Bitchy Survivor Blog

I Fulfilled The Requirement

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 15:08:00 +0000

My knees. My poor poor dirtied bruised knees. All this praying, all this repenting, all this kissing of dirtied sandalled feet. I've forgotten what it means to stand and move around by tits... I mean, my wits. After the soul searching and sacrificing of my beaded conch necklaces, I know one thing for sure - God doesn't care about Survivor. He doesn't care about your good deeds and he most certainly doesn't care about your sacrifices. He's too busy appearing in pancakes in New Mexico or waiting to hear his name called out at the BET awards. So now that we've learned where God's priorities lie, I'm taking a stand. I forbid anyone to invoke Him anymore on any of my reality shows. I am drawing the drunkenly squiggled line in the sand. No more God! *thunderclap in the distance* Instead, I want Pagans. Naked nature worshippers in velvet cloaks dancing under the full moon. Satyrs, nymphs, and fairy folk. Let the wind dictate the order of the day. Let the rain be our baptism. Sex under the stars, intention as our prayer, energy as our life force. Drum circles and pan pipes. Incense unfurling lazily up into the night sky. This is the Survivor of tomorrow. Why settle for one curmudgeonly God who doesn't know what the hell He wants half the time when you can have an entire pantheon of Gods and Goddesses to suit your every whim? Witches V. Druids. The most powerful spell wins. Let's recap, shall we?

We begin our final installment of Survivor: Bible Thumpers on Rhode Island (Redemption Island). Lil Hantz arrives in a fit of giggles and announces, "I got blindsided! I gave Albert my Immunity Necklace, but I got blindsided! I still love him though." Ozzy scratches his curls curiously and wonders if he'll live to see tomorrow. Clearly, a lunatic has entered his homestead, his Pleasure Dome, and it might behoove him to sleep with one eye open tonight. Brandon smiles one last crooked smile before crawling under the covers and curling up next to Ozzy. He whispers, "I love you man. God loves you, brother." Ozzy stares blankly for a smidge, but in the end decides that he's too tired to object. Besides, he's got a tailor made duel with his name spray painted on the side of it to win tomorrow. Beauty sleep comes first.

Back at Tuna Tartare (TeTuna) the mood wants to be merry. It's trying to be jolly. Instead, Coach is all twisted up in anger over Albert's lies at the last Tribal Council. His jury politicking is embarrassing at this point and that lie he told about young Brandon being safe... well, that was just cruel and unnecessary. Coach is done being made a fool of in this game. He quickly shoots a dragonfly with his pointer finger and tells us that now is the time he puts his foot down. Now is the time he puts a stop to Albert's all too transparent shenanigans. Albert listens to Coach in stony silence. Eventually he replies, "I uh I never uh meant I uh umm." Coach quiets Albert with a "shhhh". He's been officially humbled. Deep down inside I sort of hoped he'd been hobbled instead.

And this brings us to the Ozzy Lusth duel of Ozziness. Today, our Ozzys will climb up a giant pole and sit there for as long as they can. The only rule is that Ozzy cannot touch the top of the pole. Other than that, it's an Ozzy free-for-all. The Ozzy that wins this final duel will rejoin the game. Ozzys ready, go.

Our Ozzys grip their poles like horny sloths and the challenge has officially begun. Ozzy Ozzy begins to fidget early as he shifts into a pseudo standing position where he hangs on using only his pinky toes. Conversely, Brandon Ozzy sits stoically, unflinching. I can only assume he was deep in prayer in that moment. Then, like clockwork, we hear it. The familiar cries of a man desperate for votes. "Way to go Brandon! Come on brother!" It's Albert. Creepy, lackluster, ass kissing Albert.

The challenge continues yet Brandon sits comfortably. Out of the stillness we hear a slapping. Slap, slap, slap... it was perverse in it's slappiness and I thought to myself, "No! He's not really doing what I think he's doing, is he?" Turns out I'm the only pervert at the challenge as the slapping was merely Ozzy's thighs and palms climbing up and down, up and down the pole. I swished away the filthiness in my mind and crossed my fingers while I hoped for the best, but it wasn't to be... OZZY STAYS ALIVE!!!

Surprise, surprise. Ozzy wins the Ozzy Lusth challenge of Ozziness. Brandon put up a good fight, but he didn't stand a chance. Brandon seems ok with it though. He's happy for different reasons. Jubilant, if you will. He's open to God now and that's all that seems to matter to the young lad. He's a weird quirky dude with a storage unit of skeletons, but his unwavering persistence towards blind faith was quite a thing to behold. I don't pretend to understand it, but I hope the kid finds whatever it is he's looking for. Could it be that he wants what all of us to want? To be happy. To be loved. *shrugs shoulders* Eh, fuck if I know. Go treat yourself to a CHURRO tattoo Lil Hantz. You deserve it. Godspeed.

Back at Tuna Tartare, everyone is going through the motions of welcoming Ozzy back. Painted on smiles and outstretched hands mime goodness, but beneath the surface bubbles uneasiness and sorrow. Albert declares, "I want to beat his butt!" I'm sure you do Albert, but all in good time. Wear your finest to the Reunion and who knows? Maybe Ozzy will put out.

Coach pulls Ozzy to the side and genuinely congratulates him for an amazing run. Coach assures Ozzy that he's not going anywhere and that if Coach wins Immunity, he'll give Ozzy his Hidden Immunity Idol. *smacks self in head* No! No Coach, no! Ozzy eyes Coach suspiciously and isn't sure he believes the dragon slayer's promise. He says he wants to be in the end with Coach (yeah right), yet he's having a difficult time trusting his intentions. I don't know. Coach is a pretty genuine guy. I think when he says things in the heat of the moment he truly intends to follow through. His inner Coachness bursts with chivalry and loyalty. You know deep down he's dying to leap onto a horse in a suit of armor and rescue a damsel in distress in those moments. It's those whispers in time that get Coach in trouble though. It's easy to make promises when you're high on the mountaintop, but when you're back in the murky swamp of despair, they're sort of hard to see through to the end.

And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! The first person to build a stack of cards while balancing an enormous board with one hand will win Immunity. Sophie smiles to herself. She just happens to have a book at home called House Of Cards For Dummies. In between studying for finals, dissecting frogs, and not hanging out with friends Sophie'll whip up a playing card deck mansion complete with a circular driveway and a swing set. Looks like she's got this challenge in the bag. Survivors ready, go!

Sophie works quietly and quickly. She's constructs the floor beams, puts in the dry wall, and is preparing to erect some Corinthian columns when, oh shit - she's out of cards! "I ran out of cards!", she whines. Dimples shrugs his shoulders and says, "Yeah, uh card management is part of the challenge bitch." At least that's what I heard him say. Tight lipped and angry, Sophie now starts a card shanty town. Meanwhile, Ozzy and Coach are neck in neck although moving fairly slowly. Rancher Rick and Albert have yet to lay the base boards. I don't know what the hell they're doing, but don't hire either of these guys to build you a deck. Not only will it not be sturdy, but it'll probably be a decade long project.

Sophie's shanty town begins to shape up nicely when all of a sudden - splat! Fighting back tears and cursing the "For Dummies" franchise, Sophie screams, "Pick up my pieces Albert! Stop what you're doing and pick up my pieces!" Sure, Albert's house is only a half a centimeter high, but who the hell does Sophie think she is? Albert stares blankly at his house for a few seconds and then peeks over his shoulder for a look at Sophie's pieces scattered in the sand. It was just long enough for Dimples to make a spur of the moment executive decision. "Albert can't help you Sophie. This is an individual challenge," states Dimples. We all knew Dimples made that up on the fly, but I'm glad he did. Every once in a while, a know-it-all needs to be kicked back to reality. It's good for the soul.

So no matter how much Sophie bitched and how many different elevations she tried, she just couldn't build her house of cards fast enough. In the end, it came down to Coach and Ozzy. Through hands shaking like crinkly leaves, Ozzy places his final piece and... OZZY WINS IMMUNITY!!!

Ugh.

Back at camp, Sophie is devastated that she lost that challenge. She did what the book told her to do. She studied. She practiced. How could she not have won and set a precedent for all future Survivor House Of Cards (oh please, you know we'll be seeing that challenge again and again and again). So while Sophie is busy beating herself up, Albert is busy in panic mode. He goes around the camp whispering, 'It's Rick, right? We're getting rid of Rick, right?" Coach nods yes. The more he's thinks about it, the more he thinks a good ole boy like Rick could actually win. I couldn't disagree more. The good ole boys (like J.T.) win only if they're also good at challenges. Rancher Rick is a pebble on the beach. He's a leaf on a tree. He's an extra that fills an empty space. I'd like to think that no one in their right mind would award someone like that one million dollars.

Ozzy, however, thinks that Sophie is the one to get rid of. He didn't like the way she talked to Albert during the challenge. Plus, he's been hearing a lot of shady things about Sophie. During recess yesterday someone called her stuck-up. Albert listens to this and nods. Maybe they should get rid of Sophie instead? Albert scurries hither and thither, to and fro. What to do, what to do. He needs to know who they're voting out asap because it's imperative he lays his list of prepared compliments onto that person before they depart. Votes, baby!

Rancher Rick moseys through the camp, across the beach, through the trees and he catches a whiff of something in the air. Something that isn't exactly right. Has a horse gone lame? Will the corn be ready to harvest? Those things, I do not know. Maybe Coach knows. "Hey Coach, am I safe tonight?," Rancher Rick asks. Coach swats at an imaginary fly as he sharpens an imaginary arrow. "You thirsty Rick? I was uh just gonna go get some water down uh thataway," Coach replies. Then Coach shoots his arrow into the air and runs to chase it. Rancher Rick strokes his beard and thinks to himself, "Now, that was odd." And that's it for Rancher Rick. He's reached his word quota for the day.

This brings us to our first Tribal Council of the night. Brandon skips in with the Jury all bright eyed and bushy tailed. The boy is glowing. He's not grimacing like those other Bitter Bettys. Albert starts off by saying he should stay in the game because he's valuable to have in competitions against Ozzy. Ozzy laughs heartily and rolls onto the ground in a fit of giggles. "You think you can beat moi?! Ha! I'd like to see you try. Besides, Sophie is a spoiled brat and I have a final two deal with Coach. So there!"

Sophie jerks her head sideways. A brat? She's a brat? Since when?! Ozzy continues, "I've been hearing things, Dimples, and I don't like what I hear. All she does is sleep and hang out. To hell with her!" Sophie listens quietly as her lower lip starts to tremble. She's hurt and confused by the accusations. Sure, she's quiet and sure she likes to roll her eyes whenever the fancy strikes her, but that's just who she is! Ozzy gives her the hand. He doesn't want to hear it. This paradigm of perfection and fairness doesn't want to hear how someone else might be socially awkward at times. He's much too busy climbing palm trees and skinning sharks to associate with snotty brats.

Through a constant flow of tears and a hiccup-y voice, Sophie wonders why she's even here at all. She should have never come in the first place! *smacks self in head* Oy vey. Sophie is many things, but spoiled brat wasn't really a phrase I had ever associated with her... until this very moment. When this whole bruhaha started I thought that perhaps Ozzy was being a little harsh. Could it be that there really is something to his accusations? Clearly we missed a lot in the editing. Well, none of it makes any difference anyways because Rancher Rick is the 16th person voted out of Survivor South Pacific. We bid you adieu Rancher Rick. We hardly knew ye. Like seriously, who the hell are you?

Back at Tuna Tartare Ozzy can smell victory. He can almost taste it. His Plan B is to win. That also happens to be his Plan A. Well, let's just say creativity isn't Ozzy's forte. Neither is lying or acting or being humble or being likable. Meanwhile Coach is all bunged up over Ozzy blabbing his big mouth back at Tribal Council and he needs to figure out what the hell Ozzy is up to before they proceed in this game together. Ozzy adjusts his nether regions and says, "Um I've been burned in the past, man. I've been stabbed in the back. It's like impossible for me to trust people in this game, dude." Coach, being the sentimental guy that he is, buys it and is heartbroken to hear about Ozzy's plight with trust.

Here's how I see it. There are two ways to break someone's trust: out of necessity and out of malice. Coach broke Rick's trust out of necessity. It was a self preservation thing that he thought was right at the time. It probably wasn't the correct choice in the long run, but it surely wasn't done out of malice. Coach doesn't have evil intentions towards Rick. Hurting Rick's feelings hurts Coach's feelings. Conversely, there's Ozzy. Going into that last Tribal Council and blabbing to everyone that Coach confronted him with a final two deal was pure malice. It was completely unnecessary (and, knowing what we know now, was probably a million dollar mistake) and designed to make Coach look bad to the Jury. If anyone should be questioning anyone's trustworthiness, it's whether or not Coach should trust Ozzy and not the other way around. All Ozzy has to do is get to the final three. That's it! If he gets there, he's a millionaire. The problem is that he likes swinging his dick around too much. The guy can't, for one second, keep his trap shut and ride this bitch out to the end. He always has to get in the last word, the last dig, the last neverending nauseatingly verbose speech. Imagine how different things might be today if Ozzy had actually kept the secret he was supposed to keep.

And this brings us to the second Immunity Challenge of the night. Come on in guys! It's the same final challenge we see every season. Race through some cockamamie obstacle course, collect five bags of puzzle pieces, and the first person to complete their puzzle wins Immunity. Survivors ready, go!

Ozzy, Albert, and Sophie fly out of the gate like bats out of hell while Coach gets his armor stuck in a net and topples over. Leave your sword with Dimples, Coach! Our survivors race hastily through this obstacle and that. Bag after bag is collected as Ozzy, Albert, and Sophie manage to stay pretty tight with each other throughout. It was when Albert starting intentionally or unintentionally trying to teeter Sophie off of the net obstacle that things started to go awry. Sophie yelled, "Stop shaking the net Albert! And pick up my damn pieces!" while Ozzy cruised on through to the lead.

With his five bags in hand, Ozzy gets to work on the complicated puzzle. It's a puzzle unlike one we've seen before where the brackets are jagged and movable. Ozzy is flummoxed as to where his first goes and before we know it, he's blown his entire lead and Coach and Sophie are now working on their puzzles. I don't know what happened to Albert. Sophie probably pummeled him to death with her bags of puzzle pieces. *shrugs shoulders* Oh well.

Sophie manages to get her first piece locked in and it turns out that once you get your first piece in, the others fall into place as well. A panic stricken look of horror overcomes Ozzy's face so, naturally, I freeze framed it and danced around the room wearing nothing but a party hat and chaps (in honor of Rick). When I pushed play again, Ozzy locks his first piece into position, but it's too late. Sophie has too big of a lead and SOPHIE WINS IMMUNITY!!!

Through gritted teeth and blank eyes, Ozzy congratulates Sophie on her win but knows deep down inside that this is the end of the road. Everything he's accomplished and all he's worked for is about to crash down around him like a... well, like a tumbling house of cards. *does a Charlie Chaplin kick in the air* Meanwhile Coach is regaling Sophie with the most prestigious award ever in existence. It's the Dragon Slayer Medal of Excellence. Only a few are given out every few years. It's like that Swedish award everyone thinks is so important. Only this one is for knights, ninjas, charlatans, and anyone else who likes to wear jodhpurs and weaponry. Albert watches with envy and finally comes up with a phrase to contribute to the ceremony, "Ozzy is like a real live villain!" Uh, ok. Thank you Albert. Shouldn't you be in a corner doing your best Mr. Collins impression (name the book Mr. Collins comes from in the comments and you're a big weiner).

And this brings us to our second Tribal Council. Ozzy starts off the conversation by blaming that blasted puzzle piece. It was the puzzle piece's fault that he lost! And now it will torture and torment him for the rest of his life. Coach nods in understanding. He knows how it is to come so far and then fall short. Ozzy doesn't want to hear it though. All he wants to know is if Coach still plans on taking him to the finals - he promised him you know. Did you hear that Jury? Coach promised Ozzy to go to the finals.

It's the same old same old with Ozzy. All this hand waving and wild gesticulating for sympathy from the Jury. Dude, you already have their sympathy! Focus on the people who matter now - the people who have the power to take you to the end. You can't expect Coach to reward you with a vote for Albert if you keep throwing him under the bus like you're doing. Had Ozzy just been nice to Coach, had he just sucked it up for once and hidden his arrogance away... Had he done those things I might not be sitting in a punch bowl of glitter right now because OZZY IS THE 17TH PERSON VOTED OUT OF SURVIVOR SOUTH PACIFIC!!! *throws glitter in the air* I may have glitter in places where glitter doesn't exactly belong, but who cares?!? I can't wipe the smile on my face no matter how hard I try. Ding dong, Ozzy is gone!

Alright, let's just fast forward to the part we care about... the final Tribal Council. *thunderclaps in the distance* Or, what I like to call: The Airing Of The Grievances. A Festivus for the rest of us.

All of our ducks are lined up in a row and it's time for the opening remarks. Albert, please go first.

"Um so I'd umm like to say what a pleasure it is to know all of you beautiful people and might I say, you're all looking gorgeous today. This is the ultimate social experiment. It's a game about people. It's a game about me and it's a game about you. A higher power brought us all together. Thank you for being a part of my experience. Vote for Albert! Peace!"

Alrighty then, Sophie you're up.

"I'm just going to cut to the chase. A) I held my own in the challenges. B) I strategized well. C) I may not know who any of you are, but we've all become valuable friends. Therefore, according to the syllabus, I have fulfilled all of my Survivor requirements."

Coach, your turn...

"Gosh, I can't believe I'm here now next to this mystical fire under this magical night. I truly thought this game was made for Ozzy. Over the years, I've laughed, I've loved, I've cried, and I've grown. I'm not a perfect man, but I am a changed man. The first time I played this game I played with arrogance. This time I played with love. I opened myself up to you and now I carry you all deep within. *Dimples shifts uncomfortably on his log* Thank you for being inside of me."

Dimples turns the floor over to the Jury and Ozzy is up first. Hair like Pippi Longstocking, shirt unbuttoned just so. Ozzy sticks his neck out and says, "The good news is this game isn't decided. The bad news is no one wants to vote for you." Ozzy takes a deep breath and points a long and filthy (seriously, where has that thing been?) finger at Sophie, "You are a privileged selfish brat!" Next he turns to Albert, "You were in the right place at the right time!" Finally, he turns to Coach, "Coach, do you think you played honorably?" We all know what Ozzy wants to hear. Hell, even Coach knows what Ozzy wants to hear. Ozzy wants Coach to sit there and say he was dishonorable and... that's exactly what Coach does. He tried to play honorably, but when at the crossroads difficult decisions had to be made. Some went back on his word and others didn't. Hey, it was a good answer. It was honest and eloquent.

Mary Jane (Jim) is up next and he dead eyes weren't quite so dead anymore. He addresses Albert and asks him one simple question - Why shouldn't the Coach or Sophie win? The caveat is that he's not allowed to answer with a compliment. Albert replies, "Good question! Wow, I like the way you think." The Jury (and myself) erupts into a fit of giggles. I wanted Mary Jane to stop him right then and there because he totally broke the no compliment rule, but Mary Jane let him continue. Albert claims he carried Coach to the end while Sophie can't make friends to save her life. No offense Albie, but if you stopped to count your Survivor friends on your hands you might find that you only need one finger.

Candy-apple headed Dawn goes next and she wants to know why Sophie aligned with Coach and Albert. Sophie starts off by saying that she wishes she was man. I mean, I always thought she looked like a softball player, but I never thought she was full on Chaz. Sophie continues saying that the men in the game seem to always get young girls to follow them around. To her, Coach was like one of those young girls. Upon hearing this, Coach swings his sword out of his pocket and beheads young Sophie right then and there. Young girl indeed!

Rancher Rick goes and with a swing of his lasso, he catches Coach by the neck and yanks. With a gentle "Yeehaw" under his breath. He ties his lasso to a runaway horse and just watches as Coach's bony body hits the rocks and trees surrounding Tribal Council. Satisfied, Rick tips his hat to everyone and moseys back to his seat.

Brandon is up next. "God, let us pray, Jesus, God, holy spirit, hallowed be thy name." Coach, being fully able to speak "Brandon" at this point in time answers, "You should be sitting up here Brandon. Thank you for raising the bar of the game." Brandon replies, "Praise be to Jesus!"

Then he turns to Albert, "Did you know I was going to get voted out? Answer yes or no."
Albert: "Um well I..."
Brandon: "Answer yes or no."
Albert: "But I just wanted to say that I..."
Brandon: "I said ANSWER YES OR NO."
Albert: "I know, but can I..."
Brandon: "YES OR NO MOTHERFUCKER!!!"
Albert starts to cry.
Brandon lifts his shirt up to show Albert his new tattoo. It says, "AMSER YES OR NO!!!"
Albert sighs in defeat, "I don't know."
Brandon: "Thank you. Jets fo' life!"
And then he smacked his chest twice and ate an enchilada.

Whitney goes next and in between twirling her hair and making obscene finger gestures to Keanu (Keith), she hollers, "Albert yer sleazy!" She pops some gum and wrestles with a bubble while thinking of her next question. "Sophie yer conderscendin'!" That's it. That's all Whitney has to contribute. Thank you Whitney.

Tiny flitting dust particle Edna goes next and boy is she a breath of fresh air. It's Downy with Febreze! Edna schooled us all in that moment. She spoke of manipulation and history and religion and the vikings and the Romans. We learned about the Moors and the Ottoman Empire. She brought history to life and breathed common sense into this ridiculous game we all love. The gist of her dissertation is that people get duped. All of us. Me, you, them, they, everyone. We get duped yet that's life. And then a breeze blew in and she disappeared. I wondered to myself where that Edna was for the run of the game. I could learn to love that Edna. Fare thee well fairy sprite.

