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The Bachelor: Gallery of Bitches

31 Oct

Step right up!  Step right up!  Have a throw for your chance to take home your very own over-stuffed Bachelor!

It was all fairgrounds and halls of mirrors tonight, but first off, my apologies for missing last week’s episode.  I was v busy trying to be a regular human and buy groceries.

I am going to talk about this week’s ep, but I NEED to just drop a mention here of poor Sarah getting the boot last week. I won’t say I was surprised Tim let her go, but, hot damn, the way she went was another story!   Tim tried to get all sensitive and, “Can I talk to you over here?” type thing.  But again, girlfriend was just not having it, ignoring him and sashaying her way outta there!  I gotta say this new, improved Sarah seems like my kinda chick.  Don’t sweat it, honey, you’re only 22.  Bachelor Vague Face looks far beyond his 30 years.  He’ll probably be in hospital with skin cancer by 2018 with all that topless running he does.  Particularly now that over-enthusiastic Penny isn’t around to rub sunscreen into his naked chest.

And speaking of topless running; breathe a sigh of relief, ladies!  Tim was back to his old self again, jogging down the NSW coast without his shirt on and contemplating the difficulties of shaving whilst still maintaining acceptable levels of chin stubble. For realz, it seems like all he does (apart from run and date crazy bitches) is shave.  But I have yet to see him appear without a five o’clock shadow.  What the crap?

Moving on…

This week, Katherine, (previously known as Which One Is That Again?) finally got some special alone time with Bachelor Bench Press.  He was quite adamant that this particular outing would really top all of his other efforts.  He pretty much says that every week, so I’ve stopped listening.  Nevertheless, Katherine was whisked away to a private (i.e. empty) amusement park with the chance to get a glimpse of Tim’s dagwood dog, ifyouknowwhaddamean?

Now, hear me out.  I’m all for a cute, spontaneous date at a fun park.  Any adult knows driving about in those dodgem cars is a great way to vent pent-up sexual frustration.  And anything that involves stuffed toys and showbags is my kinda jam.  However, taking a lady to an essentially abandoned amusement park at night is just cer-eepy!  Come on Tim, scary-ass clown heads and ghost trains?  An amusement park is not an amusement park without rude carnies and screeching children vomiting up their fairy floss.  Without them, all you’ve got is an episode of CSI.  So, it really wasn’t Katherine’s fault she didn’t get a rose.  That’s all I’m sayin.

Meanwhile, the other four bitches were left to ponder Kath’s fate amongst their Lincraft-ridden mansion, before being taken to an art gallery for a group date.  Obvi, us intelligent viewers knew there was a perfectly good reason why they were being taken there that had nothing to do with brush strokes. However, watching those chicks pretend they gave a shit about art was worth the 15 minutes I waited online for the episode to load. Especially Danielle’s apt use of the word ‘interpretating’.  Seriously, is this show scripted?!

However, bitches were soon to discover that the art gallery was really *gasp* a gallery of THEM!  Gosh that’s special.   I won’t waste too much time re-living the horror and the embarrassment; all you need to know is that Rochelle did beauty pageants and Ali used to wear a Tammy hat to school (a hideous Scottish-looking beret with a large pom-pom).

The big drama to come out of this exercise was that poor Tim felt that Rochelle was hiding part of herself by not previously disclosing her v controversial beauty queen past.  Mate, come on, it’s not something any self-respecting bitch is going to splash across the front page.  It’s a bit like auditioning for a reality TV show where you compete against other crazy women to get a guy to marry you….oh wait.  Anyhoo, Rochelle in all her fake wisdom claimed she used to ‘suffer massive anxiety’ and thought getting into pageants would help rid her of this affliction.  Babe, you didn’t look too anxious in that Crocodile Dundee onesie and tiara you were spotted in.

But lucky for Rochelle, Tim accepted her lurid past, pink sashes and all, and sent Katherine home sans rose for being ‘too guarded’.  That’s Bachelor speak for ‘not putting out’.  Between you and me, she was far too normal to continue on.  Tootle-oo Katherine.

So five become four, and the remaining crazies get to take Bachelor Chimple home to their (most likely) shame-faced families next week.  We already got an early taster of Anna’s father questioning Tim on his stripper days.  Let’s hope he’s brushed up on his bad acting skills, because I ACTUALLY CANNOT WAIT.

Thanks for playing ladies…

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The Bachelor: Bitches Ahoy!

17 Oct

Crazies off the port bow!

Last time we met, I was salivating over the bitches of ‘The Bachelor’ fannying about on a farm in designer boots and wool-blend vests.  This week, the motley crew landed in Western Australia, but not before sailing the seven seas and (for one lucky nutcase) stomping through mangroves for crabs.  The sea creature, not the STD.

