How YOU Doin'?

Brace yourselves: I want to talk about women.

Now, I love women. My wife is a woman. My mother is a woman. I have three sisters. I have two daughters. Some of my best friends -

Oh, sorry, I was accidentally reading from Being A Patronising Knobend For Dummies. I'll start again.

I want to talk about women. But maybe even more I want to talk about men. The reason is the discussion that I've seen swirling about due to this video:




Now I've seen a bit of debate about the value of the video itself, issues around the making of it and the purpose of it - I'm not going into that right here, right now. I mainly just want to talk about the subject that it raises, which is not a new subject or unique to the video.

I've written about the subject before, but it remains as relevant a subject as ever, and it remains as baffling to me as ever.

What I want to talk about is these dudes harassing women on the street. And by that I mean overt, aggressive harassment, catcalling, whistling, yelling of "compliments", insistently demanding attention from women who are just trying to go about their business...basically I'm talking about men who won't leave women the hell alone.

Now, my experience of this phenomenon is limited to things like that video, and stories told to me by lady friends. Because I don't see it happen. It certainly doesn't happen to me when I'm walking on the street - occasionally someone asks me for directions, and once an old man sat next to me at a bus stop and told me a story about the day he found his mother's corpse - but because I am a dude, and in particular I'm a real big scary-looking dude, I'm lucky enough that I just don't get exposed to it.

So I hear about it secondhand, and I find it unbelievable.

I don't mean that literally - of course it's believable. Just about every woman I know has direct experience of it - it happens a lot. But it's unbelievable because this behaviour is so absurd you'd really like to believe grown adult human beings would not have it in their repertoire.

I'm not saying it's the worst thing a man can do: obviously there are atrocities men are capable of far beyond what you see in the video above. But there aren't many actions a man can take that are more inexplicable than catcalling and street harassment. And if it's not the biggest issue facing us in the world today, it surely should be one of the easiest to fix.

So what I want to do is reach out to the men who do this and say: Why?

Why on earth would you do this? What the hell are you getting out of it? What does it profit you? Wherein lieth the enjoyment of this bizarre practice?

Imagine a drop-down menu of options. In each situation we encounter in life, we see such a menu, from which we may select what we want to do. When we're driving and we see a red light, our options are "Stop" and "Run the red". When we wake up in the morning, we a menu containing such items as "Get up and go to work", "Go back to sleep", "Call in sick and go play laser tag".

We'll get just such a menu when we see a woman on the street. But I am not asking here, "Why would a man choose 'Yell at her' or 'Tell her to smile' from the menu?"

I am asking, "How can these things even appear on the menu at all?"

How does it happen that acting this way is even an option for a man? Perhaps it is my crippling shyness and hatred of human interaction in general talking, but catcalling at a woman is as like to appear on my drop-down menu as "ram-raid the pet shop" is when I see a red light.

So how does it occur? How does a man reach a stage in life where harassing total strangers is one of the actions he's taken under consideration? I often see woman on the street. Often they are women who I find quite attractive. Quietly appreciating their aesthetic qualities is always an option. Attempting to inform them of my appreciation, demanding they engage me in conversation, or passing judgment on their facial expressions never is. Never has been. I would be mortified to even think of doing any of these.

So am I the weirdo, or are they?

A lot of men will say they're just giving women compliments, just saying hi, just trying to be friendly. Furthermore, they will say, it's no big deal anyway, is it? It's harmless. And if women don't like it, they can tell the men involved to faff off.

OK, cool. Indeed it is likely that in most cases these men are not violent psychopaths. It is likely that in most cases there will be no harm done. And if a woman does feel moved to tell a man to faff off, I'll be the first to applaud that lady's actions.

But when a total stranger is accosting you in the street, how the hell are you to know what their intentions are? How are you to know what their reasons for "just saying hi" or telling you you're beautiful are?

Say you're at a party. You walk up to a woman by the punch bowl and strike up a conversation. Unlikely to cause too much consternation. Because it's a party, Striking up conversations is what people do at parties.

It's not what people do on the street. A person trying to strike up a conversation with you while you're just walking along minding your own business is, and I can't stress this enough, WEIRD. There's no context here to make this approach understandable. There's no party, no workplace, no speed-dating night. When a stranger comes up to you on the street and demands your attention, no matter how "friendly" they seem, the question that must come to mind is why are they doing this? And having to ask that question is likely to creep you out. And when you're creeped out you are more likely to want to double your speed and get to safety than you are to want to make small talk with the oddball.

And that's not even getting into the question of the times when it's pure, blatant, unashamed aggression from the man. Which it clearly often is. What I'm saying is, a man interrupting the day of a woman he has never met for no apparent reason is liable to look pretty aggressive no matter what he thinks he's saying.

So why would you do it? Are you just plumb out of ideas about how to meet women? Has your eHarmony membership lapsed? Do you have the world's lowest threshold for entertainment? Did your mum tell you as a child that you were so special that every woman in the world owed you a chat? Do you have an oddly situation-specific strain of Tourette's Syndrome?

Please note what I am asking. I am asking WHY? This is important, because a lot of men are defending this behaviour by saying it doesn't hurt anybody, and so on and so forth. No big deal, no harm done, no need to smear decent men by suggesting nefarious motives behind it, etc etc.

But let's say that's all true: it still doesn't explain why you'd do it. I can see no rational explanation for calling out to strangers in public at all, be it compliments, obscene suggestions, or weather reports. I simply do not know why anyone would want to.

But my confusion grows exponentially when you take into account the fact that women all over the place have clearly stated they don't like it. Women subjected to it react in a way clearly indicative of the fact they don't like it. Whether it is causing serious harm, whether every woman thinks the same way, it's inarguable that many, many women are made at the very least uncomfortable by men doing this.

When you add this to the fact that there is no rational reason for doing it, it surely adds up to behaviour that is perverse to the point of derangement.

So I just ask men, what are you getting out of it? Please tell me. I need to know, what's the pay-off here? Because right now, it seems as if you are bothering people, interfering with their lives, annoying, harassing and intimidating them, in defiance of the obvious fact that they want you not to, for no reason at all. Right now it seems as if there is no pay-off at all, beyond the opportunity to upset a fellow human being.

And if that's the case...

I can only assume that you are doing it because you don't consider these people fellow human beings.

I can only assume that the urge to harass women on the street - an urge which strangely deserts you when it's a man you see walking by - is the same urge that causes people to tease animals.

I can only assume the pleasure you're deriving from your catcalls and your "hey beautiful" and your "give us a smile love" is the vicious pleasure of laughing at the discomfort of a lesser life-form.

I can only assume that you've divided the world into "people" and "women", and one of those groups is here to share the world with and one of those groups is here for your amusement.

In the end, I can only assume that you need to grow the fuck up.

WHO SAID IT?

Our prime minister, Tony Abbott, sure is a piece of work. Sometimes the things he says are so outrageous it's hard to tell whether they're really quotes from the elected leader of our nation, or from a far-fetched fictional movie character.

That's how we came up with the idea for this quiz. How many of these quotes you can correctly attribute to their source: Prime Minister Tony Abbott, or feisty proto-feminist icon and heroine of Canadian literature Anne "Of Green Gables" Shirley? The results may surprise you!

WHO SAID IT: TONY ABBOTT OR ANNE SHIRLEY?

 

1. "Most of the people who are coming to Australia by boat have pass through several countries on the way, and if they simply wanted asylum they could have claimed that in any of the countries through which they'd passed."

2. "We just can't stop people being homeless if that's their choice."

