2003-04-13 - 6:18 p.m.

Serialized Date From Hell (Joe Millionaire Style)

Part 1

Once there was a lonely construction worker cum undies model named Evan. He was sad and all alone, living by himself in La-La Land, no one to wash his socks or nuke Hamburger Helper for him, resigned to a life filled with fast food hamburgers and no nookie. Until he decided to take a journey, to find true love, the one woman in this world that loved him for him and him alone, the real him, not the Gay Underwear Catalog man but the man that grunted, farted and moved dirt for a living. Doesn't every woman want such a guy?

So he did the only sensible thing in a man in his position could do, he signed up to fly to France and pretend to have 50 million smackeroos on national television just so he could find the one that loved him. The network put him up for a month in a posh chateau filled with as much booze as he could drink and imported twenty women to fight over, I meant, get to know him. Doesn't everyone find true love best in front of a camera lying their asses off to a bevy of bimbos while being watched by the rapacious hordes?

Contestant #1

"I came to France to meet the man of my dreams, to live the real fairytale (and score enough bread to turn back on the heat in my crummy roach-ridden tenement apartment)"

Contestant #2

"Since I'm a doctor I figured I deserved a millionaire. Why not? Nuttin' is too good for me (In other words I don't feel like working very hard and am looking for a foolish sugar daddy to keep my pathetic ass in Ho-Ho's and Twinkies!)"

Contestant #3

"Oh My Godd!! It's like 'Beauty N' The Beast' but less hairy. But first I'd have to redecorate the Chateau, change Evan's wardrobe, make him stop drinking, make him stop burping. But only after I bathe Africans babies and become a mercinary."

First Evan had to be transformed from a rude hulking poor boor to a boorishly oafish rich vulgarian via ettiquette lessons, dancing lessons, culinary and wine lessons and learning the proper way a gentleman sits a ho', ah, horse. The hardest part was teaching him how to use a fork. See what a skillful equestrian Evan has become after only a few lessons?

The producers decided that having Evan ride up on a dashing steed to meet the contestants would be too cute, the height of fairy-tale-ism. Too bad no one realized a couple of things. One, that our hero spent more brain cells and attention on wrestling the tops of his beer than on his riding lessons and two, no one told him where the horse's brakes were. Our hero rode up and shouted, "OH LORDY!" as he hung on for dear life. His secret was safe though because none of the ladies caught onto the fact that he was as natural on that horse as a hooker is at communion because the closest any of them had ever come to horse was their last steak, (or in Mojo and Sarah's cases, some films they made.)

All that riding, puzzling over which wine goes with Spagettios and trying to decide which of his wife-beaters to wear to the ball left our hero frazzled. He decided to relax while the ladies chose their ballgowns and primped for their group date with Evan.

The producers so thoughtfully provided 20 gowns for the 20 young ladies, leftovers from the prom sequence at "90210". As you can see quite a discussion was held about which gown suited which lady, that all important selection that might help catch the eye of the empty-headed faux richie. After the ball some would go packing and some would be invited to stay. How can you tell which are the losers and who is lucky?

After a ball peppered with questions involving tangerines caught in teeth and toes crushed by our awkward Faun he chose..... stay tuned....

 

 

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hanging out with high school freshmen is not my idea of a romantic date. - 2004-02-13
Go Team - 2004-01-18
Ken - 2004-01-18
date wit a pimp - 2004-01-08
BOB - 2004-01-08

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