“Hello, Is This The Methadone Clinic? I’d Like To Make A Reservation.” UPDATE!

They were in on it together, and now the gold is all theirs!

Before you decide not to watch the season finale of The Bachelor tonight, do me a quick favor: Pull down your pants, find some sort of torquing device (a ruler, a desk lamp, etc.) and get your friggin' head out of your ass.

I know this isn’t a popular opinion amongst educated people, or hip young kids, or grown-ups with adult values, or minorities struggling against class oppression, or the elderly, but for a particular subset of people who think that love means putting out slowly and believe that once you open a bottle of wine you have to finish the whole thing because “it will go bad”, this is going to be a monumental occurrence. I mean, no less than the New York Times endorses it!

[creator and producer of “The Bachelor”] Mike Fleiss promises that the finale will leave fans hyperventilating. “It’s insane, honestly,” he said. “It’s Chayefsky-esque,” he added, referring to the screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky. “The last hour is pure ‘Network.’ ”

“I don’t mean it’s like his writing,” Mr. Fleiss said. “I mean in the freakishness of it.”

GRAB YOUR INHALERS, PEOPLE. Brooke and I are so excited that we plan on live blogging it together. No actually live, of course, because that would require we tear ourselves away from the action. But I promise you that if Deanna tells Jason that she wants him back, Brooke will unleash a string of incriminations on here tomorrow that, in most public settings, would be in violation of the first amendment.

UPDATE: Brooke’s made the call – we’re going full blogtard. The Bachelor season finale live blog will start here just before 8:00. We’ll post updates in bunches as often as possible, though I’m warning you now there is no telling how the excessive glee will affect my ability to type.

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