Plumlovely thoughts
Wednesday, 3 May 2017
The Bachelor Games
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Saturday, 1 April 2017
Bad Meme-ories
When I wake up in the morning I do not prowl around the
house looking for coffee to remedy some sort of psychotic rage that is
unquenchable by any other drink. Nor do
I start counting down the hours till I can start pouring unchecked amounts of
wine down my throat, whilst simultaneously hypnotically ingesting as much
chocolate as possible. It might be
surprising to know that my husband doesn’t have to hide my credit card and live
in constant fear that I’m going to spend the mortgage money on a rampant
shopping and shoe habit.
When I idly scroll through facebook to keep up to date with
what my friends and family are up to and to inform myself of the local and
international happenings within my grasp, I often find memes that evoke a ‘ffs’
and an eye-roll response. Frequently I
am bombarded with ridiculous memes, many of them that make woman look like
drunken, chocolate gorging, out of control idiots. Worse still, it’s mostly woman perpetuating
this stereotype. Clearly these are not
my women. Women that willingly, even
proudly, label themselves as shallow, materialistic, laughing lushes!
Sure I like coffee, but I also like to KEEP THINGS IN
PERSPECTIVE! If I can’t have coffee in
the morning I can still be a nice, level-headed, functioning human being. Removing coffee from the morning is not like
taking a battery out of a battery operated unit, humans still function. If you are an arsehole in the morning and
coffee is the cure then for goodness sake, make sure that you NEVER run out of
coffee, and since your affliction mostly affects those that you are being an
arsehole to, you should be kind enough to wake up first and drink your morning
dose before anyone else has to bear the brunt of your crippling ailment. Also remember, it’s you who has the problem –
and it’s most likely all in your needy head.
I like wine. I don’t
think about it all day, or rush in the door after work with shaking hands
searching for the nearest bottle of wine and a massive glass. I like to enjoy wine with friends on social
occasions, and I don’t need to invent social occasions just to have an excuse
to drink. Such is my lack of drinking skills that I even
have a pretty pitiful tolerance and am on my way to laughy, happy feelings
after just a couple of glasses. I don’t
think of wine as a solution as soon as something goes wrong in my life like all
the stupid fucking memes suggest. Like ‘oops,
I’ve just crashed my car – wine’ or a similarly stupid solution to a multitude
of ordinary problems. If you think that
a wine dispenser on your fridge would be a great idea, or replumbing your house
so that beer comes out of your taps instead of water, what you’ve actually got
is a drinking problem which no amount of affirming memes are going to make
ok. Pull your socks up ffs! Just act like a normal person, like me, who
occasionally gets shit-faced and smokes cigarettes.
I am a fat, greedy pig.
I like chocolate, sure. But I am not a fuckin lunatic! Let me make it
pretty clear, I can walk past chocolate without flinching, I can eat a piece
and not need to eat the whole block. You
will not be able to bribe me with chocolate. If you do know a woman who seems
hypnotically attracted to the charms of chocolate and loses all willpower and
dignity around a bar of the brown stuff then steer clear – that bitch is quite
obviously crazy. Apparently some women
think that they can hear chocolate talking to them – clearly they’ve found
something in common with nutty chocolate.
I don’t have many pairs of shoes. I like shoes, and yeah I like shopping now
and again. Here’s how many times I go
shopping a year – maybe five to ten times.
I don’t sneak out of the house with a credit card tucked in my back
pocket hoping my husband won’t find out and I certainly don’t take him shopping
with me. WHY THE HELL WOULD YOUTAKE YOUR HUSBAND/BOYFRIEND SHOPPING?!!! On pay day I don’t start planning what things
I’m going to buy myself or spend all the mortgage money on extravagant and
unnecessary items. I spend basically
none of my time dreaming about shopping.
I feel like I’m suffocating just thinking of all the things I would have
if I did have this shallow and materialistic ‘hobby’.
What I’m trying to say here is GET SOME BLOODY PERSPECTIVE!!!!
