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furilia · 6 years

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Strange letters from my father

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Strange letters from my father

I never do paid posts but I’m doing this one for two reasons. 1) Because I was already going to write about this. Stick with it and you’ll see why in a second, and 2) because the 8th Annual Jame Garfield Miracle is going on and I needed more money to help kids in need and this was a super easy way to do it. So if you’re reading this, you are helping needy children. EVERYONE WINS.

So, StoryWorth advertised on my blog this year and I loved it so much I paid full price to buy one for my dad. Here’s how it works: StoryWorth emails your family member weekly story prompts in the form of questions. They reply to the emails and you get to read their amazing family stories that you never knew existed. Then at the end of the year StoryWorth binds the years worth of stories into a keepsake book. My dad has been doing it for about six months and the emails I get with his answers are so insane and lovely that I often have to call and ask, “Is that true?” Stories about my grandparents and great grandparents that I may never have known are now being shared with family. It is awesome and I highly recommend it because it’s a gift for you and for them. It’s normally $79 but right now (until 1/31/18) it’s only $59 through this link.

The stories my father shares are really too good to keep to myself so I’m sharing a few snippets of my favorites here. You may think they’re strange and terrible but I love and treasure them. I suppose that’s how family stories work though. (BTW, Nelda is my mom. She types the answers as my dad dictates.)

Have you pulled any great pranks?

I was prying something loose one day, and I broke off half the blade of my skinning knife. Stupid! Now the six-inch blade was only three inches long. It was now perfect for prying things loose, but it was also perfect for a practical joke.

We have an electric knife sharpener at the taxidermy shop, and I don’t allow anyone to use it except me. If you’re not paying 100% attention to what you are doing, the high-speed sharpening wheel can throw the blade back at you. Bad news.

I went to my own working area where I hide from the other workers and went to work on my joke. I super glued the tip of my broken knife blade to the inside of my inner right arm. Next I built up the wound area with 2-part epoxy. It’s a product we use in the taxidermy shop like modeling clay to make artificial skin on a mount. I smoothed out the epoxy, texturized it to make it look like my own skin and modeled it to look like that knife is really embedded deep in my arm. I used an airbrush to paint the epoxy area to match my skin. Next I feathered in some white, purple,and red paint to make a realistic cut. Finally I mixed up some blood- red and black paint. I added a little glycerin to give the fake blood a wet glossy look. I poured the blood where it needed to be, and splashed the rest on an old rag that I used to cover the gag.

I staggered into the shop and sat down, not saying a word.

Don was the first to notice the blood. “Holy Crap! What did you do?” Helen came out the office, and I removed the blood-soaked rag to show my work of art. Everyone gathered around me to either gawk or help. Helen hollered out, “Don’t put it out. He’s on blood thinners! He”ll bleed to death!”

No sooner did she say that, Jonathon grabbed the knife and pulled it out. I quickly covered the wound with the bloody rag. I figured the joke was over till Jonathon looked at the knife and screamed, “It broke off in his arm!”

I didn’t get any compliments for my realistic art work. I cleaned up my mess and came back in the shop. I sat down next to Jonathon and asked him if it looked real. He said. “Yeah, I thought it was real……..What are blood thinners?”

What have you changed your mind about over the years?

I use to think that dogs are a man’s best friend, but I’ve changed my mind. Dogs will always forgive you quickly if you ask them to, but they don’t do laundry, they don’t cook, they don’t scratch your back, and they don’t clean house. They are pretty good at doing dishes, as long as you smear left-over gravy over the whole plate.

I use to think that a loving wife would see the humor in that previous paragraph. Dogs will still always forgive you quickly if you ask them to.

I use to think this was funny.

If you could choose any talents to have, what would they be?

I asked Nelda what this question meant. Any talent? She suggested singing, or playing an instrument , or maybe x-ray vision. X-Ray vision might be cool only if it is selective. Some old fat guy crossing your path of vision could ruin your day. A cute young chick could also ruin my marriage. I’ll stick with my near- sighted astigmatism with floaters.