Within the first five minutes of the group setting off for Broome, we had Ali proclaiming how excited she was and that she really really hoped Tim would be there.  *face palm*.  Don’t worry, sweetheart, I think it’s safe to say he and his shirtless pecs will be involved.

My bestie has so accurately nicknamed her Terrifying Disney Princess.  Seriously.  Can’t you just imagine sexy dress-ups at her house?  Nightmares.

Anyway, turns out Bachelor Chesty Bonds was waiting for them aboard a luxury catamaran aptly titled ‘Karma’.  High-five channel 10.  But der-rama struck when Natalie lamented that she had a serious phobia of boats and would not be going.  Gurl, that ain’t no boat.  That a floating high-class brothel.  With alcohol. If there was ever an appropriate time to face your fears, this be it!

Turns out they can’t hear me when I yell at them through the television screen and Natalie firmly remained on land.  But didn’t you just love the cinematography of her looking forlornly out to sea whilst reclining on a beachside hammock?  What a terrible affliction she must be living with.  (Secretly I think she was too afraid to go swimming in case the others noticed her man junk, just bee tee dubs.  Too harsh?)

But poor old Nat was quickly forgotten and the bitches were all half-naked and frisky before you could say ‘nip slip’.  And nip slip indeed, when lawyer-whose-never-had-a-boyfriend-Anna expertly backflipped off the boat and ‘accidentally’ lost her bikini top in the process.  Well bloody played.  It’s like we could be related.

It should be mentioned at this point that I’ll-take-any-opportunity-I-can-get-Penny was fast taking over Ali in the GlennClose/Fatal Attraction stakes.  Her desperation was more obvious than her hair extensions.  Rubbing that sunscreen onto Tim’s firm, bronzed chest like her life depended on it.  But lucky for her, the Goddess of Crazy smiled and for her efforts Pen got some alone time with Bachelor Wet Head. And that was when Shit. Got. Real.

The lights dimmed and it was like the soundtrack to ‘Dirty Dancing’ struck up in the background.  This was Penny’s big moment.  And she screwed it in the most royal and entertaining way.  It was quite literally the definition of word vomit.  It was like ALL the feelings were just busting out all over the place. At one point, Tim made the very astute observation that she was crying.  “It’s joy!” She exclaimed as the waterworks streamed down her face.  Babe, that ain’t joy.  That’s yo crazy spilling out of your body in liquid form.  Then all of a sudden she was talking about her epileptic cat and how her name’s Pepper and then the person experiencing the joy was yours truly, clapping with bitchy delight as this amazing moment unfolded in front of me.  The cameras barely touched on Bachelor Tim.  Probably for the best though, considering he has the emotional depth of a teabag.

It was just the most beautiful overshare I’ve ever seen.  You know like your batty old Aunty Doris who gets drunk at weddings and tells you about her dog’s bowel movements?  It was better than that.  Because, unlike Penny, Doris isn’t trying to impress you.  She’s just happy to be talking to someone with functioning ears.  Penny is on a show trying to get this hunk of man meat to marry her!  It will go down as one of my Top 5 moments of the season.

The one-on-one date this week went to Anna.  Again.  And don’t try and tell me it wasn’t because she got her boobs out. The other bitches were SO PISSED.  But, just quietly, going crabbing in the mud is not my ideal date situation.  So they didn’t really miss much.

 Later, at the cocktail party, Tim, flexed his observational muscles again, saying the gathering seemed very quiet.  Considering the eight bitches that are left have been living together for weeks on end and trying to get the same man to fall in love with them, it’s really no surprise they’d tired of discussing lipgloss and cosmetic surgeons.

But then, surprisingly, Sarah was getting all up in his grill.  It was bloody great.  Because up until now, the woman had been coming off as so sweet she was giving me diabetes.  But girlfriend was not having it this week!  She was all, “…try and understand it from my perspective,” and really gave Tim’s resting vague face a good workout. (Speaking of resting faces, doesn’t Danni just have the most premium resting bitch face?)   And even better, when he offered Sarah a rose at the ceremony, there was no gushing, no sickening, “Of COURSE I will!”  All he got was, “Yep.”  And then she took that bloody rose and her newfound tude and Tyra Banks’d her way over to the other bitches.  Bravo.

As you might have guessed, poor Penny lost out.  Sweetie, you gave it all away.  If there’s one thing I know about men, it’s that they like a bit of mystery.  And veto the cat talk.  Come on, don’t say you weren’t surprised.  But I do hope she can salsa her way into some hunky, cat-loving man’s life one day.

Until next time me hearties.