You don’t NEED Coffee, Wine, Chocolate and Shopping to exist on earth and be a
nice person. All you really need is shelter, water and food and if you don’t
have one of those things then you truly have permission to get a bit wild and
desperate. I bet you won’t be wasting time
updating facebook about it ‘lookout everybody, got no water, going batshit
crazy #musthavewater’.
Sunday, 11 December 2016
Why Christmas Makes Me See Red!
Getting fired up over Christmas! I feel triggered! |
‘Tis the season to be jolly fucked off I reckon, especially
in my family where we have two birthdays in December as well (followed by two
in fucking Jolly January). I totally
wish that I got as excited as a cherubic, naive, little child as the month of
December inched ever closer with its giant sleigh of financial and time burdens
in tow, but alas – those days are over for this Grinch bitch.
Here’s how Christmas could be great for me. Someone, maybe a fairy godmother type
ethereal being, turns up with a Christmas tree, switches on some Christmas
music, decorates the house with the sights, sounds and smells of Christmas,
wraps presents noisily and excitedly in a nearby room, offers me chocolates and
creates a menu for Christmas Day that they are going to execute with zero help
from me.
They arrange for all my loved ones to come together in one
giant, peaceful, happiness fest, and organise suitable accommodation so that we
can all be together in a happy haze as though we’ve all just downed Christmas ecstasy
pills with our rose champagne. Any mess would just magically disappear in the
twinkling of a Christmas angel’s eye, as though it had never even been
there. The only evidence of Christmas approaching
would be a gently rising excitement flushing over me, building up to the
equivalent of a Christmas orgasm.
Enough with the childish fantasies! This is what really
happens to me at Christmas. I can sense Christmas
Satan coming with his sleigh of evil elves.
The stores get viciously threatening by hanging their intimidating decorations
up, it’s a warning – Satan and his Christmas
Mafia are coming – you better pay up.
Time speeds up so that people look like they’re moving in fast forward
and yet I’m in that dream like state where I’m trying to run but nothing’s
happening. All around the warnings are
whispered insidiously into my mind ‘Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming...’
I can’t focus properly, the Christmas mafia are after me and
I still have two birthdays to take care of, and a work do to organise, and all
these end of year school events to attend. A lot of people start acting like evil elves
and furiously shop, do their gardening, clean their houses and take care of
their whole lives work as though the world is actually going to end on Christmas
Day! Some of the spiteful bastards see
me just getting on with normal life and are determined to make sure I’m aware
that Satan is coming, and they cleverly smile with their teeth and crinkly eyes
as they deliver the blood curdling question “have you done your Christmas
shopping yet?” I play it cool and
sinister and let them know – I’m doing mine at the last minute- that stops them
in their seasonal stride.
Even though I’m lurking in the shadows of Christmas and not
operating in the frenzied, fake, tinsel-fuelled hell that many people are, I’m
still subjected to annoying issues as a result of things like the sudden need
for everyone to drive into town and take all the parks. How the fuck am I supposed to feel Christmassy
when I can’t even get a park at the supermarket!!!
Despite the horrors of Xmas I still eventually have to force
myself to create the sort of atmosphere mentioned above for the sake of my
family’s enjoyment, and lifelong memories of joy that will sustain them
throughout their lives. So at the last
minute I will conjure up a delightful menu of food, heartfelt gifts, Christmas lilies
that make the house smell like Christmas smelled when I was a kid, and I will
kick Christmas’s ass! I will sweat out my dreams in the kitchen and enjoy the
sounds of my family enjoying themselves, and I will clean up even though I feel
like shooting a gun at a line up of Santas.
And the Christmas joy for me is knowing that my Mum did all
that for me and my siblings, and I loved it, that boxing day is the best day of
the Christmas holidays now for me, and that I have three kids who are teenagers
and eventually they will do all this, and I will enjoy a Christmas smorgasbord
of delight at their houses in the near future and then I will be singing Christmas
carols at the top of my awful voice.
Merry Fucking Christmas Everyone!
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Sunday, 2 October 2016
WOW Polly, Did you really say that!?
Stuff that's all terribly boring to Polly... |
I attended WOW (World of Wearable Arts Award Show) in the
weekend and it was mind-blowingly good.