I already sing beautifully. I have that talent even though no one else thinks so. My ears are so good that in my head the notes sound pitch perfect. Self corrective hearing is what I call it.

I might like the talent to finish everyone’s sentences before they could say it. Unfortunately I hang around a lot of people that don’t make a lot of sense. I’m not going to take credit for a bunch of nonsense.

I would like the talent to communicate with animals. I would like to understand their thoughts. Someday I will.

What is one of your fondest childhood memories?

One of my fondest memories is going perch fishing with my mom. When I was about five years old, I got the fishing bug. I couldn’t get enough fishing. My dad had a farm out at Eola, about twenty miles from home. The whole family would pack up before daylight, and drive out to the farm to work. My dad would usually be on his John Deere tractor. My mom would be either building electric fence or picking rocks out of the field. My sisters would be together hoeing weeds. I, being the baby, stuck with my mom. We would work till noon, and then drive to our neighbor’s pasture to have a picnic lunch. A small dirt tank with green water surrounded by large mesquite trees was one of my favorite places to spread out our homemade quilts, and rest in the shade. We would eat bread, summer sausage, longhorn cheese, and drink Cragmont orange soda water. After lunch, I would get out my cane pole. I always saved some of my lunch to use for bait. Those perch would bite on anything, but bread was my favorite cuz it stayed on my hook the best,

My dad would usually sleep and rest while my mom would watch me fish. She was actually watching a five year old kid making sure I wasn’t gonna fall in the water. The fish would bite as fast as you put the hook in the water. They weren’t very big, but I kept anything that had eyes. I even kept a little turtle. When I caught a water snake, my fishing was over.

Have you ever won anything?

The last year that the famous Sam Lewis put on the World Champion Armadillo Races, I won. Actually, my armadillo won. All I did was get behind Army and stomp and holler and chase him across the finish line. I guess I came in second. I released the armadillo back in the woods, but I kept the silver ring. My daughter Jennifer has the ring (I think).

I probably wouldn’t have given her the ring if it was gold.

What inventions have had the biggest impact on your day-to-day life?

The cube is probably the greatest invention of my lifetime. Before the cube, there was really not much stability in my life. Spheres were the rage when I was growing up. How can one build anything on a sphere? No matter how you slice it, you end up with just a lot of wheels.There was hope for wheels in those days, although someone took the idea too far. The whole world revolved around wheels and anything that could be made with them. Donuts were one of my favorites. It was like a wheel inside of a wheel. Clever. But look at a really fat donut from the side. It’s a cube. Give the cube the credit due. You eat a donut from the side, don’t you?

Cubes were the true building blocks of the future. The Egyptians knew this. They even made huge cubes all over their back yard. Then they sliced the cubes diagonally, tipped them over so they would rest on their most stable side, and “BAM”! They had yard art that would last for decades. People would ride by, see the yard art, and ask the age-old question, “Do you think that’s a cube cut in half on its axis, or is that cube half buried in the sand. If someone ever invents the wheel, we could build a big bulldozer and find out.”

Ice cubes. How would you like living in this planet without ice cubes. Sure, there’s people up north that don’t appreciate ice like we do, but what if they want to sit down for a while. Up north, chairs don’t grow on trees, but a big cube of ice would make a wonderful chair. You could probably build a house out of ice if you had enough of it laying around. An air-conditioned house. With an ice box.

I really don’t dislike spheres. After all, a sphere is just a well-rounded cube that likes to travel.

I changed my mind. My favorite invention that has changed my life is a 19 volt battery-operated screwdriver with an extra lithium battery. Made by Craftsman.

How has the country changed during your lifetime?

The country hasn’t changed at all. The cities are all screwed up. I lived in the country when I was a kid, and I live in the same country now. The trees I remember as a kid seemed to be a lot smaller back then. The country roads I use to walk down seem to be a lot shorter when I drive them.