Keanu walked robotically up to the podium and this was his contribution, "Coach, why didn't you play the Idol?" Seriously? It's ok Coach, I got this. Because he didn't need to you freak! Keanu moves slowly back to his seat while Sophie shouts, "We faked how we found the Idol!" And that's when the tide turned for me. I hated her in that moment. I truly truly hated the desperation in her voice, the urgency of her plea. It was cowardly and tattletale-y all wrapped up in an undesirable ploy to win. To watch Brandon's reaction, I'm not even sure he understood what she was trying to say. All I know was that it wasn't a moment one can be proud of. The neediness of it was nauseating.

Last up we have Cochran, young Cochran. Cochran sees the game for what it is. He knows it's a cool move if you can trick people and Coach, indeed, tricked him. Cochran can't hate on that. He can only respect it. However, the word "honor" is where Cochran gets a little confused. The word was used so much this season that it's sort of lost its meaning at this point. Coach agrees and says he's tried hard to do the right things. But when you try and try and try not to screw up, what do you think happens? You screw up and you do the wrong things. Coach made a mess for himself that wasn't easy to get out of. He knows it, but, better yet, he can acknowledge it.

Solemn inspirational music plays in the background and we're whisked away to the live reunion. The votes are read and it's neck and neck between Coach and Sophie. "COACH, SOPHIE, COACH, SOPHIE, COACH, SOPHIE." I was sure Coach had this. I was positive! "SOPHIE, SOPHIE." Como what? "SOPHIE IS THE WINNER OF SURVIVOR SOUTH PACIFIC!!!"

Ugh. Does anyone know how to get glitter out of lady parts?

Well, ain't that a kick in the vag. I don't dislike Sophie per se, but I definitely didn't want her to win. I think since day one I've been rooting for Coach all along. He's a quirky eccentric guy who quotes obscure philosophers and probably collects daggers from the French aristocracy. I don't always agree with him and believe me, the God stuff makes me bonkers, but I like the guy. What can I say? Maybe I see a kindred spirit in him. Best of luck to you Coach. Might I suggest a collection of Tai Chi DVD's in your near future?

So that's that. Are you guys pleased with the outcome? Who were you rooting for? When you saw Sophie dance with her check did you die a little bit inside? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

If you've enjoyed what I've done this season, please click on my PayPal button and show a girl some love. Have a wonderful holiday season everyone and a happy new year. I'll see you back here the 2nd week of February for my first impressions of the new cast. My first Survivor One World blog will be posted February 16, 2012. Be sure to friend me on Facebook and follow me on Twitter for updates whenever I post on a new blog. Take care bitches!

The Pleasure Dome

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 14:31:00 +0000

Father God, oh Father God, I beseech you to guide and protect me through the act of writing this blog today. In Jesus' name I pray. Heavenly father, no offense or anything, but why are you such a camera whore? I mean, seriously. You created the heavens, you created the seas, you created the mountains, but that wasn't enough for you, was it? Now you have to poke your giant bearded head into all of my shows and wave your craggly finger around in all of our faces. Stop it, just stop it! You're probably like, "It's not my fault. Those Survivors keep paging me!" to which I say, "I guess you have a point", but still... Surely you're busy sometimes, right? I mean, you can't possibly be everywhere at once all the time or... can you? Ughhhh! Alright fine, whatever, you win. God - 1, Lala - 0 Let's recap, shall we?

Under the cover of night we begin the slow winding down of our South Pacific tale. The alliance of five created way back when on day one is now the last alliance standing. All five have survived and they're very pleased that they've accomplished exactly what it is they set out to do. With smiles on their faces and whoops filling the night sky, the final five link arms and dance under the stars. Pan pipes, tambourines, bongos... the whole shebang! Merriment personified. That is, until Lil Hantz remembers who is really responsible for all of this. With a megaphone in one hand and a crucifix in another, the short stocky balding man climbs up on a log, waves his arms frantically, and shouts, "Let's pray! Let's pray!" Ugh. Sophie rolls her eyes in the darkness and our remaining Survivors solemnly thank season 23's real star for getting them this far in the game. All seems peaceful on the outside. All appears soft and fluffy. But really there's a Judas under the surface. It's Albert. Blank faced, monotone voiced Albert who thinks he has this entire game wrapped up. His big plan this week is to get rid of Sophie. Well, if it's like any of Albert's other plans, Sophie will be just fine.

After a fitful night's sleep, a new day dawns and Albert is ready to put his "Get Sophie Out" plan into motion. The thing with Sophie is that she's dangerous. She wins Immunity Challenges, she's smart, and she's well spoken while Albert is kind of a bumbling figure in the background. While he's spending all of his time down in his lab surrounded by beakers and bubbling pots of colorful liquids trying to come up with various formulas to win, Sophie is actually mingling and becoming friends with the remaining Tunas. So, with a new formula in his pocket, shifty-eyed Albert approaches Rancher Rick and says, "Um so yeah I see the two of us going to the end together." Rancher Rick silently nods while Albert thinks to himself, "I've got this thing locked up!" You see, Albert thinks that Rancher Rick is the least dangerous in this game. He's not strategic, he's not winning, and he does little more than feed the cows day in and day out. In Albert's perfect world, he'd like to go the end with Rancher Rick and Coach. This self-proclaimed "rogue" (ok Sarah Palin) is under the impression that ass kissing for jury votes is actually aggressive game play. Maybe it is. *shrugs shoulders* Who am I to say? Maybe transparent weasel wear does indeed fool people. I have no idea. Maybe the emperor really was wearing new clothes.

And this brings us to the big duel between that decimal point, Edna, and god of the sea, Ozzy. For today's duel, Survivors will race to complete a slide puzzle. Once the puzzle is completed, it will release a hatchet. Survivors will then use the hatchet to chop a rope and release a bag of colored cubes. Once the duelers have their cubes, they must stack them so there are no repeating colors on any side. Survivors ready, go.

The duel begins with tiny-armed Edna struggling to push the puzzle pieces into place. With biceps the size of marbles, she moves at a snail's pace while Ozzy has already completed his puzzle and chopped down his rope. Edna giggles to herself as Ozzy tears into his bag of cubes and I can't for the life of me figure out what's so freaking funny. Even Dimples yells at her to focus.

And then, on cue, on time, like clockwork, Albert starts hollering tips to Edna from the stands. It took me a second, but then it finally hit me. He's helping for votes! In the past I always assumed that he really didn't want Ozzy to win, but now it's as clear as gin. Albert helping the losers on Rhode Island (Redemption Island) is his way of making a last minute favorable impression on them. I don't know if the other Tunas realize what he's doing, but they too begin shouting instructions to Edna and she's finally able to finish the puzzle and move on to the cubes.

With a seemingly huge lead, Ozzy has almost all of his cubes stacked. Cool as a cucumber, without a care in the world, Ozzy twirls his mustache and contemplates where to put his next cube. Meanwhile frantic laser point Edna is flitting around like a drunk fairy. She heaves the cubes up onto the table and inevitably that interminable Albert leaps to her aid. "Green! Green! Move the green one!" Then Sophie starts shouting, "You have too many blues!" Rancher Rick hiccups, "Howdy pard'ner" as Brandon bellows, "Pray on it!" It's a cacophony of craziness which, most likely, only serves to make Edna even more scattered.

With an entire row of reds, Edna shouts, "Jeff! Jeff! Check me!" Dimples does a 'Pfft!" with a flick of his wrist as Ozzy finally begins to feel the heat. We see it in a flash, a mere glimpse, but it was there. That unmistakable moment of panic across Ozzy's face where it dawns on him that he's not the unbeatable king of the world. It was only there for a second and we'll probably never see it again (which is why I freeze framed on it and threw glitter around the room for a good half hour), but I'll always have the memory of its existence. After the panic leaves and Edna gets rejected, Ozzy blazes forward and boom, bam, done... OZZY STAYS ALIVE! Grrr.

(For the record, I knew 100% that Ozzy would win. Despite the trickery promos and my dreams of an upset, Ozzy updated his Facebook last week with one simple sentence that pretty much spoiled the entire duel for me. He said, "Good luck Edna." Now, knowing what I know of Ozzy (that he's an arrogant dick), that was about as spoilery as spoilers get. It was the equivalent of pointing a finger and laughing at Edna for even trying to beat him. I demand the Survivor Council of Spoilers fine him eleventeenth million dollars and make it a law that he can never appear on the show again.)

Back at Tuna Tartare (TeTuna) the mood is bleak. Everyone is bummed and downtrodden. With heads down they kick the sand and sit in silence. The silence is finally broken when Lil Hantz creeps up to Albert and checks in on the strength of their alliance. Albert assures Brandon that their alliance is solid and that they'll both be going to the end with Coach. Wait a tic, hold up. Didn't Albert tell Rancher Rick that he wants to go to the final three with him too? Hmmm *strokes chin* I sure hope no one finds out. *giggles to self* With carefree arms swung limply behind his head, Albert whispers to Brandon that they need to get rid of Sophie next. Brandon nods excitedly and assures Albert that they'll totally be going to the end together. They've got God on their side! With an alliance partner like God, nothing can go wrong. *thunderclaps in the distance*

Meanwhile Sophie is lying supine in the shelter worrying about Ozzy. He's over in his Rhode Island Pleasure Dome fattening up all the losers before they skip on out of the game. Sophie worries that he's not only spreading his seed far and wide, but that he's gathering a few Jury votes along the way as well. She tells Coach that they have to send Brandon to Rhode Island next. A) Brandon is a loose cannon weirdo and B) Brandon actually might be able to beat Ozzy and take him out of the game once and for all. Sophie pitches her plan to Rancher Rick who then tips his hat and mutters, "Sure lil lady."

After a four hour nap, Albert rises and begins to put one of his many plans into motion. He approaches Coach and pleads with him to see how much of a threat Sophie is. Coach, however, knows what the real deal is - Albert is uncomfortable knowing that Sophie is smarter than him. She's not the quiet little mouse Albert thought she was and now Albert must destroy her. Through meditation, prayer, and shooting arrows at the sun, Coach is thinking and seeing more clearly than he ever has in his life. He knows what the dilly-o is. He knows the secret agendas burbling beneath the surface. Whether it's his Kundalini or his Katra, Coach is embracing his inner voice, his inner self, his inner calm. That inner Coach-ness is telling Coach that if they keep going the way they're going, Brandon will win this game hands down. Albert stammers in protest while Coach coolly chuckles to himself and says, "You don't understand how the Jury works. It's a totally different animal."

Speaking of animals, here comes Brandon. "What are you guys talking about? You talking about me? What are you planning? Did you make a new alliance? Honor, integrity, God!" Coach peers through hooded eyes and tells him they were talking about the Jury. Brandon lifts an eyebrow and says, "I don't think so sonny jim." Oh no he di-in't! Coach leaps up out of the hammock and grabs Brandon by his tattoos, 'Don't you bully me! Stop acting like Russell! Don't you know it's rude to interrupt people when they're talking?!" Brandon's lower lip starts to quiver as he says, "That wasn't very nice what you said about Russell." Coach collapses back into the hammock in the lotus position and reluctantly apologizes. Brandon hangs his head in shame and quietly says, "Please give me a hug man." Clearly, Brandon doesn't realize how hard it is to untangle oneself from the lotus. Regardless, Coach sighs dramatically and rises to give Brandon a hug. Brandon nestles his face in Coach's chest and whispers, "Sorry."

Coach steals away by himself, or so he thinks, to tell the camera (and us) once again how the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. No matter what Brandon does or says, he'll always have that Hantz blood in his veins. Meeting the young lad's father last week has only made Coach all the more certain of what his next move has to be. Then, out of nowhere, Brandon leaps out of a bush, "Peek a boo! Want some coconut?" Coach mimes vomiting and says, "I can't eat anymore fucking coconut." Brandon drops the coconut into the dirt as he curls up to Coach and whispers, "Cheer up brother. God has it all under control." He's a lost little lamb now, this Brandon. A meek and weirdo shell of the misogynist he used to be. I miss the squirrelly lustful Brandon of yesteryear. At least that Brandon had thoughts of his own - dirty, filthy, whoring thoughts filled with nipple clamps and ball gags, but thoughts nonetheless! This smaller, thinner, chaste thing we have before us now would happily follow Jim Jones into the afterlife. Christ, he'd be the one filling the cups for everyone and shooting the syringes into the kids mouths.

And that brings us to the Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! This week Survivors must climb a massive wall and collect bags of puzzle pieces. With each bag they'll go further up the wall. Once all the bags are gathered, the pieces will be sorted into pairs. The pieces that don't fit into a pair will reveal a number code that they will then use to unlock a box and raise their flag. First person to raise their flag wins Immunity. In addition to Immunity, players are also competing for a Reward of pizza and garlic bread. Survivors ready, go!

Brandon and Rancher Rick fly out of the gate and nab their first bags before anyone else even makes it up the wall. Sophie and Coach get their bags next with Albert lagging somewhere in the distance. Brandon, with feet like a spider monkey (or Satan) continues to dominate the challenge grabbing back after bag after bag. Rancher Rick manages to stay hot on his heels and I think we're all pleasantly surprised by our resident cowboy. Sophie and Coach manage to stay neck in neck with each other while Albert awesomely somersaults down the wall into a pile of bones on the sand.

Hunched over and with his low center of gravity, Brandon climbs higher and higher up the wall to retrieve his final bag. Miraculously, Rancher Rick is still in this as he too begins to work on his puzzle. Coach follows them in third, but Lil Hantz is on a Hantzian roll. The pattern of the pieces looked like a fetching tartan plaid to me, but it somehow managed to make sense to young Brandon as he quickly matches up the pairs and heads back to the top of the wall. Coach heads up the wall as well, but it's too little too late as BRANDON WINS IMMUNITY!!! Could it be that God is on Brandon's side after all? Wouldn't that be a kick in the vag?

After the appropriate 15 minutes of thanking Jesus for his win, Brandon ends his assault on the heavens with some gangsta taps to his heart and then a fist to the sky. I mean, I'm sure God listens to hip hop, right? Anyhow, Brandon is now forced to pick someone to eat pizza with him. I thought, without question, that Brandon would pick Coach. After the whole hammock fight, I figured he had a lot more sucking up to do, but no! He picks Rancher Rick to join him. He swears it wasn't a strategic decision, but honey, that was all strategy. Rick isn't in Brandon's final three alliance. That was an Albert move if ever I saw one.

Back at camp Sophie is musing over how the worst case scenario happened today. In a quick tete a tete with Coach, they agree, just as he's slithering into their area, that sneaky Albert needs to go next. Sophie rises as Albert sits and under the guise of wanting to smell the pizza, she steals away to go tell Brandon and Rancher Rick that Albert will be going home next. Rick throws his hat in the ring and agrees wholeheartedly. He tells Brandon and Sophie how earlier Albert approached him to make sure they were going to the end together. Listening to this, Brandon's ears start to blow steam and his head starts to turn purple. He yanks bite after bite off of the pizza crust and wonders to himself if he's been duped all along. Can it be true? Has Albert been making other deals behind his back? What about honor and integrity?!

Mid digestion, Brandon asks Albert if he went up to Rancher Rick and tried to make a deal yesterday. Albert stutters and stammers, "Umm uh I uh never uh turned against you." That right there should have been a big red flag to Brandon, but as Brandon is about as adept as reading people as Helen Keller would have been reading this here blog, Brandon drags Albert to the center of camp and defends him to both Rick and Sophie. Albert says, "Yeah! I never said nothing bad against Brandon." Rancher Rick shakes his head slowly back and forth and says, "Well now that's just not true. You told me yesterday you wanted to go to the end together." Albert points and cries, "Liar!" And then a 3 foot wooden nose grew out of his face. Rancher Rick throws his cowboy hat in the sand and says, "You lyin' out yer ass! Don't you lie to me!" *bites fist* Punch him, punch him!

Albert stutters some more and it finally dawns on Brandon that maybe his best good friend here isn't telling the truth after all. Brandon says, "You just told me you didn't make any other deals!" Albert replies, "Imma uh I um I... why is homina homina his word uh better than mine?!" Meanwhile Sophie is sitting on the sidelines giggling to herself much like I was giggling into my gin fizzy. I had bubbles up my nose and some drool on my shirt, but I didn't care! Finally that insufferable Albert is caught in his own web of lies. Awful though he may be, he's not dumb. He knows he has to somehow get Brandon back over on his side in order to maintain safety for tonight.

At home I laughed and I laughed. I thought to myself, "Good luck with that sucker!" and then I dipped my breasts one by one into my awaiting bowls of glitter. There is no way that Brandon will forgive someone for such deception, right? Right?!? Wrong. Never has a moral compass been so wonky. I can never find true north! And now I'm stuck at the nexus of the universe wondering which way is up and which way is down... with glittery ta ta's no less!

So while Brandon sits whittling either a pitchfork or a scythe out of a giant piece of driftwood, Albert begs Brandon not to close his heart to him. Oh puh-lease. But, you know what? Albert is totally speaking Brandon's language. That heart crap is right up his alley. But it's when Albert says, "You're making me look like a bad dude" that the deal is cemented. Brandon blurts out, "I'm not voting you. In fact, I'll give you my Immunity necklace." Then they collapse together in the sand to pray. *smacks self in head* Someone come over here and wash this glitter of my boobs. Scrub really hard because I don't want a trace of that shit left behind.

Brandon then goes marching over to Coach and tells him that God spoke to him and dropped some game advice on him... "Yo Brando! What's up buddy? Dude, you gots ta keep Albs in the game yo. And while you're at it, give him that necklace you got. Werd. Peace out." Rrrright. Brandon prays that Coach understands his decision and he knows that Coach would never vote him out, would never do anything to hurt him. Coach just sort of sighs and if there was a thought bubble above his head, it would read: ARE YOU SHITTIN' ME?

Brandon insists that this is what God wants them to do. Coach quickly corrects him and says, "No, this is what God wants you to do." Oh ho ho! I like that. Sneaky, sneaky. Coach says he'll need some time to pray to God himself and see what the ole guy upstairs has to say. "Uh, hello God?" A booming voice bellows, "Brandon! Brandon! Brandon!" "Ok cool, thanks." Coach looks up satisfied and says, "I know what I have to do now." And there you go. The power of prayer.

And this brings us to the latest episode of the Bellevue Diaries... I mean, Tribal Council. With no hesitation Brandon blurts out, "I want to give my Immunity Necklace up." Dimples' jaw hits the floor and Cochran starts giggling over on the Jury. Coach strokes his beard furiously as we hear the plop plop plop of Brandon's tears hitting the sand.

And this is where we finally find out about Brandon's checkered past. You see, he was in the Jets or the Sharks but when it came time for the big fight number no one showed up and he had perform a solo. It was embarrassing for the young lad. All of those finger snaps and leaps all by himself. He wasn't prepared for that. So, ever since then, he never dances alone anymore. And that's why he's loyal to a fault - to a giant stinking festering fault.

Dimples listens to all of this and says, "But Albert is your competitor!" Albert interjects with, "I've always believed that there was a higher purpose to this game." Oh. Shut. Up. Just sit there with your necklace and shut up.

Dimples then asks Albert if he'll take off the necklace right now for Brandon as a show of good faith, as proof of this "higher purpose". Albert frantically glue guns the necklace to his skin and says, "Uh I don't think God wants me to do that. I'll hang onto it." A pained look of defeat covers Brandon's face as he admits that he is no longer at peace with his decision. The struggle, the turmoil, within this kid is unreal. I still maintain that he was never medically sound enough to be on this show in the first place. I get what he's trying to do. I see that he really believes that he's doing the right thing. The problem is, along the way, he's getting taken advantage of. And when all of this is said and done, he'll emerge more damaged, more bitter, and more closed up than he was when the game started. So, we bid adieu to young Brandon as he is the 15th person voted out of Survivor South Pacific.

So, what did you guys think? Is Ozzy earning votes over on his Pleasure Dome? Did Coach totally fake talking to God? Will Brandon beat Ozzy in the duel? Who do you want to win Survivor South Pacific? Comment it out bitches and have a great day! If you've enjoyed what I've done this season, I ask that you please click on my PayPal link and show a girl some love. I'll meet you guys back here on Monday for my final blog of the season. See you then!

I Spit On A Million Dollars!

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 13:49:00 +0000

Dreams. Those fibrous threads we try to cling to in the night. Those highfalutin megamogul monstrosities we jot down in our visualization journals. Dreams give us purpose, something to grapple towards. Maybe it's a lover in a pirate shirt, maybe it's a job with six figures, or maybe, just maybe, it's to play the world's greatest game and became part of our pop culture lexicon. Whatever your dreams may be... stroke them, fondle them, nurture them and then pray to God that a giant uncircumcised penis doesn't come along and take them all down like Tokyo. Just as quickly as dreams can be dreamt, they can be crushed. Crushed like crackers, smooshed like spiders, flushed like goldfish. We are the music makers and we are the dreamers of dreams, but, you know, just be sure to hide your sheet music and dream catchers from sloth-footed monkey boys. Let's recap, shall we?

