Tag Archives: The Batchelor

What’s Become of The Honey Badger???

Last night, I was perched on the edge of my seat watching The Bachelor Australia waiting to find out whether Britt or Soph was about to run off into the sunset with the Honey Badger, when an epic twist unfolded. I was dumbstruck.

You see Nick “The Honey Badger” Cummins didn’t choose either of the girls, and was left standing  by himself all alone on the beach. Indeed, I could almost hear cupid’s nemesis playing: All By Myself. He looked guttered and even though it was his own decision, I still felt sorry for the bloke.

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However the show didn’t end there. Despite having her heart broken, Brittany’s first thought was to find Sophie and let her know what had happened. That neither of them had been chosen. The two girls have become great friends and soul mates while the Honey Badger is hardly winning the popularity stakes. Indeed, he’s skipped the country and is off walking the Kokoda Track, leaving a lot of people asking him to: “Please explain”.

Just to put you in the picture, this year’s Bachelor was Nick “The Honey Badger” Cummins, who plays rugby for the Wallabies and also appears in a series of funny commercials for Tradie Underwear. Meanwhile, the field of women had narrowed down to Brittany and Sophie. I couldn’t really work out which was going to be the one, but he seemed to have a connection with both of them. Sophie was the first one to arrive, and we knew from past years that she’s about to be given “the talk”. However, there was no happy ending for Britt either and she was pretty much given the same spiel. In hindsight, something didn’t seem right, and I should’ve picked up when the host, Osher, didn’t ask Nick whether he’d fallen in love.

Of course, I have my own theory.

Right from the outset, it was clear that the Honey Badger wasn’t your regular Bachelor. That was probably why the producers chose him. He’s really funny and has even developed his own language or dialect simply known as  “Honey Badger”, which is a distinct variation of the Australian vernacular. Clearly, someone who speaks their own language, has their own mind and is going to be anything but a conformist. In addition to his linguistic idiosyncrasies, the Honey Badger’s also got this curly mop of hair and mustache which look straight out of the 1970s. Clearly, he’s resisted considerable pressure to get it fixed. He’s obviously his own person.

However, that doesn’t make him a bad person. Indeed, ethics seems very important to Nick not just throughout the show, but also in real life. He repeatedly says that he doesn’t want to break anybody’s heart. Nick is one of eight kids and large families like that have a dynamic. Your siblings knock you into shape and you also stand up for each other. Another detail about Nick’s family which didn’t come up during the show, was that his mother left at some point and his father was left to raise the kids on his own. Two of his siblings also have cystic fibrosis and his father was diagnosed with prostate cancer and isn’t going to be around forever. So, Nick put his career with the Wallabies on hold and played in Japan for awhile to get a nest egg together for his siblings. To help his family out. So, while I’m not saying that the Honey Badger’s perfect, he does take his responsibilities seriously and doesn’t like to let people down. Indeed, he repeatedly talked about not wanting to hurt any of the girls and seemed much more prepared to be hurt himself.

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Lastly, when you’re watching at home, you’re removed from the pressures of being on such a show and the difficulties of dating so many people at the same time on TV and in front of each other. During the finale, the Honey Badger was looking stressed and out of his depth. He mentioned that he was finding it really difficult to make a decision and how he couldn’t get a clear head. From that roadblock, his default was to choose neither. I think he quite genuinely didn’t want to hurt anyone and that bailing out was better than getting it wrong and really breaking someone’s heart.

Naturally, despite the Honey Badger’s conspicuous absence, the shock end has generated some discussion. Has the Honey Badger just become the Greatest Australian Bastard or did he do the right thing? What is going to be the fallout? Apparently, he’s giving one exclusive interview to Lisa Wilkinson on the Sunday Night Project. I’m not her greatest fan and hope she doesn’t serve the honey badger up a platter. He might not be perfect, but he doesn’t seem like such a bad bloke, especially if you’re not trying to win his heart.

Have you been watching the Bachelor? What are your thoughts on the grand finale? Should we roast the honey badger and serve him up on toast or simply leave him be? 

