Last night, Rachel Lindsay's season of The Bachelorette debuted.
Reminder: Rachel is a 32-year-old attorney from Dallas, TX. She is bright, charismatic as hell, and deserves a partner who is her equal.
So, what sort of eligible suitor does ABC think is good enough for this queen? This guy.
This fuuuuucccccckin' guy.
He introduced himself from inside the limo, via megaphone.
"Good evening! Stepping out of the limo next, standing at 6 feet tall, weighing in at a whopping 195 pounds, pure lean muscle mass. He also has one testicle larger than the other testicle, which, of course, is completely normal...your future husband."
(That's...not a joke. That's what he actually said.)
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His occupation is listed as, simply, "Whaboom."
"But what is Whaboom?" you ask. Well, it's...
It's just, like, convulsing your entire body while shouting "Whaaaaaaaaa-BOOOOOOOM!"
Because Rachel is a freaking professional, she totally rolled with it.
But the rest of us were like...
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And the other suitors were...not impressed.
What white nonsense is this???
Should we call security?
Blake L. — the "aspiring drummer" (???) who Twitter immediately nicknamed "Penis" because he introduced himself to the world by talking about how big his dong is — didn't mince words, saying, "He's a fucking clown."
That is, of course, an insult to clowns. Whaboom is more like the guy who got kicked out of clown school because he got caught masturbating in the clown car one morning before class.
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Whaboom spent most of the episode whabooming, shouting nonsense through his megaphone, crashing other dude's chats with Rachel, and generally just being That Guy.
As if that weren't enough, this poor man's Jim Carrey is also that guy who plays guitar at the party:
And yes, he is indeed crooning "Whaboom."
Whaboom is what would happen if a chimpanzee had sex with an off-brand Ken doll.
If Whaboom talked to you on the subway, you'd give him a tight-lipped smile, politely put your headphones back in, and then you would change cars at the next stop.
(If Whaboom talked to Rachel on the subway, she'd smile and laugh because she is clearly the kind of woman who uses humor to diffuse threats.)
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Behind every Whaboom is a woman making this face:
And, look, Whaboom getting a rose isn't surprising; these producers are nothing if not excellent trolls.
But what is shitty is that a lot of decent-seeming men got sent home last night and while this toolbox got to stay.
I watch The Bachelorette to forget about all of the ways white male mediocrity is rewarded, and now I'm going to have to deal with Whaboom reminding me of that fact for two hours every week for the foreseeable future?
Rejected suitor Milton understands the problem here.
Sigh.
SAME, Whaboom. SAME.
