Re: Courtney Dober - Abigail Thomason - Bachelorette AU - Season 2 - Discussion - Fan Forum

[Norcalgal]

@blueblues As the saying goes, it only takes "the one" to make you into a better person. I've so enjoyed getting to know Courtney through this process as I feel his AU Bachette edit made him seem so flat.

[blueblues]

@blueblues As the saying goes, it only takes "the one" to make you into a better person. I've so enjoyed getting to know Courtney through this process as I feel his AU Bachette edit made him seem so flat.

I don’t necessary think it makes her a better person though. I like her the way she is. I just think it shows that she is happy and content.

I was thinking about watching Courtney’s season to get to know him better too. Is it worth it?

[blueblues]

I could post about these two all the time, but I’m trying to hold back. This one is too good, though.


lilymcmanus This afternoon I got an email from a cosmetic medicine company that offered to laser off my freckles in return for Instagram advertisement. Having so many young women hanging out here I am responsible to talk openly about this poop. I. Will. Never. Promote. A. Product. That. Profits. From. A. Woman’s. Self. Esteem. Cheers.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BiYIxq-ArNx/

[Diana]

Love that and her. She is awesome IMO.

[Guest]

I saw that and loved what she said.

Some others could learn a few things from her!

[flojo031]

Definitely, hell I wish I were more like her! Bad-azz, cool and confident. I'm trying though!

[Bobette]

Lily's second blogpost, including BTS Winter Games gossip.  It's long!

Love Cult: Round 2
 
Earlier today, my good friend was talking about planets and poop to me over an overpriced acai bowl. “I hate talking about this kind of stuff because I feel like I’m going to be put on the “overheard LA” Instagram page for saying this type of LA poop aloud BUT the planets this month are whack. This month is all about miscommunication.”
Coco and I stared back at her blankly, stirring our soggy hempseed granola in a clockwise motion whilst the ‘**** acai bowls’ tattoo on my right foot ached from the irony.
“you both feel like wet socks, right?”
we both nodded our necks flaccidly.
“it’s the universe, everyone is ******** up.”
If this post is as soggy as this morning’s breakfast, I am sorry. Hopefully the planets will be a slightly less deep fried by the next one.

How the hell did this next bit start? I remember the conversation so well because I threw up afterwards. Not from lack of enthusiasm. Instead from an unheard enthusiasm for white wine and the crippling urge to drink my way straight to 3am burritos and away from this social climber’s wet dream. The night before I attended an Event, otherwise translated as a jungle gym sticky with champagne for basically anyone in New Zealand with over 10 thousand followers on Instagram. The kind of event you find yourself accidentally stumbling upon once in the firm cusp of D grade celebretism. These events make a woman like myself feel so dirty she may as well drink a litre of hand sanitiser to get the paw marks off her skin the next day.

The phone rang and I remember thinking ‘much too loud’.
“hello?”
“Hi Lily, It’s Diana here from Warner Brothers”
“Aww mate how the bloody hell are you?”
Dianna was a part of the crew on my season of the bachelor New Zealand, to this day I still don’t know what she does for work but whatever it is, she’s a good bitch about it.
“I’m well! Look, I’m calling regarding a second TV show we have put you forward for in the states, as you know, we think you’re great and we think you’d be a perfect fit for this new show.”
“IS IT SURVIVO-“
“No.”
“F*ck”
“But we think you’ll like it, it’s right up your alley.”
“Come on sweet cheeks, just between you and me..”
“We can’t tell you anything, just expect a call within the next few weeks for more details.”