3. "Would you please call me Cordelia?"

4. "Climate change is crap."

5. "You know something, Diana? We are rich. We have sixteen years to our credit, and we both have wonderful imaginations. We should be happy as queens."

6. "I think your Gilbert is awfully bold to wink at a strange girl."

7. "I would not want to see any relaxation of the law prohibiting human cloning."

8. "Once people come to Australia, they join the team."

9. "The smart way to improve broadband is not to junk the existing network but to make the most of it. It's to let a competitive market deliver the speeds that people need at an affordable price with government improving infrastructure in the areas where market competition won't deliver it."

10. "He called me Carrots!"

11. Faith is important to me. It's important to millions of Australians. It helps to shape who I am."

12. "Go away Marilla. I'm in the depths of despair."

13. "I think that marriage is, dare I say it, between a man and a woman, hopefully for life and there are all sorts of other relationships which should be acknowledged and recognised, but I don't know that they can be recognised as marriage."

14. "Mrs Hammond told me that God made my hair red on purpose and I've never cared for Him since."

15. "Whyalla will be wiped off the map by Julia Gillard's carbon tax."

16. "I don't see any need in being civil to someone who chooses to associate with the likes of Josie Pye."

17. "I also think that if you want to put a price on carbon, why not just do it with a simple tax?"

18. "Why isn't the fact that 100,000 women choose to end their pregnancies regarded as a national tragedy approaching the scale, say, of Aboriginal life expectancy being 20 years less than that of the general community?"

19. Well, again Kerry, I know politicians are gonna be judged on everything they say, but sometimes, in the heat of discussion, you go a little bit further than you would if it was an absolutely calm, considered, prepared, scripted remark, which is one of the reasons why the statements that need to be taken absolutely as gospel truth is those carefully prepared scripted remarks."

20. "Please, Matthew. You need help. We've got to get a doctor."

Haha! Almost unbelievable how similar they are, isn't it? How did YOU do sorting fact from fiction?

Guy Writes The Most Hilarious Complaint Letter After Realising He Has No Life

It has been a heated debate whether dickheads should be allowed to fly on planes. To be politically correct, I believe that if someone is, through genetics or upbringing, a dickhead, they deserve the right to travel like anyone else. However, the question is, when being a dickhead affects other passengers, how should transport authorities deal with the situation? It would be like policy to isolate a contagious passenger that could make other passengers sick. In this case, sitting next to a dickhead undoubtedly "affected" fellow passengers. Below is my letter to the airline:



Dear Jetstar,

Do you like riddles? I don't, but I thought it might me seem funnier to people on Twitter if I started this letter with one. What is more irritating than a mosquito, less irritating than a nuclear holocaust and is as fun to be around as a hyena's bowel obstruction? No idea? How about, what becomes sexually aroused by unhappiness and has the personality of zip-lock bag full of urine? Still nothing? Right, one more try. What's as annoying as fuck, constantly talks shit and should be forced to ride on the wing of a Jetstar flight? That's right, it's the man an unfortunate overweight fellow sat next to on my flight from Perth to Sydney yesterday.

Passengers were no doubt mentally high-fiving themselves on the excitement and adventure of affordable air travel as they boarded the plan, before being suddenly distracted by what appeared to be an adult human being located halfway down the aisle, but which turned out to be a sort of cross between a particularly spoilt two-year-old and a faulty smoke alarm.

Soon after taking their seats, the passengers caught what was to be the first of the man's many whines, possibly triggered by the fact that the man sitting next to him wasn't allowing him the breadth of personal space that his personality usually generated in his immediate vicinity, but also possibly triggered by the fact that the man can't achieve an erection unless someone else's life is being made harder than it has to be. Considering the kind of guy he is, I found it strange that none of the cabin crew punched him in the groin. To be fair, they may not have noticed him, because they had jobs to do, which also infuriated this knobtwizzler. Perhaps this photo will jog their memories:

Although to be honest, probably not.

Bewildered by the refusal of the world to conform to his personal specifications, the insufferable cock-nostril stood up, scuttled to the back of the plane and started pestering the cabin crew to upset someone else's trip in order to cater to his individual comfort and constant gnawing desire to ruin people's day. I don't know the names of the three flight attendants, but for the purpose of this letter, I'll call them Normal Human 1, Normal Human 2, and Maintaining a Sense of Humour Despite Harassment By Human Garbage (MSHDHBHG). After his request, Normal Human 1 and Normal Human 2 continued their conversation, presumably about how they've got better things to do than mollycoddle petty little man-ferrets all day. He then asked if he could sit in one of the six vacant seats at the back of the aircraft, to which MSHDHBHG responded that they were for crew only. The fact that this bipedal cowpat failed to understand this pretty basic and clearly reasonable rule makes me think he may be suffering from some form of mental impairment.

He tried to relocate himself on his own, but unfortunately there was nobody on the plane operating on the specific frequency of whiny bullshit that he lives his life on, and so he had to suck it up and stay in his own seat like a normal person. He made his way back to his seat and spent the remainder of the flight thinking up dehumanising insults to use to describe the man sitting next to him in the nasty vindictive letter he planned to send upon landing so that he could fulfil his lifelong dream of getting other snivelling wads of rancid smegma like himself to tell him how hilarious he is on the internet. You could imagine his surprise when he saw both "crew-only" rows occupied by non-crew members. I can only assume the cabin crew decided to pull a bit of a prank in an attempt to make him feel as bad as he deserves to. Well, that's not quite true - another thing I can assume is that he's lying, because he seems the type.

Imagine going out for dinner and a movie, only to have your night ruined by a fat mess who eats half your meal then blocks 50% of the screen. Isn't that exactly the same as having someone who can't control their calorie intake occupying half your seat on a flight? Of course it isn't, that's why only the sort of congenitally obnoxious crotch-stain who actually thinks being forced to spend a few hours in close proximity to a fat person is the same as having someone steal your food would have the naked fuckfaced gall to demand a full refund for what would have to incorporate a flesh-eating virus to qualify as a first world problem.

But Jetstar, you sold this failed experiment in human-guano crossbreeding a ticket, so I'm looking to be compensated for the pain and suffering caused by having read the half-witted doggy bag of petulant foot-stamping and braying bigotry that the beetle-browed dicksnorter vomited up for the entertainment of his fellow drooling dickgoblins. My brain is in agony and I had to type this letter with a stick between my teeth because of the intense migraine I get whenever I think about this scrotum-faced little shitcrumpet and the crybaby corpse gas he emits onto the internet whenever he can't find a towel to wipe his penis on.

To discuss the thorny stick he jammed into his rectum just before writing to you, email him at [redacted], or tweet him at @RichWisken.

Regards,

Ben Pobjie

Hyper-Auto-Repellence: A Personal Plea

What should we make of Christopher Pyne?

Some kind of glovepuppet?

This week Australin politics farewelled a titan in Gough Whitlam. Many people voiced opinions on this, ranging from Prime Minister Abbott's opinion that Whitlam wasn't the best PM ever, to Julia Gillard's opinion that he was actually so great he was a lot like Julia Gillard, to every News Ltd columnist's opinion that he ruined everything for everyone and it's a good thing that finally his ring has been cast into the fires of Mount Doom.

But, Abbott's somewhat faint praise notwithstanding, most of the tributes from actual parliamentarians were quite complimentary and very respectful. Even Philip Ruddock said some pretty nice things about him, and Philip Ruddock dug his own soul out of himself with a rusty lino knife when he was eight. 