Water skiing, tubing and fishing wasn’t good at all on our local lakes, but I got pretty good at skipping rocks. The trick was to find flat rocks about three inches across. If you could find rocks that were flat on the top and bottom, you were in business. With a little practice, you could get thirty or more skips out of one perfect rock. You could get even more skips if the lakebed wasn’t sandy. When you found that perfect rock, you didn’t squander it. You walked out in the lakebed and retrieved it. Once when I was retrieving one of my dad’s washers (sometimes I used artificials),I found a rowboat. It was a Sears/Roebuck 10 foot aluminum just like the ones in the catalogs. This boat was mine.There wasn’t a drop of water in my new boat, and I started dreaming about all the adventures I would have on Lake Nastywater. (We use to called it Lake Nasworthy, till the water level went down and old tires messed up our rock skipping). I named my boat S.S Minnow. Gilligan’s Island was my favorite after school tv show. I liked Gilligan the best, but Ginger and Mary Ann got a lot better over the years. My Dad enjoyed that show too. I knew he was really gonna get excited when I showed him The Minnow. We walked out on the lake and gazed down on our boat.

“Oh My Gosh! Look! ” Daddy saw my boat. He was excited. He peeled off his sweat stained farmers hat, smiled, sighed, and said something that I couldn”t believe. “There’s my old boat.”

“What! Your boat?”

“Sonny, I lost “The African Queen ” about forty years ago.” I was noodling for yeller cats down here when this was the Middle Concho. You know what noodling is……Catching them with your hands. It wasn’t against the law back in them days. Now, they would throw you in the pokie. I found this big rock right here and knew this was where the big one lived. Right under this rock. Your Uncle Sam, my older brother, was a better swimmer than me ,and he had more experience at catching big fish. Sam jumped in the water, took a deep breath, and went underwater. He came back up about 30 seconds later ,and told me the good news. “There’s a big hole under that rock, and there’s a catfish down in there. His head is as big as a five gallon bucket. As soon as I catch my breath, I’m going for him. My brother, Sam went under. He was down there a long time. He was down too long. I jumped in the water, and found the hole that Sam had entered. I reached in, and found Sam’s legs kicking up a storm. I grabbed his legs and started pulling him out of the hole. It was a struggle,but I pulled him out. We surfaced, and Sam was as white as a sheet. We looked around and couldn’t find “The African Queen”.

We sat up on the rock, Sam caught his breath finally, and told me what happened.”That monster fish was deep in the hole. I was rubbing his belly with both hands. My arms were extended, reaching for his gills. He kept swimming further in the hole. I didn’t realize that the hole was getting tighter, and I was running out of breath. My arms were out in front of me, and I couldn’t push my way out. I was stuck underwater. I was ready to give up when I felt you pulling me out. You saved my life!

We reached down to release our boat from the encrusted mud, and it proved to be a lot lighter than expected. There was no floor in the boat. It had rotted out years ago, but it still held some shared memories for my dad and me.

Uncle Sam and Daddy are both gone now. Maybe they’re floating down the Middle Concho in an old rowboat with a floor in it. Maybe they’re fishing for big yeller cats. They’re not noodling though because Sam promised God that he wouldn’t fish that way anymore.

Do you have any particularly vivid memories of your grandparents?

All of my grandparents were Czech. They didn’t speak English but they were successful farmers. They figured out early in life that to be wealthy, you had to have good discipline. They saved their hard-earned money that they made sharecropping. Then they bought land. They made do with growing their own fruits and vegetables. They raised chickens for eggs and meat. They had cows that they milked daily and butchered their own beef and hogs.They made their own clothes, churned butter, canned produce from the garden, made cheese , flour, cornmeal, and bread. The only thing easy on the farm was falling to sleep at night.

Butchering hogs in those days was a big deal. There was too much work for one family to do all the work in one day. There would also be too much meat and sausage to cure, smoke, and package. The meat from a three hundred pound hog would go bad before one family could eat it.

When the first cold day would come around, all of the aunts, uncles, and third-generation heathens would meet at my grandparents house with all their butcher knives, tow sacks, hog scrapers, seasonings. We were having a butcher day. There was going to be a lot of work and a lot of fun for everyone except two fat hogs.