That is how the conversation ended. You know when you are just so disgustingly down to bang your significant other, yet they slap you down with the “goodnight” bullcrap? That’s how it felt. I was left far too high and far too dry. I spent the following week filled to the brim with a milkshake concoction of confusion and anticipation. The following week was simply a 1 ingredient beverage, made purely from 100% organic confusion. I started to doubt the phone call even happened, mostly because I was still drunk whilst I had it. Honestly, eventually, I forgot. Which lead to mild confusion 3 weeks down the line when I answered another phone call.
“Hi! Lily, It’s Lindsay, I’m the producer on the bachelor US”
We had a chat about a new spin off show they were creating called ‘The Bachelor Winter Games’. I was given the roughest idea about what I could expect. Now I understood why they thought I would be so into it. Snowboarding. Like a small, clean child in a candy store just itching to get sticky in places you didn’t think a child could get sticky. They had me right where they wanted me. So, I said yes. I spent a good few weeks pondering on the decision to go on The Bachelor New Zealand. The first two weeks were spent with a firm ‘no’ lingering on my tongue. Deciding to say “yeah aight” and give her a go brought me nothing but a steaming hot plate of good things, both mentally and physically. I’d be a straight up muppet to not be open to round two.
 
A few weeks later I flew into LA for an Audition. Once I got to the hotel I was chaperoned from my room into the audition room where I announced upon arrival “I’m not wearing a bra and I just realised in the elevator mirror that you can see my titties”. Everyone laughed. The lady that was interviewing me had a look of both disgust and lust in her eyes. I was asked to speak in front of a camera about my past bachelor experience and myself as a whole living, breathing organism. I did not plan for the conversation to get as deep inside my organs as it did. I was the ripe avocado on sale and this woman was a millennial that stress eats avocado toast at 3am. After the interview she lead me into another room where a couch full of humans were congregated, watching the whole interview from a TV screen in the next room. First thing I thought was “****, probably should not have talked about that time I had 12 pet rabbits in one go”. Yet they loved it, all of it. From every bad tattoo to questionable comment that leaked from between my teeth. They asked me what I was looking for in a man. I hate this question. I don’t ever look for things. Once I didn’t see my phone for 2 weeks so I assumed it was gone. I accidentally found it one morning in the kitchen draw where you keep big spoons, two weeks later. It’s like when someone asks you to stand up and say something about yourself in front of a group, I’d rather listen to the sound of a dog regurgitating its food. Yet after spitting the answer down the lens of a camera 46 times last year, I think I got it.
“I want a man who is aware of exactly who he is, whatever the hell that is. A man whose’ fragile masculinity is not threatened by any bone in my body”. They said that they hoped they could find that man for me here. I left the room sceptical and feeling like I’d drank 9 coffees at one time through a beer bong. That last part might have stemmed from the fact that everyone in that room could see what my chest was packing throughout the whole interview. Kind of like when you have no clean pairs of underwear so you wear none to the grocery store and feel a little risky. Same high, different context. I approached my leaving date and realised that I’d spent my whole time in LA locked in a hotel room talking about a man I didn’t think I was going to find and a feeling a thought I lost the capacity to feel. The next day I got on a flight, ate a hospital grade sleeping pill and let the wave take me back to shore, 3/12 Don Croot street, Auckland, New Zealand.

I got the email that I got the gig a few weeks later. The show was scheduled to start filming in a few months. I dabbled in some weird poop whilst waiting but eventually the day came. I packed my things and flew into something I knew nothing about, not exactly unheard of behavior for me. When I arrived in the US I was collected by a ‘men in black’ type character who drove me a few hours into Boston. He was a nice man, sweet on the palate. My jaw was loose so he pulled over so I could sit in the front seat to discuss aliens whilst I played the B52’s on the radio. Once we arrived he gave me his card and it fell from his mouth that he’d love to drive me home once I got ‘eliminated’. Neither of us had a clue that it would end up any other way.