But Pyne...well, Pyne made a jolly little speech in which he noted that when Whitlam was dismissed, his mother cried, and "I have to let you in on a secret, she was crying out of joy"

It was a delightful moment

Now, of course, that is an insight into the life of the young Pyne that opens up all sorts of questions. For example, does Christopher still watch Adventure Island, or now that he is in his forties does he prefer Mr Squiggle?

But it's not so much the substance that I want to dwell on: the fact that Christopher Pyne has been forced to spend his life coming up with a dazzling array of excuses to explain away the fact his mother was constantly crying whenever he was around is neither here nor there. What I want to examine is the psychology that caused our Honourable Education Minister to think to himself, "Hmm, Gough Whitlam is dead...this might be a good time to tell the country how much my family hated him".

What process produces these thoughts? Is there a process even taking place?

Evidence is so far inconclusive

The real problem is that Christopher Pyne, despite a respectable upbringing. an expensive education, and Amanda Vanstone cooking all his meals, seems to have developed a pathological need to be the most hated man in every room he is in. It's actually quite a rare psychological phenomenon: hyper-auto-repellence. In other words, he can only be satisfied by making others loathe him. Obviously this has been an advantage to him in his rise through the ranks of the Liberal Party, but at this point in his life is it becoming a liability?

It's not that I hate Christopher Pyne. I mean, I do, but that's not the important thing here. The important thing is that every word out of his mouth, every action he takes, every step in his life up to now, has seemed perfectly calculated to force me to hate him. And frankly, though I hate the man, I also worry about him. When a fellow is so desperate to be disliked that he stands in parliament to merrily spit in the face of the old man who just died, there is something quite concerning going on behind his smooth, shiny facade.

Very very concerning

I don't know if Christopher reads this blog - no idea why he wouldn't - but if he does, I'm here to say: Christopher, I am no longer enabling you. I will write no more about how awful you are, now that I realise it's just feeding your addiction. Instead, I urge you: get help, Christopher. Don't be afraid to reach out.

You might think you can't be happy, Christopher, unless you're being hated. But believe me: you CAN. With a caring therapist and a good support system at home, you might even find a way to derive pleasure from being liked.

And I promise Christopher: when you do, we'll all be a lot more relaxed.

Girlie-Man or Corr-Man? You Decide

If there is one thing that makes me angry, it is a good man's words being twisted and used against him. Luckily, there is actually more than one thing that makes me angry, or my conversation would be extremely monotonous. Nevertheless, this issue is a burning one that sticks in my craw like a collar in an uncoordinated cat's mouth.

Let's look at Senator Matthias Cormann.

Now let's stop looking at him.

Instead, let's THINK about Senator Matthias Cormann, about what he represents, what place he occupies in the modern Australian dialectical discourse. Let's not get bogged down in semiotics, but rather let's examine Matthias Cormann from all sides and make up our own minds about what he symbolises for a culture in crisis.

To put it another way, he has a pretty funny accent.

But forget about the accent for a moment: making fun of people's accents is a big part of being a progressive, but it's not the only part. It's what they SAY with those accents that is the important part, and what Matthias Cormann has said with that hilarious accent is this:

"Bill Shorten is an economic girlie-man,"

This has caused a furore in some circles, as it as been seen as an attack on women, an attack on equality, an attack on our children's futures, and by some even as an attack on Bill Shorten.

But is it really such a terrible thing to call someone "an economic girlie-man"? Let's unpack this, shall we?

First of all, the derivation of girlie-man: etymologically, the term originates in the two separate words "girlie", meaning resembling or bearing characteristics of a girl; and "man", meaning a person who is a man. So we can assume that Cormann was saying that Shorten is a man who in some way resembles a girl.

Our starting point must be to determine the truth value of this assertion. So let's look at Bill Shorten:

How much does he resemble a girl? "Not very much," you might say. BUT what if you look at him from this perspective?

Well. Doesn't THAT put a different complexion on things? Can anyone who has seen the above photo truly say that there is nothing in Cormann's assertion?

But what of the broader implications? Is it true that, in using "girlie-man" as an insult, Cormann is demeaning women by suggesting they are weaker and less capable than men?

I say, not at all. Because let us be clear, Cormann did not actually call Shorten a "girl", That would, indeed, have been reprehensible - to suggest that being a girl precludes one from being an effective leader is disgusting. To suggest that any girl is as bad at her job as Bill Shorten even more so. I have personally known many girls, and watching them burgeon into womanhood is a very different experience than watching Bill Shorten burgeon into Shortenhood.

Also, Cormann did not call Shorten a "man", which would obviously have been slanderous.

What he called him was a "girlie-man", and that is a horse of a different flavour.

Think of it this way: a dog can be a very useful thing, and a tractor can be a very useful thing, but a dog shaped like a tractor? That is entirely different. 

What Cormann was saying was that Shorten is a kind of tractor-dog, a hybrid of two things that are excellent in isolation, but when combined lack a certain something. You might like girls, and you might like men, but is a girlie-man something you'd like? Probably - it sounds like a lot of fun - but is it someone you want in charge of the economy?

After all, remember the old song "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun". Maybe a girlie-man doesn't just wanna have fun - maybe they do have other interests - but there can be little doubt that they will probably be a little bit more frivolous than what you'd ideally like in a person whose duties will necessarily include stamping repeatedly on unemployed people's faces. 

Is Matthias Cormann sexist? Well, if it's sexist to suggest that an economic girlie-man is not the sort of tractor we want ploughing our kennels, then sure, he's sexist. But if it's sexist to not suggest that women can do anything they want without fearing that they won't be criticised for not being men if they're genuinely not as good at their jobs as another woman might be if she wasn't not a man, then I'd say that the answer is clear for all to see.

To sum up:

Girls are good. Men are good. But girlie-men are girlier than is ideal, and manlier than a girl should be. And saying so isn't as bad as you think even in a weird accent. Not that having a weird accent should ever be acceptable.

Thank you.

There is no U in Team

You know, a lot of people come up to me and ask, "Hey Ben, this Team Australia stuff - what's it all about?"

And to be honest, I find these people intrusive and presumptuous. But still, I attempt to answer their questions as best I can, because if there's one thing you know about Team Australia, it's that we try to help our teammates no matter how inadequate we find them as people.

Team Australia is, essentially, a state of mind, a philosophy that says, look, we're all on the same side here, let's work together to achieve our goals.

After all, we all love to feel like we're part of a team. Look at this happy fellas:

Yes, Team Australia is a lot like the 1982 Parramatta Eels. The government is Peter Sterling and Brett Kenny in the halves, controlling play, organising the team and orchestrating the big moves that produce results. The taxpayers of Australia are the forwards in the engine room, Ray Price and Geoff Bugden and of course good old Johnny Muggleton, doing the hard yards that are necessary if we're ever going to let our outside backs do their job: the outside backs in this case being mainly Cate Blanchett and Silverchair. 

The point is that just like a great football team, Team Australia has all its disparate parts performing their designated function in pursuit of the same aim - a strong, prosperous nation. And that's the genius of Team Australia - it uses the powerful imagery of sport, something all Australians understand, to illustrate a point. No wonder Tony Abbott was a Rhodes scholar - that man sure knows a thing or two about using sports words to say things about things that aren't sport!

It's an effective technique. That's why the accessibility of sport permeates our public affairs nowadays. For example, the government is now moving to implement a "red card" system for hate preachers. Why red card? Why not just a "stop hate preachers" policy? Because red cards are sporting, and Aussies love sports! Admittedly red cards are more of a soccer thing, but let's be honest: it's the ones who like soccer we need to be keeping an eye on.

