Bachelorette SEMIS: The One Where Jake the Ripper Stays Flaccid

26 Oct

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Hola lovers, our cloven hooves are back on Australian soil and that means we’re back behind the wheel – or rather the Dog is because Rico and I will forever be too busy fighting over the stick and begging him to take us to the bottle shop.

Before we begin tonight’s integrity-packed journalistic treasure, we just want to spit out a few words about ludicrously talented shoe-filler (and not in the vomit-splash way) Bloody Mary.  Mares, you came to us a deviant sot with teeth that could eat their way through a royal crypt, and we knew deep in our ravaged cores you’d never let us down.  How wonderful it is to be right, and how wonderful it was to put our sordid rep in your grotty paws and know that our fan club of 5 wouldn’t have to suffer the ignominy of cold turkey.

Mares, it’s not often Rico and I look into our futures, but when we do we totally see your  twisted little verruca face grinning back up at us.  Suffice to say that Georgia may not find love, but we have and our world and the world of FV is all the more blissfully drunk for it.

Right onto this violent yawn train of an ep which starts with George going full Joey Potter on a window ledge trying to decide which of the three slavering Labradors shall gain access to her glory box.

First up for his chance to dodge the firing squad is Lee, who reckons it wasn’t until he saw George talking to his gran that he realised how hot the old girl still is.  He also says that the other guys are ‘amazing’ and ‘incredible’ and that he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about them.  When he’s alone.  With his dick in his hand.

Anyhoo, here comes George in a helicopter because what in shit would Bach be without the obligatory iron sky-bird.  According to George, Lee was totes comfortable in his home town and today is about seeing if he can be just as relaxed without two women constantly jumping up to microwave his socks.  It’s also about ‘revisiting their romance’ and which shouldn’t take us long because two fucking dates.

According to George, the second date made her realise it wasn’t ‘just a feeling’ but that there was ‘something real there’.  According to Rico that ‘something real’ is Lee’s enormous decomposing tongue and buckle up for Round 3, newsreader lady.

Down on the ground and there’s the usual blanket and champers with Lee’s sockless loafers supplying the cheese.  He waffles a bit about home towns and seeing the future but it’s all just a prelude to what we know is about to happen.  The thing we do not want to happen and that, judging by her eyes, she doesn’t either.  Yes of course she does some nodding along and summoning of facial muscles, but her eyes, lovers, it’s all in her eyes.  Those eyes are RIGID with terror.  She says things like ‘I love hearing that’ but what her eyes are saying is ‘THAT THING IS COMING AND YOU’RE TELLING ME WE HAVE NO WEAPONS OF ANY KIND?!’

If you get that reference I adore you so hard I could puke.

Anyhoo, she’s right, the THING doth cometh and when Lee throws his wine glass to the wind the Dog cowers because that’s when you know he’s really putting his back into it.

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Open sesame!

Cut to later in the day and George has managed to put a bike length between the two of them using, well, bicycles.

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Spontaneous

While they sail across the bitumen looking for all the world like a pair of marauding whiteheads, he talks about salivating and wonders if she can see them doing this in their hometown of Melbourne.

By this time, however, George has had enough of Lee dropping the M word and decides she needs to find out if he’d want to baste her with his massive oiled tongue even if she hailed from another State.

During the night portion of their date she comes right out with it:  ‘would you still want to root me if I was from Brisbane?’.  Once he’s finished recoiling in horror, Lee tries to make up ground by saying that her job doesn’t define her and Rico stands up and offers a slow clap because last time we checked gurl didn’t fucking have one.

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Deeerrrrrrrrrrp

He then goes for the big guns and tells her he’s falling for her and while George does her best to press her lips into an impenetrable barrier, Lee’s porterhouse will NOT be denied and Rico starts weeping into his Zinger burger.

To the cameras George says that she was not expecting it but, honestly, that thing could prise open the safe of the Reserve fucking Bank so take your judgement and shove it, bitches.

Right, moving on though because it’s time for the sick woman’s Ben Affleck:  Jake the Ripper.  He gets the boat date, or rather the Super Yacht date, which is basically just an ordinary boat that once upon a time sailed in a race and didn’t fucking win.

‘How lucky are we?’ she squeals for the trillionth time and even the camera crew must be so fucking tired because they give her an unflattering midriff guts shot as payback.

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Cheese date baby

Once they’re done looking at rich person houses it’s time to take a seat and drink some hopefully spiked OJ.  While Jake says he can’t wipe the smile off his face, George mutters ‘is that so?’ and promptly lists the 100 things that make her puke about his mother.

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She Who Shall Not Be Named

‘I thought she’d be orright’ tries Jake, sweating from about five different orifices.