Upon arrival I was chaperoned to my hotel room where I was stuck with nothing but two double beds and daytime TV as dry the complimentary hotel biscuits. I had various conversations with producers, chaperons, anything I could get my dirty fingernails on. I was kept well from reach of anyone else who would be participating on the show, apart from Ally. Ally was on my season of the bachelor. We shared a bed when the show traveled to Thailand. I fought her in my sleep, punched her right in the tit. We were inseparable ever since. I asked a producer if they thought there was going to be anyone on the show that I liked. They said “I think there’s a guy here for you, not too sure a about the girls…”. I grew up with older brothers, that tends to visibly seep out of my pores. There were fittings, photo shoots, interviews and a whole lot of ‘do whatever the **** you want in the confines of this hotel room without internet or a phone’ time. Which for me meant sleeping and seeing how many hotel coffees I could drink until I felt like I wanted to die. Night two of love cult confinement and I was still super jet lagged. At 3 am I found myself wide eyed and high strung. I was itching for itches that weren’t itchy. I left a hand towel in my door lock and snuck out to the hotel reception to steal 16 small containers of half and half for no reason at all apart from wanting to feel like I’ve successfully accomplished something, anything, even if it was a minor crime or contractual breach.

The day of the parade rolled on in like half chewed tennis ball. I was reunited with Ally and we were loaded into the car that would take us to the parade. Her voice felt warm on the insides of my head, it reminded me of home. We drove to where the parade was being held and waited in the car at the top of the street. After I realised that not even my tongue could get anything fresh from my chaperone’s mouth I started to look elsewhere for some clues as to what the **** I had gotten myself into. I saw a car unload. A flock of fluffy white coated humans emerged from a small buss like freshly blow-dried sheep leaving the womb. An American flag was slapped on their jackets like a sale sign on expired meat. Next were two Swedish flags followed by a blur of me being handed a cliff bar and being too distracted by the snacks. By the time I was looking out the window again the car door opened.
 “AIGHT! LADIES! LES GO!”
This parade was a big blur of what the actual ****. I don’t even want to write about it because it would just be a waste of everyone’s braincells. What I will say, is that I am not the kind of women who believes in love at first sight. Love at first sight is just a women’s ovaries high jacking her brain for reproductive evolutional advantage. Both your left and your right ovary are harmoniously screaming at you that that 5’6’ guy would make an ideal mate because he is tall and could probably beat a tiger in fight. It is all just science. Yet I do believe in gravitation and attraction and those bad boys were in full stir.

We arrived back at the mansion and I had never in my whole life been thirstier for the dirtiest beer that bar could lubricate my throat with. I could dive deep into the details of the post parade mingling but I refuse to, the chat is no good. Just imagine a bar full of cats on heat, drinking milk, talking poop about how they got rejected on national TV. Minus the cats and I am pretty sure the house only stocked almond milk. Time and liquid yeast has put a mild fog over that night but there is one thing that is still embedded in my brain. That thing is a Courtney. I don’t really remember how it happened or what we talked about. Australian’s tend to naturally gravitate towards one another. He probably just said the word “hectic” and I was like cool he’s my favorite here so far. I remember the boy asking “everyone is getting in the hot tub, you down?”
I disappeared upstairs to change into my swimmers. By the time I got back he was standing there, with all his long limbs sill in working order, looking the mildest amount grim.
“Everyone bailed on us, are you still keen?”
“Of course”
We sat in that jacuzzi for what felt like the best 6 years of my life. Those 6 hours were the start of a second love affair. From that moment on, I went inside that jacuzzi every god damn night and stayed inside her until a staff member had to physically drag my dripping limbs out. That was why every time Chris Harrison initiated one of those weird team meetings, the camera would always cut to me in a damp towel sporting the moist pony tail look. Apart from my kindling romance with a square tub of hot dead skin soup, nothing much else went down. The producers watching later told me that they were all yelling “kissssssssss her yOU IDIOT” from the window. I didn’t notice. I didn’t care. My cheeks were sore, that’s all that mattered.

