The Bitchelor Episode 3 – The bloody Crickets On: One Woman’s Reflux


#DoucheDate #TheBachelorNZ #TheBitchelor

It’s episode three and finally the producers have cut the mindless foreplay and the show opens with Arty topless. I’m so excited I might descale the kettle. The cricket world cup semi between South Africa and New Zealand is on. This means I have a huge added responsibility as no one else in the country is watching this shit. It’s just me and a couple of unsupervised teenage girls with self-esteem that’s sinking faster than the show’s ratings and whose parents should be arrested for negligence.

I will try extra hard to try and share xactly how cringe worthy this instalment is.

(Three overs in and the Black Caps are 32-0 in pursuit of 298)

Since last week of course the news that Poppy let one rip has made international news. This week Poppy is relegated to the side-lines as the ladies who can control their flatulence move up the Bachelors ladder.

TDB Recommends

Farting, after all, just isn’t ladylike.

The one on one date is announced with the promise that the higher you go the bigger the fall. I bet a few are shitting themselves right now. Poppy might still be in with a chance after all. The date is for Matilda who works for Media Works. How handy. She arrives at her date in her sponsored chariot, a Suzuki Swift (still not judging).

The date is super romantic and they both still manage to look beautiful and sexy while wearing boiler suits and climbing the Harbour Bridge. Matilda then gamely throws herself off it, proving to Arty the lengths she is willing to go to for his love. Arty follows and unfortunately survives. Talking of hurling they then have a picnic, still wearing their hard hats. Dating is bloody dangerous.

It is super romantic and Matilda and Arty discover that they both just want to find love and have babies. This is awesome. They are on the same page, but it’s also the same page that poopy pop off Poppy was on last week.


(Black Caps remain 71-0 after six overs)

Back at the house that isn’t a mansion and has no pool they announce the group date. Pretty much it’s the ones that didn’t go on the boat last week. I still haven’t got their names sorted but it doesn’t really matter till we get down to the real contenders. The ones that are actually willing to sell their souls or do something truly memorable like fart.

The group date involves them racing Raleigh cars so that Arty can check out their competitive side as opposed to just their plain bitchie side. Really it’s a chance to reinforce another stereotype. LOL! Women drivers ha ha ha ! Hysterical. One of them couldn’t drive a manual. MWAHAHA.

One of the Christie’s does the fastest time and wins time with Arty at the top of a hill decorated with decimated trees. Surrounded by dead wood, under a pop up gazebo. Christie didn’t drop her guts she spilled them. She talked about her walls and how she isn’t tough and then I vomited so I missed a bit.

Back at the house it’s time for the cocktail party and this is where the sponsors get their money worth. The women stand around awkwardly talking to another, vying for space in too tight frocks (that you can purchase, details are on the website)

The aggressively determined Chrystal, (not to be confused with the not as tough as she looks Crystal) who does yoga and has the jaws soundtrack, pissed everyone off by kissing Arty!!!!. He didn’t turn into a prince or a frog. He’s still just a bloke with good abs who couldn’t get lucky on Tinder and even on a TV show surrounded by ladies competing to have his children manages to be less interesting than removing the burnt on grease around the elements. (Once I started on the kettle…..) Then Dani crashed the conversation between Arty and Chrystal before the evil one managed to force him into a downward dog and show him her bridge.

(Black Caps require 221 runs from 35.0 overs at 6.31 per over)
The rose ceremony starts and three roses are already in play. Only one is getting ditched.

But wait ….a twist. Well it would be a twist if the local media hadn’t already broken the news that one of them had to leave the show because she was fraudulent. Oh wait up. How does that even make sense? A fake bachelorette gets the boot for pretending to be something she isn’t on a show about manipulated relationships.

I have no idea how many ladies are left. From what I can see still far more than he deserves and Poppy!

Meanwhile the Black Caps are staring down the barrel of a gun aimed at a bathroom. It could all turn to shit with one wicket.


  1. Are you related to Dickie Bird, the famous umpire? Anyway, that aside, like you, I didn’t watch much of the Batchelor, I was watching a few maidens getting bowled per over (and it wasn’t because of Poppy’s squeaky bowels).

    The ladies at work are torn between watching The Batchelor for its romance at receiving a rose and its absurdity that it’s the man that does the choosing in a relationship conquest.

    It’ll be a more even contest tomorrow, unless India are winning, or unless Poppy has been eating any capsicum. But tonight, I’ll sleep deeply, knowing that in the fantasy, reality world of TV, men choose the women. But then again, dreams are free – relatively speaking.

  2. “Christie didn’t drop her guts she spilled them.”

    Kate, this is the funniest one yet. (And still littered with comma errors mate!)

    Yey the Black Caps!

    • This is writing under huge pressure. There’s the time constraint and the nausea. It means my normally sloppy spelling and grammar deteriorate to even less than national standards. Martyn Bradbury, the editor of The Daily Blog, has committed to proofing. Please address all complaints to him.

      I don’t read my own work.
      ( I did notice an excellent without an e)

    • ” Comma errors Mate ! ” WTF ? Do people actually talk like that ?? Amazing .
      ” Yay , the Black Caps ?? ” Bewildering .

      Just like The Bachelor and cricket , I’m amazed and bewildered at what some people think is important when our country’s being ransacked and pillaged by sociopaths .

      Who are the ‘ Black Caps ‘ being advertising hoardings for these days by the way ? Who advertises during the avalanche of crassness that is The Bachelor ? Who provides the debt one must get into to buy the twinkle-sparkle that’s being rammed down the throats of the Great Comatose Consumer ?
      Am I right in thinking that someone farted on The Bachelor and that , that fart made world headlines ? That would mean then that I’d go Multiple-Universe .

      How about ; Naked, handsome, man-cricket with dancing girls in G strings ?? How about marathon runnng with erections ? A new game ! Full contact Breast Charge ! I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination . That’d sell stuff !

      Uuugh ! Just a little bit of sick .

      • Countryboy, you need to put your head between your knees and breathe deeply. You will pop a vein in your neck.

        I spend a lot of time on The Daily Blog, reading, commenting and then I spread the word at work about TPPA, FJK, GCSB, FYI. Yes I watched one episode of The Batchelor and some of last night’s and I enjoyed Kate’s writing last week and this. I need light relief, because trying to spread the word about the excesses of Key and his cabal, is harrowing work because of the Natz control of media, the polls. sports and frankly it’s draining living in a one party state dictatorship.

        So, Poppy popping one off on the beach is light relief (although if they ever invented Smellovision, it wouldn’t be as pleasant light relief).

        Keep up the great work Kate, comma, it helps keep me sane in the land of the deepening blue cloud..

  3. Beautiful writing, Kate, and this comes from an aged teacher who has had to read and mark so many essays written by poor little kids who did not want to write them… But every desert contains a number of wonderful oases, and you are one of them.

  4. One woman’s reflux is a highlight of my week. Thankyou for making my nightly online newsy catchup that much more entertaining.

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