‘Wrong’ mutters George, who adds that, judging by the words exchanged, Jake’s family are about as keen on seeing him move from the Gold Coast as watching Huntsmen rise to inherit the Earth.

‘Oh,’ replies Jake.  ‘Guess you don’t fancy doing King of the World then?’

Miraculously there’s still a night portion of their date which starts with Jake skulling a beer on a balcony and praying to God it contains strychnine.  In comes George’s right thigh, followed by the rest of her, and when Jake says ‘she came rolling in’ well, we don’t have anything further to add.

Onto the couch they go where she’s still concerned that his mother is a cunt and he’s still worried about the lack of strychnine.

‘Feelings make it easy’ he tries, but she’s having none of it saying one of them will be ‘making a huge sacrifice’ and it sure as shit won’t be the creature who birthed him.

Because it’s in their contract the date still ends with a pash, but even Blind Freddie and his newly removed Guide Dog can see that the only Final Two Jake has a chance of getting in on will be part of a police line-up.

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Let’s just get this over with

Matty time and he has his tats out and is talking about how he’s only ever said the L word to one other girl.

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First Love

George on the other hand refers to him as the ‘slow burn’ because when she first met him she thought she’d rather set herself on fire than get within slapping distance of his crotch ornaments.

First part of their date is a threesome where Ellen Paige is waiting to get them well and truly hammered.

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Mind the over spray

After a bit of messing around with eye droppers, Ellen makes them some Martinis before slipping off to do something involving a bottle.  While she’s gone, Matty and Georgia discuss cute things like making magic as well as alcohol, and whether Ellen has to show her ID to buy Kahlua flavoured Tim Tams.  Matty also wonders whether now is the time to say IT, only before he can Ellen is back with the bottle and the opportunity is lost because apparently it’s now their turn to head off and use it.

Cut to the evening portion of the date in which Matty has a glorious boner and Georgia has a strangely befrumped body swathed in something that should be buried in an unmarked grave.

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Protuberance.

In the water and she wants to talk serious, just not about her one-piece because that’s a clear recipe for hilarity – if not tears.  According to Matty, there’s a serious side of him she hasn’t seen, that ‘this’ is serious, that he has ‘no doubt in his mind’, that ‘the thought of not being with you kills me’, and Jesus H Boxed 15 Litre Special Gold Seal Claret, lovers, Matty could seduce the minge out of Alcatraz!

Oh lovers, if we didn’t know it before the chin quiver what we just witnessed has completely given the game away.  Go home, Jake!  Begone, Lee!  There’s only room in this vagina for one man!

Or at least we hope so for Matty’s sake.

Anyhoo, they pash and it’s epic even without the Epic Music that reminds us it’s epic so of course it’s fucking EPIC.  He also says he’s falling in love with her and whether he is or isn’t who in FAR KEW cares because this game is so over the credits are rolling and a pasty  gamer dude in track pants is asleep in his Cheetos.

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Because I’m your layyyy-deeeeee

Rose Ceremony time because why let a dead horse die with grace when you can flog the shit out of it.

‘How do you look at someone and say goodbye?’ wonders George, who doesn’t have the luxury of a fax machine.

Here’s Osh though to break the news that one of them will shortly go fucking off into the night.  To affirm that Jake will shortly be sucked into the void, George is dressed in Couture a la Black Hole and the look on Matty’s face when he gets a glimpse of her has Rico swearing his cold dead heart just sent up a flare.

Of COURSE he gets the first rose, which leaves Lee to raise his eyes to the Donkey Gods and Jake to picture punching his mother’s teeth in.  Cue the weird aircraft-taking-off music and which Rico says is appropriate because even if this all ends up in marriage, they’ll still find themselves one day sitting at a table  wondering why they didn’t just pick the fish.

Anyhoo, Lee and his solid 6 inches of mouth member gets it, which leaves Jake to come to grips with the fact that not even a newsreader who spent four years at the grind stone in family-love central wants to root him.  Out they go for the special goodbye chat where George makes a half-hearted attempt at tears all while affirming that his mother didn’t just dig his grave, but knocked him over the head with the shovel.

In the limo our beloved Jakey says that he doesn’t like goodbyes – unless they’re the ones involving a whole shopping list from Bunnings.  Oh Jake, we’ll miss your flat affect and the way we used to close our eyes at night and picture you creeping down the passage with a bloodied rose pinched between your buttocks.

Farewell sweet, murderous prince!

Until tomorrow, lovers!  Is there anyone who still thinks she’ll pick Lee?  If so, who are you and what on earth are you dranking that you should be sharing?

xo Flawless

P.S – Tits now firmly pointing at Matty.  Tit-o-Meter CANNOT LIE.

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