My friends Mum was exceedingly generous in buying us some tickets and
enabling my long held desire to attend.
We made a day-long road trip together from Palmy to Wellington with just
enough time to check out David Jones, and then enjoy a mouth stimulating
cocktail near the waterfront at Foxglove before the show.
The day was already a winner before I’d even stepped into
the TSB Arena for WOW. It was in this wandering around Wellington stage that my
friend brought up Radio DJ Polly Gillespie’s ranty- tanty article about WOW. We both screwed up our faces and said “F*ck
her”. My friend had not even read the
article because she thinks Polly is just pathetic and won’t give her the time
of day anyway, but I just had to check it out.
Maybe she heard wrong, maybe, Polly who asks for so much tolerance and
understanding for herself, would never criticise something she had never even
seen, maybe it was a stitch up...
WOW! She did it!! Unbelievably
Polly took the time to weave a tale all about why she found WOW so annoying. She actually called her uninformed perspective
“anti-antsy-pantsy-arty-farty-fartiness”!
She went on to describe this world event of extremely high calibre “all
a bit of a craft project on steroids." She thinks WOW is a giant
inconvenience to her and her friends, who get exasperated by all the women that
come and get in their way in Wellington.
That’s fine to talk shit with your friends Polly, hell everybody does
that right? But to publicly talk shit and belittle people that find it
outrageous to buy a $500 t-shirt from your friends shop is just the height of
snobbery. Personally I think most of the Radio DJ’s on popular radio
are quite moronic (Vaughan Smith and Karen Hay are notable exceptions, as are
probably most people on National Radio) and I’m shocked that people can listen
without wanting to grate their ears off, but I wouldn’t usually pick a public
forum to air that . And besides, I’ve
got an audience of say a few hundred people at most, not the tens of thousands
that you probably have.
When you ask “What would Coco Chanel say for God's
sake?” well I imagine she wouldn’t waste her time talking to someone so ill-informed
about fashion as you, she’d probably go to WOW to recruit talent and rejuvenate
her soul. I also would like to point out that you are not living in “POLLYWOOD”,
but actually Wellington, where people like the arts a lot! It does seem that you think that WOW is “silly”
because it’s not all about you. Well
thank goodness because POLLYWOOD would not be a place I’d like to hang
out. Your stunningly cruel jibes about
how people outside of Wellington dress say nothing about them and everything
about you. You’re a mean girl Polly and
extremely selfish. Why couldn’t you just
say that shit to your friends and leave it at that?
So let me fill you in on the people that you have been
talking shit about. Well, for a start
Dame Suzie Moncrieff whose heartfelt write up at the beginning of the programme
should have you weeping tears of sorrow for your ‘silly’ words. This amazing woman spent her life making WOW
what it is and still feels passionate about she’s done. I want to cry with gratitude for the
inspiration that she is, if only you would cotton on Polly. The Directors from
Inside Out productions Mike Mizrahi and Marie Adams along with artist Reuben
Paterson who created this stunning show from threads of creativity inside their
heads probably and hopefully won’t be wounded by your mindless comment. Probably
Weta , who made the giant lifelike tiger that moved and spoke with Jermaine
Clements voice, they might feel a bit put out about it. Maybe Don Mcglashan who worked on the cleverly
chosen music that saturated our souls, or the lighting guy that had us
enthralled with at times terrifying and at times mesmerising light work might
feel a bit f*cked off Polly. Maybe the
dancers that kept the show pumping on a set that moved, a magical constantly
changing set, might feel miffed. How
about the designers that aren’t actually trying to make any type of clothing
that you might want to wear? That’s really silly Polly- WOW is about art, it’s
about showing just how amazing your skills are, what you can achieve when your
creativity and your skills combine. I’m not sure how long their designs take but I
could well imagine it would be months if not years of work. An award for your entry could be a career
defining moment in a young designer’s life, not to mention for the models,
dancers and all the cast and crew that create such an amazing spectacle.
Because I’ve seen how upset you get when people say bad
things to you, I am utterly gobsmacked at your ruthless casting aside of the
skills of such a huge bunch of talented people, basically anyone who
participates in the arts, and their appreciation society. At the very least you could have witnessed it
first hand before you commented.