I woke up the next morning still in my wet swimmers, I was disgusted yet did not surprise me. The next 24 hours were practically the same, just a different ego crippling activity during the day. Court and myself where doing our standard rounds. He was making my face hurt and I was returning the favor. The thing I liked most about Court from the get go with was how laid back he was, literally, he laid about 30 centimeters back at all times. It is nice to have someone grope you with what comes out of their mouth instead of the wet muscles inside of their mouth for time to time. I was conscious of the fact he hadn’t laid a hand on me since we had met. I didn’t mind, I felt warm without him touching me. Don’t worry, I cringe reading that too. Please firmly secure your organs because from here on out it might be too much soppy cereal for your bowl of milk.

I may have already said once in the last 55 words, “the thing I liked most about Courtney for the get go was” but I am going to say it again because another good sort just entered the space between my ears. I believe anyone with 36.5-degree Celsius blood in their veins shies away from shoving their tongue down somebody else’s throat on camera. The bachelor breed are slightly different, Charles Darwin theory of evolution, we are simply more adapted to our environment. We’ve been bred with a different kind of soul mate searching work ethic: Get your tongue dirty or go home. For myself personally, it’s a long shot before I get those words tattooed on my foot. My mum once told me that people who are too comfortable with a public tongue cuddles are just simply lizards with good looking skin on the outside. My mum never told me that but I will tell my own daughter one day, don’t worry.
My favourite thing about Courtney part 2: was how private he was about it all. I am naturally a fairly private person and it makes me feel like I have a mosquito bite on my foot when I put all of my cards out on the table. In this case my cards being my own tongue and the table being Courtney’s mouth. We were sitting in an unlit stairwell drinking beer, trying to catch a break from all the white noise. I remember being half way through a sentence when he kissed my face. I had no idea that was his game plan, he played his cards well. Subconsciously I think I knew that he would make a great drunk UNO player which would be passed on to our offspring, an essential life skill for all mammals. It's just science. Either way I could feel myself tearing a small hole in this man and making myself at home. We hung out a hand full more after that before he asked me “what are you doing after this?”
“Nothing and I hate that. I’m all the way over here and I feel like all that travel potential is being wasted.”
“Come hang out with me. We’ll get an RV and drive around.”
“Count me in.”


It felt like before we even knew each other’s last names we were branded that couple within the house.  You know the ones. The two people that whenever they are around everyone is like "YEAH YEAH, WE GET IT YOU GUYS ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER" whilst their chests ache mildly and a little wine leaks from the corner of their mouth. I never thought I’d be that guy, I was unaware that I had the capacity to be even half of that. I thought I would be the bitch who would go into this, maybe play tonsil hockey with one guy and be like nah I fucked up then vote myself to go home. I was open, I am always open enough to the idea of finding somebody. There’s usually an assumption attached to my age that because I’m 21 I should be pre-drinking right now, instead of writing this I should be passed out in a gutter with a burrito encrusted into my freshly manicured hand. That I should be seeing every Sunday morning through the unwashed sheets of a 21-year-old boy I don’t know the name of. Seeing the world, “experimenting”, “living a little” and not “settling down”. I’ve seen a lot, I may as well have a PHD in chemistry with my portfolio of experimentation and boy have I had a mouthful of life. I do not think that meeting a person that you want to spend the rest of your life with necessarily means that they will ‘settle’ you, that they will fill your womb with a 10-pound weight imprisoning you to the flavorless suburban neighborhood of life. I think finding your person early in life can only bring you good things, not only for your love life but for your character, your confidence, they should push and support you whilst letting you be your own person and make your own choices. If they do any less than that the they are not it. I’ve never been one to be on my hands and knees searching for it, actively seeking it, perspiring over the thought of it, crying whilst I masturbate over it. I’m happy by myself, I’m a well oiled independent women thing. I can do all the things. I don’t need a whole lot of help. Which can be both a blessing and a **** around, everyone needs help. That’s another hole I’m not putting my tongue down tonight.