Through the jungle thick where the insects sing and the predators lie in wait, a gangly bespectacled lad approaches the gates that read "WELCOME TO RHODE ISLAND" (Redemption Island). All shoulders and concavity, our unlikely hero nudges a mass of sleeping curls and hiccups, "Hey Ozzy." With a swish and an eyebrow raise, the night air fills with "I told you so's". "Cochran, Cochran, Cochran," sighs Ozzy. "The only way to avenge this heinous act is to vote for me to win," he declares. Cochran smooths a wrinkle out of his sweater vest as he tries to hide the crimson anger creeping up over his cheeks. How dare Ozzy just assumes he'll lose the duel?! For all Ozzy knows the duel could be two middle aged women sitting in chairs waiting to be massaged. Pfft!

The next morning at Tuna Tartare (TeTuna), amidst the wandering flies and diminishing spirits, Rancher Rick is slow roasting a sock to perfection. They're out of food, the fish aren't biting, and sometimes, just sometimes, a Hanes will have to suffice. A dirty faced Lil Hantz looks on glassy eyed as he prepares the morning prayer. Once all of the "in Jesus' name we pray" have organized themselves just so, he calls his fellow brethren in to take part of what appears to be a daily ritual. Look, let's cut the crap, shall we? What if a Jew was on that tribe or *gasp* a Muslim or, let's say, a level-headed atheist who breaks out into hives when confronted with weirdly unabashed religious people? It's not the fact that these chuckleheads pray that makes my ass twitch, it's the fact that everyone else on that tribe is blindly going along with it. You can't tell me that Sophie, Albert, or even Rick prefaces every move they make in their lives with a goddamn prayer. If one day Sophie awoke and said, "You know what Brandon, today I prefer to pray alone." and then scurried off to meditate or do some sun salutations by herself. In the spirit of Christianity she'd be heave ho'd out of that tribe faster than a blink of an eye. Brandon wasn't requesting everyone come join prayer time. He was demanding it. Just once I'd like to see someone say, "You're not the boss of me!"

So Brandon summons the sheep and all come a'runnin' - all except Edna. Since Edna is number 6, she's suddenly lost her religion. Or, maybe she never had it in the first place and was just kissing ass to stay in the game. Who am I to say? Suited up in her sensible single-breasted blazer and hands firmly pushed in her pockets, tiny crumb Edna stands alone while the tears begin to fall. She feels duped. She feels like a second class citizen. Look Rosa Parks, you're not a second class citizen. Sit your ass firmly down in your bus seat and refuse to give up. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't there still an Immunity Challenge around the corner? Stop assuming you're going home. Stop expecting others to carry you to the end. Fight to win and secure yourself your own spot in the final three. Survivor is deception or... at least it used to be back when it was good. Nonetheless! This isn't a handholding game to the million. Now go nibble on a coffee bean and find whatever miniscule spark it is that you have within you to fight. Tree Mail! Harness your chi. Visualize a positive outcome. Hey guys, tree mail! Tony Robbins once said, "Beliefs have the power to create..." GUYS, I SAID TREE MAIL!!!

Oops. Sorry Edna. We have to cut this short. Uh, good luck and don't let the man get you down or whatever. It's Sprint family phone time!

The tribe pushes dust particle Edna into the ground where she gets lost in a pile of leaves and rush to surround the new Sprint phone. As I am not on Sprint's payroll, that's the last you'll hear about them from me. With a few pushes of some buttons, we see glimpses of Rancher Rick's cowgirl, Edna's nano-sister, Sophie's dad, Albert's mom, Coach's brother, and Brandon's father. We'll see more of these strangers later, but, for now, it's time to duel.

It's a duel of opposites. On one side we have sexually potent Ozzy who's impregnated every crab from here to Seoul and on the other side we have a spindly fop who's probably allergic to wheat. For today's duel, Survivors will use grappling hooks to retrieve three bags. Each bag contains a ball and when all the bags have been retrieved, you'll use one of those balls to solve a table maze. The winner stays alive while the loser is out of the game for good. Survivors ready, go.

The challenge begins as Cochran grapples his own foot and dangerously wraps the rope around his own neck. Meanwhile, Ozzy throws with precision and starts reeling in bag after bag after bag. Sensing Cochran's struggle, Albert shouts pointers from the rafters and our ginger underdog begins to make some headway. Nails in mouth and straw in gin, I watched with bated breath as Ozzy used his sizable lead to slowly maneuver his ball through the table maze.

Not so fast Sperminator! What's this? It's Cochran and he's all caught up! He hurls his ball into the table and with some herky jerky shoulder dips, slides that bitch on through towards the final hole. *peers through hands* Ozzy's heart begins to beat a little faster as it dawns on him just how embarrassing it'll be to lose to a string bean like Cochran. Maybe it was pressure or self doubt, but Ozzy's ball falls to the ground and now he has to start over. *throws glitter in the air*

Cochran, perhaps filled with an overwhelming sense of relief and anxiety, also fumbles his ball and it's back to the start for him too. *clutches pearls* The tunas are freaking out, my gin is almost gone, and it's a matter of millimeters separating these two men. Millimeters, people! Cochran has no time to waste as he swings his table maze back and forth, back and forth. He's at the end, the ball is there... just one gentle little nudglet in and... PLOP! The ball, like so many other things in life, fall into the wrong hole and *UGH!* OZZY STAYS ALIVE!!!

Still, with the excitement and the experience coursing through his veins, Cochran is thrilled to have just been there. He got to hear Dimples say "Come on in guys!" and he was actually one of those "guys". I get it. I get the majesty of it all. I, too, would tinkle a little if Dimples ever said, "Lala dominated that challenge!" (Let's face it, that's totally what he'd say to me while he draped a necklace of hermit crab shells around my neck as I won Individual Immunity for the 6th straight time.) So despite the mistakes, the hiccups, and the loss, Cochran is grateful and psyched that he got to live out his dream. He came into this game awkward and unsure of himself and now he's leaving it still awkward, but filled with a little thing called pride. The pride of a man who did what so many people probably told him he couldn't do. Enjoy it Cochran for now you enter the world of reality groupies. They have faces like muffins and more cats than any one person should ever own, but they're out there. Godspeed.

We bid adieu to Cochran, but we say hello to blood. Blood relatives, that is! First up is Sophie's dad, Thurston. Thurston! Sophie embraces him and then firmly tells him that she wants fresh made banana bread. Well, I want gin flavored lip gloss, but we can't all get what we want now, can we? Edna's sister Debbie sprinkles in next and seems alarmed by the Edna before her. Maybe it was that "SECOND CLASS CITIZEN" sign Edna hand stitched onto her button down shirt. *shrugs shoulders* Then we meet the fabled Pete Wade. I don't know why he's fabled, but Dimples seems shocked that Coach actually has human kin. Maybe, like me, he expected a knight or ninja to come riding in on a horse. Next up is Katie, Rancher Rick's wife. *dims the lights and puts on some Barry White* Bowm chicka wow wow. Rancher Rick embraces his cowgirl and begins to knead that ass! Squish, squish. Right up the crack. Right in there. Save that diddle for later cowboy. Albert's mom Annie trots in next and *yawn*. Whatev. She unfortunately got sandwiched between an ass grab and a freak show. Luck of the draw I guess. Finally, we have Shawn, Russell Hantz's brother and father to the weirdo kid we've gotten to know over that past 85 weeks. They cry and embrace in silence and it's odd. Very very odd. Question marks popped up all over the place as I tried to imagine how many pickles Shawn has gotten Brandon out of, how many dead bodies are buried on the outskirts of their land, how many babies have their college tuitions already paid for...

Now Ozzy has a big decision to make. He gets to choose three Tunas to spend time with their loved ones. Ozzy goes ahead and chooses Albert, Coach, and Brandon. Are they going to circle Samoa on a yacht? Do they get to enjoy a feast at the base of a waterfall? No. They get to go with Ozzy back to Rhode Island. What?!? Why? First off, that just flat out sucks as a Reward. Secondly, why is Ozzy involved at all? Why does he get to hang out with the Tunas? It's unfair and possibly game changing. I don't like it one bit.

Of course my suspicions were right. I can smell a lie like a fart in a car just like I can sense when something hinky is afoot. Once at Rhode Island, Coach wastes little time ushering Ozzy into the shelter where he tells him that the two of them plus one more would be the perfect final three. He cements the deal with an "As a Christian man...". Apparently, if you encounter Coach in a back alley wielding a sword, wearing a Zorro mask, and he says to you, "As a Christian man I'll only pillage a smidgen of your village", you can totally trust him. Personally, I think it's too dangerous to take Ozzy to the end, but Coach has the warrior spirit whereas my spirit is one you might find in a bottle. If he's going to win this game, he wants to win against the best. I, however, would take Edna and then resurrect the poet laureate Semhar and make her haiku muttering ass sit next to me at the end. Who cares how you win a million just as long as you win it!

So while Coach was busy making warrior deals, young Brandon was regaling his father with tales of how his Christian ways will impact the entire Survivor viewing public. "Daddy, I'm telling you, Imma gonna change the way people think about the world. I spit on a million dollars!" The color slowly drains from Shawn's face as he asks, "Then what are you here for?" Whacko Brando replies, "I'm here to set an example for Christ bro." To set an example for Christ. Christ, that ne'er-do-well who goes cow tipping at night, steals from his parents change drawer, and thinks lascivious thoughts about half naked women. Yes, if anyone in the world needs a lesson on morality, it's that troublemaker Christ. To look at Shawn while he was listening to the mad rantings of his lunatic son was to watch the mental wheels spin, the brainy cogs and pistons pumping and lubing (or whatever it is they do) into action.

With Brandon fancy free and leaping with the Lord, Shawn sighs to himself and knows what he has to do. He's done it before. Oh, so many times before. When that Mathlete was found behind the gym with a black eye and his underwear over his head, when the choir girl had her maidenhead stolen away after the Christmas pageant, and when the neighbors Yorkie turned up pawless that one time... Shawn did what any dad would do. He greased some palms, kept it out of the court system, and shipped Brandon off to yet another high school.

But here, out on an island in the South Pacific, there are no other high schools! This is it. Not only is Brandon wasting the opportunity of a lifetime, but now he's a Calvinist to boot! "Everything is predestined, " he assures his father. Knowing his time is running out, Shawn kicks it into high gear and does what no other family member has done to date - he plays the game. Sensing that Coach is in somewhat of a leadership position, Shawn pushes and cajoles for him to take Brandon to the final three. Under the guise of handshake, he slips some twenties into Coach's hand and gives him a look that says, "There's more where that came from." What Shawn doesn't realize is that this isn't Coach's language. Something should have been dipped in blood and a sword definitely should have been involved, but a fistful of sweaty greasy money just reads as icky to Coach. Now, had Shawn brought some papyrus, some Sun Tzu, or maybe Tai Chi'd with Coach in the sunlight, a legitimate deal could have been made. Instead, Coach just felt a little dirty all over and then laughed to himself as he realized that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all.

And now we arrive at the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge Survivors must keep moving across a giant puzzle board. When you land on a puzzle piece, you flip it over, and then it's out of play. When you're stuck with nowhere to go, you're out of the game. Survivors ready, go!

The challenge begins with a metaphor - Dimples making a Coach-like metaphor about how the decisions you make early on in this here little challenge can effect the outcome of the game - like in Survivor! Tada! Dimples receives a nod of approval from the dragon slayer himself. Those nods aren't easy to get I'll have you know so when you get one, wrap it up and save it for later. I, myself, have received a nod from Coach and that little love nugget is sitting in a hand carved mahogany box under my bed, but I digress. For the most part, the challenge is uneventful. Flip, flip, flip go the pieces. Yellow to purple. Buh bye Albert. So long Rick. Later Sophie. It's a civil display of sportsmanship until, of course, Brandon gets knocked out and then whispers with the softness of a jackhammer, "DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE? I WAS TRYING TO GET EDNA OUT!!! WE CAN CONTINUE WITH OUR PLAN TO SEND HER HOME CUZ THAT'S WHAT JESUS WOULD DO."

Through stutters and hands like crinkly tissue paper, Edna talks about missing some beach meeting early on in the game and how that's the reason she's where she is in the grand scheme of schemes. *vomits* Oh, excuse me. Did I get any on you? Edna, doll, stop blaming everyone else for your lot in life. Get your head in the game, win, and then you have nothing to worry about. In case you haven't noticed - this challenge was built for you... YOU! Nothing heavy to be lifted, no races to be won, no hills to climb. Just step here and here and here. Why, it's almost as if the challenges were shuffled with YOU in mind. *sigh* With tiny fists of anger and little poots of steam burping out of her ears, Edna's agitation was too much for her to bear and COACH WINS IMMUNITY!!!

Back at Tuna Tartare, Edna goes back to doing what Edna does best - being everyone's water bitch - like that will save her now. She toils and boils and filters and bottles. Frantic and shaky, she quenches the tribe's thirst while they all sit and glower in Brandon's direction for being such a dick back at the challenge. Rancher Rick shakes his head with disapproval and we begin to get an idea of exactly where his moral compass lies. Ass caressing - A Okay! Kicking a defenseless puppy dog - bad news bears. I agree Rancher Rick. A little ass caressing never hurt nobody.

Perhaps getting a sense that his tribe is less than pleased with him, Brandon apologizes to Edna and hopes that she appreciates how transparent he is. Like that makes it all better. It doesn't work like that Brandon! Apologies don't absolve you of your sins. Edna equates it to cheating on your wife and then buying her a diamond necklace to make it all better. I see her point, but what if the diamonds are like really really really big? Never mind. So Edna isn't buying what Brandon is serving and instead she uses his cockamamie logic against him. She marches right up to Coach and tells him that the honor and integrity he preaches day in and day out cannot be found in one, Mr. Brandon Hantz. Finally! See, this is what I wanted Edna to do all along. Like Cochran, she doesn't have strength on her side, but she has logic. The only problem is she spent a little too long wallowing around in all that self pity when she should have been planning her attack. Waiting until the 11th hour is cutting it a smidge close.

Coach is intrigued by everything Edna has to say, but for some reason the fear is that Brandon will go to Rhode Island and beat Ozzy. Really? That's the fear. Weird. So Edna continues her "Brandon Sucks" bar tour and now she makes her appeal to Albert and Sophie. She's making all of her bullet points, she's heavy handed with the "honor and integrity" arguments, cites Mikayla as a victim of Brandon's lunacy, and even offers to eat a piece of poo if she has to. That last little nugget aside (nugget, ha!), I get what Edna is saying. The honor and integrity thing is a farce at this point. Being chained to a loose cannon just because weeks ago you promised to be loyal isn't honor or integrity. It's bitchassness is what it is. Honor and integrity would be to dump his ass and get him into Bellevue the second they have a bed available. A little Depakote/Thorazine cocktail never hurt anyone... much. In the end, Coach advises Edna to go to Tribal Council and see if her arguments have influenced anyone. "Wait and see" is risky, but what else can she do?

And that brings us to Tribal Council. Immediately, Edna launches into the problems with Impala's (Upolu) mantra. You can't have honor, loyal, and integrity with a court jester like Brandon running around pointing at girl's boobies and humiliating harmless wispy women for no good reason at all. Brandon listens with heavy eyelids and says that Edna has probably misconstrued everything he's ever done and said in this game. Dimples bursts out laughing, throws a rotten tomato at Brandon's head, and then pulls out a flow chart outlining all the times that Brandon has lied, humiliated, and weaseled his way through this game. Again, Brandon apologizes. That's all he needs to do you know.

"I'm sorry."
*doves fly overhead*

Sophie declares that today is the day loyalty ends and I was sort of pumped for an upset, but it wasn't to be. Edna is the 14th person voted out of Survivor South Pacific. So, what did you guys think of last night's episode? Who will be number 5? Will Edna beat Ozzy in the duel? Can Coach win against Ozzy in the final three? How badly do you think Rancher Rick's wife's ass is bruised? Comment it out bitches and have a great day! If you've enjoyed what I've done here this season, I ask that you please click on my PayPal button and show a bitch a little love.

I Really Want To Trade Sperm With You

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 13:45:00 +0000

There's a delicate balance that wrestles with itself in the mind of a genius. An internal struggle. An eternal struggle. The tug and pull between insecurity and arrogance. By definition, the two couldn't be more different, but when they exist in tandem the world just got a little bit more interesting. Ugly and pretty at the same time, you can't take your eyes off of a person sparring within. One minute they can conquer the world. The next they're crumpled in a corner dodging prying eyes. Marilyn Monroe had it. Tortured writers have it. "Am I worthy?", they ask. "I am!", they reply. "Wait, are you sure?, they ask again. Teeter totter, teeter totter, up and down, back and forth, the audience at Wimbledon. Highfalutin to self deprecating in a nanosecond. From a distance it's all very charming, but up close, sharing the same quarters, it can get a smidge exhausting. Crazy is only fun when you don't have to touch it, when you can poke at it with a pole and watch it squirm from a safe distance. Sharing a bed with it is another story entirely. Will he kill you in your sleep or want to trade sperm with you? No one knows, but maybe we can try and find out. Let's recap, shall we?

We continue our fetid tale under the cloak of night. Our peaceful leader Coach is glad those Savannah (Savai'i) ne'er-do-well's are finally gone. Good for nothing troublemakers born into the wrong tribe. Now, it's just the family... and their adopted child Oliver... left. The Brady's may have had good intentions, but Oliver never fit in. Too many syllables, too much effort. So while it's more homey now and the guest linens and towels can be put away, the adopted one knows he's still in precarious waters. There are families and then there are families. *thunderclap* The Waltons were a family, the Cleavers were a family, but the Manson Clan was a family. *thunderclap* Oh sure, Squeaky and Sadie and Patricia and Leslie like to sit around the campfire singing folk songs while making technicolor trails with their fingers, but they also like to kill and smear blood on the walls. Cochran knows this. He knows it's only a matter of time before he and his unborn child are caught in the crossfire of a phony race war. What is a spindly bespectacled lad to do? Tell uncomfortable tales of yesteryear, that's what!

It's not like he can fish and it's not like he can shoot one of his imaginary arrows into a woodland creature for dinner. Instead, Cochran will use his powers of gab to climb a little further up the family ladder. With the six chosen ones gathered in a circle, Cochran regales them with tales of crank calls and ding dong ditching. 5th grade was a banner year for the freckled fop. His hormones were kicking into gear and gentle stirrings of he-didn't-know-what began to tickle his nether regions. All he knew of sex at the time were those cross section drawings labelled in Latin and what's fun about that? Nothing! What is fun though is calling schoolmates on the phone and whispering, "I really want to trade sperm with you." Trade sperm? Trade. I'll give you mine if you give me yours. Ah, youth! Reliable farmhand Sophie listens from the sidelines and it makes perfect sense to her how the Savannahs might not have cared for Cochran's company. There's that underlying odor of trying too hard. He's trying to delight, he's trying to charm, but it's coming off a little creepy and weird. She takes her frustrations out on a piece of wood and hacks that bitch to death. See? I told you the family can kill.

I don't know if it was the flying wood chips or Brandon crouched in a corner furiously praying for all of the sex talk to go away, but Cochran decides to call a tribe meeting using the immortal words of one Mr. Dimples. "Come on in guys!", he hiccups. I don't know what the hell Cochran was thinking, but his seratonin levels were clearly on an upswing as he tells the Impalas (Upolu) how, without him, they'd be nothing. Plus, it's his birthday in a few days. So, pretty please keep him in the game for just one more week. Sophie snorts to herself and decides that she doesn't owe Cochran bupkis. It's his own fault he defected from Savannah. Albert, however, thinks Cochran is making a valid point. Of course Albert thinks it's a valid point! Albert's modus operandi from day one has been to get Edna out of the game. The only problem is he's never managed to do it himself. Full of ideas but never solutions, Albert wonders if maybe keeping Cochran is the way to go. In Albert's mind, Cochran will never win this game and since Edna probably won't vote for Albert anyways, why not keep Cochran around for a little longer? Here's the thing: Albert has one thing on his mind and one thing only - stacking that Jury with votes for himself. The only problem is that when you put all of your attention on the Jury, the game right in front of you, the one in your lap, blurs and becomes an afterthought. Plus, Albert is about as stealthy and covert as Phillip Sheppard.

This brings us to the big duel. We have candy apple headed Dawn, married lady Whitney, and the interminable Ozzy. Who the hell do we root for? For today's duel, Survivors will balance ceramic dishes on the end of a long wobbling arm. The more dishes you stack, the more difficult it is to keep stable. When you're dishes fall, you're out of the game for good and you join the freaky freakies over on the Jury. Last person standing stays alive. Survivors ready, go.

With tight lips and a furrowed brow, Ozzy places plate after plate with the gentle touch of a sniper. Meanwhile Dawn, tired from all that sexy time with Ozzy the night before, yawns and jostles her pole. I don't know exactly what Ozzy did to our soccer mom (anal), but her wobbly legs couldn't withstand the weight of all those plates. With a loud "Motherfucker!" (they blurred her mouth so I can only assume that this is what the Mormon shouted), Dawn is out of the game. Shortly thereafter, with a lick of her lips and her nerves all a jumble over her pending divorce, Whitney too drops her plates. OZZY STAYS ALIVE!

Before leaving, Dawn farts out some tears and applauds for herself. Now her weirdo Mormon children with glassy eyes and plastic smiles will have the courage to make pipe bombs. At least that's what I think she said. Who knows. I was distracted by the fact that her no nonsense haircut now weighs more than she does. It was Whitney's turn next and she twanged out something about something, but do we really care? Nope. That leaves us with Ozzy. Ugh. "I'm excited to go into the duels and beat my enemies. This is what I do best. I'm getting stronger everyday. Look at me up here perched in this tree. This is how I'm going to win the game." *clicks rifle* Bang!