I’d like you to suck
it up and go see a show Polly, buy a programme so you can read about the
amazing people behind the scenes, then, at least, you can comment with some
knowledge which would be a great turnaround from your ignorant uniformed rant.
I hope next year someone enters a design called Polly’s Big
Mouth, and that it takes up the whole stage and maggots fall out of it, or maybe
you could just open the show with a giant apology...
P.S. I drove my car all around Wellington and I hope I cut
you off...
probably not supposed to use this image. |
Monday, 11 July 2016
Stupid Market- Getting the Grosseries
Last week I was doing the dreaded grocery shopping on an average
Saturday morning. Whilst I used to enjoy
the experience of wandering along sizing up potential candidates of the food
kind to gain entry to my trolley, these days I just want to make a quick in and
out job of it. So, I was charging
through with list in hand, weaving in and out of all the other shopping zombies
hoping that I wouldn’t get in anyone’s way and that they wouldn’t get in mine.
That's right! |
Still, I am a fascinated observer of people and their
behaviour and there’re a few things that stand out to me while I’m rampaging
like a mad woman through the food palace:
Some people get really aggressive.
It’s like they believe they’re the only
person that finds food shopping to be annoying and everybody else is having a
gay old time and trying to make them angrier.
I really want to say to these shunters and grunters ‘hey, you know we’re
not having a party here either, we’re just managing our attitudes way better
than you are arsehole’.
Mums and Dads with their kids look at me with contempt:
especially if I have a small trolley.
Their gaze and body language is like a loaded gun with a finger on the
trigger. I can’t blame them, they’re in
the supermarket with children – there really isn’t anything much less enjoyable, or more stressful. Anyway, as I freely saunter
past looking relaxed, with my tiny trolley, I feel them shoot daggers into my
back as if to scream ‘you don’t know what it’s like to have kids you bitch,
wait till you end up like this’. Jokes
on them, I’ve been there done that, and that’s why I’m so free and happy now!
One thing I do find hard to understand is why anyone would
do the groceries with their partner?! I mean it’s not like it’s a date, or an
enjoyable outing of any kind. Surely it
would be about as enjoyable as cleaning the toilet together-yuck. It seems like the couple’s grocery shopping
thing might be all about insecurity and control. The supermarket being such a great place to
pick people up, I’m not so sure.
I don’t think it’s
all in my head though when I come round the corner with my trolley and straight
into the path of an oncoming couple to find the woman glaring at me and the man
nervously looking at his feet. FFS! If
you’ve got to keep your Man on such a tight lead while you bark and snarl off
to the side you’ve got some serious problems.
If my husband was coming to the supermarket and wanted to run off with
some chick doing her groceries then she’d be the one getting a shitty deal (I
don’t mean he’s a dick head or a bad lover- he’s not) because she would have
hooked herself an unfaithful man and I’d be free of one.
But last week, last week, oh my, this one took the
cake! So there I was marching around the
supermarket and I’m in about the second aisle when I come across a forty to
fifty year old couple with their trolley.
I hear him ask her ‘what are you after – Kremelta- or something?’ and
she confirms that yes that’s what she’s after but that it’s probably not down
this aisle.
You see at the moment
everybody is confused as fuck at the supermarket because they’ve done that
super annoying strategy of changing everything around in order to make their
customers disoriented, and keep people wandering around in there for longer. In a situation like that a lot of people help
each other out by asking and directing each other to the products they’re
after. So I made a mental note that that
couple were looking for Kremelta so if I were to see it, I’d let them know.
I couldn’t remember what the woman looked like because the
guy had been the one right in front of me.
He had a red cap on, jeans and a t-shirt and sports jacket. He had the big, rounded, soft belly of a beer
swilling rugby loving kiwi guy. He also
had a quite dated looking big bushy salt and pepper moustache.
As I rounded the corner to the next aisle
there he was right in front of me, and he had just found the kremelta. I did what I thought was normal and smiled at
him.