And this is why I hope people don't feel scared or alienated by Team Australia. After all, would you feel scared or alienated by this?

Of course not! Those guys are having a great time! Because being in a team is just fantastic. And we're all in the best team of all - Team Australia. 

Naturally Team Australia requires vigilance. After all, if you're playing cricket you can't just sit idly by and let the batsman hit you for six. Team Australia is all about taking precautions. As a country of course we need to send fielders to the boundary to keep the run rate down. As a country we do have to, at times, bowl a dry line outside off stump. Sometimes we might even need to pitch it outside leg into the footmarks. That's just the nature of Team Australia - a responsible government must be prepared at times of crisis to come around the wicket. Ben Chifley knew this.

Because the fact is, being Team Australia is just as much about responsibilities as it is about rights. Sure, when you're on a great team like Team Australia you get to take the speccie in the goal square, but you also need to make the smother on centre wing, you need to punch from behind and get men around the stoppages. Some people think it's not important that, as citizens, we rush the odd behind, but those people probably don't understand the fundamentals of foreign policy.

You can't stop terrorism with this:

Sometimes you need this:

And that's what I tell those irritating people from the beginning of this article. I tell them, Team Australia is about security, about safety, about prosperity, about democracy, about freedom, about hard work, about togetherness, about patriotism and about justice.

But most of all, Team Australia is about creating a better future. I know that's hard to see sometimes, but maybe it'll be easier to understand if I put it like this:

When you're down six goals in the final quarter, sometimes it's necessary to roll the dice. You don't get over the advantage line by going sideways before you go forward, you need to make sure your scrum is solid before you start worrying about the corner posts. It's easy to get caught offside when you don't keep your eye on the ball, but the one thing we all know is true is, nobody ever scored a goal sitting on the bench. And it's by sitting on the bench that we miss our opportunity to jump the net. Hurdles are natural in life, but you can take the rebound more easily when you hit the training track hard and keep your shape. It's great to play your shots, but a sound forward defensive is the foundation of a flowing cover drive - getting the ball in the right areas is how you tempt the opposition into mistakes. And it's those mistakes that will keep this country out of the bunker, and in the onion bag, for many years to come.

That's what Team Australia means to me. So please: don't be terrorists OK? Because national security is a trophy we can all win.

BACHELOR RECAP: PIES, POLO AND PUPPIES

We begin with a preview of tonight's episode, in which Laurina will be extremely disappointed with the way her life has gone and not before time. We then move on to the now-traditional moment where Amber says she really really wants to go on a date. Osher enters and says there'll be no group date. Amber takes the opportunity to catch some flies with her mouth, and then moves on to bitching about the other women. How does Amber cope with not living in a house full of women, with nobody to constantly complain about?

The others think the new girls will be picked to go on dates. "I haven't been on a single date and all my friends think I won't, that's great," says Amber in a particularly nasty tone of voice; which is to say, her normal tone of voice. If only she knew that she's mistaken: she has no friends.

Off goes Same, who hasn't had any quality time with Blake lately - here we are working on the assumption that "quality time with Blake" is even a concept that has any meaning. Every time Sam is around Blake, she feels nervous, which is probably normal when you associate with sociopaths.

Sam doesn't know what Blake has planned, so it'll come as a surprise when she finds out he has nothing planned - all the planning was done by the show's producers. What THEY have planned is a ride in a helicopter, which I'm pretty sure has been done before but I guess when you have access to a helicopter you need to get as much use as possible out of it.

The helicopter lands at the Sydney Polo Club. "I'm definitely a country girl," says Sam, taking on the challenge of self-identification with gusto. Apparently being from the country means you're used to hanging around in clubs for incredibly rich city people.

Blake and Sam sit on the grass and eat strawberries and Sam talks about how vulnerable and scared she is, because that's her sole personality trait. Blake is so happy she felt ready to open up to him. "Our relationship is really progressing," he says enthusiastically, excited about another woman he gets to feel up before getting rid of her once he's bored.

Laurina thinks Sam may be too young for Blake "if he's looking for a woman". It's pretty amazing the way Laurina has identified fatal flaws in every woman in the house except herself. Her perceptiveness is stunning.

"I wanna know how far we can go," says Blake, hastily adding "in our relationship" when he remembers he's not supposed to admit he's just there to get laid. Apparently it's getting easier for Blake to imagine a future with Sam. She's, like, third or fourth now on his list of women he can imagine a future with. He's doing so much future-imagining he's like the Nostradamus of sleazy dickwits.

"It's an awesome feeling to know that he likes me," says Sam, her low self-esteem screaming with pleasure at all the attention. Blake wants Sam to know that she's definitely "in this"; as a smooth operator, Blake knows that what every woman most wants to hear is that she's got some kind of chance of being picked ahead of all the other women he likes.

Then they kiss and it's a magical moment and time seems to stand still a lot like when Blake kissed all those other chicks.

Back at the mansion the women are talking total nonsense in accordance with their contracts.

Now time for Blake's date with Lauren, the first "new girl" he's taken on a date. He just wants to know if there's chemistry between them, so he can decide whether all that crap he was saying to Sam earlier is worth going on with, or if he should say it to Lauren instead. Blake has taken Lauren out for Italian, which is a pretty original idea I reckon. They have spaghetti, as part of Blake's plan to humiliate Lauren.

Blake is weirded out by the fact Lauren has never been in a long-term relationship. People who've never been in long-term relationships sicken him. He, personally, has been in hundreds, most of them simultaneously. Meanwhile Lauren senses a real genuineness about Blake, which is fair enough: The Bachelor is one of the few places you can find a man who is totally honest about the fact he's cheating on you with multiple partners.

"Thank you for coming along on this Italian adventure," says Blake, vastly exaggerating the properties of a bowl of spaghetti, as he gives Lauren a rose, and she, brainwashed by an artificial romantic ideal, accepts it.

Time for Blake's date with Laurina. Sam doesn't really consider Laurina a major threat, because she's met Laurina.

Laurina doesn't know what Blake has planned, but has dressed up extremely fancy because a producer with a sense of humour told her to. Laurina thinks it would be pretty good if Blake had a private jet lined up, because she's mistaken being a Bachelor contestant with being Marilyn Monroe.

Blake wants to know if Laurina can "throw caution to the wind and enjoy a more simplistic date", or in other words, he hates Laurina and wants her to be unhappy. Which she is. "That's unacceptable," says Laurina, in reference to the fact that Blake has taken her bowling. "Hashtag clown shoes with a cocktail dress. Hashtag awkward," she fumes, having learnt to say "hashtag" out loud from her favourite book, Making Everyone On Earth Hate You For Dummies.

Laurina starts to enjoy the bowling, having realised that Blake doesn't put out for pouters. The pair strike a wager: if Laurina wins bowling, Blake will give her a romantic dinner; if Blake wins, he gets to throw her into a landfill. Laurina wins, which means she's about to be disappointed again.

Laurina says she's hoping the place Blake takes her will be cocktail attire-appropriate. Blake chuckles darkly, much like a homicidal maniac might. Because he is taking her to a pie shop. It's Harry's Cafe de Wheels, one of Sydney's most iconic locations. Blake claims he's been waiting to visit for years, which is a bit weird because it's a very easy place to go to if you actually want to.