Best wishes,

Rowena

PS: This clip should’ve been a warning for anyone trying to date a Honey Badger: Click here.

Cupid’s Last Stand…Friday Fictioneers.

Cupid was watching his latest targets with great anticipation. Being the Roman God of love, he didn’t need a computer. He instinctively knew Matt and Sophie were perfectly suited.

However, despite his match-making prowess, the humans kept shooting themselves in both feet, screwing up their chances of love. Indeed, Matt who was the personification of Superman without a hint of Clark Kent, reeked of garlic breath. Too paranoid to wear her glasses, Sophie had almost walked past him blind as a bat.

“That’s it!” Cupid fumed throwing down his bow and arrow. “I quit! You humans are on your own.”

……..

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

It’s been years since I’ve been on the dating scene. However, I’ve been watching The Batchelor tonight where I suspect Cupid’s been in overdrive. Bows and arrows shooting all over the place. At least, the was it seems.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

 

Weekend Coughy Share: September 17, 2016.

If we were having coffee today, I’d be asking you to give me a bit of a pep talk and I’d be more than happy to pep you up as well. It’s a lot easy to pep someone else up when you’re  struggling, than fire up your own engine again.

Last weekend, I got hit with a nasty blast of bronchitis followed up by what appears to be a diluted version of Influenza A. Our son has been sick for the last 2 weeks and has had 10 days off school and my Mum caught “what he was having” and her doctor took a swab which came back with the goods.  Mum was put on 50mg and Mister 25mg of prednisone for 3 days. Poor Mister was in a horrid twilight zone and found it quite disconcerting but is off the stuff now.

There’s never a good time to get sick and to be perfectly honest, I am 200% thankful that I’m getting better. With the auto-immune disease its lung complications, Winter bugs have turned into pneumonia before so I should just thankful that I only lost a week and am doing so well.

The trouble is that this wasn’t the week I wanted to miss. It wasn’t the week where I wanted to be in bed. I missed the last of my adult ballet lessons on Thursday night and I’d really been looking forward to it. Had wanted to do something special…a tiara, a tutu. Definitely not a call out from my sick bed to send my apologies.

Today, I’d been planning to visit my old school for the Annual Garden Party. I used to go every year without fail but have been sick for the last two and now we can add another year to that. However, this is the school’s Centenary and it would have extra special and I might also have run into someone I knew. Adding insult to injury, it’s a beautifully sunny Spring day but, as my matter of fact husband pointed out, I am not perfectly well. No chance of getting there, let alone getting around.

Moreover, this weekend marks the 40th anniversary of my home Church. I have visited about 5 times in the last ten years but I was really looking forward to going to a dinner tonight and the service tomorrow. I’d even done a quick scan through my photos and emailed a few through. I’m not getting to that either.

By this stage, if I wasn’t coughing my lungs out, I’d really be feeling sorry for myself…except it’s probably a good thing that I’m still too crook to have any motivation to even get out of my comfy chair. I am telling myself that these are scenes from the past, which is also why it’s not that easy to pop back. I’ve moved both geographically and personally since then, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t want to be part of these celebrations.

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Getting A Lift Out of Quicksand.

However, the good thing about life is, that it is full of ups and downs. While one thing knocks you down, something  else lifts you up. While this route might not have been the one you’d planned, it might even turn out better.

So it was last night. My daughter had returned from her ten days at two different camps, full of stories and chatter. Much to my surprise, she still had enough energy to get to her ballet lesson and was practicing her steps in the kitchen. I recognised the steps and terms from my lesson  and she started conferring with me.  “How did you do it?” It was a step called the “pas de chat” or cat step. Even though I felt like my legs were moving in a fog, we were working on our dancing together in such an intimate, personal way.

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Miss with her dancing Shoes

You could say it was an incredible mother-daughter moment but it went beyond that. Or, at least the mother daughter moments we’ve had before. We were two dancers chatting in the studio corridor, comparing steps and conferring…we were both standing on  the inside. I was no longer outside the circle.

A dancer? How on earth did I become a dancer when I have a disability? When I can struggle to walk, especially down your common footpath without tripping and having a nasty fall?