Just so you know. |
Well, he looked at me with contempt and anger for my freely
given smile, turned on his heel, made a beeline for his partner and planted a
big sloppy kiss on her face- right in front of me. As if that’s not kind of weird and creepy
enough he then turned and looked straight at me while he was pinching her on
the butt! Well, I guess he showed me
that I’ve got no chance with him!!!! What a shame, I was so looking forward to
kissing a bloody Neanderthal at the supermarket.
It strikes me that one could see all of this stupid market behaviour by watching a bunch of monkeys in the wild. This is domestic animal jungle activity, I should have started scratching myself and pretended to eat fleas I'd just harvested off my body. Or perhaps a guttural monkey scream would have been enough, I'm bloody good at those!
Alternatively I could have really fucked that guy over by bursting in to tears and saying 'but you promised that you wouldn't kiss her anymore, you said that you were just waiting for the right time, I can't believe I made love to you in the toilets here just last week'! Yeah, I'd love to see the look on that dick heads face if I had unleashed that shit on him.
Maybe I’ll just get a supermarket t-shirt made that reads:
·
Hate shopping
·
Married
·
Got kids
·
Just want to get my groceries done
·
Not interested in your boyfriend
·
Smiles are free – no strings attached.
Then everybody can just calm the fuck down and do their
bloody shopping!
Tuesday, 14 June 2016
Don't be a Stick in the Mud
I like to observe people.
I’m not an obsessive stalker or anything, I mean I just like to mull
over the similarities and differences in the way that people conduct themselves
and to wonder about why that is so. I
couldn’t do all that without being judgmental in some way, so I guess I also
judge people. Judging people can hurt
them so you’ve got to be quite particular about what you say and to whom when
you are moving to the next level of discussing your judgmental thoughts.
I’m quite good with metaphors and similies, and that seems
like a good way to express the things you might want to say in an abstract way without
upsetting any particular party, although to be fair, some people just like to
get upset about the smallest things and they just can’t be helped- let them get
upset.
So I’ve been thinking about journeys through life and the
paths we
choose and what the outcomes are, and I think the best way to
illustrate this is with twigs and sticks.
For the boring/annoying/question asking types who lack imagination –
choose the length and thickness of the stick as you see fit. The stick can be made of anything, personally
I’m thinking of a knotted and gnarled groovy looking fallen twig, but for the
more diligent you may like to choose a piece of wood that has been fashioned
into an even straight line and is more uniform looking.
Anyway, sigh, those boring types always distract from my
creative meanderings with their annoyingly practical questions.
Anyway, my twig, as described above, enjoys the thrill of
the river ride. My twig jumps in with no
prior planning, no expectations and just enjoys the ride. If the water is still my twig enjoys floating
and thinking about stuff, talking to other chilled out relaxed twigs, and just
rejoicing in being a twig in the river.
The boring sticks, they’re busy making plans to enter the
river at the right point, they’re discussing and debating where the flow might
take them, all the dangers involved if they enter at the wrong time and how
they could minimise any damage that might occur. They’re getting all bent out of shape over
which way is the right way to float and how to maximise their success at
floating down the river. For a start,
they’re not going to help any irresponsible twigs whose journey has hit a rough
patch; it’s their fault if they didn’t plan ahead.
It’s true that my twig could get into a spot of bother
because it’s just floating down the river sometimes seeing amazing things, and
having amazing experiences and other times getting thrown around in the rapids
and getting smashed into stuff. But
these difficulties mean that my twig is richer in life experiences, even though
it may be battle scarred. Also my twig
has to come up with solutions to difficulties as they arise and that means it’s
not wasting time planning for problems that may never arise but creatively
responding to the ones that do.
By contrast, the straight and orderly sticks are floating
through a very narrow, well planned route that will get them to their
destination in the most efficient and successful way. Any problems they run into won’t be ‘their
fault’ it will be despite their best laid plans and just a part of the
uncontrollable erratic features of the journey down the river. If they can the orderly sticks will keep
these issues to themselves in order to avoid the shame it might bring upon
their strategic planning skills. One
might not even know they had troubles such are their skills at ‘faking it till
they make it’.