Courtney, everything that happened between myself and that man was so seamless. Everything just happened so effortlessly. The bachelor environment just acted like a good quality water-based lube. Everything was easy but I am not so great with easy. I started to think with the wrong part of my brain. The producers were like “so you and Courtney are getting along well! This is great! Everything is perfect!” but I would subconsciously slap back “is it though?” I haven’t spent a good chunk of my life watching things go by smoothly, seeing life just be a glistening slice of pie in the sun. It’s an instinctual reaction, it reflected nothing about how I felt about Courtney. I started cracking gently around the edges half way through my love cult stay. One morning during an interview one of the woke producers said to me “**** lily. You can’t think like that. If you think like that it WILL happen. Good things do happen and I’m sorry that you’re not accustomed to them but stay open to it. Let yourself be proven wrong.” I just sat there with my long fingers curled in my lap, absolutely gobsmacked by his wokeness (sorry I’ve used that word twice in two sentences but I forgot it existed till just then and now I am so excited to have her back). So, I did, I gave it over to something bigger, something that was not my own head. I let the idea absorb that this one would be worth the time.

One of the producer’s used to ask me, “do you and Courtney know each other outside of the show.” I’d say “no, but it feels like we do”. I know I have to get to the part where I get soft skinned soon, so we may as well open the Christmas presents early. Have a towel on hand as this part might make you wet, whether it be between your eyes or your legs, either way I’ve done my job.

I remember one morning at 3 am, me and Court where damp with jacuzzi juice, mingling under the dinning room coffee table. We hadn’t been drinking that night in a desperate attempt to heal our organs as a team. I was bone cold sober and both my eyes and my mouth were dripping wet from talking so much poop. As we melted underneath the table from sore stomach muscles we constructed a list of things to google once we got our phones back and hung it on the kitchen fridge for the other contestants to contribute to. First question: 'How do they get the seeds out of the strawberries to make strawberry jam? small colander? How the ****?' The list went on in that same “I’m not stoned but I probably should be” tone.  The next morning a staff member came into my room and was like “LILYYYYYY there’s a surprised downstairs for you” I was expecting a puppy. I told her to hold the hell up because I needed to change out of my ‘my grandkids are cute as buttons’ sweatshirt because that kind of content was too emotionally conflicting for viewers. As I was just about to head down stairs Court met me at my bedroom door holding a plate of breakfast “I didn’t want it to get cold”. This ham and cheese muffin was the puppy I never knew I wanted. He was the original breakfast maker, the real deal. The stunt was replicated by others on the show but never as well executed in my completely biased opinion. One morning Courtney and myself were stretching out our freshly skied limbs on the wooden floor of the kitchen, collecting floor crumbs with our skin. Everyone around us was talking about things that mattered, love and stuff, whilst I stretched his hamstrings far past the average man’s capacity. All of this floor work was being performed very much in the way of every camera man trying to capture the juicy poop, not the weird poop. On another occasion Court and myself found our leg muscles to be a bit tight, we are both the breed of dog that appreciates a good walk. We weren’t allowed past the boundary line of the house so we milked that for what it was worth, doing small figure eights of the front yard, linked in limbs, talking poop about hostels and hollowing out the insides of a van. The camera men looked at us like we were cute but definitely not all there, the kind of look you give a small child eating sand.  

One evening I was simply ill with a disease called ‘sick of everyone’s poop’. No one was even giving me poop, I am just the kind of person that needs to be by themselves to regenerate essential brain cells. I went upstairs for a little break from the love cult to find Ally reading on her bed upstairs. This woman had the same disease. She asked me what was up and I said “nothing, I just do not feel like being TV’s bitch right now”. She could tell I was mildly strung, that women know my emotions and how I wear them like the back of her hand. I sat down on the carpet by the edge of her bed and pressed my thumbs into my eye sockets in desperate attempt to reach the back of my skull. “Lie down girl” she said in her soothing English accent. My head hit the carpet that covered a gorgeous dark wooden floor. “Meditation helps, close your eyes and pretend you are somewhere else”. “I am by the water, it is bloody hot and I am wearing no clothes.” “Good, stay there.” Whilst pretending I was not where I was a handler walked in. “Lily, can we get you and court outside chatting about something neither of you give a blistered bleeding **** about?” I am sure that was not quite word for word but it's how my ears heard it. “Nah”. She seemed mildly panicked and moderately confused
“What?”
“I said nah, I just can’t be assed. I am enjoying my time here in Mexico.”
 She looked at me like I had just stepped on a freshly born puppy. I was slipping, just mildly. At that moment I saw a forced conversation between myself and Courtney to be straight up crippling and out of character. I was being a little piece of work but I let myself bath in it. So, she slid out and tapped Courtney in. I still don’t know how that boy did it, but somehow, he manged to untie all the knots in my head.

