The Bachelor is just about to start. We're down to the Final Four tonight. I'm ready to feel superior and self-righteous and smug, oh my.

Allow me to indulge in a few predictions.

First, the ladies will dress in ways designed to remind us all of why it's the first syllable that's accented in titillated.

Then, there will be long intense looks, tearful confessions, and dramatic statements about "falling in love."

Then there will be the pre-rose-ceremony interviews, with their unique style of smug insecurity - "I'm really scared of being sent home, but I'm pretty confident that we're meant to be together forever."

Then Captain Obvious, er, Chris Harrison, will come in just before the last rose, as though there's one person in the surrounding county who doesn't know precisely how to count to one, and announce, "Ladies, this is the final rose of the evening." And I will be reminded anew of what a genius that man is, finding a way to ride the Bachelor juggernaut all the way to the end, while still managing to be married and have children and generally look paternalistically amused at all of this silliness.

I'm, like, psychic or something.