Polyester Poontang, played by Joan Collins, and Trampolina Whambang herself.)
Offered purely for educational purposes.
Does that guy bear a disturbing resemblance to Donnie Pfaster, or is that just me?
@Sars: When you get a box in the mail in about a week, it isn’t a bomb, I promise. Judge! And Hag Night is next Friday. You can make it out to the San Francisco Bay area, right? :) We’ll discuss Celebrity Rehab because, Bai Ling?! SRSLY?! And… oh wow, I have to watch it.
I think I used the right code and everything, but for some reason the link to Princess Trampolina doesn’t show up. For the morbidly curious, it’s
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Es9P_mg_gg
@Janie- Aaaaaaand now I’m incredibly creeped out. Though, if someone from one of these shows doesn’t eventually turn out to be a freaky rapist/stalker, I may actually be disappointed.
The entire paragraph about Cozette pleases me. Junior high comes for you, indeed.
I imagine Cozette having a future similar to that of Lydia’s (Megan Mullally’s) daughter Escapade on Party Down.
@Erin in SLC, “Trampolinarina” could be/probably will be a great name for my next energetic, bouncy kitten.
Also, wasn’t there a “Trampolina” mentioned somewhere in “The Hitchhiker’s Guide”? I think she was referred to as a triple-breasted prostitute. It’s been too, too long since I read the Guide, the details are getting fuzzy. Like a kitten. A bouncy kitten. With which I will someday totally crack up the veterinary hospital staff when we will have to put her name on her new veterinary records, and they won’t BELIEVE that yes, I’m calling her that. If I remember. ‘Cause, ya know, Duzy and the Bad Barn Cats are still with me and going strong, and we’re not ready for any re-namings.
Oh, Lord, I can’t believe this is a thing I know off the top of my head, but @Robin, the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon Six is Eccentrica Gallumbits. I’ll show myself out now.
@Janie: Not just you. If Bradley Cooper and Nick Chinlund somehow managed to beget a flannel-wearing, emotionally-stunted faintly lovechild, this is what he would have to look like.
@Amanda: Don’t leave on my account, since my brain went right there, too.
“Faintly stalkerish,” I meant to add. Does that go without saying? Oops.
“Faintly Lovechild” is a great band name, though.
“@Janie: Not just you. If Bradley Cooper and Nick Chinlund somehow managed to beget a flannel-wearing, emotionally-stunted faintly lovechild, this is what he would have to look like. ”
Now I need something for my throat, because the involuntary screeching I just did has popped something.
“Cozette” is, IIRC, a brand name for those foam things you jam a cold beer can into to keep them cool. I think it came from coozie, which…you’ve covered already. So to speak. As for “French Purse-Dog Vagina”, well, that sounds like a retranslated-into-English title of the Paris Hilton tape.
Altogether, well played, y’all. Welllll played.
“What in Moroni’s name…” tee hee. I think that I may add this to my vocabulary.
Wow, this is awesome. I don’t watch the show, but love what you have to say.
@Amanda: I didn’t know that by memory, but am within sight of my copy of the Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide and was about to get up and check, because I didn’t know the name for sure, but knew it was not Trampolina.
You guys are telling me Dwight Gooden and Bai Ling are on Celebrity Rehab? Must. Watch. I only watched the season with Rodney King, because I wanted to know more about him, and was disappointed to find out he was a nice enough person to be boring on TV and didn’t get any air time, particularly competing with Jeff Conaway and Busey. But Dwight Gooden and Bai Ling sounds like a good combination, especially if they keep Busey away.
I think only holy water and fasting can keep Busey away, but I’ll be wishing Bai Ling and Dwight Gooden all the best on that.