'Bachelor' recap, Part II: 'Ess Ok' the new language of breakups

Welcome to the club, Andi!

The club full of women all across America who spend their entire life trying to avoid perverted tools like the one you were supposedly in love with five minutes ago, but once we do dodge the narcissistic bullet, we spend the rest of our lives talking smack about them and wondering, how, how we could possibly fall into such a smelly trap.

Thank God you could join us. We’d hate to lose a lawyer to his pit of arrogance and sweat.

Now if only we could get Nikki and Clare to wake up.

It looked like we had a chance with Nikki, who had this scared scowl on her face during the rose ceremony when Chris was breaking the news. It’s like she saw the red flag … Should I follow this instinct to run? First Sharleen, now Andi, too? Am I missing something? But .. my .. feet .. won’t .. budge.

She’s so close.

Meanwhile, Clare’s to her left, making sure her chest is perked high enough for her boyfriend and thinking about which swimsuit she’ll wear next.

Ugh, from her puckered lips to his googly eyes all over her body, they are like a dirty VH1 music video you vow never to let your children watch. They are perfect for each other. And she’s doomed.

To be fair, Andi’s expectations were high. I get that all she wanted was for him to admit he didn’t care about her as much as he led on in front of the cameras. But is she really 27 years young that she doesn’t yet realize no man would ever admit that? Even a good guy isn’t going to air his dirty mind to a woman who’s breaking up with him, let alone to an America who he thinks he’s swooning.

Juan Pablo is scum. He wants to brag about his mediocre biceps, take you to bed and then remind you how important his poor daughter is to him.

Yeah, we see your concern for her with every sloppy makeout, Daddy.

But Juan Pablo did kinda sorta have a point. This is a show about dating multiple women after all. So if one of them came up to him saying, “Eh, you suck, I don’t want to be with you after all,” of course, he’s going to be like, “Ok! Bye! I got other girlfriends! Who are much more dumb anyway!”

Why did he have to care?

It’s simply the way in which he didn’t care that will turn him even more into The Most Hated Man in America. As if we needed another excuse. But women think too much. We care too much, we do all these things and create all these scenarios that make men like Juan Pablo look worse than they already are. Yes, Juan Pablo, “Ess Ok,” but what about respect? What about forcing us to root for you for an entire season, and for what? Just to take away our romantic fantasy that charming men and storybook love stories still exist? No, Casanova, that part is NOT OK. Us ladies would like to remain as delusional as possible for two hours a week, when we’re not cleaning our husband’s toilets, folding their underwear or complaining to our girlfriends about how they didn’t get us anything for Valentine’s Day. This crap reality show is our only hope, and your vulgar moaning and come-hither stares are really ruining all the fun.

Anyway, as delicious and empowering as the Women Tell All looks next week, if we could get one of the girls on the finale to dump him, too, then our true prize would be met.

We need this mighty peacock with his feathers fanned from here to Venezuela with his tail between his legs. That’s true drama, ABC.

Don’t we deserve that kind of celebration after watching a dumb jock try and fool our fellow women for two months straight?

I think we deserve that.

And for Pete’s sake, can we avoid the sloppy accents and pigheads when rounding out contestants for Andi’s season of the Bachelorette? (Oh, like you don’t see that coming, too.) We need Prince Charming and Hugh Grant and Jay Gatsby and Clark Gable to even begin resurrecting our hope in men. And no creepy fetishes with touching the face or putting the hair behind the ear, either. Man, that got old.