"Oh, my God, she's a star sign chick." And the balloon is popped. Awesome.
This is five minutes after the said groom saying his new, previously unmet bride. Picky much.
Married at First Sight is my guilty pleasure. I know it's confected rubbish. I know that it's so far from reality that they really shouldn't be branding it as such.
And I've never missed an episode.
So, of the two night's we've seen so far, a little of my faith in humanity and the producers has been restored.
The chippy from the Northern Territory seems like a good bloke. He's been partnered with a woman, an accountant, who has cystic fibrosis, but has been given a new lease of life due to a new drug. They seem to have their head screwed on.
There's the Gujerati woman who's always struggled with being between two cultures, now married to somebody who also seems to be a really nice bloke - a guy with a sixteen year old daughter - and he too seems to have his head screwed on.
These two couples seem pretty normal and may be relegated to the "we never see them because they are boring" pile. I wish them luck. Both couples, from the outset, seem to be going about this with their eyes open.
Then there's the hot chippy and the make up influencer - who are already going for the drama. He's pretty hot. She's very wary.
Oh, and tonight, they introduced us to a marriage celebrant in a pink suit who's standards are impossibly high. He shushed his bride, a rather exuberant kindy teacher, on their honeymoon.
There are two man buns on the show already.
Oh, such fun.
I'm not sure why I watch this crap. Maybe it's the sense of awe I get from watching people do something I'd never have the guts to do.
It's Novocain for the mind.
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