Eventually the house family became slim. Things grew and things broke. The night Ally left I was upset yet it had undertones of relief. Like putting down a sick dog, that girl was not where she needed to be. Al left the night of the last rose ceremony, unwell in both her heart and her head. Apart from all the mates leaving that last rose ceremony was actually a good time. We were told with champagne close enough to our lips to ease the news that we’d be putting our tongues down each other’s throats competitively. I think everyone in the room simultaneously finished their glass. I myself was in the breezier of positions, at least I knew the taste of the tongue I was going to have in my mouth. Clair didn’t and Ally would only taste the contents of her own stomach. Those two women defiantly had the blunt end of the stick. Myself and Courtney refilled our glasses and went to sit by the fire place. We brewed up a plan so extravagant I had Vodka soda leaking out the sides of my mouth. It was going to be the goddamn dumbest thing America had ever seen, even after several producer warnings, we still thought our plan was going to be born into the world beautifully. Like two parents in denial about how bad looking their own child is. We all stood on the little rose ceremony platform thing and waiting for our names to be called. Dean and Leslie were up first. After demonstrating bodily movements that look like something you’d see from a 7/20 performance on dancing with the stars, they kissed. Even when a kiss looks like a good time I still pull the corners of my mouth to the bottom of my chin because, lizards. The judges dragged them, mildly. It got the guts of what this was pretty quick, the judges wanted to be able to fondle themselves mildly under the table over this kiss. Ashley and Kevin were up next and only further confirmed the theory. Soft porn reality TV was in, anything mildly entertaining was out. I looked back and Court and he looked concerned.
He lent forward and whispered into my ear “I don’t know if we should do this...”
“Alright **** it, just follow my lead.”
Luke and Stass where up next. I threw up a mildly in my mouth but it was out of love, Stass looked so genuinely consumed by that boy, she was simply regurgitating the love she had for him out of her heart and into his throat. Like how a mother bird feeds her son. I hope that analogy evoked an uncomfortable feeling inside you all similar to the uncomfort I felt witnessing that kissing competition as a whole.
Courtney and myself were called up next. We walked to the judges table, shook hands and said our hellos to Rachel, JoJo and Arie. The girls were glowing whilst Arie looked like he needed 9 beers. We positioned ourselves where requested and were told we were good to go. I turned to the judges and said
“Usually you shouldn’t kiss a woman with red lipstick on but... **** it”
I then turned to Courtney and attached my legs to his waste all whilst making sure I kissed him in a way that got the most amount of lipstick on his face as humanely possible. Everyone loved it, apart from Arie “it was fun but it lacked romance”. He’s right, proposing to one women then back peddling for another has a much more romantic edge. I didn’t mind getting it wrong, I stood by Courtney's face for the rest of that night like a child proud of it's own finger painting. Bibi and Jord were next with a special guest feature from the contents of Ally’s stomach. Follow by Josiah being a hero and going to town on that anyway. The whole  competition played back on TV is just cuts of myself and Courtney looking like we tried to resuscitate a watermelon. At the end of the night we were all hanging upstairs. I was sitting up high on top of a bench with Court between my legs. A producer came up to us and grabbed Court by the arm "You guys. Are the reason I do my job" then he slipped away as if he hadn't just made my heart ache a little.

