Ok. So galaxyMafia just finished watching the final episode of "The Bachelor" on ABC, and while she normally thinks this tacky show is an insult and an utter affront to women, romantic love (which galaxyMafia doubts even exists) and the arduous process of finding and getting to know a person in the hopes of building a healthy relationship that profits both parties, she nevetheless felt compelled to give the loser, Moana, a little advice. . .

After being told by Travis (who, upon closer inspection, ain't no Dr. McDreamy) that even though they shared an "amazing" and "special" connection, he could not pick her, Moana confessed to being "truthfull shocked" and left in her tacky white Prom limo wherein she proceded to completely fall the fudge apart as only she can (and has been for the past two months) do.

For those of you who were wise enough not to watch the show, here's a recap of Moana's histrionics. Trust me, the Bard couldn't have written pathos and tragedy as unrelenting and
hilarious as this:

"I'm emotionally devastated. . .I'm so shocked. At firstI thought it was joke. I've just never been so vulnerable before in my life and so dead-on and so wrong. . .to think that your affections for someone are reciprocated and to be smacked in the face with a solid rejection like I received tonight is so hurtful and I feel like such a fool. The good girl always wins. Guys like that don't marry girls like me. I feel right now like I never should have opened up because this pain I'm experiencing right now is so intense that I just want to crawl back into my shell and hide."

Moana, really, was all that hyper-traumatic melodrama necessary? I mean, I would like to feel your pain but I can't help thinking that you brought all this on yourself.

Your first mistake? Going on "The Bachelor" in the first place. I mean, what self-respecting woman would agree to place herself
in a field of 25 other rapid, seething lonely childless women.



On the first show, all of the girls were standing around like so many uptight heiffers, nervously chewing their cud, ready to unravel at the seams, all a-twitter and a-flutter over some would-be prized bull. I don't know jack sprat about you, Moana, but I know your mama taught you to have a little more pride and self-worth. Honestly, did you really want to be the number one bitch in a harem of hos?

Your second mistake? Not being able to round up them wayward emotions of yours! Moana, men don't like emotions! Men don't like tears! And men certainly don't like histrionics! Especially stick-up-their-ass guys like Dr. Dork. You are so passionate and hot-blooded. You're a raging, ranting sea of panting, pulsating bosom. You're a fiery opera that can only end in suicide and scandal. Most men don't know what the fudge to do with all that emotion. It makes them feel inadequate because they don't know what the hell to say to you or how the hell to make you stop crying and all they want to do is get the hell up outta this bee-otch before you spontaneously combust, or pop a blood vessel. You were right about one thing: you shouldn't have opened up. Men do not appreciate your honesty. And they don't give a witch's tit about your feelings. They just want you to shut up and screw 'em when they want to be screwed. And then they want you out of their apartment before they wake up the next morning because they really ain't in the mood to have breakfast with you.

Your third mistake? Thinking that a unrestrained, hyperbolic gal like yourself could ever settle down with Dr. McBoring. You were right. The good girl does always win. It doesn't matter if you can suck the guy off nine ways to Sunday, if his mama don't like you then, you ain't gotta go home but you gotta get the hell outta here.

Your fourth mistake? Describing yourself as "emotionally devastated". Moana, since when did you turn into a Katrina victim? You ain't devastated. You're just pissed off and embarrassed that that fool Travis clowned you on television. If you think about it, all you were was kicked to the curb by some fugger that you would have realized (in a month or two) you weren't really feeling after all.





It's like this: Sarah is a kindergarten teacher. Travis has the mental capacity and social acuity of a six-year-old. They're perfect for each other.

copyright 2005. . .galaxyMafia predicts we'll see Melodramatic Moana as the next Bachelorette!