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The Bachelor: Dear Channel Ten…

2 Oct

I can see what you’re doing.  And I am asking you nicely, to STOP.

PLEASE DON’T CANCEL ‘THE BACHELOR’!

Myself, and other reality television-fuelled scrubbers, need it in our lives.  We NEED those crazy white chicks on our screens once a week.  And if you take away this gift of pure trash, I, like the junkie I am, will dissolve into a hot mess of tears and attacks of the munchies.

Tonight, the message came in loud and clear:  We are kicking them bitches off in groups now.

Before I get ahead of myself though, allow me the honour of re-capping some of the events of tonight’s episode.

Bachelor Hair Gel took all the ladies on a group date.  To a farm.  If there is one thing I love, it is watching crazy white chicks in ridiculous designer vests pretending to love life sick in nature.  It is just MADE for entertainment.  They milked a cow, for God’s sake!  Which led to the most sexually suggestive move I have seen (and been waiting for) all season.  Tim squirted milk onto Rochelle’s face and chest.  Cue the many ‘likes it in the face’ calls on twitter which I thoroughly enjoyed.  Mate, just be aware, the amino acids in milk can seriously damage botox deposits.  Just bee tee dubs.

Bachelor Tim claims he really wants his future wife to have an appreciation for the outdoors and for nature.  Dude, ‘Farmer Wants a Wife’ is on a another network.  These bitches are straight out of the Gasp loyalty club.  The closest thing they’ve gotten to nature is their authentic mink eyelash extensions, please.  Regardless, some of them fed baby lambs, others baby cows.  There was a lot of baby animals going on tonight.  Then after herding sheep, Bachelor Muscle Shirt announces they’re going to have a “traditional barn dance”.  Like from Grade 6.  I just died and went to heaven.

After a quick session of macking on with Anna, the day was complete, and Natalie, the brunette who looks like a drag queen, got a one-on-one date.  However, before this could happen, we had to have some Bachelor reflection time and, shut the front door, he WASN’T running along the beach shirtless!  The weather in Sydney must be really shitty, or Channel Ten know that we know that Tim is actually a stripper.  And they need to do some major damage control.  So instead of having a beach side shower, Tim was found tinkering on a beautiful baby grand piano.  I mean, for realz.  HE AIN’T PLAYING THAT THING!  This is what I mean;  this show is worth watching just for the simple effort they put in.

Anyway, during their date in the bowels of a bloody cave, Natalie admitted that she didn’t see Tim as “husband material” yet, because she hadn’t gotten to know him completely.  Seriously, this girl needs to go.  She’s far too rational.  We need us dem crazy bitches.  Sorry, Nat.

At the rose ceremony, Bachelor Velvet Suit took Ashley aside to have a little chat.  Wait, whats that you say?  Who’s Ashley?  What an excellent question.  I had no bloody idea.  But evidently, she had made a pact with Alana and Belle that whenever they had time with Tim, it was OK for the others to jim in.  Which they did.  Again, going with the Grade 6 theme here.  And then came the cray.  And that was the point I put down my block of Cadbury and got a wee bit excited.  Gosh, they were all so frustrated and impatient (i.e. drunk).  Was Tim EVER going to spend time with them?  Did he have ANY intention of getting to know them?  Poor bloke was totally ganged up on and it was AMAZING!  His default expression of complete blankness got a real workout.

Then came the roses.  And that’s when shit got scary.  I noticed there were two roses to go. And five crazy white chicks still waiting.  Now, I may only be a Drama major, but I’m pretty sure that means that three of them were going home empty-handed.  And I was not OK with that.  You can’t whittle them down that quickly!  And worse still, he kicked out the craziest ones, in other words, the interesting ones.  Alana with her Days of Our Lives hair.  Belle with her rose quartz and magic horny dog.  And Ashley with her…um…something.  (I was, however, slightly placated when wide-eyed-slack-jawed-Ali got her rose and awkwardly whispered “I miss you” into his ear.  Girlfriend needs to be hosed down.)

How can you do this to me, Channel Ten?  You can’t start eliminating multiple bitches without warning.  Nekk minnit, you’ll start rolling out the Special Double Episodes, the ‘chiropractor’ will prematurely pick a wife and my life will have no meaning.

Each week after I’ve eaten food mostly from packets and ventured outside my house without a bra on, I can turn on ‘The Bachelor’ and be reminded that I am actually a smart and normal person.  So really, it’s a community service.

Be warned, Channel Ten, I see what you’re playing at and I am not down with that.

Game on, molls.

What shows have you loved and then had some horrible network cancel on you?  How on earth did you get through it? I’d love to hear your comments.

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The Bachelor: Prick From a Rose

16 Sep

“Will you accept this rose?”