Probably, in the very same way these incredible athletes have made it to the Paralympics. Somewhere along the way, a “can’t” became a “can” stirring up a kind of levitating magic, bringing us all out of the doldrums and on our way.

As a Mum, this meant the world to me. Being a disabled parent with a chronic illness, there’s been so much I couldn’t do and it eats away at your confidence but it can also send the message that you don’t care. You can’t be bothered. That you don’t love your child.

All of this came about by not only thinking from my daughters’ point of view but also by actually stepping inside her shoes. Well, buying my own to be accurate.

I was stoked.

So, instead of being disabled Mum, sick Mum, or too tired Mum, I was ballet Mum who not only knew how to translate the French into steps, but didn’t need to translate how it felt to dance.I know how it feels when that joie de vivre pulses through my body, reinvigorating the dead wood and making it sing.

So my song is: “Dancing…you make my feet sing”…da..da..na…nah!

Meanwhile, I’ll fly through the last week, which largely falls under the banner of watching the Paralympics. If you’ve been following my posts, you’ll know they’ve blown me away. There’s been:

Why We Must Watch the Paralympics.

Sowing the Seed for Rio.

Also, although I’m very much a thinker and usually watch little TV, I have a few  chinks in my intellectual armour and one of them came to a finale this week…The Batchelor.

My rationale for watching the show  is seeing how people tick in this trapped in the lift type situation. And who wouldn’t mind being trapped in a lift with a young hunk/babe? Then, there’s also the big question mark…who is he going to pick? The suspense really gets to me. I wonder if he knows straight from the start. Or, is he standing back like a sensible sort approaching a smorgasbord, cautiously checking everything out before carefully making his selection? Adding to tension, the number of girls dwindles every week. So, you’re also trying to guess whose going home each week. Who isn’t going to get a rose? Viewer favourites emerged and for some reason a very catty girl kept hanging in there, using up all her nine lives. I was starting to wonder whether Richie was completely blind, when she finally revealed herself in all her venomous glory and she was straight out the door. Thank goodness!

The weeks went by and I been watching it with the kids, trying to nut it out. It might sound like a funny thing to watch with your kids but there were mainly adventure trips and a lot of talking going on. Richie did mention “his frustration” after getting out of the mansion… Three months of celibacy in that pressure cooker would not have been easy.

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Richie with Nikki and Alex.

Anyway, we’re watching the last night and he’s down to two girls and from all the indications I could see, he was going to choose . However, much to everyone’s surprise, he chose single Mum, Alex. This prompted a huge outcry from viewers angry with Richie and coming out swords blazing for Nikki.

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Miss with her dancing Shoes

It’s been very interesting to watch. I don’t know Alex well enough to comment but I’ve been incredibly impressed at how Nikki’s conducted herself. Thinking she’d won Richie’s heart and was going to be the one, she’s publicly come out supporting the couple, wishing them well and the two girls are still friends. She’s expressed no animosity towards  Richie but is heartbroken  nonetheless. I feel like giving Nikki a huge hug and telling her what an inspiration she’s been. Such a great role model for young woman. She might not have won Richie’s heart, but she’s won the nation’s respect and I’m sure the right person for her is just working out how to ride his horse and will soon get on his way. Indeed, Nikki might just have become Australia’s answer to Pippa Middleton. A winner in a different race and definitely not a loser.

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Nikki in a very stunning dress.

So, for someone who didn’t get very far geographically this week, I actually covered a lot of ground. It’s amazing just how far you can travel in your head.

How was your week? I hope it’s been a good one and I look forward to hearing from you!

The Weekend Coffee Share is hosted by Part Time Monster.  You can join this week’s Coffee Share on her blog or by clicking on the linky soon.

Love & Best wishes (and a few coughs),

Rowena

PS So far I’ve taken no photos of me wearing my beloved ballet shoes. My perfectionism is rising to the fore again and while I could have a go at dancing, photography is another story. I’m wanting “the shot”. I’ve been planning to take some photos at the local wharf where the soft, shiny satin will contrast the weathered timber. Stay tuned!

Sorry I exceeded the word limit this week. Haven’t got out much.