Laurina is not happy she's been taken out for a pie, beginning to suspect that Blake is enjoying her suffering which to be fair he is. She is furious that other women have gotten yachts and planes and fancy dinners, while she gets "a dirty street pie". But it's a funny coincidence, because in high school Laurina was voted Most Likely To Eat And/Or Be Referred To As A Dirty Street Pie.

Blake feels his date has backfired, as he giggles on the inside. "Time to get this date back on track," he says, hopefully meaning he is about to tie Laurina to a railroad. Actually what he's going to do is give Laurina a puppy, as a metaphor for how he feels about her personality.

It's Laurina's own puppy, which means Blake has broken into her house and kidnapped her dog.

Back at the house, Amber is furious that Laurina's dog got a date, and she hasn't, because Amber doesn't really understand how this show works. It seems unlikely that it's the first time a man has chosen a dog over her though, so she can't be that shocked.

"I feel sorry for Amber," smiles Blake's favourite Jess, who always has sympathy for the underprivileged in society.

At the cocktail party, it's the birthday of one of the new girls but I don't know her name. It's the one who's a bit like the netball one I think. It's pretty hard to care, I think you'll agree. Oh her name is Rachel maybe?

It's not important: what's important is that Amber is having a sulk. This isn't news, of course, it's just the continuation of a trend that began in the early 90s. Blake comes in and asks Laurina to go for a walk with him, mainly because so Amber knows he doesn't want to go for a walk with her. Blake wants to clear up some issues regarding their date. Laurina admits she was a pain in the arse, but she's only referring to the date, not to the entire rest of her life. She feels pretty remorseful for judging Blake so harshly before she found out he was a dog-thief.

Blake returns and asks Jess to go for a walk. "Are you kidding me?" says Amber for the eightieth time this series. It becomes clear that Blake's family and Amber's family are participants in a centuries-old feud, and Blake has only entered the show in order to take his revenge.

Finally Blake asks Amber for a chat. He wants to tell Amber exactly how he feels, possibly with the aid of colourful graphs and a recording of hyenas laughing. He needs Amber to understand that although she's yet to have a single date with him, he considers her to be one of the most special crazy vicious skanks that he has ever been told by the executive producer to not send home too early.

Blake begins by talking to Amber for a very long time without saying anything, but eventually gets to the point. "I think you are an incredible woman," he lies, before telling her that there is no connection between them and he never wants to see her again. So weird how the incredible women are always the ones that Blake doesn't like. Blake doesn't want to put her through another rose ceremony: he thinks it wouldn't be fair to her, or to his own desire to not look at her goddamn face anymore.

Back at the mansion, Osher emerges once again from his basement lair. He tells the ladies that Blake has just kicked the rungs out of Amber's love ladder. The women's reactions run the gamut from not giving a shit, to not giving a shit but acting like they do.

The bonus for the remaining women, of course, is that since Blake just took Amber out to the garden and then put her in a car, all her possessions are still in the house to be divvied up. Meanwhile Amber herself is driven off a nearby cliff, and we are promised that tomorrow night Blake will continue preferring Jess to everyone else and Laurina will continue objecting to everything that happens.

Below: Blake and Laurina enjoy a tender moment together

Why I'm Alive

Why am I still alive? Well I think it's because I'm a fighter, because I am determined every day to struggle with all my might against the will to self-destruction. I think it's my courage that has kept me alive.

Haha, just kidding. Actually the reason I'm still alive is that every time I reach the point where it seems like maybe it'd be better if I wasn't, I find myself struck by one or all of a number of points:

Firstly, I am still alive because of spite. There are enough people in the world who I know would be happier if I was dead, that it seems worthwhile staying alive just to make their lives a bit more miserable.

Secondly, I know that on the occasion of my death, everyone who ever knew me, or pretended to know me, or heard of me, or didn't hear of me but got told about me after I had in fact died, is going to weigh in with some damn opinion or other.

Some of them are people who have treated me like shit in life, but are going to act like we were the best of friends once I'm dead.

Some of them are people who are going to pretend that they understand why I died, and try to explain it to other people, and argue endlessly over whose theory of my death is the more accurate, and the more compassionate.

Some of them are people who are going to be secure in the knowledge that my death is all about them, and tell the world how pained and soulful they are so everyone understands that my dying has many victims, but none so tragic as this particular casual acquaintance.

Some of them are going to say how sad it is that I have died, and follow that statement with "but..." so they can explain how actually it's not really all that sad.

Some of them are going to write blogs and thinkpieces explaining how really it was all my own fault. And some of them are going to write blogs and thinkpieces explaining how really it was all the fault of someone or something that by coincidence they were already writing blogs and thinkpieces about before I died.

Some of them are going to use the circumstances of my death to trigger a petition.

Some of them are going to get incredibly angry that anyone is sad about my death, when there are much SADDER things to be sad about, and isn't it just incredibly narrow-minded of us to be sad about my death?


And the point is, when I'm dead, I can't tell everyone having a public reaction to my death to go fuck themselves in their fat ugly faces. So I really have no choice but to stay alive when you think about it.

The Bachelor Recap: Choppers, Campers, and Wing Defence

Previously on The Bachelor, Holly never had a man go to so much trouble for her, and by "man" she meant "television production crew". Also Laurina was the target of anger from everyone in the mansion/country.

Tonight, we look forward to the continuation of this year's theme: "women who Ben can't remember the names of".

The episode begins with Blake playing basketball and hoping that the woman he spends the rest of his life with will be amongst this group of ladies, because if he has to fund another series out of his own pocket it will put a major strain on his finances.

Meanwhile, nobody is playing basketball at the mansion, but Osher, who is still fighting his brave battle against the hairdo that threatens to eat his head, comes in with an envelope. Amber is hoping the envelope is to ask her on a date, because she hasn't been on a date yet, but actually it is Lisa who the envelope asks, "Do you feel the need for speed?" Yes, Blake is taking Lisa to do some amphetamines together.

"Oh my god it's Blake!" exclaims Lisa as Blake comes into view - she had no idea he'd be coming to their date. Blake is standing in front of a helicopter, which is terrifying for Lisa, who is afraid of heights. "I'm going to have to jump out of a plane!" she exclaims, never having learnt the difference between a plane and a helicopter.

Up in the air, they experience the kind of romance that you can only get through a static-riddled conversation over radio headphones. The helicopter lands in the Hunter Valley and Lisa gets on Blake's back as her legs stopped working or something.

Then they both get in planes - separate planes, as they are not yet married - and the planes fly around and do some tricks for a bit and they have more static-filled romantic conversations, which are if anything even more romantic for the fact they are not in the same cockpit.

Blake informs us that in a partner he looks for someone who is "up for anything", and so he now takes Lisa to watch the movie "Donkey Punch".

Sorry, misheard, it's actually LUNCH they're going to.

Meanwhile, back at the mansion, Sam wants to clear the air with Laurina, and some misguided producer has decided that there are viewers out there who care. Sam tries to explain where she was coming from, but Laurina wants to explain how Sam is wrong about everything, but Sam wants to explain how in fact Laurina can shove her opinion up her weaselhole, which causes Laurina to explain how she has a very tight, shiny face.

Back to the date, where Blake is now carrying Lisa in his arms. The two are clearly very very compatible - Lisa's love of not walking complements Blake's desire to carry human beings around perfectly.

"We've spent a lot of time together today, haven't we?" says Lisa, slowly gaining a dim comprehension of the mechanisms of dating.

Apparently they are dining at Blake's favourite restaurant, and indeed Blake's mannerisms and body language suggest that he has possibly been there at some point previously in his life. Maybe it was even as a customer.