My twig likes to collect colourful things and invite other
twigs to
join them on their journey.
Travelling through the muddy waters and little pools at the edge of the
river affords great leaf and other colourful item discoveries as well as party
opportunities with like minded twigs.
Twigs are happy to party anytime but sticks have planned gatherings at
responsible times. Twig parties are out
of control colourful events and stick parties are subdued. Sticks make sure they are the straightest and
cleanest they can be at parties, it’s important to mix with the right sticks to
get ahead in life.
As twigs travel down the river they join up in little random
rafts with bits of debris as their artwork, they support and help each other
through the whole journey. Sticks travel
in small orderly groups, often in groups of two or four. If someone in the group breaks the stick
rules they set them adrift, and sometimes that stick joins the twigs and lives
happily ever after.
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Tuesday, 10 May 2016
Nazty Naz Wins Competition to be NZ's Most Hated Woman
Nazty Naz |
Just when Naz was starting to win some of New Zealand over
with her cutsie smile, crinkly nose and girly laughter, out she comes with all guns
blazing! I hope you’ve got your passport
ready Naz, because you’ve just won the competition, and are now New Zealand’s
most hated woman. On the plus side I guess
Judith Collins is now heaving a great sigh of relief and preparing to hand over the crown.
In what was a pretty cringe worthy show, our Monday and
Tuesday night guilty pleasure, this episode absolutely took the cake! Was it Mike Puru squirming uncomfortably in
his chair as he tried to get the girls to ‘open up’, Jordan’s maugerly boring chat, or the clearly
irate girls that felt that they’d been held in ‘captivity’ in a Mansion! No, it was the shocking entrance of Naz theNazty Queen as she snaked down out of her tree in the garden of Eden and showed
her true colours- and what awful colours they were.
Naz entered unapologetically, and launched into an expletive
filled diatribe that virtually nobody had immunity from, except precious Jordan of course. The audience gets both barrels when she
responds to a clearly quite perceptive audience member that yells out a very
succinct description of Naz. “come up
here and say that, I f****n dare you” or something pretty rank and disrespectful for live TV that she yells
back. Again Naz is clearly just being ‘confident’
and forgetting to be ‘respectful’ to others.
Or maybe it’s us, we’re just not confident and strong like her...
Next in the line of fire is Kate. After asking Naz why she had made it onto Naz’s ‘hit
list’ when she hadn’t even talked to her, Naz replies ‘I talked to you in the
house, don’t talk shit’ I don’t want to exactly quote Naz because 1) I know how
much it annoys her when people get it wrong, and 2) I’m already wasting heaps
of time just writing about the psycho already.
Well, Kate shone tonight.
Good on you Kate. You weren’t
scared to let Naz know she wasn’t worth wasting your time on. Kate and Gabs were confident, respectful and
truthful. One can only hope that Kate
gets some ‘alone time’ with Naz after the show- now that’s some reality TV I’d
like to see. I suspect that Naz won't be partying with 'the girls' after the show- she'll need a special escort to get her safely passed a simmering lynch mob of designer dresses and perfume.
Because I started watching The Bachelor a few episodes in, I
never had the displeasure of viewing that half witted fellow bitch of Nazty Naz
– Claw-ditz or something like that. One
could not meet a shallower, more idiotic, fame hungry, desperate woman. I’m
guessing you’ll be able to pick up her designer clothes at bargain prices
tomorrow. Still at least she was there so that Naz had someone to sit beside
and rudely interrupt, giggle and point with.
Mauger disappointment |
To be sure Jordan was a mauger
disappointment. What do we really know
about him. Not much, and to be fair it
seems like that is all there is to know.
If you close your eyes and listen to him speaking he sounds ‘exactly’
like John Key. If you ask him a straight
forward question he sounds ‘exactly’ like John Key. He just beats around the bush using benign,
meaningless lingo.