The women would build a big hot fire under a wash kettle full of water. The men would get the hogs up out of the mud, and wash them off. The hogs didn’t know what was going on with all this special treatment, but I bet they thought they were family and they were being invited for dinner. Smart pigs.

My uncles would build a sled,and then would position our dinner guest close to it. A shot would ring out and an unhappy but short squeal would alert the second dinner guest that now might be the time to cancel his reservation. The relaxing swine napping on the sled would be given a ride to the kettle area. Tow sacks (burlap bags) were pulled out of the boiling water and spread over a portion of the sleeping porker. The scalding loosens the hair on the pig and a dull butcher knife is used to scrape the hair (root and all) off of the pig.

The whole process is repeated on a new area of the pig until the whole hog is as balded as the top of my head. That pig is also pretty and pink like the top of my head.

Now it’s time to gut the clean “organ donor”. The liver, kidneys, and heart are saved. The small intestines are also saved. It was my job to clean out the green juice out of these long tubes. I liked attaching a garden hose to one end and let the water pressure do the work. My job was taken away from me because of the mess I made all over the porch. I think years later Whamo made a fortune with a toy called a Water Wiggle. I guess I was just ahead of my time on inventions, but my marketing skills had not yet been perfected. Sometimes, poop happens.

The rolls of fat from the hog is collected for later use. The ashes from the fire were shoveled into a tilted wooden trough. Water was poured over the ashes and drained into another container. This was lye. The fat is put in the kettle and rendered down to lard. Some of the lard was saved to cook with. It was poor man’s shortening. Then the belly meat and flanks were cut up (with the skin still attached), and the small pieces were fried in the lard. This was cracklins. You eat them hot with molasses and homemade bread. You now have a lot of lard in the kettle. Dump the lye in with some kind of perfume and boil the devil out of it. Let the whole mess cool down and you got soap. Cut the soap into bars with a butcher knife and let it get cold. It will last forever. I think it has such a long shelf-like cuz no-one wants to use it. It stinks, and it takes your hide off with the dirt. It will cure a young boy from cussin .

Cut up the pork chops,cure the bacon, cure the hams and hocks, and start turning the grinder. It’s “SAUSAGE TIME”.

Those casings that were rescued from me are refilled with seasoned ground pork and tied into links. Hang ’em in the smoke house.

It’s now pretty late, and everybody’s tired. We sample the sausage and clean up the huge mess. I clean the front porch.

I give Babuska (Grandmother) a hug goodbye. I smell like the front porch, but she returns the hug anyway. That was sixty years ago, but I can still smell the aroma of fresh baked poppy seed kolaches from her homemade apron.

I still smell like her front porch.

My dad with his sisters and his mother. Wall, Texas.

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jodiwalker · 7 years

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A Bachelorette Bio Breakdown: They Would Do Anything for Love (And They Will Do THAT)

There comes a time in every 20-something's life…when they must take a season off from The Bachelor franchise. For me, that season was Nick. Not because I don't like Nick—I find him no better or worse than any Bachelor(ette) who has come before him. (Actually I find him better because, uh, I'm pretty sure Prince Farming recently killed a guy).

I just needed a break. Yes I know about Corrinne. Yes, I stand in awe and fear of her. Yes, she has a perfectly round head-shape like a peanut M&M when they forget to put the peanut in that I don't trust, but do tend to admire, a la Stassi from Vanderpump Rules. Though it left a gaping hole in my heart—as if I was forgetting to eat breakfast every single day, and that missing breakfast was made of thigh gaps and man-tears—it was good for me. I return refreshed, and more importantly, completely clueless about what to expect from Rachel, or as I have taken to calling her: the Rachelorette (pronounced R8chelorette).

The only thing I can remember about Rachel from the brief glimpses I caught of Nick's season is that she got the First Impression Rose of Doom and I once saw her in a full-out sprint and not a single part of her body jiggled. From what I understand, she remained charming throughout and some issues of race were (not awfully) addressed in her hometown visit. I have to imagine that conversation went something like this:

Rachel's parents, in unison: Nick, we can't help but notice that you're white. And also, that our daughter is way out of your league.