Back at Tuna Tartare (TeTuna), feather sprite Edna is getting ready to do some laundry in a bucket. She asks everyone if they'd like her to boil their soiled underthings, but Albert just rolls his eyes and says, "Survivor isn't outclean." No, you're right about that Albie. It's also not outsleep, outrest, outnap, or outdouche. Very satisfied with himself for coming up with "outclean", Albert collapses back into his hammock and says they should leave the housework to Martha Stewart. But Martha Stewart isn't a member of this tribe, Albert. She busy counting her billions in one of her many houses in between sipping cucumber water, planting Cyrtochilum Monachicum, deboning a duck, and spinning freshly shorn alpaca yarn. I'm not sure what it is that Edna did to anger Albert so, but picking on her for doing a necessary daily chore seems a little trite. I understand you're angry that she's made it this far, but, I don't know, why not do something about it rather than sneering like a disgruntled 13 year old girl?

Perhaps Albert heeded my advice or perhaps he got bored counting up all his votes because out of nowhere he rises from his slumber and hijacks Edna's laundry. With a pfft and a scoff he takes the laundry stick and vows to stir better than that dust particle Edna can stir. Albert will stir with force. He'll stir with purpose. He'll show this tribe once and for all that Edna is expendable. With one hand on his hip, Albert pokes and prods at the bubbling linens. Poke, poke, jab, jab. Splash! *sigh* He poked the linens, the bucket, and the giant vat of scalding hot water all over the entire campfire. The fire! Fire represents life you know. After a quick scan for onlookers, Albert gingerly drops the stirring stick and slowly tiptoes away. It's not his fault if the water leaped out of the bucket on it's own accord. It's that Edna's fault for doing laundry in the first place.

Edna returns to camp to find the embers sopping wet and her laundry lying in the dirt. A tiny little spark went off above her head in that moment and then with a gentle breeze it was gone. You might have missed it if you weren't watching closely enough, but that was Edna getting angry. Coach remarks that Albert probably hasn't done a drop of work in his entire life when, all of a sudden, Rancher Rick moseys on over and says one word. Just one single solitary word. One perfectly shaped word. Precious. Rancher Rick thinks that Albert is precious. In fact, all this time Rick has silently referred to Albert as Prince Albert. Don't get your hopes up because I doubt Rancher Rick was referring to the piercing, but it's charming, no? I had no idea Rick thought anything about anything! It turns out that our grizzly cowboy doesn't think much at all of that lazy Albert. Join the club.

Just when we were finally getting to know Rancher Rick a little bit, he rides off into the sunset and we're left with Edna in a frantic state. Like a fly trapped indoors, she buzzes this way and thataway trying to find someone to set her free. Maybe Coach can be that someone. She asks him point blank if she's going home after Cochran. Coach solemnly replies in the affirmative. Edna demands to know why and Coach says that it's simply time for people to go. A teepee, a woven blanket, and a long pipe would have apropos accountrements for this scene. He wasn't just "Coach" in that moment. He was Chief Coach. Once Edna finally floated away, Chief Coach wonders if perhaps there's a way to keep both Edna and Cochran. Neither will vote him out. This is definitely something that needs to be thought about a little more. Perhaps a walk with his spirit guides will provide some clarity. *packs peyote into pipe*

And now we arrive at the Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge, Survivors will toss sand bags. The first three people to land three sand bags will move onto round two where they'll use a giant sling to fire coconuts at targets. The first person to knock down all of their targets with the coconuts wins Immunity and a spa day complete with a shower and a massage. To hear Dimples go on and on about all the essential oils and "working out the kinks", I wondered to myself if perhaps this massage didn't come with a happy ending. Visit any massage parlor in Samoa and I guarantee you'll find a standing biweekly appointment for a "Dimples". Survivors ready, go!

Let me just start this by saying that I hate the phase 1 and phase 2 competitions. Too many good people get knocked out for not doing something stupid quickly enough and then we're left with one or more undesirables in the running to win. I want endurance. I want dangerous obstacle courses. Swimming, running, jumping, leaping, drowning... that's what I want. How the hell am I supposed to cleverly recap, "Coach tosses a bag, Sophie tosses a bag, Brandon tosses a bag." Toss, toss, toss, burble, burble. Sophie, Prince Albert, and Rancher Rick will move onto round two.

Prince Albert and Rancher Rick quickly get into the groove and begin to connect with their targets while Sophie narrowly swipes Dimples' hat off his head. All shoulders and thighs, Sophie chokes and it's clear that she has no chance of winning the challenge. Prince Albert and Rancher Rick stay neck in neck until the very end and I hoped against hope that our man of a few words would finally pull out a win. Alas, it was to no avail as ALBERT WINS IMMUNITY.

Chest puffed up, Albert feels very proud of himself. He gets to pick someone to join him on the massage and after a speech about loving everyone in his family and grand sweeping gestures hither and thither, Albert picks Coach to join him. Not so fast though sonny jim. Albert then asks Dimples if he can take one more person with him. Dimples curtly tells him no. While erecting a cross and preparing to climb up on it, Albert asks if perhaps he can give his massage to someone else. While waiting for an answer, he pulls a crown of thorns out of his back pocket and places it atop his own head. Dimples looks at him sideways and decides to let him give away his reward if he wants. Albert kicks the sand and makes a big production of hemming and hawing. "Aw shucks. If one of you can maybe give a starving selfless soul some food next time for me to give to the poor, I'd greatly appreciate it. I choose to give my reward to Cochran because not only am I buying his vote, but it's his birthday in a few days." Cochran stares at the piece of tracing paper, Albert, and says he's only ever massaged his mother before. Dimples and I giggled in unison and while that was all funny and good, I was more interested in the limp noodle of kissassness before us now. This gummy bear in a sea of jawbreakers. We see you Albert. We get what you're doing and SO DOES EVERYONE ELSE!

After a spa day where untouched places were finally touched, where the water was scented with jasmine, and where a birthday boy is not really a birthday boy, Cochran pulls Albert aside to thank him for the massage. Albert clutches his pearls and tells Cochran it's no never mind. Sure, he's going home next and Albert would like his vote on the Jury, but don't be silly and go making a big to-do about the selfless generosity bursting forth from his heart. Cochran again stares through the loin cloth, the basket of Easter eggs, and the Birkenstocks to say, "Oh and by the way, Rancher Rick calls you Princess Albert. Take care." Ha! Albert's face twists up into a mushy pretzel and only when he catches himself does he reply, "I'm thrilled he's calling me Princess. Rick is as sharp as a bowling ball." Some bowling balls are very sharp I'll have you know. Back in the medieval days, bowling balls could kill. Take heed, Princess.

Cochran knows what he has to do now. He has to use the Princess thing against Rick and try to save himself. First, he approaches Edna. He tells her how he told Albert about Rick calling him Princess. In response, Edna twirls on her toothpick legs and eats that shit up. This is the moment she's been waiting for. The moment where she can stop being number six. She tells Cochran that they need to talk to Coach as soon as possible. They find him strolling in the open air clad in a fuchsia and white lei. His skin is clean and his hair is freshly rubber banded. Serenity is written all over his face until Cochran blurts out, "I told Albert that Rick calls him Princess!" Coach inhales deeply and crosses his arms at his waist. Not a word is spoken. Not an eyelash flutters. He stands in stoic silence with a blank look on his face. How he proceeds in this very moment will determine the rest of the game. Shakespeare said something about a tide coming in the lives of man. If you take it, you get fortune cookies. If you don't take it, you'll end up in that movie Misery. I might be paraphrasing a little. Give me a break, I'm working without a DVR today. So, the big question is whether or not Coach wants his legs hobbled. We'll see.

This brings us to Tribal Council. Coach is surprisingly candid in saying that the possibilities for tonight's vote are endless. A new scenario seems to present itself every hour. Cochran chimes in and admits to being part of the scrambling. It's the charmingly neurotic Cochran at first. He smiles crookedly as he admits that the Jury will be thrilled to hear that he's the target tonight. But then, in a flinch, he sits up a little straighter and pronounces, "I breathed new life into this game." *smacks self in head*

Sensing that Cochran was hogging up all the air time, Albert mumbles something or other that had nothing to do with anything. Coach interrupts and praises Cochran's courage. Over on the Jury, Mary Jane's (Jim) eyes promptly get stuck into the top of his skull and he falls over the log he was sitting on. Keanu's (Keith) robot parts started sputtering and Whitney began throwing wedding rings at the remaining Tunas. Lots of anger on that Jury! Awesome.

Through the crackling fire and the seething Jury, we hear a tiny whimper. It's Edna and she's crying. We don't know why she's crying, but if she's not careful she'll drown herself with her own tears. It turns out that Edna is sad that she's number six. There's an easy way to remedy that Edna - WIN AN IMMUNITY CHALLENGE. There you go. Problem solved.

And then, while Edna is busy wiping her face with a postage stamp, Brandon jumps to his feet and says that no matter what he's voting Cochran out tonight and next time he's voting out Edna. It's all black and white! There's no grey! After his declaration of certainty, young Brandon collapses into a ball on the floor and begins to cradle his own head. At first we couldn't tell if he was suffering from a migraine, adjusting a barrette, or what. It turns out that he's in the full blown throes of sin. It has him. It's running through his veins and invading his soul. He wants to do wrong things! He's human, but something stronger lives inside of him. (see above photo) The tears begin to fall and it's very clear to everyone that something is seriously wrong with this kid.

Dimples pretty much points at Brandon and laughs while Cochran, with nothing to lose, says that talking to Brandon about strategy is like telling him that Dimples' shirt isn't blue. The fact that there isn't a blue in the world bluer than Dimples' shirt last night makes the comment all the more amusing. It's so blue that it makes regular blue blush. Royal blue is ashamed to be in a room with that shinier dimplier blue. Albert & Sophie jump in and agree that Brandon is the absolute worst person to talk strategy with. I checked in on Brandon to make sure his face was still attached and from what I can tell he hadn't torn it off yet. As a matter of fact, he sort of seemed fine with everything. Maybe he didn't quite grasp what was unfolding before him.

Well, let's not worry about that now. We have bigger matters to tend to... it is with great sadness that Cochran is the 13th person voted out of Survivor South Pacific. I'm a little bummed about this one because even though I pick on him a little, I actually like the guy. He lasted much longer than he should of and his shenanigans were always entertaining to watch. So, what do you guys think? Are you sad Cochran is gone? Does he have any chance whatsoever of beating Ozzy? Will Brandon murder the tribe as they sleep? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

If I Were That Angel

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 13:36:00 +0000

Messengers of God, heavenly beings from beyond; Angels are everywhere. They whisper in our ears, they flicker the bedroom lights off and on, and, occasionally, they threaten to shake up reality shows like a snowglobe. Whether on Ghost Hunters or in that familiar butterfly fluttering near your window, Angels are a crafty bunch - but then again, winged creatures have always been up to no good. Just look at Talos, the giant winged man of bronze delivered from Zeus to protect Europa and the island of Crete. On the surface he sounds like a man of the people, a protector of society, but if pissed off he'll hurl giant boulders into the sea and giggle at the splashes they make. Or let's look to our fairy friends - delicate and graceful, exquisite and playful. You might be able to smoosh them with your thumb, but those little scamps will hide your car keys and steal your pharmaceuticals in the blink of an eye. Junkies, the whole lot of 'em! In my vast and extensive research of all things mythological, I have never come across a bespectacled gangly fop masking himself as an angel. What would we call this creature? Gingerellus? Freckelopia? Perhaps delving deeper into this prankster's psyche will provide a clearer more accurate picture of what exactly we're dealing with here. Let's recap, shall we?

In the thick of night with the gentle buzz of the insect people to keep us company, a dead-eyed goofy grinned man with pockets full of poker chips and the finest sativa arrives on Rhode Island (Redemption Island). "I thought we were supposed to be the final 3", he smirks. You see, "final 3" was the heart of the 3+2 x the circumference of a coconut shell divided by pi minus the square root of the number of teeth in Mary Jane's (Jim) mouth plan. The plan was fool proof (proof that fools exist). It should have worked! With one hand down his pants and the other fondling his own tendrils, Ozzy sighs and burbles, "I hate to say I told you so." Well, clearly you don't hate it enough not to say it. Douche of the D'ouchervilles. Meanwhile, Keanu (Keith) is sitting stiff-necked and straight-backed saying nothing to no one and having no bearing on anything anywhere. Too bad the insects kept up their nocturnal opera. I'll bet in the blackest depths of silence with nothing but Keanu sitting in a corner, we'd be able to hear the gentle clicking of his robot parts. I'm not just talking about a pacemaker here. I'm talking about intricate wires and metal thingamabobs working in tandem to keep this "man" a functioning being. If Pinocchio, Edward Scissorhands, and that creepy pieced together baby on American Horror Story had a hot threesome and produced a child, it would be Keanu - only without the eccentric personalities of his three fathers. Charmless, witless, dull. *sputter sputter kerplunk*

Over at Tuna Tartare (Te Tuna), with hands pressed firmly together in a namaste, Coach tells the remaining Tunas how Mary Jane is the most dangerous type of person. He may look welcoming and accommodating on the outside, but when you stare into his dead black eyes, all you see is a swirling abyss of Jacks, Aces, and one-hitters. A man like that will peek at your cards and bogart that can, man. It's best that he's out of the family for good. But amongst the encouraging words and the uplifting sermon, a gentle nagging tugs at Coach's heartstrings. Rule #37: A person at the bottom of an alliance better not feel like they're at the bottom of an alliance or stones will be thrown, the people will revolt, and it'll be anarchy. Coach tries his best to reassure his disciples of the importance of unity and trust, but one lone Mrs. (Whitney) isn't falling for it. Through a mass of tangles (and a sullied wedding dress), the Mrs. wonders how smart people can be so stupid. Perhaps there's something to that. I myself wonder how a smart girl can secretly get married, go on a national tv show, bump uglies with a robot, and think she can keep it all a secret. You're right, Whitney. How can smart people be so dumb?!

A new day dawns and with it, an ancient mystical dance of delights. The waves crash and the wind blows gently as two men juggle suns and shoot the clouds with their pointer fingers. This meditation in motion is grace personified - If "grace" is a herky jerky freckled lad dropping suns and shooting his own foot with an imaginary bow, but grace nonetheless! Steady, constant, flowing, Tai Chi promotes serenity by connecting mind and body and, let's face it, Coach is a pretty serene guy whereas Cochran is a jumble of nerve endings swaying in the breeze. Cochran admits to drinking the "Coach Kool Aid" in order to inch his way up the elimination pecking order, but I think, deep down, young Cochran actually enjoys picking up a few tips to lower his stress levels. Neuroses only gets worse if left unattended. Yet, amongst all the peace and calming whale music, Coach stares hypnotically at the sea and voices his concern for the coming days. Albie is acting super squirrelly and Brandon is running around giving everyone "HATZ" tattoos which leaves Coach wondering if maybe he'll be blindsided down the road. Upon hearing this news, all that energy harnessed and all that inner calm achieved from the morning meditation goes flying out the window and anxiety once again cradles Cochran like a fluffy warm comforter.

Anxiety aside, we've got a duel to get to. The Three Stooges enter the arena, but only one will emerge victorious. The winner will continue to live on Rhode Island while the other two will become our first members of the Jury. For today's challenge, you must stand with your arms outstretched and hold two poles against an overhead board. The last one to keep his poles erect stays in the game. "Erect". *sigh* It's so obvious who's going to win. Survivors ready, go.

While Cochran sits twitching, the challenge begins and those loud mouthed freaks observing start to pick favorites. Can I just ask why those knuckleheads are bothering to cheer from the stands? Rancher Rick who seemingly has a daily word quota starts hollering for Mary Jane to excel while Mrs. Whitney throws her garter and bouquet in Keanu's direction. What the hell is going on here? Don't pick sides. Don't risk pissing off someone still in the game. Let those duelers duke it out and keep your traps shut in the meantime. Players look for whispers and hints of reasons to distrust one another. Rancher Rick burping out a "Yeehaw" for Mary Jane would be reason enough for me to vote his ass out. Rooting for duelers has always bothered me. Look, you voted those people out and they're pissed off they're in the position they're in. Just let it lie until you know for sure who's coming back into the game. No need to ruffle any unnecessary feathers.

Alright, so back to the duel. We've got Keanu and his mechanical parts beginning to rust in the dewy air while Mary Jane's squishy biceps are starting to give way. With one inhale, our resident pot dealer is out and off to peddle his wares elsewhere. After a minor battle of the poles, Keanu's wires cross and he's out as well. Ozzy stays alive. Grreat. Just what his ego needs - another win.

It wouldn't be an Ozzy win. however, without another smug Ozzy soliloquy. It went something like this, "I'm in the best place possible. I get stronger everyday on Rhode Island while all you suckers continue to starve. You should see my hair cascading down my back when I emerge slowly from the water with my spear in hand. Too bad the ladies can't see it for themselves. *beats on chest* I'll eat you. All of you." Um, what? Slow down there Ozzy. This isn't Foursome (VERY NSFW). The duel scene ends with Mary Jane slipping Dimples (Jeff Probst) another one of his cockamamie plans for a "Secret Double Redemption Island". Dimples takes one look at the resin covered blueprint and tosses it into the fire. You're done Mary Jane. Go, already!

Instead of peeking in on Tuna Tartare after the duel, we continue to follow Ozzy in all his winningness to observe his daily life on Rhode Island. He awakens with the sun and proceeds to spend his days visiting various ports of call and eating the finest fish the South Pacific has to offer. Marlin, tuna, barracudas - all of them leap out of the water and into Ozzy's awaiting arms. Mermaids lurking on majestic reefs beckon him closer inviting him to search their "caves". Long languid days of food and sex... It's like Sandals Jamaica for crying out loud - all inclusive, rum punch by the pitcher, and a colorful buffet every night. It's a place to refresh, rejuvenate, and relax. Those suckers back at Tuna Tartare wish they had the stamina and island savvy that Ozzy has. *eye roll* So while those Tunas are sucking tiny droplets out of a coconut, Ozzy is throwing Ones at the goddesses of the sea and wondering how he'll ever eat all of the bounty the ocean has generously laid at his feet. I'm sure you'll find a way, Ozzy. Actually, please eat some more so we don't have to listen to you tell us how great you are. Maybe you should consider a daily word quota like Rancher Rick. Just a thought.

Back at Tuna Tartare, Rancher Rick moseys on over to the fish nets, picks one up with the spur of his boot, and tosses it back into the sea upon seeing that it's empty. Foodwise, things are getting dire for the Tunas. I don't mean to butt in or anything, but in the past when starvation has become an issue throughout history, people ate each other to stay alive. Alive. Edna offers nothing more than a flimsy chicken wing so why not take a bite out of burly Brandon or a nibble of a robust milky gal like Sophie. You don't have to kill them per se, but protein is protein.

Huddled together under the rickety shelter, we find Dawn Dawn the soccer mom all puckered up and ready to kiss some ginger ass. She's seen how the other tribe has embraced Cochran with open arms and now she wants a little bit of that love for herself. No sneaky hints or veiled suggestions needed for Dawn. No thick clouds to wade through with this one. After telling Cochran she regrets not tattling on him, she comes right out and tells him, "I'll do anything to stay in this game." With a lift of his eyebrow and a slight adjustment to his spectacles, Cochran wonders to himself if maybe hooking up with Dawn and swooping down with flapping wings to rescue her might be his best move after all. Dawn and Mrs. Whitney are certainly searching for an angel to save them. What if Cochran were that angel? It's another one of those highfalutin metaphors we've come to know and love from Cochran. Anytime a chance to label himself sneaks out and presents itself, Cochran snatches that bitch up with ferocity and cloaks himself with it. I don't pretend to understand it, but it seems to make him feel better to have a label and a place in this game to call his own. *shrugs shoulders* Okay. Just, ugh, don't save Dawn or Whitney please.

And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge, Survivors will balance a bowl of rice on their heads while racing across a course of teeter totters to fill a container. If your bowl falls off or if you touch it, you have to go back to the beginning and start all over again. First person to fill their container and raise their whatever wins Immunity. Survivors ready, go.

The challenge begins and with one ginger step forward Cochran loses his bowl. Coach and Albie spill their rice shortly thereafter and I'm a little stunned. As a man who's probably spent hours balanced on one leg on a perch somewhere, I thought Coach had this thing in the bag! It turns out his head must be pointy or something. Who is excelling however, is Dawn. A few weekends wrestling with some moms at Filene's Basement for the last pair of culottes while balancing her purse on her head has served her well. That flat-headed Brandon also seems to be cruising over the teeter-totters with muscular-calved Sophie right behind him.

And it will continue to be those three who lead the charge for the entire length of the race: Pancake-headed Brandon, feisty shopper Dawn, and ruddy-skinned Sophie. Back and forth, back and forth they go. It'll be a foot race if someone doesn't make a big move soon and that someone turns out to be our sturdy med student. With her balls swinging to and fro, she scoops up an enormous amount of rice piled inches out of the top of the bowl and makes her way to the finish. Dawn scurries by with a few grains here and there, Brandon pours some syrup on the top of his head, and Sophie trudges on. She reaches the finish and we all wonder if her big ass bowl will be enough. Guess what? It is. SOPHIE WINS IMMUNITY!!! Oh and one more thing, there's a lemony twist tonight at Tribal Council. Dawn snatches the word "twist" out of the air and stuffs it in her purse next to her balled up Kleenex and coupons. That "twist" is her hope. That "twist" could be her salvation.