The night Jord left I wasn’t even conscious. Towards the end of the journey we were all pretty worn and torn. Being forced to put on a pair of skis as a snowboarder is equally as damaging to the immune system as the common cold. Once roused from in the morning I made my way to the dressing room, a room where women grazed at their own reflections in well-lit mirrors and prodded at their manes with hot tools for breakfast. I slumped down by my suitcase in track suit pants and pawed at my eyes begging for them to wake up.
“What the hell happened last night?”
“Bibi left”
“Poor thing. Was she alright?”
“Yeah, kind of...”
“How about Jords, how is he this morning?”
“Oh he left too”
“WHAT? NOOOOOO nO no no no no mother ffffffff I didn’t get to say goodbye!”
the information was too much for the soft tissue inside my skull. Jordan was New Zealand’s second bachelor, a tough gig to try and top the bone structure of the guy before him. I’d never met Jordan before Winter games, despite New Zealand being the size of my baby toe. I’d heard people trash talk him in the media but I’ve always been one to want to brew my own opinion, so I left the page empty for him. Despite the show’s initial attempt to paint him in the douche light, I think he’s a great lump of skin and I think I’ll stick by those words till the day I die. Jord is a good kid, he’ll find his women.

One thing lead to the next and myself and Courtney found ourselves knee deep in “why the **** haven’t we gotten a date yet?”. Our first TV date was the fantasy suits which is pretty much a piece of paper that said 'You guys wanna bang on national TV or what? -Chris Harrison.' Fantasy suits lit the candle but we blew it straight out. I was asked to stay overnight in a fantasy suit on my season on the bachelor New Zealand. I declined the offer with an expression on my face that could have fooled the medical team into thinking I was having a stroke. Sedated by wine and expensive cheese, I melted into a soft leather of a coach worth more than the hospital fees attached to my birth. I shook my head slowly and tried to explain how I felt, I don’t think I did a good job but he got the point. None of it ever felt necessary to me, he did not need to know the inside of my uterus to find out if I am a good guy or not. Call me old fashion but I think intimacy is such a personal thing. Neither myself nor Courtney felt the need to share such personal information, we were cool to keep it between our two-man team. We rocked up to our hotel room and sat down on a couch. You could tell the whole crew had lubrication on standby just in case someone got their heart stuck in their throat. The table itself was lubricated with about $100 worth of sushi so that's where our hearts were stuck. It got to the point where one of the producers had to chime in “No one actually eats on these dates, can you guys can you stop eating and talk about your feeling?”. An hour of chewing audio later and we got down to business. Conversation has always been a little too easy with Court. The chat never has much substance yet tonight's episodic story line was hungry and substance was on the menu.  

“Lily.. you make me feel things I’ve never felt before” I tried to hold back 90% of the noise my throat makes when I’m smitten. “I’m sorry” I managed. this entrée of substance was later followed by a main meal of “I’m falling in love with you” from Court’s end of the court. I don’t even have word for the warmth I had in my chest. The idea never crossed my mind yet I never questioned my reciprocation, the last three times someone has spat an “I love you” at me in life it tasted like hesitation and itchy feet. This one tasted like “same” and salmon avocado sushi. The producers pulled us away for interviews then we regrouped back on the couch. Court started dropping feelings, I started melting, then the boy knee. Again, the orignal and best knee dropper in my completely biased opinion. My face dropped and I could feel my complexion whitening by the minute. “So I was wondering if you would…” He reached towards the ground without breaking eye contact, tough gig when my eyes probably looked like they wanted to break his legs. “I was wondering…” I broke gaze briefly to look for one of the producers trying to figure out which one of them was a good enough gardener to plant this seed. “I was wondering if you’d… ACCEPT THIS SHOEY?!” He yanked off his leather shoe and poured his glass into the shoe. I yelped a firm “yes” before he even got a chance to get all the words out. I put down that foot spiced beer down my throat like it was the last shoey I’d ever get to taste. I had plenty of flavours in my mouth, substance, wine and feet. Yet what goes up must come down and he night had to wrap itself up eventually. Deciding not to stay together over night, the cameras packed up and we both parted ways back to our own rooms. The next day I was woken for the whole morning after orgasm montage scene yet due to the circumstances and lack of clothing on the floor for tight shots, the camera guys seemed mildly confused. Court stood on the ground below my window. They were chasing Shakespeare vibes, instead Courtney threw snowballs at my window and I threatened to call the cops.

