At one time or another, someone in any group of friends will eventually mutter some sort of variation of this phrase: “We should have our own reality show.” I have little doubt that such a phrase is how E!’s latest monkey humping a football reality series, “What Would Ryan Lochte Do?”, was created and developed, because Ryan and his friends (The Lochterage) truly believe that they are the bros above all bros.

The problem is, of course, that most people suck and are, therefore, not entertaining at all. This is the depressing reality that the Lochterage seems to ignore as their series slowly spirals toward its eighth and final episode. When the show ends, Ryan and his friends will probably go on believing that they truly are “living life to the fullest” as they play volleyball in Gainesville apartment complexes or fire paintballs at each other in an open field.

But in reality, they will just be some bros doing bro things, and the sooner they realize that, the sooner they’ll be able to stop convincing themselves that they ever had more than three episodes of material.

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“Is this going to rip my nipples off?”

As I know that you’ve been reading along with my previous three episode recaps of the mesmerizing E! reality series What Would Ryan Lochte Do?, you know that my consistent and greatest complaint about this otherwise revolutionary TV series is that they’re cramming way too much into each episode. This week’s episode, “… If He Got Plastered?” brings my complaint to center stage, because after four episodes, this sucker is gassed. That’s terrible news for an 8-episode show.

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“I met Jaimee in Las Vegas.”

Before I get to this week’s recap of the third episode of E!’s brilliant new reality series, What Would Ryan Lochte Do?, I want to share my semi-depression over a missed opportunity. I like to believe that I have my finger forever tapped into the pulse of my beloved Orlando, and if there’s going to be a celebrity appearance, I usually know about it. So as I watched WWRLD last night, I was a little miffed that I never received my VIP passes to the Orlando Grand Prix back in February to watch Ryan Lochte place first in the races that were included in this week’s episode and not win the other races that were excluded, including the one race that he was disqualified from.

But I was even more upset to learn that Lochte was JEAHing it up at an Orlando nightclub this past Saturday night, and I could have met up with him and fulfilled my dream of watching him hit on women in person. Some people want to watch LeBron James dunk, but I’d rather watch Lochte dish out classic lines like, “Hey girl, potato.” I guess that in my quest to completely understand one man’s existence, I’ve lost track of my own.

We live, we learn, we watch this show so you don’t have to.

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“My life is like a Seinfeld.” – Ryan Lochte

The biggest problem with What Would Ryan Lochte Do? is that the season is only eight episodes long. For the people who aren’t watching this show – which, according to early ratings numbers, is A LOT of people – eight episodes is probably eight too many. However, for the sake of the show and what Ryan and Co. are trying to accomplish, it’s simply not enough. There are just too many story lines being shoe-horned into each half-hour episode, and it’s taking away from the things that actually matter.

Yes, friends, there are things that actually matter in this otherwise unremarkable series, and I feel like I need a shower just for trying to find a redeeming quality in something that plays out like porn without sex or full nudity. But as you peel back each layer of the mor-onion and fight through the tears of laughter, you eventually find that there’s a very sweet spot at the center.

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You know the old saying, broseph: “If at first you don’t succeed, bro, try again or something”. I like to imagine that phrase is tattooed around Ryan Lochte’s arm in a cursive font, so when he rips his shirt off at a bar, he points to it and says, “Hey babe, check this out… Socrates said that. Wanna make out?” And then he licks the side of her face while she vomits into the bar well, because that’s how our hero rolls.

Anyway, try try again as he might, Lochte is back on Funny or Die, this time free from the spotlight hog known as Patrick Stewart, and he’s pretending that he has his own fragrance called, “Pool Water”. Spoiler alert: it’s a 1:28 pee joke.

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According to UK’s Metro, Kate Upton is the second hottest woman in the world, and that must be true because lists are legitimate ways of determining everything. Watch this: The World’s Most Handsome Man? Me. No. 2 is Brad Pitt. That can’t be argued because it’s a list, and so the world keeps spinning in this incredible Internet era.

The hottest woman in the world, according to Metro, is 25-year old Michelle Keegan, who I have never heard of before and in this photo she looks like Ashlee Simpson, so I just laughed and laughed. Anyway, there’s no need for Upton to be upset, because there’s one man out there who still thinks she’s special, and that’s none other than our favorite confused celebrity athlete – Ryan Lochte.

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