Damn straight I will!  Why?  Because there is nothing I love more than watching 25 single, desperate women with enough botox and fake tan to put Heidi Montag to shame, competing for the affections of an eternally shirtless ‘chiropractor’.

Come on, we all gave a little snigger when pensive Dr Tim explained how hard it was being a ‘chiropractor’ and having no time to find love, all the while running down the beach in little more than a loin cloth.  Seriously, the producers of ‘The Bachelor’ must have v expensive water bills considering all the bloody beachside showers that man is having!

But despite all of this I am totally and utterly digging on this show in the most shameless way.

Not so much because of Dr Boardshorts, but more because of all the CRAZY BITCHES TRYING TO MAKE HIM FALL IN LOVE WITH THEM!  It really is just the most hilarious concept for a TV show and I just cannot help but love it hard.  I used to think eating a large packet of peanut M’n’Ms in my underwear was a good day, but this is way better.  And much better for my ass.

As you would know, the premise is that Dr Chisel Face spends time getting to know these nutcases by taking them on individual and group dates, and then at the end of the episode, he hands out a single red rose to the ones he wants to keep around; the ones he believes are one step closer to being ‘Mrs Fake Doctor’.  Can you just hear the Celine Dion soundtrack in the background?

At this early stage of the competition it is very hard for me to pick a fav.  However, there are some obvi standouts who are already giving Kimberley from Melrose Place a run for her money and crazy pills. And she is not even a real person.

First of all there is Ali, or as she is called in my house, Doe-Eyed Crazy.  Seriously, the girl couldn’t be in a more perpetual state of awe if she was sucking on laughing gas.  The poor pet got a little too eager on the first night and tried to plant one on unsuspecting ‘chiropractor’ Tim.  And he awkwardly pushed her off.  For reals, you couldn’t MAKE better television!

My other fav is Bianca.  Or Sav Blanca.  In a word, she’s a drunk.  And for that reason alone I like her.  I feel like the ‘Fitness Model’ thing is a lie and she’s really just a recovering junkie doing her community service on national television.  But she’s got some serious tude.  And a speech impediment.

Mention must also go to whiny Laura whose damsel in distress act is starting to get really old.  Almost as old as Penny, the 35-year-old fitness instructor who likes to salsa and wear terrible hair extensions.  Gosh, it’s like this show was made just for me!

I think the other reason I like this show so much is because it also makes me angry.  It’s just a Naomi Campbell bitch slap in the face to feminism (and every other remotely independent woman-type movement ever made).  I mean, these 25 women are COMPETING for a man to fall in love with them!  And they all live together in the same house while they do it.  I mean, it’s the first rule of multiple dating, bro – keep those bitches separate!  But I realise this is the whole premise of the show and, consequently, a moot point.

And while we’re on it, what the shit is going on with host Osher Gunsberg?  No no, I haven’t had a momentary episode of dyslexia, the man previously known as Andrew G slash Andrew Ginsberg has gone on some spiritual and professional quest to America and come back with a wanky name change.  Don’t worry, I looked it up online (I totally research) and evidently he met some wise shaman while holidaying in Israel who told him his name had bad energy around it and he was heading down a path of ‘destruction and sadness’.  Very ‘Eat Pray Love’! Look, I’m no expert, but I think this had more to do with the fact that he’d been working on some of the worst television shows ever created and someone was pissed.  But I digress.  The point?  Osher is actually ridiculous.  Only Prince can get away with that shit.

The other thing I love about ‘The Bachelor’ is the ridiculous ‘acting’.  Like last night, when seven unsuspecting bitches were taken out into the Australian sand dunes for a group date.  When Dr Wet Hair made his big entrance over the top of the dunes like Indiana Jones, GOSH it was dramatic!  They were all so shocked and impressed that it was him!

WHO THE EFF ELSE DID YOU EXPECT IT TO BE?!

But again, it may seem like I am bagging on this show, but quite the contrary.  It has allowed me to truly understand the meaning of guilty pleasure. It’s like when you go off carbs and get a cheat meal on Sundays.  It’s that massively greasy pizza and tub of ice-cream you shove down your throat.  Bloody good for the soul.  Because watching it reminds me that I am actually an awesome person with half a brain cell and natural breasts.  Mind you, the women on this show haven’t had a pizza or ice-cream since they were in nappies, so you gotta shed a tear for them in that regard too.

And I urge you to watch it.  Just prop your eyelids open with a couple of match sticks and force yourself to witness the excruciating drama unfolding.

Then come and gossip about it with me like we actually know these people.  It’ll be amaze.

And stay tuned. I don’t imagine this will be the last time you hear of me, Dr Used-To-Be-A-Stripper.

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