Back at the mansion another envelope has arrived and Amber is still bitching. The missive says "Better out than in", meaning Blake is going to take the girls on a vomiting trip.

At this point we are made aware that there is a woman called "Stacey-Louise" on the show, which comes as quite a shock to us all. Also "Shana", apparently.

Amber still doesn't get to go on a date. She is very angry about this and complains in a pretty attractive way, so probably Blake will want to take her on a date soon so he can get to experience her whininess close up.

On the date, Lisa is explaining how her father is a loveably oppressive tyrant and Blake subtly tries to determine whether he is likely to be murdered if he pursues this relationship. Blake then asks Lisa whether she's been in love before. Lisa explains that she hasn't been in love, but she has had a lot of experience in saying nonsensical, confusing sentences.

Blake tells us that he can sense that Lisa has a lot of love in her and around her and sort of clinging to her clothes and dripping off her hair and running out of her nose.

We now go back to the house to see what the much-hyped devastating phone call to Holly from her mum is all about. It turns out that it's about Ten pretty much lying to us: her mum has called to tell her that she has been chosen to play in the Australian Netball League and this is a problem for some reason that is not specifically elaborated. I guess it's because we all know no man would ever want a long-term relationship with a netballer.

While Holly agonises about the choice between positional bibs and muscly enormous-toothed men, Blake and Lisa eat chocolate in a room full of far too many candles to constitute a fire-safe workplace. Then they kiss and Blake tells us that it was a really beautiful moment, possibly even as beautiful as the moments in the last few days when he kissed other women, and with luck, almost as beautiful a moment as the moments to come when he will kiss even more women. There is no doubt that the romance of systematically cycling through a series of women's lips is really hitting home.

Back at the mansion, someone is playing a guitar with amazing enthusiasm, and Lisa enters to shove her rose in everyone's face. Amber hates her with a passion. All the ladies show an amazing ability to smile despite their explosive rage. Lisa thinks her kiss with Blake was Blake's first kiss on the show, which is pretty funny.

Jess gloats about how actually Blake's first kiss was with her. She kept it a secret because it was so special, although surely every passing day makes it clear how untrue that is.

The next day Blake takes his selected group daters out into the woods. Osher, whose hair is now entirely computer-generated in post-production, explains that they are going on a camping trip, just like the movie "Deliverance". Blake and the ten ladies head into the wilderness, with only their backpacks and the camera crew and the producer.

Blake finds it interesting what order the women walk in, which tells you a lot about how interesting Blake is. Kara walked at the front, which she thinks is her leadership skills coming out, but then she's not a thinker.

Back at the mansion, Jess is wondering whether other girls' dates were as special as hers. I guess we'll never know.

At this stage it becomes very obvious that there are far too many women on this show. Nobody can keep track of all of them.

They arrive at the campsite, which Blake thinks is as good a place as any to set up camp especially given the producer just told him to stop and set up camp here. It is no doubt a beautiful unspoiled piece of native wilderness even though it actually looks a bit like someone's driveway.

"All I can think about is Blake, netball, Blake, netball, and it's really distracting me," Holly confides, and that's understandable: I'd be distracted by such a boring train of thought too. Holly has a big decision to make for reasons which remain unclear - netball or a man she doesn't really know? The eternal dilemma.

That night, Blake proposes a toast to the outdoors, which is a bit weird. Would you trust this man enough to go to sleep in a forest near him?

Blake takes Zoe off for a one-on-one chat. Zoe tells Blake she sense there are many layers to the Blake onion, inasmuch as he makes everyone cry and can be unpleasant to find in your hamburger. Blake, honoured to be compared to a bulb vegetable, offers Zoe a rose. And so, naturally, it is time for truth or dare, a game which is as uncomfortable and awkward as it is dull and tedious. Blake is asked whether he prefers blondes or brunettes, and fails to give the correct answer, ie: "Don't be such a dickhead".

Blake, asked why he decided to be on The Bachelor, finds the inner courage to confess that he believes that things happen for a reason. Presumably one of those things that happen for a reason is getting the chance to make out with a big stack of hot chicks. He then gives Alana a rose, despite her oversized beanie and a slightly aggressive attitude. Some other women are jealous and consider Alana a threat. I don't know which women they were, I assume they have names of some kind.

Holly is feeling very unwell because of the netball thing. She's been waiting her whole life to play professional netball, even though it says "pro netballer" on screen under her name, so whether she already is or isn't playing professional netball is a bit up in the air. But suffice to say she has received a netball opportunity, one of those netball opportunities that you just refer to as "a netball opportunity" without ever going into any detail about it at all. She tells Blake about her netball opportunity, this opportunity which would allow her to play netball, and the strict rule that Australian netball authorities have against their players competing in prime time dating shows. It is a very tense moment so Blake and Holly cut to an ad to assist with the suspense. Both of them are shocked to hear the news about Choices Flooring.

We cut back to the show, where the same thing that just happened happens again in case we've forgotten. Holly admits that she cannot walk away from netball, which technically is not what she was being asked to do, but anyway, she is leaving to chase that netball opportunity which will provide her with a great opportunity in the field of netball, one of the best netball opportunities in her entire career of having opportunities and playing netball.

Holly tells the other women of her decision, making it quite clear that it involves netball and an opportunity, and the women bravely pretend to be sorry to see her go. And so off Holly goes, leaving only one question to be answered: why was it her mother who rang to tell her about the netball opportunity? Is it usual for Netball Australia to communicate via mother?

Back at the mansion, it's cocktail party time, and it's time for Amber to hate Laurina's guts and to say "keep your friends close and your enemies closer", which is something people often say in order to let everyone know that you don't really know what it means. She is not, in fact, keeping Laurina close at all: Laurina hates her too. Laurina thinks Amber is a troublemaker, in that Amber took Blake outside to talk to him when Laurina wanted to go outside to talk to him. Amber is quite proud of her "sneakiness", a sneakiness which consists entirely of standing near the door and saying "LET'S GO OUTSIDE" as soon as he enters the room.

Blake comes back in to say he wants to talk to Laurina, which proves that this is a staged, unreal show: nobody wants to talk to Laurina. Blake and Laurina discuss sparkling wine. Laurina tells Blake she wants a "wild spirit and a tame heart", a phrase almost, but not quite, as meaningful as the mating call of the common hyena.

It's roses time, which means Osher arrives to tell everyone what they already know and valiantly fight off the savage advances of his hair. Two women must leave the mansion tonight, with not even the consolation of a netball opportunity to take with them.

A woman who I don't know the name of is very confident, and keeps saying so, so probably she'll have to leave. Anita isn't confident - she feels like she's still speaking to someone she's just met, though to be fair that's only because that is exactly what she's been doing. But win or lose, one thing is certain: before this contest is over, Anita will cut a bitch.

And so Blake hands out a bunch of roses and oh Anita gets one, so her inevitable murder spree will have to wait. Jessica gets one too, allowing her to continue her deluded fantasy that her date was special.

Blake gives Katrina a rose. Katrina asks him to show her more interest next week. Blake looks at her in the manner of a man who has just been asked to donate his penis to a museum. Katrina giggles in a way both endearing and severely deranged, and trots away, safe in the knowledge that Blake never wants to talk to her again for as long as he lives.

Oh the confident one was "Stacey-Louise" I think. She doesn't get a rose. She can go straight to hell as far as Blake is concerned. Also Charlotte, who was apparently on the show, is now not on the show. On the ride home Charlotte is devastated, but she hopes that one day she can find the strength to once again go on a game show. Meanwhile Stacey-Louise thinks something better is waiting for her around the corner, but that seems unlikely.