Back at camp, Cochran checks in with Coach to make sure that Dawn and Mrs. Whitney are indeed the next two on the chopping block. He has a sneaking suspicion that there will be a double elimination tonight and before that paranoia starts to bubble up to the surface he needs to check that everything is copasetic and that his safety isn't an issue. Coach gives him a side-eye glance that says "Duh", but Cochran isn't near satisfied yet. If either Dawn or Mrs. Whitney wins that second Immunity Challenge, it's curtains for the young lad. Some pacing is in order - stat!

Cochran isn't the only one in panic mode. Dawn and Mrs. Whitney are definitely feeling the heat and together they quickly make plans to approach Albie. Mrs. Whitney, in all of her newfound twangness (I swear that wasn't there back at episode 1 - maybe marriage brings it out in her), thinks Albie is indeed the raht guy to help her. Brandon's too creepy and who knows what the hell Rancher Rick is up to. Albie is the only one who seems to have his head in the game. I, however, think it's because Albie is the only single guy left. Marriage schmarriage. Whitney wants to party!

So with Cochran lurking creepily on the sidelines, Dawn and Mrs. Whitney make their pitch to Albie. Wooden Albie (is he related to Keith?) mulls over the proposition and begins to consider his long game. Perhaps saving Dawn and Mrs. Whitney would be a good thing. It would surely gain him some Savannah (Savai'i) votes on the Jury as well as appease Cochran and move him up the ranks a smidge. Plus, Albie can finally get rid of that tissue paper Edna once and for all. It infuriates him that a cornflake like that is still in the game. I don't know. Keeping around someone like that until the end - someone you can definitely beat both physically and mentally might be the way to go. I mean, come on. Let's get real. No one is giving Edna a million dollars. Why surround yourself with formidable forces when keeping those barnacles Edna and Rancher Rick until the end would bode so much better for you? Can you imagine a final three with Edna, Rick, and Albie? *throws hands in the air* No contest! Then again, I'm incredibly lazy and the path of least resistance is sometimes the most appealing.

Whether Albie makes this giant move isn't really the issue anymore. What is the issue is that Coach has been hiding in a nearby bush listening to him scheme and plot with Mrs. Whitney! Coach is a man of intuition and as we learned at the beginning of the episode, something sinister has been tugging at his gut telling him that things are awry. Oprah calls it a "whisper". That gentle gnawing in your nether regions that tells you danger is afoot. Not everyone knows how to listen to it. Some people ignore those whispers to the point where they become a scream (usually your scream from not realizing your neighbor was trying to murder you all along and you should have gone ahead and checked the Sexual Offender Registry like you always meant to). A whisper is nothing more than your intuition. Kim Basinger once said, "I feel there are two people inside me - me and my intuition. If I go against her, she'll screw me every time, and if I follow her, we get along quite nicely." Clearly, Coach has a little Kim inside of him that has served him well. We all need a Lil Kim now and again.

If Albie had a Lil Kim he'd know that Coach is wise to everything he's plotting. Coach is in the trees, under the chess set, and behind the tree trunk you sit on... he's everywhere! Like one of those kreepy Kardashians, you can't shake him. Albie continues to plan, continues to scheme, and tries with all of his might to convince Cochran that his time amongst them is running out. Spindly Cochran manages to rile himself up to the point of saying he's way more valuable than Edna. I'm not sure about that. Edna licks a teardrop from a coconut and is full to Spring. She's much less strain on the camp's resources.

To make this new plan work, the defectors will need another vote. Off to the woods they go where they find farmhand Sophie moving logs or raking leaves or doing whatever it is she does in her downtime. Albie reiterates that Edna is useless. She's not only hogging Cochran's #6 spot, but she's a vote for Coach in the end. Sophie scratches her head and thinks about the proposition that's being laid out before her. That sneaky Albie is showing his Cyndi Lauper true colors more and more. The thing is, those true colors just happen to be Sophie's true colors. I see your true colors shining through... Sophie doesn't care for that feather sprite Edna either. Apparently, Edna drives her crazy. Is it the fact that all she needs is a palm leaf for a blanket or is it something else? Other than the Mikayla kissassness of yesteryear, speckle dust Edna has been pretty mute for the run of the show. All of this back and forth and jibber jabber makes Sophie the swing vote. The question is, which direction will she swing?

This brings us to Tribal Council where Dawn wastes no time pleading with the Impalas to use her and Mrs. Whitney. No offense lady, but you're good in challenges and I guess you're somewhat likable. You're Jane 2.0 and not one person on Impala should use you or your tangled friend. Dawn can talk about the low men on the totem pole all she wants, but that Mormon is a threat. She not only threatens the pleasure one feels from an alcoholic beverage, but she threatens the Impalas ability to get votes. Cut her loose, I say!

A wide-eyed Cochran who hates hearing the phrase "number 7" admits that now is the perfect time to make a big move. Dimples feeds off of this and needles the poor boy mercilessly, "You're number se-ven! That bugs you, right? You hate that, right? We're here, you're SEVEN. One, two, three, four, five, six, SEVEN. Seven, seven, seven!" Cochran keeps his cool and assures Dimples that he already has a fistful of plans all ready to go for the next few Tribals. It's funny all these plans... Dawn sort of initiated them, Whitney put them into motion, Cochran thinks he's the mastermind, Albie swears he's the one in charge, and now Sophie is the one they all depend on. Too many people, too many factors, too many cooks in the kitchen. The only ones not dipping their willies into the pie are Coach, Edna, Rick, and Brandon. From afar, that's an alliance of some solidity, with some weight. It's half way flimsy, sure, but you need only look at everyone's agendas to see where the true loyalty lies.

In the end, all the bravado and all the dick swinging was for naught and Dawn is the 11th person voted out of Survivor South Pacific. We only see one vote for Edna which means the defectors pussied out at the last minute. I wonder what happened? Who changed their mind first? Nevermind all the wondering because we've got another Immunity Challenge, bitches!

The rumors are true, it's a double elimination. After a quick little quiz about survival where Mrs. Whitney and Sophie battle it out over the poisonous truths of the South Pacific crab, SOPHIE WINS IMMUNITY... again. Is Sophie a new dark horse we need to keep our eye on? She's proved to be smart, husky, loyal, and someone not to be trifled with. I think I like her. She's careful when she needs to be and busts ass when her life depends on it.

So, again we vote and this time is no different from the last. Whitney is the 12th person voted out of Survivor South Pacific. An elimination during the week of a secret marriage scandal is almost poetic, don't you think? Now she can look forward to Ozzy eating her. Wait, what? So, what did you guys think? Did you want Albie to succeed with his plan? Are you surprised they chickened out? How will Cochran move up the ranks now? Do you think Dawn can still get pregnant? Comment it out bitches and have a great day! Next week is Thanksgiving and it's a recap episode so the blog will return on December 1st. See you then. Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!

Blogus Interruptus

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 12:21:00 +0000

My deepest apologies everyone. I thought I'd be able to write before I left, but a last minute change of plans has made that impossible. No blog this week. The Bitchy Survivor Blog will return November 17th. Please no pissiness. I'm just as upset as you are.

Stay Close To Me

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 13:12:00 +0000

Oscar Wilde once said, "I regard the theatre as the greatest of all art forms, the most immediate way in which a human being can share with another the sense of what it is to be a human being." Clearly, Mr. Wilde watches a lot of Survivor. Bernhardt, Olivier, Barrymore, Dench... Lusth. Legends of stage and screen. Roses flying through the air, audiences erupting into applause, theatre lights warming the skin, accolades, accolades, Bravo, Brava. The work of an actor requires discipline, integrity, perseverance, and self reflection. When the great actor, Lusth, hones his craft, the curls are bouncy and the skin is glistening. Hours of preparation (masturbating) and moustache twirling (masturbating) are devoted to pulling off the greatest ruse of all time. To lie on stage or to lie in life: is there really any difference? Little tiny thimble fulls of dishonesty designed to cloak dark secrets are merely a means to an end. Hopefully, it's an end where the audience is on their feet demanding "More, more, more!" and not an end where the viewer at home snorts into her tumbler of gin and violently throws empty pill bottles at the screen. Well, beggars can't be choosers. Let's recap, shall we?

We continue our tale of deceit in the thick of night next to a crackling fire. Young Cochran couldn't be more pleased by the turn of events at Tribal Council and is eager to share his neurotic glee with his tribemates. He tells the stars to shine brighter, the breeze to blow cooler, and the earth to spin faster. "Spin, spin, spin, we're making Survivor history, spin!" However, the grumpy grump master, Energizer Bunny (Keith), isn't feeling quite as merry as the young sweater-vested one is. He'd much rather sit and stab sticks in the fire while hurling thinly veiled insults into the night sky . You see, Energizer Bunny doesn't live his life letting other people fight his battles. He's much more manly that that. Really? *scratches head* Then why did you vote out Ozzy, dumb ass? Ozzy didn't go to Rhode Island (Redemption Island) to save Cochran. He went to Rhode Island to save the tribe. A tribe that includes you, Mr. Sourpuss.

Out of either annoyance or embarrassment, Cochran ignores the barbs being hurled in his direction and chooses instead to focus on Phase 2 of the D.U.M.B. plan: Secret Agent Man. Cochran is apparently supposed to become a double agent and report all of the Impala's (Upolu) intel to the Savannahs (Savai'i). As an audience, we weren't entirely privy to the creation of phase 2 of the D.U.M.B. plan, but something tells me that it might have been designed for the sole purpose of keeping Cochran busy and out of everybody's hair. Nevertheless, Cochran is ready for his close up Mr. Demille. After all, he has pretended to like the loathsome creatures on his tribe for the past 18 days. Surely he can play the duplicitous villain when the time is appropriate. Just please don't ask him to do "Hoo-ah!" from Scent Of A Woman. His Al Pacino still needs a little work.

Over on Rhode Island, the frightful play continues. We're approaching Act 2 now and Ozzy is about to lay out the exposition for Christine Clearwater Revival. A play can't move forward without two things: Exposition and Conflict. Once Christine City Rollers actually believes that Cochran played the Idol at Tribal Council and was responsible for ousting Ozzy, then Ozzy can begin the slow tragic fall of a hero. After experiencing some agony and all around piss-assness, our protagonist must enter gingerly into his conflict/obstacle. It is the facing and overcoming of this obstacle that will propel our story forward into Act 3 where, if all goes according to plan, we reach our denouement and a peaceful state of calm is once again achieved.

The stage lights dim and we see Sir Ozzy enter from Stage Right. Christine Inch Nails stirs from her slumber as the curtains part...
"Who is it?"
"Sorry to wake you up. I am Ozzy of the Savannahs. Oh man, can you believe it? I was sent here by an Idol!" *waves hands around nervously and kicks the sand*
"Really?"
"Yes! Really! A devilish man-child in glasses pulled the wools over my eyes and here I stand. Oh the humanity!"
"You mean Cochran?"
"Don't speaketh his name woman! Vile creature of the underworld that lad is." *shakes fist in air* "Weasel! LAWYER!!! Are you kidding me?!?"

Annnd scene! *dabs tears with a lace handkerchief* Well, I was moved, were you?

Deep in the weeds of Act 2 we arrive at Rhode Island for the big duel. Typically, on the stage, this is where we'd see men in powdered wigs and frilly shirts slapping each other across the face with leather gloves. The orchestra booms from the pit, the lights pulse in accompaniment, and it's an exciting time to be a theatre goer. Please to enjoy Act 2:

"Ozzy, are you surprised to find yourself here?"
"Egads! Ugh!" *grumble grumble* "You know, I gave everything to my tribe and this is how they treat me!" *dramatic twirl* "Damn ye Idol Of Whores! Whyyyy!!!" *collapses into a pile of tears*

From the Mezzanine, Albie leans over to Coach and whispers, "I don't buy it. I thought Pirates of Penzance was so much better than this." Coach nods and replies, "It's certainly no Starlight Express."

For today's duel, we're going to once again play the Brady Bunch game. Players must create a pole out of sticks and twine in order to retrieve 3 key rings. Unlock the locks of your jail before the old crotchety prospector returns and you'll not only stay alive, but you'll rejoin the game. That's right bitches, we're merging - just like the CBS promo said we were.

Survivors ready, go. Quickly, our actors begin to assemble their poles. A little saliva here, a little elbow grease there, and Christine Atomic Dustbin makes her first attempt. The pole is long enough, but alas, it's not strong enough! Ozzy also makes an attempt, but drops his keys into the sand. After some repairs and alterations, he hooks his keys and before Christine For Pyros knows what the hell is going on... the audience erupts into applause and OZZY STAYS ALIVE!!!

With a jaunty click of his heels and a tapping of his cane, the little tramp beams with pride which means that we've successfully reached our conflict resolution. A sense of catharsis falls over our hero and the evil witch, Christine Lee Simmons, no longer has a part to play in this here drama. Fare thee well lady with 3 names. I won't say I'll miss you all that much. Not only was it exhausting thinking of names for you, but you proved to be a woman with no sense of humor. I was rooting for you and my readers were rooting for you yet week after week after week you kept deleting my blogs from your FB Wall. That's not very nice. I could've spent the time it took thinking up all your cockamamie names stirring my bathtub gin or online ordering pharmaceuticals from Canada. Please never return to Survivor. Go get "Legitimate Force" tattooed on your ankle or something. Buh bye.

The as yet unnamed Merged Tribe descends on their new camp to find a cornucopia of delights: crackers, cheese, beer, fruit, nuts, pretzels. The fare was more "Saturday Afternoon Pub" than "Picnic on Cythera", but everyone was joyous and the merrymaking introductions quickly got underway. Mormon Dawn (I knew it!) refuses a beer while wispy Edna daintily nibbles on a cracker crumb. That should last her through to February.

Amidst the "howdy doo's", Cochran sits alone and is soon approached by Coach who asks him how everything is going in light of the drama at the Savannah's last Tribal Council. Cochran takes a deep breath and reveals how today is his rebirth. Through on camera interviews, Cochran would like us to believe that this was all part of his grand master flash secret agent man plan, but, in reality, I think it really was a rebirth for him. Stanislavsky said that "the actor must believe in everything that takes place on the stage." Well, I think Cochran believes in his rebirth because it was his rebirth.

That honesty and straightforwardness of the gifted performer wouldn't last long though. Cochran continues his meeting with Coach while swinging in a hammock and begins to lay on thick the "Oh, the way my tribe kicks sand in my face. Woe is me! Maybe I should switch sides???" and instantly Coach's bullshit bell begins to ding. Cochran may think he was born to play a double agent, but his performance reeked hauntingly of Ozzy back on Rhode Island. Had he not started throwing handkerchiefs around and breaking out into song at inappropriate times, Coach would be none the wiser. But, as a rabid fan of Cats, Coach knew instantly that this "confession" was simply the posturing of a poorly trained understudy. In no uncertain terms, Coach tells Cochran that he thinks the Savannahs are putting on a poorly produced play for the Impalas in an effort to dupe and sabotage them. It's almost creepy how accurately Coach outlines the Savannah's plan from sending Ozzy to Rhode Island all the way up to sending Cochran in as a double agent. He may pray a lot and juggle fake balls of sun more than any one man should, but his instincts were right on and both myself and Cochran were impressed.

As a student of the game, Cochran expected Coach to come out wearing a cape, riding an imaginary horse, and waving a wand around turning trees into castles. Instead, he found a smart guy who saw right through the poorly applied make-up, right through the improvs, and right through the moth eaten clothes of a second rate cast. Who knew Coach was such a theatre nut?! Furthermore, Coach and Cochran aren't as dissimilar as one might think. In one of my favorite moments last night, Coach confides that he knows how it is to go through life superior to others intellectually yet at the same time attacked for being inferior in other ways. It was a crystal clear moment of truth that resonated loudly with Young Cochran. Sure, Coach may have been trying to woo Cochran, but like that Stanislavsky thing - Coach believed it which made Cochran believe it. So while these two couldn't look more different on the outside, on the inside they might as well be Doublemint Twins.

So now Cochran has a decision to make. Will he side with the Savannahs like he promised and push the next vote to the drawing of rocks or will he jump ship and stick it to the assholes who have treated him poorly for the past 18 days? He's not sure how he'll swing, but until he figures it out he'll just go ahead and tell the Impalas all of the Savannah's secrets. *smacks self in head* There goes that ego thing I was talking about last week. Cochran gets one teeny tiny taste of a captive audience and he's off and running. Brandon now knows Ozzy's ATM code, Albie now knows what Whitney wears to bed, and Sophie now knows every grade Energizer Bunny has ever gotten since kindergarten. Cochran's mouth is like one of those fountains of a cherub peeing. Only, this cherub shits a lot too. If anyone from the CIA or FBI is reading this here little blog (I naturally assume the world of espionage is like Three Days Of The Condor and Robert Redford is sitting behind a desk with large lapels reading everything I put out into the universe), do not, I repeat, DO NOT ever hire Young Johnny Cochran from the Commonwealth Of Virginia to work for you and protect our national secrets and borders. You're better off hiring Phillip Sheppard. He wears a feather in his cap and talks to nuts and berries, but at least he can keep a secret for longer than 2 minutes.

Amidst the verbal diarrhea of state secrets, Cochran pauses to wonder if maybe these new Impalas will look at him as a disloyal and shady kind of a guy. *stifles giggles* Oh no, never! Albie assures Cochran that he's not being disloyal. It only counts as "disloyal" if the Savannahs treated him well and then he went and told their secrets. I'm not sure what rule book that's written in - maybe it's in The Skulls handbook - but it works for Cochran and puts him at ease. Neurotic fit averted. In fact he's so calm and relaxed that he slithers on over to Lil Hantz and tells him how he's supposed to be gathering information for his tribe right now. Brandon may not have his head screwed on tight, but he knows a thing or two about bullying and retribution. Those are what brought him to God after all. Brandon asks Cochran who he's most afraid of on Savannah and the two make up a hit list together with Mary Jane (Jim) at the top followed by the Energizer Bunny. Brandon puts the list in his back pocket, straps on a nine, and assures Cochran that he has nothing to worry about. I wonder if Brandon runs a cartel back at home... Let's just say I wouldn't be surprised if Mary Jane and the Bunny's heads end up on slow moving turtles moving across the New Mexican desert.

The self proclaimed double agent, this "mastermind", decides to go ahead and give the Idol back to Ozzy. That was no masterminding. That was fear, my friends. Visions of being hung upside down by a curly haired handjob master and being shaken until an Idol falls out aren't all that appealing to Cochran I guess. So after "masterminding" the Idol back into Ozzy's hands, Cochran steals away with Mormon Dawn and the two discuss just how loyal they plan on being to their own tribe. Cochran says he'll vote with the Savannahs in round one for sure, but after that it's up in the air. With her hands close to her chest and her giant prairie skirt sticking to her legs, Dawn breaks down into a jumble of tears for her bespectacled freckly friend. After 20 harrowing days of watching him endure the wrath and disrespect of her fellow Savannahs, it has finally dawned on Dawn (ha! dawned on Dawn) that maybe those bullies were not so nice and his feelings might have been hurting all along. Oh puh-lease! Too little too late, sister. For 3 weeks you've watched your tribe hurl rocks at his head and make him the camp slave, but now you suddenly feel bad about it? Do it with me folks *makes a 'W' with fingers* Whatever! That wasn't sympathy. That was a hormonal imbalance.

And now we arrive at the first Individual Immunity Challenge. Only, it's not individual! It's dual. It's sexist. It's one for you and one for me. Come on in guys! Before we get to today's challenge - Keanu, I mean Keith, what pray tell is the new tribe name? "It's Tuna Tartare (Tetuna). It's based on the story of how the coconut came to be. *Beavis & Butthead laugh*" I really hope that was your pacemaker sputtering and not your real laugh. Oy vey.

For today's challenge, Survivors will balance on a small perch while holding a coconut on two ropes. At regular intervals, the ropes will get longer thus making it more difficult to hold onto. The last female standing wins Immunity and the last male standing wins Immunity. Survivors ready, go!

The breeze that left Dimples mouth when he said "Go!" was strong enough to knock over Edna so she's out. Pleased as punch that he didn't go out first, Cochran's freckles start to dance and - boom! - he's out too. End of Round 1.

For round two the ropes are a smidge longer and it's all too much for Whitney and Sophie. What the hell? DAWN WINS IMMUNITY!!! That seemed way too easy, but what the hell do I know? I can balance a martini, a gin fizzy, a feather boa, my cell phone, a fetching clutch, a bottle of pills with someone else's name on it, and a bowl of glitter all in one hand while wearing 6 inch heels and no pants. I am in no way a fair judge.

We're down to just the men and their nuts now. Coach shoots his wad, Rancher Rick's giant hat topples him over, Mary Jane's dead eyes stuns his nut to death, and the Energizer Bunny must have giggled or something because all 4 of those dudes are done. With only Albie, Brandon, and Ozzy left in the game, they'll battle it out in round 3 until a winner is decided. Ozzy begins to wobble as the sun beats down. Albie's pecs do peccy things and the sweat begins to drip. Men v. Nuts. It should have been clear to us from the very beginning because who is the nut master of Survivor? OZZY WINS IMMUNITY!!! Ugh.

Back at Tuna Tartare with ill-placed harmonica hill music playing in the background, the Savannahs are busy congratulating themselves and having a meeting about how the vote will go. Sophie is their number one choice, but Mary Jane thinks there's no way the Impalas would ever think to use their Idol to save Rancher Rick. Ozzy flips his hair this way and that while Mary Jane hacks a coconut to death. The two want to know for sure that everyone is voting for Rancher Rick tonight. Cochran asks, "Why? Do you want me to flip? Should I flip?" *smacks self in head again* Why even say something like that?!? And the Worst Double Agent Of The Year award goes to...

