The singularly boring Bachelorettes, our stereophonic bogans, commenced another round of double dating this week.
Obviously aware of the constraints of the pandemic the producers have opted for super remote locations. What could be more romantic than a double ‘shit your pants dunny date’, hanging off the side of a suspended cable car, sipping cheap spew-manti, and hoping like heck that the cables don’t break...? Not to mention, the safety harness restricting blood flow to vital areas during the suspended pash...
Frazer our concrete pourer was attempting to cement his position as a frontrunner but before he went over the edge, the producers fitted him with adult sized huggies to avoid unseemly seepage into the valley below and maintain his Uber rating and again Greta proofing the program.
Our man of concrete was clearly pushing the boundaries.
From personal experience guys will do almost anything to impress a chick, and he was suitably rewarded with a giant eco-pash. The romantic exchange during this death defying moment was gripping. So were the huggies protecting his high wire sausage?
Note to producer's, guys, the show is so boring you need to spice it up.. Perhaps an intruder? A 3rd bride-to-be? I know someone who has just come back on the market..
Another covid remote location approved by the NSW Health Department, was the traditional climb of the coathanger. Overalls were supplied by the Department of Corrective Services and our star crossed lovers were serenaded by a “would be” pop star fulfilling diversity quotas. Pete and Becky tripped the light fantastic whilst literally enjoying one of the best views in the world. Please note Daniel Andrews the manifest superiority of Sydney to Melbourne is once again demonstrated, it’s no fucking contest. You will never host the Bachelor or Bachelorette.
STICK TO YOUR NEW SHOW "LOCK DOWN CITY".
In an effort to restore the program to the entertainment category, the producers decided to embark upon the Bachelorettes’ version of ‘Australia’s Got Talent’. I, like the rest of the nation was transfixed when Joey the tradie demonstrated that he has an uncanny resemblance to Rudoph Nereyev. Just a reminder here was Joey throwing himself around the stage.
The performance overwhelmed the audience and the girls were left dribbling at the sight of a real man in tights, a real hot dog, sausage and great buns. Yes it was better than Bunnings on a Saturday morning...
Not to be outdone, the entire cast of Bachelorette Contestants yet again displaying classic Australian comradeship joined Joey on stage for an impromptu encore, which was a real show stopper and a magic moment in the series.
This was inspired television and I was developing a new respect for reality TV. But unfortunately, there is always a critic
With lycra tights stress tested beyond all safety endurance recommendations the other winner was a bald man sticking his hand up the backside of a dummy with an Italian accent. No Locky was not returning for a cameo, he doesn't have an italian accent. Interflora advised the producers that a rose crop failure had forced the price of roses higher and in a pre-emptive strike they decided to toss 4 sausages off the BBQ. (and save 4 bucks a rose)
A gripping rose ceremony saw Adrian survive despite being positively self-outed as the original sausage party animal.
Episode 4 introduced a sinister element not seen on the Bachelor series for a number of years. The Bachelorette bogans embedded their inbred cousin and bestie, Mitch and Damo, (pronounced Day-mo) to spy on the lads as they chauffeured them to their next Covid FREE destination date. The garrulous Pascal trash talked his way into the reality TV Hall of Fame on the minibus, little did he realise that he was under the surveillance of Becky’s own… Mr Bond, James Bond...
Yes poor self deluding Pascal was roundly denounced by all the lads who closed ranks like true sausages in tights. DISRESPECTFUL AND INAPPROPRIATE RATSCAL. Poor self deluding Pascal was then asked to leave..
Spare a thought for our friend Harry the "Cuntry Rothe", yet again in another inspired moment of masculine honesty, the poor lad, could not handle the separation from his little boy and decided to retire from the field with his dignity and lithp in tact.
The thothages, sorry, sausages are thinning and the girls are grinning. They mean business. Babies, mortgages and school fees. Ain't love magnificent?
Never give up on love - JD
JD Watt, author of the book “BURNT”; the shocking true story of a woman’s deception and a man’s broken heart, is a divorced, devastatingly handsome, affluent single 51-year-old professional. He lives in the wealthy Eastern Suburbs of Sydney Australia. He is also a blogger giving his advice on love, relationships, sex and dating from the perspective of a middle-aged guy having learnt so much from his decade long search for “the one”. Intelligent, established, sophisticated, cultured, honest, kind, loving, generous, tall and handsome.
He offers advice on relationships and how to read the signs, so you never get “BURNT”. JD believes in love and so should you. BURNT by JD Watt is available on Amazon, Kindle and on online Booksellers globally. Download or buy your copy today.
JD Watt is not a psychologist or therapist; he bases his advice and opinions on his own life experience.