Not that I'm ideologically opposed to divorce. Some of my best parents are divorced. I'm just saying in the real world this shit would never fly. I know a lot of twenty-four-year-olds, and not one of them is dating a thirty-two-year-old divorcee. Well, one. But talk about daddy issues.
Greg is getting so close to being the host of The New New New New Newlywed Game that I simply can't believe he hasn't asked any questions making liberal use of the word "whoopee," but he soldiers on bravely, "Who typically wears the pants?" It's just another day at Bachelorville, the esteemed capital of the sovereign nation of Montagetopia, as we rapid-fire through the responses: Brooke thinks that "the man should" wear the pants, but no matter who is and who is not wearing the pants, I can state clearly that nobody in the couple and nobody on the planet should be wearing Brooke's white, mesh 18th-century gay hobo hat. Look at that gay 18th-century hobo thing! She seriously looks like Ebeneezer Scrooge is about to toss a nickel over a balcony and call out on Christmas morning, "You there! Go buy yourself the biggest turkey in the whole market! And a bottle of Shiraz!" Because she's a gay 18th-century hobo, is why.
Estella thinks that "there isn't really anyone wearing the pants." True enough. But you can't live in the hot tub forever.
Meredith says something about wearing "the shorts." Oh, I get it.