Nick: But—

Rachel's parents, alternating back and forth every other word: Yes, even now that you're two percent body fat and there's something different about your face that we can't quite put our finger on.

Rachel: Ha, you right, fam. See ya, Nick, I'm about to be the first black Bachelorette!

Nick: And I…I will take my last titular stand in Dancing With the Stars where I will wear more sequins and bronzer than any Bachelorette could ever dream of.

Since I clearly know very little about Rachel, I also expect very little out of her, which is kind of nice. Rachel can be a robot and it won't really matter—in fact, since she's from Dallas, a place solely populated by gallerias that smell like fancy fountains and hot young women that also smell like fancy fountains (lookin’ at you, JoJo), it will make perfect sense if she's just an average, smart, attractive woman. But she's also the first black lead in the Bachelor franchise, so y’know, the producers will probably run this entire freight train into the ground trying to be cool about that.

Unfortunately, unlike the contestant bios which are full of enlightening questions like "What fruit would you be if you could be any fruit?" and "What brand of high-end blender would you be I you could be any brand of high-end blender?" the Bachelorette's bio is just four paragraphs of excruciating prose. And since Rachel is an attorney, hers is 80 percent lawyer puns, 15 percent conjunctions, 5 percent her own name, and exactly 0 percent concentrated power of will. What I learned is that. 1.) Rachel went to the University of Texas, which checks out because it's almost easier to imagine her with a tiny temporary tattoo of a burnt orange longhorn on her cheek than without, and 2.) "Winning in court has never been a problem, but finding love is a case that unfortunately remains open." Yeesh.

So, let's, uh, call this court to order by meeting all 31 of the, uh, romantic prosecutors who have been, uh, subpoenaed in this case of, uh, LOVE IN THE FIRST DEGREE. Nailed it.

This isn’t necessarily the all-around hottest group of suitors we've ever had. But it is the most diverse. And that's because Rachel is a minority, so ABC will let her date another minority: a black guy, an Asian guy, a Latino guy…hell, she could even choose a white guy if she wants (but they will withhold her daily allotment of Snackwells if she tries to pull any of that shit). They're so open-minded this season, you guys. Honestly! They're very cool with what Caitlyn Jenner is up to; they retweet DeRay sometimes; some of their best friends went to the Women's March.

And while they may have curiously kept Rachel a blank slate in the marketing leading up to her season, all the jacked dudes trying to woo her come pre-packaged with a whole slew of questions by which to judge them. Pretty much every single one of them says they're 6'2 or taller, they're all obsessed with the Rock, Denzel Washington and Matthew McConaughey, like, six of them have inner-lip tattoos, and I don't know if Rachel requested that they all be sexual deviants, or if this is just the Freak House that Kaitlyn Bristowe Built, but everyone has gotten up to some real weird shit in the bedroom. So without further ado…

Rachel's Top 12 Most Interesting Men (according to a questionnaire completed under a distorting blanket of warm Jägermeister served in a plastic cup by producers who lured you out of a food court Sbarro with promises of love and more deli meat than one could ever imagine, plus, if you mention Elon Musk in your questionnaire, everyone will think you're smart, and also, if you say no to doing this, you're probably at least a little subconsciously racist, just something to think about—alright, see ya in Calabasas, buddy!) in no particular order:

Adam—Real Estate Agent, 27

When asked what his typical Saturday night looks like, Adam responded, "Well if it's not with my couch, then I would go out with some friends for dinner and go out to a bar or club for drinks, maybe late night tacos." Dude…you know that sounds like you're fucking your couch. You know that. Adam also said the most romantic gift he's ever received is a threesome for his birthday. Just him, his little lady, and that sweet, sweet couch.

DeMario—Executive Recruiter, 30

Excuse me as I half claim DeMario as my 2017 boyfriend, and half assess him as my 2017 nemesis because he might be the person I wish I was. DeMario's description of himself during social outings is like if a Kanye tweet (RIP) had an exclamation point baby with a Cher tweet: "100% the party starter… always blowing my whistle and making NOISE!!! Let's fire it up, put on some Prince and party like it's 1999!!!!" It could only be better if he threw a little Jaden-existentialism in the mix. And if those are all references you understand, you will also appreciate DeMario's thoughts on being the center of attention: "I won't lie, I love attention… not like '07 B. Spears attention or 2011 Sheen. Natural attention like when Justin and Brit wore those incredible denim outfits." Oh, you mean MY PERMANENT TWITTER THEME?