That morning we were scheduled to film our final ice dancing routine. Now I don’t want to say the whole thing was rigged but the whole thing was rigged. The kangaroo hop was thigh dampening regardless of the fact that I looked like an oversized toddler. Chances are if you are reading this you saw how it went down. Regardless of the outcome I still consider myself to be a winner, I won this 6ft2.5 elegant piece of work with a poor ability to grow facial hair yet a strong ability to make me really, really ******** happy. We wrapped filming, said goodbye to the beloved lump of wood we called home and went back to the hotel as couples. Although the love cult was coming to close, Courtney and myself were on the cusp of a new love cult, one a little bit more up our alley.

Till next time you bloody good things.

Lily

Source

[Guest]

She pretty much validated what I felt about the ending of the show with this... "Now I don't want to say the whole thing was rigged but the whole thing was rigged."

I said at that time that even though they had the best routine (IMO) they weren't going to win because neither one of them were from the USA. It had to be either Ashley/Kevin or Luke/Stassi and no way TPTB were going to give it to Luke.

Love her and Courtney!

[Norcalgal]

@Bobette You bring the best presents when you post!

[Bobette]

@Bobette You bring the best presents when you post!

You're welcome!  Like @blueblues I feel like I need to restrain myself from turning this into some kind of cult-like Lily shrine, but this is BWG related so thought it was my duty to share.  Love that everything fits with what we saw on screen - a genuine, naturally-evolving relationship.

I love the way she writes!  A bit slack grammatically but makes up for it with sass Anyone else think it's weird though that she said she didn't know Jordan before BWG?  I'm sure there were pics of the two of them hanging out in NZ before the show.  Maybe she meant they met at casting?  

She was also pretty restrained talking about the cocktail parties and "rigged" ending.  I feel like she probably had some restrictions placed on her about what she could and couldn't say but still an excellent read - I got so engrossed it made me late getting my children to school.

[Bobette]

@blueblues As the saying goes, it only takes "the one" to make you into a better person. I've so enjoyed getting to know Courtney through this process as I feel his AU Bachette edit made him seem so flat.

I don’t necessary think it makes her a better person though. I like her the way she is. I just think it shows that she is happy and content.

I was thinking about watching Courtney’s season to get to know him better too. Is it worth it?

Yes, definitely worth it @blueblues.  Courtney actually got a very interesting edit.  The Lead was SUPER into him, but clearly it didn't work out or he wouldn't now be with Lily...

He wasn't portrayed as a villain but the edit did make him look cold and aloof IMO.  I felt like I saw the "real" Courtney more on BWG but watch it and tell us what you think!

If you can't watch on TenPlay, it's on the Bachelor Archive Google page.  Go Here and request access, then Here to watch the show.  It's Bach AU S2, 2016, Georgia Love.  

Georgia had some GREAT guys. Her F2 went on to be the next season's lead so once you see her finale you'll probably want to watch that (it's also on the Google page).

[Norcalgal]

@Bobette Cool and aloof definitely describes Courtney's edit on Georgia's season. He just wasn't feeling it! On paper, they seemed to have a lot in common but it just goes to show that personal chemistry is everything!

I love how chill Courtney was in wooing Lily. If he came on too strong, it wouldn't have worked with her. I felt how their relationship developed on a TV SHOW was very organic to what might have happened IRL.

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