For some reason, all of these dumb ass people who probably spent years trying to get on this show are just fine and dandy with letting the vote go to a tie and then to the draw of a colored rock - especially Mary Jane. "You gonna let it go to rocks? You're comfortable going to rocks, right? Just making sure you're going to rocks. Rocks, rocks, rocks!" I'm sure he has some sort of poker algorithm about odds and statistics in that giant dead-eyed cranium of his that assures his safety, but it's a little unnerving how pushy he is to let the vote go to rocks. Next they have to decide if they want to use the Idol and who they want to use it on. Enter motormouth Mary Jane again. "Whitney, Whitney, we have to give it to Whitney. They'll never think we'll give it to Whitney. Play the Idol for Whitney. Rocks, rocks, Whitney, rocks!" Did meth just become legal in Colorado? He's got to be peddling something with a little more oomph, something other than weed. Mary Jane with all of his plans and schemes... it's like a meth head disassembling the tv and telephone out of boredom.

Meanwhile, Cochran is busy taking notes on a giant legal pad "Rick, Idol, Whitney, rocks." He folds up the paper, puts in his pocket, and makes his way over to the Savannahs. As someone who loves the game, Cochran is extremely uncomfortable letting the vote go to rocks. While that may be true, I do think the rock scenario gives him a little more of a push to cross over to the other side. He can spout all he wants about being a true lover of the game, but, in reality, he's just really scared. His chances of staying tonight are far better if he flips. The rock scenario lingering in the distance gives Cochran the justification he's been looking for all along. Now that he has it, will he use it?

After telling Sophie the Savannah's plan - "Rick, Idol, Whitney, rocks." - Cochran wonders if maybe the Impalas will just go ahead and use the Idol on Rancher Rick. That way Cochran won't have to flip and the bullies won't bury him in the sand head first. Sophie thinks for a second and decides that even though she trusts Cochran, she can't commit to that. Besides, this is the Impalas way to test Cochran's loyalty. Trust is earned, not given Freckle Face. The conversation ends with Cochran gripping the hem of Sophie's dress and making her promise that she won't let the bad guys beat him up. Sophie agrees and Cochran finally lets go of her dress. Next he scurries off to Coach and asks, "They're going to eat me alive! Where am I going to sleep?!" Coach tells him he can spoon with him and Edna. This makes Cochran feel better and now he has only one person left to check in with... Dawn.

After visiting the medic and getting doped up with whatever hormones ladies that age take, Dawn seems much calmer now. She asks Cochran which way he's thinking of voting and swears she won't tell anyone. She'll just let him play his little game only... he's about to start a war!!! War is never the solution. It's always the problem. The war on dirt, the war on grime, the war on rising grocery prices, the war on carpool lanes... Dawn is no stranger to war and the last thing she wants now is a war in her own tribe. Hey lady, what happened to all those icky feelings you had about the assholes on your tribe treating Cochran like scum? Where did those go? Did the fairy "Millicent Progesterone" make them all go away? Are you sure you're not related to Crazy Pants? Before, Cochran was a nice smart boy who reminded Dawn of her son. Now, he's a selfish prick who's not supporting his tribe. I shudder to think which one of her personalities will show up in the morning.

And this brings us to Tribal Council. Tuna Tartare is there in all of it's glory and Coach starts off by saying that the vote will most likely go to 6-6. Dimples wonders if maybe someone can flip sides. He points to Edna who blows over the log and whispers from the ground, "If that one individual didn't feel incorporated or part of that tribe, that could be one reason." Thank you Edna.

Dimples turns the conversation to the Idol and Albie is more than happy to give a theatre critique of Ozzy's Rhode Island performance. Like the great Dorothy Parker said of Katherine Hepburn, "[Ozzy] runs the gamut of emotions from A to B." Sophie jumps in and proclaims that she was actually offended by what happened at Rhode Island. It's a regular Algonquin Round Table here in the South Pacific. Witty intellectuals tearing apart the curly tendrils of bravado. Woe is the vicious circle of reason.

It's a shame that reason can't be taught because out of anger over his poor reviews from the South Pacific Theatre Critics Association (SPTCA for short), Ozzy says, "You guys are right. I do have the Idol!" *smacks Ozzy in the head* Why can't this guy ever let anything go?! Why does he always have to be such a show off? A savvy person would have just smiled and nodded. Instead, Ozzy pulls the Idol out and dances around the campfire with it. Seriously, I can't stand this guy. Nauseating. By the look on Coach's face, he feels pretty much the same way I do. Coach and I just smirk and shake our heads together over what a dumdum that feeble-minded Ozzy is.

It's time to vote. If anyone has the Hidden Immu... "I have it! See! It's right here! Hahaha! Look at me - Idol Man!" After a herky jerky dance of kicks and elbows, Ozzy turns over his Idol and uses it on Whitney. The Impalas laugh to themselves as the vote reveals a tie: 6 for Keith, 6 for Rancher Rick. We vote again...

Survivors can only vote for Keith or Rick now. I'll read the votes... Keith (yes!), Keith (woohoo!), Keith (haha!), Keith (sucker!), Keith (later alligator!), Rick, Rick, Rick, Rick... *drumroll* KEITH IS THE 8th PERSON VOTED OUT OF SURVIVOR SOUTH PACIFIC!!! *glitter falls from the sky as Mary Jane begins to pummel Cochran upside the head with a rock* Lil Hantz reaches in and plucks Cochran out to safety. Mary Jane shouts, "Coward! Coward!" It's mayhem, I tell you, and it's delicious! The Impalas surround Cochran in a cloud of love and God while Brandon leans over and whispers, "Stay close to me." Off into the night, off into the darkness, off into safety? The tides have turned, my friends.

So, what did you think of last night's episode? Will Mary Jane bash Cochran's head in with a coconut? Will Dawn picket the war? Will Cochran never ever ever move about camp alone again? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

You Gotta Sack Up And Go For It

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 14:12:00 +0000

It might surprise all of you good people to know that I spent the majority of my young formative years locked up in a Catholic prison (i.e. all girls school). It was there that I first heard the phrase "lamb of God". I'm not exactly sure what it means (I was much too busy clanking the bars of my cage against one another), but I think it has something to do with sacrifice and it is sacrifice that I want to address today. The Free Online Dictionary defines sacrifice as "to give up, abandon, relinquish, lose, surrender, let go, do without, renounce, forfeit, forego, say goodbye to." Applying this definition to Survivor I'm thinking things like: "give up on logic", "abandon all ye hopes and dreams", "relinquish your Idol", "lose you loser", "surrender what you've worked so hard for", "let go of sanity", "do without the title of Ultimate Survivor", "renounce the title 'Veteran' while you're at it", "forfeit the goddamn game", "forego glory", and "say goodbye to one million dollars." In politics or religion, the notion of sacrifice is usually one of admiration and selflessness. But in the world of Survivor, it is merely but a fleeting fancy of a pig-tailed girly man trying to make his mark in this world. This sacrifice is, at it's core, selfish and therein lies it's fault. This isn't a lamb of God before us. This is more like a horny toad of God. Let's ribbit, I mean recap, shall we?

We continue our turgid tale in the thick of night under a full moon where the air is damp and the insects are singing at the tops of their tiny lungs . The Impalas (Upolu) are returning from Tribal Council and the one thing on everyone's mind is: "Hot damn, that Brandon is a freak!" Tiny dust particle Edna doesn't exactly like it that her name keeps popping up when in the presence of Dimples (Jeff Probst), but she is somewhat thankful that Lil Hantz is clearly off his meds and is taking some of the heat off of herself and her toothpick appendages. Speaking of toothpicks, the one in Rancher Rick's mouth is all chewed to hell. That Brandon makes his 'stache twitch and he's not so sure the Impalas can walk into the Merge with their heads held high with that bipolar liability doing his crazy dance every time someone has to make a move that isn't ordained by God. Coach calmly puts his hand of Rancher Rick's shoulder and whispers, "If I can't keep him under control, we'll have to put a bullet in his head." Coach insists that John Steinbeck gave him the idea, but as a hardcore fan of Sons Of Anarchy (I weep for you people with DirecTV), I'd like to think that the idea came from Clay Morrow. If someone gets in your way or threatens your livelihood, you take care of it like any rational man on the back of a Harley would - with a 9mm and a scratched off serial number. Duh.

Without further ado and zero pleasantries from Dimples, we are whisked away to Rhode Island (Redemption Island) and hurled smack dab into the duel between Christine Michael Montgomery and bra-wielding mute brute, Mikayla. Sophie and Albie are there representing Impala with Ozzy and Cochran representing Savannah (Savai'i) For today's duel, players will take apart a crate made of wooden planks. They will then use those planks to create a bridge. After the bridge is complete, they'll take the bridge apart, flip the planks over, and use some of those planks to solve a puzzle. Winner stays in the game while the loser burns their buff and cries about how much they've grown as a person. *rolls eyes* It's beginning to bother me that the players can't just have their buffs snuffed and then get sent off into the night under a cloak of humiliation like in the good old days. Rhode Island has turned our beloved little cutthroat game of Survivor into a self-help class and I object!

Survivors ready, go. The challenge begins as both women tear into their crates. Christine Lou Retton quickly figures out that if you scoop the planks up from the bottom that all of the planks will then go flying. Seeing this, Albie shouts from the stands to Mikayla, "Pick it up from the bottom!" We see Ozzy glance over to the Impalas with what I thought was a look of annoyance on his face. However, knowing what I know now, perhaps it was a look of confusion instead.

Both women quickly get their planks free and move onto the bridge portion where Mikayla begins to catch up with Christine Jean King. They move swiftly through their bridges, but Mikayla gets stuck when she can't find a plank she needs. Again Albie shouts from the sidelines, "Right side! The right side! That'a'girl!" Dimples rightly takes this opportunity to point out that both girls came from the same tribe, but only one is getting any help from them.

Since Christine Ty Bryan was clearly too busy competing to give Albert the finger, she finishes her bridge and moves on to tearing it apart in search for puzzle pieces. Mikayla finally finishes her bridge as well and with help from Albie she tosses her painted planks towards the puzzle and throws the blank planks at Christine Jacob Astor's head.

After a narrow competition and a false finish from Mikayala, CHRISTINE TYLER MOORE STAYS ALIVE!!! Albie shakes his head his anger as a thin-lipped Sophie begins to blow steam out of her ears. Dimples congratulates Christine Gordon Levitt and says, "You're becoming a legitimate force." With a wave of her hand and a furl of her lip, Christine Rogers Nelson barks back, "I've always been a legitimate force!" You know, a "thank you" would have sufficed. Through sniffles and heavy shoulders, panty wearer Mikayla walks off into the distance to a future where she'll fight endless gaggles of women over garter belts and slips. Good luck with that Mikayla.

It is here that we begin to hear rumbles of Ozzy's cockamamie plan to turn himself into the horny toad of God. For some reason, even after all the yelling and interference from Albie at the duel, Ozzy thinks that Christine James Elliot could still possibly side with the Impalas at the Merge. Oh sure, Albie was all but waving a flag that said "CHRISTINE KNIGHT PULLIAM SUCKS DONKEYS!", but yeah, ok, I guess they could still welcome her back with open arms. *makes a 'W' with fingers*

On the way back to Savannah, Ozzy stops Cochran and tells him that they need to begin helping each other. They need to start giving each other handjobs, I mean, wash each other's backs and whatnot. Ozzy wonders if perhaps it's not a good idea to send someone, like himself, to Rhode Island to get rid of Christine Ingalls Wilder. Oh sure, she hates her tribe and likes to give them obscene finger gestures whenever the fancy strikes, but what if Ozzy were to go to Rhode Island, give his Idol to Cochran, and make the most daring move this game has ever seen? As a girl who has her wits about her, I can't help but wonder if Ozzy hasn't had this plan in his curls all along - maybe even pre-season. I mean, how else can you explain that even though Christine Wilkes Booth completely abhors her tribe (and they the same in return), Ozzy is worried that she'll skip off happily with the Impalas. It makes no sense!

Ozzy calls all of this his "Worst Case Scenario" plan, but I call it his "Daringly Unnecessary Mad Bonkers" plan (D.U.M.B. for short). Cochran listens to it all with wide eyes and a sly smile and after completing his herky jerky tarantella of joy, he tells Ozzy that the D.U.M.B. plan is indeed a genius one. In reality, all Cochran cares about is that he isn't going to Rhode Island and who can blame him? If Ozzy came up to me and said he wanted to be the horny toad of God, I'd let him.

Meanwhile over at Impala, we are finally treated to our requisite "Coach On The Beach Doing Tai Chi" scene. It usually consists of Coach waving an imaginary sword around while riding an invisible horse and trying to rescue a damsel in distress from a tower, but this time he's actually talking to God in some sort of kinetic prayer. With a raise of his arms and closed eyes, Coach thanks God for helping him in the game of Survivor because, you know, God doesn't have enough to deal with right now in the world. Up on that cloud of His, instead of sitting behind His big desk in that executive office, He's plastered to His sofa with a bag of Cheetoh's on His lap thinking to Himself, "I wonder who I can help today..." Children in Cambodia are being sold into the sex trade, babies in Bangladesh are starving to death, prisoners of war are being tortured, and somewhere a country is experiencing genocide right about now, but none of that matters in comparison to 18 greedy Americans on a tropical island competing for a million dollars. Yes Coach, you are the one whom God chooses to help. Dude, take a little credit for yourself! You found the Idol. You are worthy Wayne Campbell.

After prayer time is over and he has pointed many arrows at the sun, Coach comes to the conclusion that God wants him to lie to his tribe. God wants Coach to help his fellow Impalas by sending them on a wild goose chase for an Idol he already has in his back pocket. The logic being that if the tribe feels like they've worked together towards a goal and achieve said goal, then their spirits will be buoyed and victory is only a heartbeat away. It's a sneaky plan that sort of makes sense. I question the legitimacy of it really coming down from God, but, hey, whatever works.

Squirrelly Brandon seems to be having an OK day so far. I mean, his head is screwed on straight and he's not hiding in the trees leering at women so today is as good a day as any for Coach to pull off the big dupe. After a huddle, a cuddle, and a prayer, the tribe disperses in search of the Hidden Immunity Idol. Sophie feels a little icky about the giant ruse, but there is a million dollars on the line so - icky feeling be gone! Let's dupe these bitches! While the tribe searches in vain, Sophie and Coach stumble upon Tree Mail and it's a giant cornucopia of paints and adornments for the upcoming challenge. Coach thinks it'll be delicious to deliver both the Idol and the Tree Mail at the same time - a twofer from God if you will. As twofer deals are always fun for everyone involved, the tribe is ecstatic. Brandon spins Edna on the edge of his finger while Rancher Rick does a line dance in the sand. Merriment and joy - plan complete. The only problem now is that Brandon thinks God is the 7th person on their tribe. Using Albert's blanket, Coach's pillow, Edna's rice bowl, Rick's hat, and Sophie's dress, Brandon has given God his own wing in the shelter and a food ration out of their very limited supplies. I wouldn't be surprised if later the young lad constructs a God Scarecrow and stays up all night talking to it.

And that brings us to the promotionally sponsored Immunity Challenge where both tribes have arrived dressed in their Tree Mail finery. Come on in guys!

We have the crackerjack group of girls from Savannah.

And the escapee Mexican wrestlers from Impala.

For today's challenge, tribes will be divided into pairs - twins if you will. One set of twins will be the callers and the other two sets will be the sad blindfolded sacks who get to bump their heads into things. The callers will guide the blindfolds through an obstacle course where the blindfolds will retrieve bags of masks. Once all the masks have been gathered, one set of twins, using only their sense of touch, will pair up the masks into their matching pairs. In addition to Immunity, the winning tribe will also get a reward trip to the Survivor Cinema which is sort of like that lonely $2 theatre in your town that runs Plan 9 From Outer Space on the weekends and caters to sweaty boys who live in their parents basement. If you'll remember, the Survivor Cinema ran Gulliver's Travels last year. Keeping with that pedigree, it's now running the new Adam Sandler movie Jack & Jill. How this is a reward I do not know, but the accompanying popcorn and hot dogs is something at least.

Mary Jane (Jim) and Cochran will be the callers for Savannah while Coach and Rancher Rick The Mute (???) will be the callers for Impala. Survivors ready, go!

Brandon and feather sprite Edna take off for Impala while Energizer Bunny (Keith) and Dawn take off for Savannah. Coach instructs his pair to "Get down!" while Mary Jane guides Dawn smack dab into a pole. I covered my mouth and giggled to myself as Dawn cried out for Calgon to take her away. Meanwhile, Edna has no idea what "duck" or "stand" means and she crashes hard into an overhanging beam. A hit like that on a mosquito like her, we're lucky she's still in one piece and not splattered across that poor innocent beam. Both teams continue through the course and successfully get their bags.

Next up is Albert & Sophie and Ozzy & Whitney and it's almost incident free until Sophie makes a painful ankle twisting splat into a giant ditch of sand. As a girl with ankles like a hummingbird, I felt that pain all the way over here in my dungeon of delights.

The game continues and it seems like the pairs are finally learning to listen to their callers. If only Dawn could tear her nose away from the deli aisle and get her head back in the game! Over at Impala, Edna has decided that climbing up onto Brandon's back is her best mode of transport. It's a good thing the girl only weighs as much as a ball of lint. Although knowing Brandon, he probably thought he was giving Jesus a lift.

The pairs wait to get hitched up to their next obstacle course, but there's a problem on Savannah. It seems that rope twirling isn't second nature to Cochran like it is to Rancher Rick over at Impala. Cochran has let his ropes gets all tangled up and now Ozzy & Whitney are stuck with nowhere to go. Mary Jane leaps off of his soap box and is forced to assist as Cochran takes a step back and his entire body turns a lovely shade of scarlet. Sophie's booby was flopping, Ozzy had ropes coming out of his armpits, Whitney almost hung herself on an accidental noose, Albie forgot how to untie knots, and it was awesome, I mean, it was mayhem!

In the end, Coach led another prayer circle, Ozzy & Whitney never recovered from the lasso mess, and IMPALA WINS IMMUNITY!!! Coach inexplicably shouts, "On your knees! On your knees!" while over at Savannah, Ozzy was tearing up the joint. With braids bouncing, he punched the sand. With tufts of angry curls framing his face, he karate chopped a wall in anger and growled one of those primal growls you might hear from a hunter or maybe a serial killer. Meanwhile, Coach is busy reprimanding his tribe for celebrating. He yanks Edna's arm out of socket and pushes Sophie down by the head, "On your knees! Let's pray!" I looked around the room I was in and wondered if perhaps someone had slipped some of the naughty stuff (LSD) into my gin fizzy. I took a sniff of my cocktail and tried to remember back to my college days if LSD indeed has a smell or not. *shrugs shoulders and drinks* Eh, I can't remember. All I know is that on my screen an angry little girl with braids is brutally beating the shit out of a bespectacled spindly kid while a man with a giant cross on his back is forcing his tribe to eat dirt. I don't know if it's a hallucination or not, but it is bee-you-tee-full.

Enter Jack & Jill schmooze fest here.

Back at Savannah with an ice pack to his head and his neck in traction, Cochran sits ready to be yelled at. He's wiped away his tears and put on his big boy face. If the tribe wants to talk to him, he's ready to hear it now. The only problem is that Ozzy keeps throwing rocks at the poor kid's head, Mary Jane is kicking sand in his face, and Energizer Bunny is flicking his ear with his fingers. I'm surprised a wedgie didn't show itself. It was like that scene in Can't Buy Me Love when all the cool kids turn on Patrick Dempsey and he has to go sleep on the floor of the tool shed all alone. *tear* Ozzy continues to mumble profanities to himself, but all the Bunny wants to know is - who is going to Rhode Island? Cochran sits in silence as Ozzy announces, "I hate to say it, but Cochran - you lost it for us." Hold up there Pippy! Wasn't it you who wanted to sweep down and be the big hero of the game and take out Christine John Silver?

What follows next was either a comedy of lies or a tragedy of errors. Pick one. Both work. Sitting in my squishy chair watching the Savannah's halfheartedly tell Cochran that this is his one chance to redeem himself, "This is what Rhode Island is all about.", and "Don't be scared. Intimidate her!" I again wondered to myself if I was on some sort of hallucinogenic. I felt very much like Cochran did in that moment. The more Dawn spoke of redemption and the opportunity Cochran now has before him, the more I wanted to steal her coupon binder and squirt her in the face with some hairspray. In fact, it reminded me of a cheerleading meeting I had when I was 12. One girl on the squad was feeling inadequate and we all sat in a circle Indian style and told her "Oh no, you're not inadequate at all. We lost the competition as a team. It wasn't just you." Lies, lies, 12 yr old lies. Of course that bitch lost the competition and of course Cochran will be eaten alive at Rhode Island! To try to pretend otherwise is just silly.

When all hope seemed lost, when the future was all but etched in stone, a mess of tendrils fell into bed and had a fitful night of sleep. Barrettes, ghouls, and sugarplums danced in Ozzy's head and when he awoke - he knew what he now had to do. He needs to retrieve his Hidden Immunity Idol, pass it on to a surrogate, and go to Rhode Island where he can decimate Christine Dean Stanton and have a ticker tape parade thrown in his honor. Ozzy doesn't think this is Cochran's time for redemption. Ozzy thinks it's his time for redemption. I'm not sure how, but the young lady has convinced himself that Rhode Island is actually a gift. It's his opportunity to be the hero and daggummit, Cochran is not going to take that chance away from him. I'm not sure if Ozzy is trying to get a tv show like Colby and Rob and Russell, but his motive seems disingenuous. I can't shake the feeling that this is something he's had planned all along, something designed to make himself stand out. Whatever the reason, you better believe that Cochran doesn't give a fig. If Ozzy wants to go to Rhode Island, great. Let him. Let him go under the guise of heroism. Let him have his fancy schmancy hero party for one. However, Energizer Bunny and Mary Jane aren't so eager to let him to go...