Watching Naz greet Jordan as though he was still her ‘babe’
was just plain horrible. And rather than
act like a gentleman and kindly deflect her clingy, possessive behaviour,
Jordan acted in a maugerly spineless
way. He let Naz get all close and
personal without thinking about Fleur’s feelings at all. Good old Kate was onto it though, she made
some noise about it and rightly so. High
five Kate - you beauty! If only Jordan
had rescued the situation by saying something like ‘I knew all along it was
Fleur’ but no, the clumsy idiot thought we’d all feel sorry for his ‘difficult
choice’ between Naz and Fleur!!!! Nice
one mate, hard to understand why you were single eh?!
Question time just got worse and worse. A clearly irate group of 'girls' ask some
confronting questions and make some underhanded jabs about the whole Bachelor
show. Mike looks like he knows things
are out of control and starts to glow with a thin sheen of nervous sweat. At this point the only thing that could save
the show is if Jeff from Survivor came and took over. Naz still thinks her and Jordan are ‘a thing’
and tries to answer questions that the girls have directed to Jordan. Taking a swipe at Ceri when she asks Jordan
why he concealed his acting career from the girls, Naz tries to deflect this
question by saying that Ceri only did The
Bachelor so that she could get onto Dancing with the Stars. Well Naz might as well have just punched a
puppy on TV! Everybody hates her, her fate is signed, sealed and
delivered. Well, maybe Jordan still
likes her- because he’s very, very stupid.
Maugerly concerned about her new boyfriend |
Fleur’s entrance to the show is a relief. All the ‘girls’ like her, as do the majority
of New Zealanders. Even Jordan likes her
quite a bit. She is demur, genuine and lovely
which is nice. However, it’s all a bit
sad because her future relationship with Jordan looks like it’s going to be maugerly disappointing. Everyone wants Fleur to be happy, it just seems highly unlikely that Jordan is going to be the key to that happiness.
The only future for Naz is as the future Bachelorette, otherwise she might as well call Natalia Kills and Willie Moon for advice on how to cope when New Zealand hates you.
UPDATE**** Having learnt nothing from her disgraceful behaviour screened on TV last night, Naz rolls out even more of her Nazty behaviour on The Edge radio station this morning. You can see her happily giggle away while she reveals that she slept with Jordan multiple times...click here to watch her nazty, manipulative act.
Following this Jordan and Fleur arrive for a 'chat' with Jay Jay, Dom and Randall and boy is it disappointing. Again Jordan explains just how tough it was to choose. Really!!! Has he learned nothing? Has nobody leaned in and said 'look mate, even if that's true, The Bachelors over now and you're best not to say that'! Jay Jay even asks Fleur how she feels when he says that and Fleur agrees it's hard- but still Jordan hasn't cottoned on. I'm beginning to think he should have chosen Naz. Watching Naz play with Jordan like a cat torturing a mouse would be a great follow up show for The Bachelor. And seeing Fleur live happily ever after with someone who thinks she is their true one and only would be the kind of happy ever after most of us would like to see for her.
The only future for Naz is as the future Bachelorette, otherwise she might as well call Natalia Kills and Willie Moon for advice on how to cope when New Zealand hates you.
UPDATE**** Having learnt nothing from her disgraceful behaviour screened on TV last night, Naz rolls out even more of her Nazty behaviour on The Edge radio station this morning. You can see her happily giggle away while she reveals that she slept with Jordan multiple times...click here to watch her nazty, manipulative act.
Following this Jordan and Fleur arrive for a 'chat' with Jay Jay, Dom and Randall and boy is it disappointing. Again Jordan explains just how tough it was to choose. Really!!! Has he learned nothing? Has nobody leaned in and said 'look mate, even if that's true, The Bachelors over now and you're best not to say that'! Jay Jay even asks Fleur how she feels when he says that and Fleur agrees it's hard- but still Jordan hasn't cottoned on. I'm beginning to think he should have chosen Naz. Watching Naz play with Jordan like a cat torturing a mouse would be a great follow up show for The Bachelor. And seeing Fleur live happily ever after with someone who thinks she is their true one and only would be the kind of happy ever after most of us would like to see for her.
Labels:
Dates,
Final Rose,
Fleur,
Jordan,
Judth Collins,
Kate,
Mansion,
Mauger,
Mike Puru,
Naz,
The Bachelor NZ 2016
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