DeMario has a real Michael B. Jordan thing going for him, he chose a crew neck t-shirt instead of a v-neck, and he seems to choose to capitalize words or abbreviate them completely at random. I love him and I will make him mine. And who does DeMario hope to make his? His ideal mate is, "Outgoing, people person, funny, crazy, calm, cool, loud, funny, geeky but cool like The Fonz." Who has two thumbs, is standing near a jukebox, and is exactly like that? (Hint: It me.)

Anthony—Education Software Manager, 26

Anthony is too young for Rachel, but he also seems like the smartest one in the bunch. He got a Fulbright Scholarship to teach on the Ivory Coast, he name checks that weird carnivorous island in Life of Pi, his favorite movies are the very well-rounded trio of The Iron Giant, Moonlight and The Matrix, and his ideal mate is intellectual. Also he says he has "virtually no limits" in the bedroom"…so he will let you do butt stuff.

Diggy—Senior Inventory Analyst, 31

Homboy wore Warby Parkers to the beach. And they look good! Homeboy also took us on a wild ride via his questionnaire answers—and that makes sense. I don't think you come by the name Diggy because of your mild demeanor. (However, that this is not a grown-up Diggy Simmons is a disappointment that cannot be overcome.) Diggy begins a lot of his sentences with "Now," and it's hard to tell if he's marking the time or speaking like an elderly southern woman: "Now [chile], I'm trying to recover from the day drinking!" But once you get past that, I find his most embarrassing moment hilarious: "When I was stranded on a toilet for hours in 5th grade." Tell me everything, I'm dying for more Dig-Diggy-deets!

Now, where I could have used less information is in his "fun story about a one night stand" answer. Diggy explains that he spent all day with a young lady, then she came home with him and they had sex. Then she got a text that her brother was missing, "so I played asleep so I didn't have to help!" Hey Digs, wtf? That girl just gave you her special wonder gift and waited for you during your hours of patented Diggy Toilet Time—help her find her damn brother! [Ed. Note: They better fucking put that one-night-stand question in the next women's questionnaire or I swear…I have no threat. I will watch this show until the day it kills me. But I WILL make a note of it!]

Bryan—Chiropractor, 37

Thirty-seven?! Get it, Bryan! Bryan is cute and a little shifty, and not just because he's a chiropractor (ed. note: sick chiropractor burn from someone who has never, not once, been to a chiropractor). For example, when asked to list his three best attributes, Bryan replies, "Affectionate/passionate, personable/charming/funny, kind/good heart." Bryan. You can't just use slashes and act like that isn't seven attributes! Affectionate and passionate are not even remotely synonyms, and if they were, you could just say one. But Bry-Guy fits in all those great attributes, and then one more: Bryan's favorite flower…is an orchid. Haaaaave ya met Bryan? He loves vaginas!

Bryce—Firefighter, 30

We're all on the same page that Bryce is an animated character of some kind, right? Like…he's that thing where a cartoon Easter Bunny turns into a human man and is debatably hot, right? Also, "a fresh drink of water with a jolt of lightening" is an incredible way to describe yourself as a lover, right? In return, Bryce only asks that his mate have "eyes you could drown in and a smile that insults the sun." I'm gonna be so mad when Bryce is totally boring and gets eliminated the first night, because describing handwritten letters as "one of the purest forms of materialized emotion" is just really not a diction rollercoaster I expected to take in the Bachelorette Bio Breakdown.