And this brings us to Tribal Council. The finger pointing is immediate and Cochran is on the receiving end of it. He admits his faults. He screwed up. It's not like he can pretend that it wasn't he who tangled up the ropes. What he won't admit to, no matter how much Dimples tries to make him feel like a lifelong walking accident, is that this sort of thing happens all the time in his life. I think I agree with Cochran. He strikes me as the type of guy who avoids embarrassing situations. Let's just say, I don't think he's out playing flag football in the park with the guys on the weekend and then getting yelled at for not holding onto his flags tight enough. Cochran doesn't even know what flag football is!

Sick of all the attention Cochran is getting, Ozzy announces, "The thing is Dimples, I'm putting my life on the line." *intense music thumps in the background* Ozzy goes on to describe this magical dream of hair ribbons he had where he saw the Merge and he saw himself winning that Rhode Island duel. You see, the last time Ozzy played Survivor he neglected to listen to his heart. Well, this time his heart is saying, "Get voted out of the game sucka!" He has decided that he won't make the same mistake of ignoring it twice. There's this need he has to prove himself, to prove his worth, and that need, that nagging inside, is greater than logic. It's greater than common sense. Shit, it's greater than a million dollars I guess. What Ozzy doesn't realize is that the nagging isn't his heart and it isn't his gut. It's his ego. Eckhart Tolle taught me that. It's the only part of that damn book I actually understood.

The soliloquy continues and you can almost see Ozzy's ego taking over and speaking for him. "I'm going to play the craziest game that I want to play. I also have the Immunity Idol, Dimples. I'm going to pass it off an then collect it later after I've dominated and proved to everyone what a bad ass I am." *snickers* Dumb. Ass. There are too many unknown factors at play here. First, he has to win the duel and since none of the duels have been remotely physical, it's just too risky. Second, what if the damn Merge doesn't even happen tomorrow?! And C) what if the Merge happens, but the person from Rhode Island doesn't come back until later? See? Too many "what if's" hanging out there. A million dollars buys a lot of hair gel. Is Ozzy really willing to risk all of that on a dream (or a pre-planned ploy to get some air time)?

In the end, Cochran is now the proud owner of an Immunity Idol and Ozzy is the 7th person voted out of Survivor South Pacific. So, what did you guys think? Do you really think Ozzy is doing this for the good of the camp? Wouldn't it have been better for the Savannah's to dump Cochran and pick up Christine Van Camp? Do you think Cochran will give back the Immunity Idol if Ozzy ever returns? Will they Merge next week? Do you really believe that all of this came to Ozzy in a dream? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

That's Lasciviousness

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 13:01:00 +0000

There comes a time in everyone's life when sides must be chosen and lines must be drawn in the sand. The languid life of teeter-toterring hither and thither has to come to an end and either you fight for Sparta or you fight for Troy. Or, maybe, you throw a baby bottle hurling tantrum and you end up siding with Gymboree instead. *shrugs shoulders* Who knows? All I know is that at some point lasciviousness will rear her wanton head and crush the world of "almosts" and "littles" right before our very eyes. No more little lies (try telling that to Fleetwood Mac), no more almost highs (try telling that to Mary Jane), and no more half caf half way loyal dawdling. A lie is a lie, a bong is a bong, and either you take your coffee full caf or decaf. It's all or nothing, baby. We've got ourselves a war to fight and you sissy middle-of-the-roaders better get out of the way or start digging your own graves. This is a battle to the death. I'm not exactly sure what it is we're fighting for, but to hear Young Brandon tell it, it sounds ominous and Old Testament-y. It could be for the sanctity of our souls or simply for the right to get "JUEVOS RANCHEROS" tattooed wherever we want. Either one sounds like a good cause to me. Viva Zapata! Let's recap, shall we?

After a brutal Tribal Council where his undercover massage queen was all of a sudden voted out, Curly Sea God Ozzy is angry, my friends. His lips are thin, his hair is kinky, his manhood whimpers, and, I don't know how, but he's found a binky to carry around with him. Ozzy isn't spitting mad. He's not trashing the joint or anything. Instead he's doing his, "Well, I guess I know who my real friends are" side eyeroll thing that people do when they're angry yet also want everyone to see them as a victim. With one foot in the sand spelling, "I MISS MY HANDJOBS", Ozzy announces that he is now a free agent. Henceforth, he'll be playing only for himself and all you lovekillers can go ahead and play for yourselves. The scene is very dark and the faces observing are clouded in mystery and fear. One little country girl speaks up and says, "I dawn't undastaind why u tekkin this so person'ly." Whitney assures Ozzy that none of this was an attack on him which is kind of funny because getting rid of Chickenhawk (Elyse) was exactly an attack on Ozzy.

Ozzy clutches his blankie and tells them that withholding info from him is clearly a sign of attack. Out of nowhere Dawn chirps, "Oh give me a break Ozzy! You withhold shit from us all the time." I may have paraphrased that a little bit, but that's not important. What's important is that Dawn sees through the shiny pretty hunter/gatherer Ozzy Of The People image he's so desperately trying to portray. Ozzy is playing with his own agenda just like everyone else is. So while Energizer Bunny (Keith) is hiding in a corner hoping the badness goes away and that Ozzy doesn't hold a grudge against him, kick ass Dawn confronts the situation head on and stops pretending that shitpies are gumdrops. What do you supposed Ozzy's response to Dawn was? "Well, I got the Idol. How 'bout that?!", he spits. The rest of his tribe sits open-mouthed. Cochran checks his ears to see if he heard him right while Keith buries his head in the sand and waits for the next morning.

The next day at Savannah (Savai'i) we find the sun shining and a gentle breeze blowing, but there's an ugliness now. A waft of stinky betrayal hangs thick over the camp. While Ozzy is off pouting underwater trying to find a mermaid to love, the rest of the tribe is ashore shaking their heads over what a baby Ozzy is. Dawn wants to put Ozzy in a time out and demand an apology. Whitney & Keith appear more worried about themselves than anything else while Mary Jane (Jim) sits with his dead-eyed toothy grin and begins to count his million. Mary Jane is thrilled that the plan he didn't really architect has spiraled out of control and has sent Ozzy to the funny farm. Cochran too is excited. Well, as excited as a bespectacled guy in a sweater vest can get. Excitement to Cochran is defined as "not anxious". Sometimes, for brief fleeting moments, Cochran feels the veil of anxiety lift and he gets to take a good look around at what the world looks like to someone who's not chronically neurotic. The glimpses are quick. Like a blink of an eye. They don't stick around long and they don't make empty promises they can't keep, but they remind Cochran that there is always something to work towards. And isn't that what life is about? Bettering yourself, working towards a goal, stickin' it to the jocks who never invited you once to their frat party. I think that and collecting a bunch of figurines mint-in-box is what propels Cochran towards a future he can be proud of. His past may have been less than perfect, but sitting on this beach right now watching Ozzy fingerpaint boobies and legs. This is perfection.

Back at Impala (Upolu) Lil Hantz has taken it upon himself to go searching for the Hidden Immunity Idol Clue. With that pesky Merge around the corner, he'd rather be safe than sorry. Besides, he's a Hantz! He can do this. He can sniff an idol out of the ass of a 19 year old's firm young backside if need be. *sniff sniff* Well, looky here. That's a clue! Young Brandon finds it fairly quickly and then scampers off to show it to Albie (I'm ditching Welch's - It's too confusing with the apostrophe) and Coach. "Being a Hantz pays off," he says as he removes the clue from the buff around his neck. It got stuck at one point and his MADRE tattoo actually looked like it said DRE for a split second. For that one brief hiccup in time, Brandon actually looked tough. Of course the PINATA tattoo underneath it takes away any and all credibility.

So Brandon has the clue. Coach and Albie give him high fives and in a condescending tone say, "Look at you!" "Look at you" is the go to phrase when little kids say "Watch me do this!" and then they kick spastically in the air and expect you to applaud. That's all Brandon is - a child who kicks like a spaz. With karate chops and jaunty jumps, Brandon searches high and low for the Idol while Coach cheers him on from the shore. The more he watches Brandon move and walk like a bulldog, the more those visions of Survivor yesteryear flash before his eyes. All Coach can see is Russell - evil, devilish Russell - and it scares him to death. Loyalty and integrity may be strong tenets of the dragon slayer code of ethics, but are they so sacrosanct as to blithely apply and protect any random TACO-tattooer? Coach isn't so sure, but he'll sleep with one eye open from here on out. You can count on that.

This brings us to Rhode Island (Redemption Island). Ozzy & Keith are there representing Savannah while Rancher (man of few words) Rick & Sophie are there representing Impala. The gladiators are marched in and immediately Ozzy begins making obscene finger gestures to Chickenhawk (Elyse). Maybe he can get a quick handy by osmosis? Dimples ignores Ozzy's lewd tongue movements and turns his attention to Christine Wayne Gacy. Her stringy hair is pulled back, that muumuu she's been wearing looks like it doubles as both a bed and toilet paper, and , most importantly, the spirit has gone out of her eyes. She's a matted rub of what she used to be. Just sort of a blurb of a person we once knew perhaps. Dimples asks her about her life on Rhode Island and she collapses into an uncharacteristic pile of tears. It just goes to show you - no matter how tough you might think you are, that tiny Rhode Island where all the people talk funny can kick your ass. I think the Pretty Pony lasted a good long while before he sniffled puffy beauteous tears that tasted like strawberries. This Christine Allen Coe isn't nearly as magical as my Pretty Pony was. I seriously doubt she can fly over rainbows like he could.

Alright so for this week's duel we're going to pretend we're in an old folk's home and you two harpies are going to play Shuffleboard. Really Survivor? Shuffleboard? That's the best you can come up with? It's very rare that I bitch about Survivor challenges - mostly because they're elaborate and difficult - but these Rhode Island challenges SUCK. It's like game night at the neighbor's house. Bean bag tossing, pssh! Pole balancing, tosh! Give me a challenge where there's some anxiety, some tension, some PAIN. This week is like air hockey at the arcade. Ugh. Whatever.

So yeah the goal is to knock off the other person's pucks before they can knock off yours. Whish, whish, kerplunk! CHRISTINE BIGGS DAWSON stays alive!!! Ozzy whimpers to himself as ChickenHawk waves sadly and walks away. Her stay in the game was brief and her contributions were nil, but, oh, what she could do with her mouth! Conversely, Christine Hyde Pierce gathers up her belongings and very maturely flicks off her tribe as she begins the trek back to her sad little shelter where she'll have sand fleas and rotten sea cucumbers for dinner. Yum!

On the way back to Impala, Rancher Rick has a hesitance to his mosey. He didn't care for the fact that Christine Shay Smith was so angry and unreasonable at the duel. A cowgirl would never treat a cowboy in such a rude manner. A cowgirl would nod and curtsy. That's the only polite thing to do. Her willingness to flout the laws of cowboy decency leads him to only one rational conclusion: if she ever makes it back into the game, she'll kill him and everyone else in their tribe. Sophie nods in agreement and they both know that if Christine Harvey Oswald reenters the game she's go on a firing spree after everyone left at Impala. Seriously, any security people associated with the production of Survivor need to make sure that their weapons haven't been stolen or tampered with. I wouldn't be surprised in the least if Christine Paige Kent has a glock in her hoo-ha and she's just waiting for the appropriate time to use it.

While there's not much anyone can do right now to thwart off an imminent attack from Christine Bean Cobain, there is something Edna can do to make herself a little more useful and necessary. Since she's not the strongest of women and is but a mere wisp of a girl, she'll contribute to camp life much in the way Cochran likes to contribute to camp life. She'll carry twigs and thimbles full of water while pretending to be in a great hurry to tackle her list of chores. Coach appreciates her willingness to dive right in and help and can often be heard shouting, "Edna, I love you!" through the trees. It's a sweet friendship they have and I do think it's sincere. Remember Edna was the only one human enough to offer to help Coach back on day one. The rest of those selfish bastards left him in the dust. If there's one person on this tribe that Coach can 100% count on for support and loyalty, it's Edna. It's just so unfortunate that she gets lost in a bag of marshmallows and weighs no more than a paperclip!

Over at Savannah, Ozzy has done some soul searching and he's just now realizing that he made a huge mistake when he lost his marbles last night after tribal council. The day he spent all alone is weighing it's toll on him and now he wants to rekindle some of those friendships he destroyed. More importantly, he really wants someone to fan him with a giant palm leaf and feed him grapes like they used to. Energizer Bunny is cool with letting Ozzy back in. I mean, yeah, whatever. That's the Bunny's reaction to everything, "Yeah, whatever." I'll bet he learned that from Ozzy.

Ozzy makes the long embarrassing walk back to his tribe and peering through matted curls, he apologizes for his behavior and says all he wants is unity. Dawn runs over the refrigerator and sticks a gold star right next to Ozzy's name. Tonight he'll be able to play monopoly with the rest of the family instead of having to sit in the corner of the living room with a dunce hate on. Mary Jane, however, isn't so bedazzled by Ozzy's sincerity. He knows Ozzy came to the hard realization that when you alienate everyone you ever had on your side, you end up alone. Cold, miserable, and alone. Mary Jane can also look at the practical side of things. With Ozzy back in the fold, he can help them win challenges until the Merge. And then once at the Merge, Ozzy will have a huge target on his back. What more could Mary Jane ask for?! (weed)

And now we arrive at the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge, teams will race to assemble a wheelbarrow. They will then push the wheelbarrow through a series of obstacles stopping along the way to collect two loads of coconuts. After dumping the coconuts into a trough, the remaining tribe members will then take apart the wheelbarrow and turn it into a sling shot. They'll use the slingshot to fire coconuts at targets. First tribe to knock down all their targets wins Immunity and Reward to the Sliding Rocks. Impala will sit out that toothpick Edna. Survivors ready, go!

Both tribes quickly get to work on assembling their wheelbarrows and both finish at exactly the same time. Brandon and Rancher Rick take off for Impala while Dawn steers Ozzy over to the carpool line at the local school. Impala reaches their coconuts and after Dawn drops the kids off at band practice, Savannah too gets their coconuts. Impala quickly makes their way to the second coconut drop while Dawn is busy fighting with the girl at the register over whether or not she doubled her coupons.

The Impalas successfully dump their nuts in the trough and now it's time for Coach, Mikayla, and Albie to get to work on making that slingshot. The mechanism is pieced together in seconds and Albie immediately begins shooting the targets. Meanwhile, Cochran has his fingers and sweater vest all tangled up in the coconut knots. Ozzy elbows him away and unties the knot himself. It should have been smooth sailing from there, but Special K was on sale and Dawn kept throwing more and more boxes into the wheelbarrow. It was when she threw those 3 for $4 Vitamin Waters in that Ozzy had to take her club card away and put her on a grocery hiatus. The Savannah's somehow manage to make it to their trough, but Cochran's limbs and freckles and things kept getting into the way of the wheelbarrow and those coconuts were like a taxiing airplane. Nothing was coming or going. Everything was just at a standstill. Again, Ozzy had to swoop in and man this plane himself. Finally, they get their nuts in the basket and begin assembling their slingshot.

Both teams are now firing off coconuts and things should be going swimmingly only Mikayla refuses to shoot with two hands and she ends up shooting coconuts all the way to Fiji. Coach tells her to back off. Even Dimples tells her the one hand thing isn't working. Mikayla is in a bra and panty world of her own because she doesn't give a shit what the rest of her tribe is advising her to do. The Impalas quickly lose their lead and, to make matters worse, it turns out that in addition to being a professional poker player and a drug dealer, Mary Jane also excels at slingshotting. If slingshot was an olympic sport, this dude would have the gold medal. There was no beating Mary Jane - especially since that dummy Mikayla kept shooting with her pinky finger. In the end... SAVANNAH WINS IMMUNITY AND REWARD!!!

The Savannahs are immediately whisked away to a very familiar waterfall. Seriously, have I been here before? Have we been here before? I distinctly remember another collection of dirty people hanging out at this same locale. As my memory is about as accurate as someone with advanced Alzheimer's that's as good of an image as I'm able to come up with. Anyhow, the Savannah's are beside themselves. Despite the kerfluffle with Ozzy and his tantrum, it's all love and hugs and kisses. No Ozzy, Dawn will not rub you!

Ozzy makes a cliff dive into a shallow pool of water while Dawn stands on the sidelines and shouts, "You better get your helmet on, young man!" She flitted back and forth spreading sunscreen on everyone and making sure there were enough bologna sandwiches in the basket. "Did you wait 30 minutes before you went swimming Mary Jane?!" Mary Jane rolled his eyes then did a cannonball that soaked the soccer mom. Meanwhile, Cochran paced and went over the pros and cons of playing in the waterfall. He's neither emotionally nor physically capable of swimming with others in the water. Emotionally, he needs his valium. Physically, what if his sweater vest gets caught on a rock? It's just safer of Cochran enjoys the merriment from a safe distance.

Back at Impala the mood is somber and the big question is, who goes home: Mikayla or Edna? As far as Coach is concerned, it's Mikayla. She refused to follow orders and refused to be coached during the challenge. That sort of defiance and attitude is best left off the field and in a penalty box somewhere. On the other hand, Edna will do anything Coach asks - whether that's walking on his back or helping him with his luggage. Personally, I'm leaning towards Coach on this one. I can't get that taste out of my mouth from when Mikayla refused to stand up to Brandon and then later burbled her way through a Tribal Council. I have no use for that! Besides, there's no drama with her. Brandon will quickly find another sin to wrestle with and I can have a field day with that when it happens. For now, Mikayla is just an extra body.

Big strong buff Albie does not agree with my logic as Albie is all about strength and power over loyalty and trust. Albie tells Mikayla that they definitely need to get rid of Edna and if anyone can convince Coach of that, he can. Meanwhile, Mikayla wanders off to sit on a rock and say that Edna is twice her age. What planet is Mikayla from? The one where women wear panties and play football? Edna is only in her 30's! Mikayla makes her sound like she's 75. Whatever. Mikayla piecing together a sentence is like a normal person gnawing on a side of beef. There's a whole lot of masticating going on.

So Albie whisks Rancher Rick and Sophie into the woods and tells them that the scrawny feather sprite Edna will do them no good in challenges down the road. How do you know Albie? Maybe there's a a competition where you have to slither through a narrow opening or live off of a kernel of corn for 2 weeks. You never know what Survivor will throw your way. Sure, Edna is annoying, but I want her around for Coach and at least she has a personality. Every time I look at Mikayla I see corkboard or maybe a cardboard box. There's nothing there for me to mold, nothing for me to play with. With teeny tiny subatomic Edna I get to imagine worlds where watermelons are mountains and bowls of soup are gigantic rivers of boiling yumminess. Can't you just see Edna floating on a tiny carrot in a bowl of chicken soup? I can. She's Honey I Shrunk The Kids come to life! We love Edna!

Albie seems to have succeeded with Sophie and Rancher Rick - despite my cries of "She can use a buf-puf for a bed!" - and now he's moved onto young Brandon. To my surprise, Brandon actually dislikes Edna a great deal. The look on her face is what bugs him the most. How rude! Dude, she's Asian. Get over it. But despite her looks and her arms the size of rice, Brandon made a pledge with God to keep Edna and he intends on honoring that pledge. Brandon you sick son of a bitch. Thank goodness I'm actually agreeing with your convoluted logic this time around. Is there anything I can get you Brandon? I can see by your calf tattoo that you're a fan of SALSA. Would you like some fresh salsa? Let me get you some.

Albie then turns his sights on Coach. This is his one last hurdle to jump over. If he succeeds, Mikayla will stay. Before Albie can even say a word, Coach shush's him and takes all the blame for losing the last challenge. Albie raises an eyebrow and wonders what the hell Coach is talking about. To hear Coach tell it, it's his fault because he couldn't COACH Mikayla. She's UnCOACHable. No matter what he said to her during the challenge, she kept ignoring him. No offense, but a Coach can't have someone unCOACHable on his team. That would be crazy talk. Edna, on the other hand, will shine his shoes or wipe Ozzy's ass if he asks her to. She's COACHable She deserves to stay. *throws hands in air* Makes sense to me!

Now that Coach knows what Albie has been up to, he's forced to go talk to Rancher Rick and make his "Keep pixie Edna" plea. Rancher Rick adjusts his cowboy hat, sticks his hands in his pockets, and chews on a piece of straw while he mulls over the choices before him. And wouldn't you know it? Tonight's entire vote rests in the hands of this mute cowboy. Oy vey. Can't we send him home instead? I only have so many cowboy stereotypes in my repertoire.

This brings us to Tribal Council. Coach immediately says his little tribe is no longer playing as a team. There is a wayward duckling marching to her own drummer. Mikayla rolls her eyes and squenches up her face and I wondered to myself if she thinks that's attractive. All she's ever good for at Tribal is making creepy faces and farting out something that makes no sense. Conversely, "Yay team, go team" player Edna is fine sitting out when asked to sit out. It's for the betterment of the team. Whatever is good for the team, is good for Edna. Now can you please pass her a band-aid? She forgot her winter coat and a band-aid is plenty big to keep her warm on chilly nights as this.