Next week on The Bachelor, Blake and Sam eat popcorn and Sam can't believe something or other, while Amber keeps bitching constantly.


Below: Blake and Lisa on their date

The Bachelor Recap: Snow, Bridesmaids, and Models

We begin, of course, with the traditional recap of last night's action, in which we are reminded that twenty-four women we had no connection with met one man we had no connection with, and then some of them went home.

We are then shown Blake on a boat. It's only just occurred to him that one of the contestants could be his future wife. Only just. It only just occurred to him that the premise of The Bachelor is indeed the premise of The Bachelor.

Meanwhile at the house, Chantal would like to get to know Blake more, whereas Anita would like to know more about Blake. For her part, Alana wants to see more of Blake. The variety of opinions is quite amazing. They all want to go on the first date with Blake, to which end Blake has sent Osher with a "first date card", the traditional way for a gentleman to court a lady on television.

It could be a group date or single date. Anita would definitely like it to be a single date, not a group date, because she feels she is one of those women who is more attractive to a man when by herself rather than with nineteen other women.

Unfortunately though, Jessica will be going on the date, which doesn't surprise Holly, because as a professional netballer she sees deeply into human nature.

Blake shows up at the mansion in a car, and explains that with Jess, "It was her smile, it was the look in her eye, it was a spark", so there's clearly a pretty profound connection here. Jessica can't believe Blake actually came to the house to pick her up - she's never known a man who could drive before.

Jessica always thought she would settle down and start a family, but at twenty-four she realises she's on the verge of drying up and shrivelling into a useless husk, so it's about time she went on TV and tried to pick up a stranger.

As Blake and Jessica drive off, the crucial question is raised: is this a date or a kidnapping? It's still unclear as Blake stops the car in a middle of a blizzard: he has apparently driven her to the Yukon. Jessica sees the snow and becomes convinced Blake is a wizard.

"I'm a romantic at heart, I wanted to do something special for our first date," Blake said, and what is more special than asking the production team at Channel Ten to come up with something?

Jessica is pretty smitten: ever since she was a girl she longed for a man to shower her with fake snow. Back at the mansion the other women file their nails and talk about how much their lives suck. But at the snowfields, Blake thinks the date is going better than he'd ever imagined, inasmuch as Jessica has yet to spray anything toxic in his eyes.

There's a chandelier hanging above the ice rink. What?

Jessica leaps into Blake's arms. They both fall over. Overcome with the romance of the moment, they take a moment to watch an ad for Wonderland, wondering why it is that Ten is pretending it's a new show.

By the way The Bachelor is proudly brought to you by Ford, so you know who to send your letterbombs to.

Back at the ice rink, Jessica jumps into Blake's arms again in case we'd already forgotten that happened. Luckily, nobody has suffered a severed artery. Blake informs us that the chemistry between Jessica and himself is fantastic; but like any young man in the first blush of romance, what he's really looking forward to is doing this with nineteen other women.

Blake has a present for Jessica, or more accurately, Channel Ten has a present for Jessica and has hired Blake to hand it to her. It's a dress. "It's like something out of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe!" Jessica gasps as a talking beaver leaps out of it.

Back at the mansion, Sam is jealous, which is pretty novel. A new dating card has arrived, promising "a big day". Alana surmises that this means it is wedding-related. "What else do you call a big day except a wedding day?" she says, which is pretty stupid logic, but unfortunately she's going to turn out to be right.

On this date, a lot of women have been invited, including Anita, which is lucky because the look on her face as the names are read out made it pretty clear she was about to go on a killing spree if she didn't get to go on a date.

Back to the frozen tundra of Spitzbergen, and Jessica is now dressed as the White Queen, and sits down with Blake to dine on Turkish Delight.

Jessica can't quite believe the depth of feeling she already has for Blake. I hope this isn't going to continue for the rest of the series. The show desperately needs someone to call Blake a wanker to provide a bit of light and shade. Maybe they could get me on the show to do that.

Blake thinks this is the best first date he's ever had, possibly because it's the most heavily sponsored.

Jessica is impressed by the fact Blake is a perfect gentleman, meaning that he hasn't tried to grab some boob while the cameras are rolling.

And then suddenly, Blake speaks the words that every woman longs to hear after suffering severe head injuries: "Jessica, will you accept this rose?"

And then they kiss, a moment made all the more romantic by the knowledge of all the other women he'll shortly be kissing.

Jessica returns to the mansion, where Anita is insanely jealous of Jessica's dress: she wishes she could groom a dog like the one the dress was made from. All the women want to know if Jessica kissed Blake, but she doesn't want to tell them in case it "unleashes Pandora's box". We have yet to hear much from Pandora, but apparently her box is terrifying. Good luck when your date with Pandora comes around, Blake!

Later on Jessica is in tears because she lied about kissing Blake and because she is an idiot. But anyway.

Next day it's the group date, in which Blake will make it entirely clear to a group of women that he is in control of their lives, in true romantic style. The date will involve all the women being models for Woman's Day, because this show is all about romance and style and class and celebrity gossip and weight-loss tips.

The shoot will be bridal-themed, because these women clearly are not already obsessed enough with weddings. But only four women get to be brides, and the rest will be bridesmaids. Everyone is desperate to be a bride and not to be a bridesmaid because they don't really understand how reality works.

The brides are Alana, Diana, Stacy-Louise and Laurina. Nobody claps for Laurina, but she knows this is because they were just expecting it because she's done modelling before and so obviously she gets to be a bride because she has done modelling before and the lack of clapping is in no way connected to the fact that her personality was stolen from a vulture.

But to her credit, Laurina manages to keep her cool despite knowing that the other girls are intimidated by the fact she's a model. As the shoot begins, she feels pretty confident taking control and telling Blake what to do because although she's kept it pretty quiet, she's actually had some modelling experience.

The second photo involves Alana as the bride. She's not had modelling experience, so she looks like a piece of garbage really. To look good in a photo you really need modelling experience. It would've been good if there'd been a model among the women to give her some advice.

Blake, though, is grateful that Alana let him "guide her", making sure to say the words in a way that I want to make clear doesn't sound at all hideously creepy.

Next up is Stacy-Louise, who giggles a lot about Blake taking his shirt off, and is just generally unpleasant like that.

Diana has been dreaming about her big day ever since she saw it on Cinderella, which is a statement both alarming and weird. She also wants Mickey Mouse to be her wedding celebrant, so she saw a different version of Cinderella than I did. But I get the feeling Diana sees a different version of pretty much everything. Certainly she's seeing a different version of the photo shoot, as it seems fairly certain that when she leaves she firmly believes she's actually married.

Laurina thinks Blake is having more fun with Diana than he did with her, which Laurina can't really fathom, because Diana isn't even a professional model.

Following the photo shoot, Alana surprises the viewer by revealing she'd actually quite like to get to know Blake more. Which she does, as she sits down with Blake, and he asks to wait. I wonder what he'll do? Will he return with a bucket of water to throw on Alana's head, or a restraining order? No, it's a rose, so there you go.

Anita doesn't think Alana should get a rose unless there's been a real connection, and Anita hasn't seen that connection, so Anita thinks Blake has made a terrible mistake. Anita begins working on an Excel spreadsheet detailing what Blake's feelings really are, that she can email to Blake so he understands himself better and remembers to always ask Anita before making any major decisions.

