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April 9, 2019 | by  | in Shit Chat |
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Let Me at The Bachelor, and Other Shit Chat

It doesn’t look like The Bachelor NZ will be gracing our screens with a fourth season any time soon. The New Zealand chapter of The Bachelor was much like your latest Tinder hook-up: the hype was red-hot, the anticipation was intoxicating, the execution was immensely underwhelming. TVNZ’s abandonment of The Bachelor franchise was perhaps a predictable eventuation, considering that hearing the kiwi accent on television is a violent assault on the taringa—not to mention New Zealand simply doesn’t have enough decent male talent capable of stringing a coherent sentence together to fuel a Bachelorette season.

 

Bring back The Bachelor. Give me a group of women competing for the affections of an average shithead—not because they organically find him desirable, but because they’ve been told he’s desirable. Give me a group of women who have nothing to do for weeks on end except fixate on when they might be chosen to spend a day performing their worth to a man who has the personality of a cardboard box, only to be dumped for a TV personality from their childhood in the end.

 

Bring back The Bachelor. I volunteer as tribute.

 

10 reasons why I, Sasha Beattie, would single-handedly salvage The Bachelor NZ:

  1. First and foremost, I’m hot. I’m not saying TVNZ’s contestant vetting system immediately discounts women who don’t tick the “conventionally attractive” box, but I’m not not saying TVNZ exclusively casts babes in an attempt to offset the fact that the bachelor himself never rates anywhere higher than a generous 7/10.
  2. I have terrible taste in men, The Bachelor has terrible taste in men. Voilà, match made in heaven. Waste my time, TVNZ.
  3. You want drama? Give me a six pack of VBs and my filter goes right out the window—which, for bonus points, is piss poor at the best of times.
  4. You want tears? Another six beers and I’ll treat the camera like my therapist.
  5. I’m both insanely competitive and a sore loser. A winning combination, if Season 2 darling Naz is anything to go by.
  6. I’m ADHD with a tendency toward comorbid anxiety and depression. TVNZ, here’s your opportunity to spin a narrative where, despite being by definition an obscenely manipulative game show, you can dedicate a two-minute tangent of screentime to my backstory and pretend The Bachelor gives a fuck about mental health.
  7. I’ll be the perfect angry feminist archetype. I’ll show him my “mermaids hate misogyny” tattoo and you can get him on camera googling “misogyny definition”. Imagine some poor bloke taking me—the girl with “cunt” tattooed on her ass—home to his family?? I’m truly spitballing reality television magic for you here.
  8. My superpower is becoming friends with my exes’ exes. After I’m inevitably booted off the show for not being acquiescent enough, I’ll host a brunch where—facilitated by bottomless mimosas—me and the other unlucky ladies in love will spend an hour or three talking shit about the guy we spent far too many hours fawning over. Cameras invited, for a fee.
  9. I’m a messy bitch who lives for drama; I’m a television ratings goldmine. What further persuasion do you really need?
  10. In the words of twitter user @saramorseyy: “dating my last boyfriend was like being on the bachelor but not knowing I was on the bachelor”. My history of investing in men who are actively courting other women means I’m a practiced hand at competing for a realistically mediocre man: I’ve completed my training, let me at the game.

 

Yes, The Bachelor NZ was shit, but was that not in itself the show’s entire appeal? Bring it back. Put me on it. Give the people (me) what they want.

 

Love u, xoxo

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:   I wanted to write this piece, in order to connect to all tauira within the University, with the hope that we can all remind ourselves that we are a part of an environment which is valuable, no matter our culture, our beliefs or our skin colour. The ultimate purpose of this