Fred—Executive Assistant, 27

"My greatest achievement is attending two graduate school program from two different universities simultaneously and graduating from both in the same weekend." Fred says he wants to be Ellen for a day, but he is, in fact, living the life of Hermoine with a Time-Turner. Fred also has the single most question-inducing answer of all the 31 men. When asked if he's ever been turned on at the wrong time, he responds, "Yes, there are times that I get aroused at work and I have to go back to my desk to avoid being noticed." Fred, "times?" How frequently this happening? And why is it always happening away from your desk? Where are you going in your office as an executive assistant that's constantly giving you boners? Are you the executive assistant at PornHub? Is everyone at PornHub constantly having to watch you erection-dash back to your desk: "Uh oh, looks like Fred angled his dangle by the fish tank again." I got my eye on your, Fred.

Kenny—Professional Wrestler, 35

I have it on good authority that Kenny is actually a fairly well-known wrestler, and it is my own personal opinion that Kenny contains multitudes. He has a daughter who he speaks of very sweetly, his favorite book is The New Jim Crow, and he once sent a woman a different edible arrangement for a week. Please don't be a dick, Kenny.

He also thinks he and The Rock are "very much alike," which, I get it—I want to think I'm the most charming, beloved man in the world too. But I'm not the Rock, and neither is Kenny. If he's anywhere close though, I demand he be the next Bachelor. And if not, I propose Kenny be cross-network drafted into The Challenge in what I am calling a "reverse-Miz."

Lucas—Whaboom, 30

Hey Lucas, real quick, what the hell. I don't know if you noticed, but everybody this season has 1950s jobs: doctor, lawyer…professional wrestler. You can't just make a made-up word your profession. You also can't say that your ideal mate would be four different animated characters—Belle, Cinderella, Little Mermaid, and Jessica Rabbit—three of whom I'm pretty sure are teenagers. In the very weird Facebook Live Chris Harrison did, he described Whaboom for the confused listener: "It's a lifestyle. It's an essence. It's who he is. It's a noun, it's a verb, it's an adverb. You can be Whaboom, you can be Whaboomed, and you can Whaboom." Hey Chris Harrison, you know what else is a lifestyle? Zippin' it.

Jonathan—Tickle Monster, 31

Which brings us to Jonathan and his stab at being the person with a weird job—sorry bro, who could have known Lucas was going to swoop in with Whaboom, spawning, like, 100 Bustle posts. Like "Twins" and "Dog Lover" before him, Jonathan has given himself an occupation that is not a thing, but my assumption is he's a pediatrician or something. Either that, or he, a.) plays the Cookie Monster on Sesame Street and auto correct really did a number on him, b.) is a real creep. Jonathan does go on to specify that he usually lasts a long time in the bedroom…"in a good way." But when your profession is Tickle Monster, "a good way" really starts to feel relative.

I truly could not have made this joke better myself than this person on The Bachelorette Facebook page:

Blake K—U.S. Marine Veteran, 29

Blake K is very cute and very basic, and Rachel should marry him and have very beautiful children together. The man would want Chipotle on the desert island that exists only in these questionnaires; he loves The Rock and Shark Week; he admires his mom more than anyone else in the world, and his ideal mate has a great smile. Blake K will get voted off the first night or he will win, there is no in between.

Jack Stone—Attorney, 32

Finally, Jack Stone. Jack Stone gives exactly no explanation for why he is going by Jack Stone, and his job is listed as "attorney," not "super-secret antihero agent played by Matt Damon and/or Liam Neeson," so I'm at a loss. There are no other Jacks. No one else lists a last name. Is it a double name? If he gets eliminated before we find out, I will never forgive Rachel…and neither will Jack Stone. Jack Stone has a very particular set of skills, Rachel. Skills he's acquired over a long career. Skills that make him a nightmare for people like the Rachelorette. If you let him stay until the second cocktail party, that'll be the end of it. He will not look for you, he will not pursue you, but if you don't, he will look for you…he will find you and he will kill you.

Best of luck to you, Rachel. I hope none of these weirdos try to wear you like a coat or have a threesome with a couch or make you bounce with them in a moonwalk castle, or whatever. See you back here, friends, for intermittent recaps that will absolutely never be posted in a timely manner. Because I would do anything for you, dear reader—but I won't do that.

#the bachelorette #the bachelorette recap

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