Bad Poets Society

As an homage to all the dreadful poetry that has been written for "The Bachelor/ette" series over the years (think: Ryan and Bridezilla-Trista; think: many of the lovely ladies this season), I have decided to use my brilliant word-smithing capabilities to create a poem for the lovelorn Allie G., the Oncology Doctor who was so pitifully rejected in this season's first episode by the hunky E.R. Doctor-Bachelor, What's-his-Name (who looks frighteningly like a young George W. Bush!).

I will try to rhyme.

The title of the poem is "Get Me To A Nunnery."

I'm here on "The Bachelor in Paris."
I really should be quite embarrass.

I bought a hot gown from "David's Bridal."
My boobs look fantastic, no rivals!

My eggs are so old I need a husband.
I fear I will go off the deep end.

So let's skip the hot tub dates and Eiffel Tower.
And if any girl gets a rose instead of me, I will glower.

In the end, it'll be MOI that you're choosing
'CAUSE I REALLY MUST START REPRODUCING!!!!!!

The End :-)


This will make absolutely no sense to you if you're not watching the stoopid show!