Blake is looking forward to tonight's cocktail party. "There are so many amazing women I haven't even spoken to," he says. possibly referring to the women on this show. Laurina is pretty confident that her tactic of ignoring Blake completely is paying dividends, as she's not given him a reason to not keep her around, which, let's be honest, talking to him for thirty seconds definitely will.

The girls sit around and chat a bit. Laurina enters with a glass of wine to explain to the others how horrible she is. Sam doesn't think Laurina is here for love, which is a bit cruel, given Laurina is incapable of understanding any human emotions.

It's time for the rose ceremony. One of the women - I don't know which one, one of the dark-haired ones - says she thinks all of the women want a rose tonight. It's an interesting theory: do all the women, indeed, want to not be eliminated from the competition they have entered? Only time will tell, I guess.

As the roses are handed out, many of the women, and one hundred percent of the audience, is hoping Laurina does not get a rose, and if possible falls into a ditch or gets bitten by a pig or something on the way home. Laurina is fairly sure she will get a rose though, because when she was modelling she learned that men like women who are models, and as she has modelling experience she is fairly sure that Blake will enjoy her ability to model and therefore choose her. Laurina really wants a rose, as it would reinforce her reasons for being here. What those reasons are, we're still not sure: something to do with eating human flesh or opening some kind of portal to the netherworld I assume.

Luckily Anita gets a rose, obviating the need to assault anyone. So does Diana, thus extending the amount of time she's had to spend without professional mental health care.

It's time for the last rose. Three ladies left: only one can stay. Will it be Laurina? Bridgette-Rose? Tiarnar? Will arrogance and obnoxiousness win the day against being boring and people not really knowing which one you are? The suspense is...I dunno.

It turns it's Laurina, Blake being unable to resist the opportunity to learn more about the fascinating world of modelling. Bridgette-Rose and Tiarnar head home, knowing their one chance at happiness is gone forever and they will live many long years of loneliness and regret. Not that Bridgette-Rose has given up entirely. "I hope there's still someone out there for me, or at least I hope there is," she says, her grief having destroyed her ability to form cogent sentences.

Back at the mansion, Laurina is devastated that her best friend has left: her best friend being...I dunno, one of those ones who just left. It's suggested to her that she should be happy that she is still in the house. Laurina doesn't care. It means nothing to her. She has no interest in Blake. "I'm here for me," she says. At some point someone will explain to her the premise of the show she is on and she will be shocked. For now, she weeps, having been told by a producer that eliminated contestants are taken out the back and shot.

Tomorrow on The Bachelor, Blake will say insincere things in a really deep voice, and the women will act really bitchy towards each other. It's the twist that will change the game forever.

BELOW: Blake and Jessica get up close and steamy on their date.

Bernard's Long Night Of The Soul

The candles flickered in the library. The lone figure, bent wearily over his books, shook his head and sighed. He had been there from early morning, and now, in the small hours, he was thoroughly exhaused. Yet he would not rest, for he knew - somehow in his bones he knew - that what he was looking for was somewhere in here.

"Mr Gaynor?" enquired the librarian timidly, approaching the desk. "I really should be closing the library, sir. Perhaps you should go home."

Bernard did not lift his head, but let a light chuckle escape his lips.

The librarian was uncertain of her next move. "Mr Gaynor?"

"Dammit woman!" he exploded, turning his flashing, manly eyes upon her. "Do you think truth and justice run according to your schedules?"

The librarian had to admit, on brief reflection, that they did not. Gaynor waved in her face the hefty leatherbound tome over which he had most recently been poring. It was a dusty volume from the late 19th century, titled "HOW TO DO A SEX WITH LADIES". On the desk lay pages and pages of scribbled notes and a variety of other texts, some similarly aged, some modern, but all of them on related subjects: "HOW OUR BITS WORK" lay beside "RUDE PARTS AND WHAT THEY DO", which lay underneath "ANIMALS DOING IT IN PICTURES". Across the desk was "WHAT TO DO IF YOU ARE KISSING" and "WHO SHOULD BE ON TOP ANYWAY?", while tossed in frustration to the floor was a selection including "WHERE WHICH GOES IN WHAT FOR KIDS", "HAPPY TIMES WITH WIVES" and "HOW TO TELL IF YOU ARE A BOY".

Clearly the scholar had been studying intently in search of something, but what? The librarian shook her head and retreated. Locking the door behind her, she left him to his studies, all through the night.

Gaynor's eyes darted across the page in the dim light. He knew it was here: the key to all his theories, the one discovery that would electrify the world and prove once and for all that his warnings were timely and correct, and that indeed, the gays were seeking to steal his organs.

He flicked through pages and pages of diagrams and photographs and scholarly monographs and graphic depictions. He licked his lips, aroused and stimulated in a philosophical sense. He was so close, so close that he could taste it. Or at least he could taste something. It was salty.

And then...he saw it.

"YES!" he shrieked, his voice echoing around the musty halls of knowledge. All alone, he danced a dance of triumph. "I have it!" he yelled happily. "I have it!"

He leapt through the window, rolling joyously onto the grass amid a shower of broken glass, and rushed off in the direction of Officeworks to have as many laminated copies of his discovery made as possible, for dissemination amongst the media which would be in a few hours assembled on his doorstep.

For there, flapping wildly in his hand like the cape of a great hero of antiquity, was the book that contained the key, that would end the argument once and for all and allow Bernard to usher in a new age of genuine Christian love and well-oriented decency. It flapped and snapped in the breeze created by his great cross-lawn speed, his thumb placed still in the middle, keeping it open on the page which bore the great truth, the awesome discovery he had stumbled upon. For there, upon those yellowing, crackly pages, were the words with which he would change the world:

"PENIS GOES IN VAGINA"

He cackled gleefully. From now on, everything was going to be all right.

My Blocking Policy: A Public Information

A lot of people these days are on Twitter. And a lot of those people who are on Twitter can get very passionate about things. These people mostly look like this:

One of the things they get passionate bout is being blocked. For those of you who aren't on Twitter because you're on some kind of reality show where you're only allowed to use technology from the 17th century or something, being "blocked" means another Twitter user has decided that they wish not to see what you tweet, to not allow you to see what they tweet, and to, in a general sense, cut off communications between your account and theirs.

Blocking can be very upsetting, obviously. It's never nice to be told you're not wanted, and so I understand perfectly when people arc up and get snitty about being blocked. I understand why they say things like "Oh I was blocked by Ben Pobjie - turns out he's too precious to take criticism" or "Ben Pobjie claims to support free speech yet he blocks me #irony". They don't say these things just because they're cretins - they say them because they are in a state of high emotion that makes them act like cretins.

What they want, most of all, is to know why. It's agony to be blocked on Twitter and have no idea of the reason - it turns one's whole life into a desert of shifting sands. Certainty vanishes and all is a fog of mistrust and anxiety. I appreciate this.

This is why I have decided to lay out, here and now, my Blocking Policy.

That's right, all my Twitter blocking is done according to a strict charter, which governs my blocking activity. Once you know what this consists of, I'm sure you'll have a much better understanding of why I blocked you, or why I'm about to.

My Blocking Policy is a five-point policy. Every single block I engage in is done for one or more of these five points, which are, and I can't stress this enough, the ONLY reasons I ever block anyone.

So, you know, if you've been blocked by me, it was because:

1. I don't want to talk to you.

2. I don't want you to talk to me.

3. I don't want me to be talked to by you.

4. Talking, in terms of the two of us, has become undesirable to me.

5. What I want is to do things which aren't talking to you or being talked to by you.

So there you go. I hope that's clear.