Dimples asks if it's better to go to the merge with strong people who aren't necessarily loyal or loyal people who aren't necessarily strong? Brandon answers, "Ya gotta git thar first. Then ya wanna git thar with law-yull-tee." Ok. Thank you Brandon. *rolls eyes* Albie jumps in and says getting to the Merge with numbers is all that matters. Coming from someone on the inside, I can see his point, but I also know that Cochran and Jim are loose cannons. So, outside looking in, I can't wait for this Merge! I think it's going to be a hodgepodge of crazy and something tells me that Cochran will be dead center of all that crazy.

Coach turns to Dimples and says, "You know what I'm all about. I'm about loyalty, honor, and integrity." Albie interrupts and says that loyalty can be faked while strength can't. Hold up there Albster. I've been in many a gym where I've faked strength to impress a passerby. I'll be huffin' and puffin' and twirling dumbells over my head and then after they pass by I collapse into a small puddle of drool and sweat. Strength can too be faked. So there! Stick that in your pecs and smoke it.

Listening to Albert speak in that monotone way of his begins to make Lil Hantz insane in the membrane and he just can't take it anymore. All this talk about law-yull=tee, law-yull-tee, law-yull-tee is eating him alive! The law-yull-tee was thick last week with Edna and what young Brandon doesn't understand is how in the matter of a couple of days, half the tribe has flipped and turned on Edna. That's not law-yull-tee! That's not god-ability. That's a house divided. That's lasciviousness is what it is! *stands and claps* Nicely done LOCO. Could it be you're actually making some sense or am I going insane? Insane.

In the end, the votes did come down to Rancher Rick and the next person voted out of Survivor South Pacific is Mikayla. I'm good with that. I've only just begun to explore the microscopic wonder that is Edna so... later Mikayla. Good luck on Rhode Island. So what did you guys think? Were you rooting for Edna or Mikayla? Is Coach losing control of his alliance? Who from Savannah might swing over to Impala after the Merge? Or who from Impala might sway? Will you be getting a tattoo that says CHALUPA on your cheek later on today? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

It Ain't Hunky Dory

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 21:17:00 +0000

This little piggy went to market. This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef. And this little piggy had none. This little piggy went "Wee wee wee stop open mouth fondling me you herpified whores!" What were once innocent pecks on the cheeks between mother and son or grandma and grandbaby are now disease ridden, bacteria filled, invitations to a lifelong battle of fighting festering sores. Sadly, the days of sharing lollipops and ice cream cones are over. Had Disney known then what we all know now, those two dogs never would have dared to share that noodle of spaghetti - let alone sit at the same table without a SARS mask covering their noses. It's a filthy world with filthy people engaging in filthy things. Thankfully, we have a man of God who cries more tears than a weeping Virgin Mary statue in a tiny village outside of Bangladesh to keep us straight. Sure, his namesake tattoo says "HATERZ" and he has hooves for feet, but he's herpe-free people! In the grand scheme of things, that's all that really matters. Clean hooves and a blister free existence. Let's recap, shall we?

Our South Pacific journey continues with the arrival of Spacey (Stacey) on Rhode Island (Redemption Island). Christine Baxter Birney stirs from her bed of dried leaves and acorns and asks, "Who is that?" Spacey replies, "Chrispeen Moon Pie, it's me, Scracey. Them snakes ovah de're, up in da hood. Shoooot. Girrrrl, Coach runnin' all up an' things ain't hunky dory. Hunky dory hell no. All y'all gonna go ta hell wit gasoline draw's awn!" I think that translates to, "I'm fine. How are you?" Who the hell knows? The point of the story is this - Spacey is pissed off and now she's gonna start a bees nest with Twinkies and then Yo Gabba Gabba those M'effer's back to where they belong. I have no idea what that means, but this lady cuts people open for a living so guard your broccoli and your socks. That's all we can do. Stock up on pantyhose and saran wrap and wait for Spacey to strike.

A new day dawns and it's a chilly morning over at Impala (Upolu). Not only is that feather sprite Edna huddled by the campfire wrapped in a banana skin, but our Christian representative of Latter Day Demonfolk, Lil Hantz, has a bee in his bonnet and a boner, I mean, bone to pick with that evil temptress Mikayla. You see, last night at Tribal Council, Mikayla blamed Brandon's notoriously evil uncle for this tortured manchild we see before us now. She just can't let it go that young Brandon shares the same bloodline and, as a result, she's having a hard time separating the two in the game. Grandpappy Hantz is not a racehorse Mikayla. He's not a pure bred Scottish Deerhound siring pups to win the Westminster Dog Show who then weasel their way into Survivor for generations to come. Brandon is a potpourri of delusion and insanity all on his very own. Russell was nothing more than a megalomaniac with a Napoleanic Complex whereas Brandon is a kerfluffle of inner demons and angst. It's fine for you to not like Brandon, Mikayla, but you've got to justify it with a little more than, "But but Russell is his uncle!"

So after a long night of prayer, contemplation, and tears, Brandon has circled back to the conclusion that girls in booty shorts simply can't be trusted. One of these days God will strike her down with either a bolt of lightning or a wayward metorite, but until then we've got a duel to attend. Representing Impala, we have Albert and the award winning genealogist Mikayla. Representing Savannah, we have Dawn and some girl we hardly know, Whitney. Whitney is like the Brett Clouser of Survivor South Pacific. Occasionally, we see her peeking out from behind a tree and holding up a hollowed out coconut half to be filled with rice, but, other than that, she's nothing more than a whisper in this game of freaky freakies. If only Survivor were more like the Real Housewives. Either deliver the crazy or you're out!

Our warriors, Christine Diamond Phillips and Spacey, are marched into the arena and it's immediately a hotbed of insanity. Dimples asks Spacey an innocent question about her tribe and I don't know what kind of peyote Christine Cox Arquette is growing over there on Rhode Island, but the technicolor word vomit that spilled out of Spacey's mouth is one for your Survivor scrapbooks. From what I can gather, some guy named Chucky The Cheese likes to tell jokes on Halloween and another guy named Benjamin may or may not have tried to give Spacey a hood. Seeing as Spacey is a black woman and hoods probably don't bring back the best of memories for her, Spacey told Benjamin to, "Keep that hood. Boop!" Therefore, I can only conclude that if this Benjamin character manages to hand out his hoods, a race war will ensue. While I appreciate the warning about this evil milliner, Benjamin, I'm more worried about this Chucky person. Is he a purveyor of cheese or is he made of cheese? If he's made of cheese, I can fight him off with a grater and a ready glass of wine. If he's a maker of cheese, then I fear he could lure me into his cheese factory with nothing more than a cube of extra sharp cheddar or Pecorino on a stick. I need answers Spacey!

Alas, answers I would not get, but you know what I did get? A new nickname! It's time to meet Welch's (Albert). We'll be hearing a lot more about Welch's shortly, but all you need to know for now is that he doesn't care for sour grapes one bit. In fact, they make him sneer and purse his lips. Sour grapes not only don't make a tasty juice, but they're an affront to everything the Welch's brand stands for. One sour grape can ruin the whole bunch.

Alright, for this duel, players will drop a ball down a chute where it'll spiral downward and fall out. Competitors much catch the ball and put it back into the chute. Every few minutes, another ball will be added making them harder to track and harder to catch. The first person who lets a ball hit the floor is out. Survivors ready, go!

Christine Harvey Oswald drops a ball down her chute, Spacey drops a ball down her chute, and we're off! Swirl, swirl, swirl, down go the balls. Christine Ann Womack is deliberate in her timing while Spacey is juggling balls over her head, chucking balls at her old tribemates, and dropping 2,3,4 down the chute at a time. In the stands, Welch's hurled back nice juicy plump ripe grapes and one must have hit Spacey in the head or something because CHRISTINE LEE LEWIS STAYS ALIVE!!!

Back at Impala, Welch's is the bearer of bad tidings. He scurries over to Coach forthwith and tells him all about how Spacey made a big production of calling Coach, "Benjamin." Now, I can see getting upset if Spacey called him "Roach" or "Couch", but "Benjamin" isn't really an insult. And, correct me if I wrong, but isn't Coach, "Benjamin Coach Wade" on Facebook? In the grand scheme of things, Coach is still in the game and Spacey isn't. That's all that matters! Please, if I got upset every time someone called me "Mystic Young Beaver", there wouldn't be enough hours in the day to get anything done. Get over it, move on.

Over at Savannah, the mood is very different. A coquettish scamp named ChickenHawk (Elyse) is draping herself all over our god of the sea, Ozzy, and life is but a dream. The sand is white, the water is aquamarine, a cool breeze blows through the palm trees, and it's just another lazy day in the South Pacific. Meanwhile, a bespectacled gangly fellow is busy carrying a thimble full of twigs back to camp. If Cochran can't win at challenges and can't lie supine with the ladyfolk fanning him with giant leaves, then he'll be the camp's housekeeper and make himself impossible to vote off. ChickenHawk nonchalantly places her hand on Ozzy's thigh as she throws her head back and laughs, "You're the little Cochran that could!" She walks her fingers one by one up the inside of Ozzy's shorts while Ozzy swats them away and asks Cochran how it is he spells his name. While the public handjob was mildly uncomfortable for Cochran to witness, this questioning of how to spell his name is positively nightmarish. There's only reason to want to know how to spell his name and that's to write it down at Tribal Council. Cochran drops his thimble of twigs, tells Ozzy not to worry his pretty little head about things like spelling or phonetics, and is thankfully interrupted by Dawn who is just dying to gossip all about Rhode Island.

Dawn Dawn the soccer mom tells her tribe how the Impala's aren't targeting the weak at all. Instead, they're targeting everyone who's anti-Coach. She thinks she's giving her tribe valuable information when, in fact, the look on Ozzy's face is one of, "Shut up!" Trust me, the last thing Ozzy wants is everyone thinking that going after a vet is a good idea. Without thinking, he blurts out, "If Coach is smart, he'll get rid of Welch's soon." Mary Jane's (Jim) eyebrows do a 180 and he asks, "Why would you get rid of Welch's?!" Thankfully, motormouth Dawn was still talking about all the new recipes she got down at the hair salon so no one really heard (or paid attention to) Mary Jane's question. Mary Jane, however, thinks Ozzy revealing that if he were Coach, he'd get rid of Welch's before the Merge is very telling. The equivalent to someone like Welch's at Savannah is Mary Jane or Keith. Does this mean one of them could be next on Ozzy's list? Mary Jane and his dead eyes smile with this new knowledge as he calmly puts it in his pocket and begins to make plans for ChickenHawk's departure.

Back at Impala, Welch's has spent the entire day playing and replaying everything that went on at Rhode Island over and over again in his mind. Out of all the things to worry about on Survivor, the lunatic rantings of a woman on her way out are pretty low down on the list in my mind. Welch's, however, is more concerned than ever about his well being now and worries that, come Merge time, he'll be a huge target. He decides then and there that it's in his best interest to go looking for the Hidden Immunity Idol and make sure he has an insurance plan for down the road. Hey, I agree. Get the Idol. Everyone should be hunting for that damn Idol. The second you get to camp, you should be searching for that thing. You can't be obnoxious about it like Christine Barrett Browning, Kristina (one of my favorite bitches of all time), or Nanook was, but you should definitely make a little time everyday to start looking. That's what I would do. Then again, I'd also smuggle a flask in my hoo-ha and have extensions made out of Twizzlers woven into my hair beforehand. So, you know, whatevs.

With the heat bearing down on his back, Welch's moseys this-a-way and that-a-way wondering where that Idol could be. He walks by a tree, looks down, and boom! - he finds the clue. It says a whole lot of mumbo jumbo about the tides and trees and the Idol being out of reach. I'm no wizard, but I think that translates to "The Idol is up in a tree on the beach." Compared to other clues in the past that have read, "The Idol is somewhere in your camp.", it's pretty specific. With a pair of snorkle goggles strapped to his head, Welch's swings from limb to limb and searches tree after tree after tree. If you've seen one South Pacifican tree, you've seen them all. The leaves begin to jumble, the branches entwine into mazes of confusion, and it's all too much for an innocent grape boy to take. Welch's then decides to enlist the help of his good friends Coach and Sophie. *smacks self in head* Welch's, no! What good is Coach or Sophie finding the Idol going to do for you? If they find it, it's their Idol.

So, the Three Stooges separate and each goes off into a different direction. Coach carefully combs the beach and after a thorough search of one or two trees, he too decides that he is in need of assistance. However, the assistance he seeks isn't from another tribe member. It's from a much higher power - God. With a few choice words to his lord and savior and another ascension up a tree, Coach finds the Idol and not a thing in the world can wipe the smile off his face. Fire may represent life to Dimples, but this Idol represents life to Coach. When all hope seemed lost and that nasty cloud of "Benjamin" was hanging over his head, God took the time out of his busy schedule and turned that frown upside down. Wasn't that nice of Him?

Over at Savannah, Cochran is continuing his "I am valuable!" bar tour and is about to embark on a little fishing escapade with Ozzy. If he uses his hands thoughtfully, he too can deliver our monkey boy a handjob before the day is through. First off, what's up with the tribes having boats? A reader sent me a Facebook message a while ago asking, "Hey Lala, why do these a-holes have friggin' boats?" I paraphrased that a little as I like to give the impression that all of my readers are hell raising hooligans. I replied, "I do not know milady, but please do not curse around me." I never heard back from her so I can only assume she lives in a town like in Footloose and was arrested for not only dancing on tables topless, but for cursing like a sailor.

Ozzy reluctantly tosses Cochran into the boat and off they go in search of sustenance. I'm not sure what Cochran did the whole time, but I know Ozzy pontificated a whole hell of a lot about how fishing is oh so hard. His fingers get pruny, his hair frizzes, it takes forever for his shorts to dry, and underwater is a handjob-free environment which, if you're Ozzy, is the purest form of torture. Once Ozzy spears his bounty, he takes the long sea god walk back to shore. It's a funny walk with slow strides, a spear in one hand, and fish in the other. The womenfolk awaiting on the beach squeal and cheer as he approaches while Cochran rolled his eyes in the background and promptly tumbled over the side of the boat. With the rest of the camp feeding Ozzy grapes one by one, Cochran crawls onto shore and glares at all the laziness in anger. The jealousy is running deep within Cochran, but he needs to keep it in check. Yes, Ozzy is everything Cochran isn't, but Ozzy isn't invincible. Let him get comfortable. Let him feel safe. Play along. He'll get what he deserves soon enough.

And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge or what I like call Herpe Haven. What you are about to witness my friends is an exercise in lust and gluttony. In the center of the challenge area stands Dimples with an evil little smile on his face. "Come on in guys!", he giggles to himself. And then we see it, two giant pig carcasses hanging on a spit just waiting to be devoured. Drool begins to drip down Rancher Rick's chin while Ozzy thinks to himself, "I could have killed that... if I wanted to." For today's challenge, each tribe, with their hands tied behind their back, will take bites out of their pigs and then spit the bites into a basket. Tribe members might be tempted to eat the piggy, but they'll risk losing the challenge. The tribe who has the most meat in their basket wins Immunity plus a Reward of veggies, spices, and bread. Survivors ready, go!

I fully expected the spitting out of the meat to be kind of gross, but what I didn't expect was a delicious display of lovemaking. It wasn't exactly Mickey Rourke and Kim Basinger in 9 1/2 Weeks - ham doesn't have that sexy thang that honey does - but there was a lot of licking and biting and sucking and spitting. Dawn the soccer mom dove right into Keith's tonsils, Edna tongue wrestled a little bit with Coach, and even Rancher Rick got a tad frisky with Brandon. But it was when Mikayla stood helpless with a piece of pork belly hanging from her teeth that I surprised myself by shouting, "Brandon, here's your chance!" Right there, in the middle of all the meat flying and the sauce dripping, Brandon finally got to do what he's wanted to do for so so long. He got all up in that bitch! Hoo yeah! Way to go buddy. I don't know why, but I was happy for young Hantz in that moment. Maybe now that it's all out of his system and Mikayla is nothing more than another chick with ham in her teeth, he'll stop being such a weirdo and get his head back in the game.

In the end, no matter how much phlegm Mary Jane deposited into the Savannah's basket (barf), it wasn't enough to beat those Impalas. Was it the bite Rancher Rick dropped in the dirt and Mikayla stopped to pick up that made the difference? I don't know, but... IMPALA WINS IMMUNITY!!! Better yet, they win all the spit-covered meat they could ever want.

While the Impalas are enjoying a feast of ham, spit, mucus, the Savannah's are sad little monkeys. Dawn swiffers the camp looking for the other half of her molar while ChickenHawk sat bitching about the breakouts that are inevitable in her near future. Cochran scoffs and says, "You think breakouts are bad? We're all going to have oral herpes tomorrow." *stifles giggles* I still have no idea if he was being serious or just being a total dick, but that shit was funny. There's nothing like putting the fear of an incurable sexually transmitted disease into your fellow tribemates to promote tribe unity. Naturally, everyone else is horrified, but Cochran isn't finished! He goes on to tell his tribe that 99.9% of people have herpes. LOL As this is a very scientific blog, I googled, "How many people have herpes?" The answer is 1 in 6 - which, quite honestly, is just as bad as 99.9%. I had no idea the number was that high. Gross. Well, it's a good thing Cochran isn't a med student. At least there's that.

After Cochran essentially calls his tribe a gaggle of whores, he peeks out from behind his glasses and asks, "Anyone want me to open them a coconut? I'm getting really good at it." No way! You probably touched your mouth to pick out some meat and then you'll touch the machete and then the machete will touch the coconut and it'll be a herpified free for all! That's how those canteloupe people died you know. Slicing through the bacteria. I don't know if ChickenHawk was pissed off by the herpes remark or what, but the second Cochran turns his back, she mocks him for trying so hard. And, let's face it, he is. It's painfully obvious he's sucking up to the very people he hates and it makes me cringe every time he does it. Running around cleaning up after people, doesn't make you valuable. It makes you weak. Don't get me wrong, I like Cochran and I'm kind of rooting for him. I just wish he'd stop being so obvious.

With Cochran off dusting the trees and borrowing Dawn's Swiffer, Ozzy tells his alliance to vote for Cochran at Tribal Council. Thankfully, Dawn has the wherewithal to question this decision and immediately goes to Cochran to tell him that ChickenHawk needs to go home tonight. Cochran takes it to Mary Jane and now it's up to Mary Jane to get that 4th vote they need. He approaches the Energizer Bunny with the intel about Ozzy saying Coach should get rid of Welch's and the Bunny agrees that ChickenHawk needs to go. For some reason though, that freaky bunny wants to actually tell Ozzy about the ChickenHawk plan. He's scared Ozzy won't trust him anymore. To that I say, "Who cares!" Ozzy not only has the majority right now, but he also has the Idol. Remember, Energizer Bunny knows about the Idol. If you're going to go so far as to vote out a member of your alliance, you might as well go balls to the wall and continue on the path that will cripple Ozzy. Take away his paramour and then, maybe next week, take away his Idol. Easy peasy.

We arrive at Tribal Council and - boo hoo - everyone cut their lips on the meat! Oh please, I broke my freaking toe yesterday and I walk like the gentleman in the above photo now. Then again, zombies are the new vampires. Hot. Anyhow, don't bitch to me about how you bit your lip while face first in a hog's ass while competing for a million dollars. That's like me saying I got a paper cut entering the Publisher's Clearing House. Talk to me when you've got a penis fish or your fingers melted off.

I hate to do this because you know how I love my tribals, but real life is intervening and I've got to cut this one short today. In the end, it came down to ChickenHawk thinking they should keep the tribe strong, Cochran bitching about not wearing his retainer, and Dawn asking Dimples if he knows anyone in casting over at Extreme Couponing. With 2 votes for Cochran, 2 votes for Dawn (Keith you pussy!), and 3 votes for ChickenHawk. ChickenHawk is the 5th person voted out of Survivor South Pacific.

So, what did you guys think of last night's episode? Should Welch's have told Coach and Sophie about the Idol clue? Is God looking out for Coach? Will Mikayla give birth to a short stocky daughter who likes to play sports in her underwear? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

Scrambling Like Scrambled Eggs

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 06 Oct 2011 13:10:00 +0000

Sonja Morgan said it best when she peered through her lazy whiskey eyes and declared, "There is a pecking order." In New York, in life, and even in the South Pacific, a giant chicken in the sky sits and waits to peck us all off of our pedestals one by one by one. You, the tiny shy one, buk buk buk b'kaw! You, the spindly nerdy one, buk buk buk b'kaw! And down tumble the weak and feeble. Not so fast Chicken Little. When you have a soldier of God marching around with "GUACAMOLE" tattooed on his shin, pecking orders get shuffled, friends become enemies, lying is verboten, and the tangy taste of tears taints even the juiciest of fruits. This carnival of chaos, this house of mirrors if you will, is officially open. Come one, come all. Today's special is scrambled eggs. Grab your bibles and your pitchforks. Let's recap, shall we?

For the sake of today's blog, I took a very scientific approach in choosing Elyse's new nickname. I plugged her full name into the Native American Name Generator and it pooped out Makawee Liluye which means "Mothering Singing Chicken Hawk That Soars.". In the interest of brevity, Elyse will henceforth be known as ChickenHawk. Too bad her name isn't Colette Lala though. Mystic Young Beaver has a nice ring to it. Naturally, I expect each and every one of you to tell me your Native American Name in the comments.

We continue our South Pacific nightmare on Savannah (Savai'i) where a gentle breeze blows and a wide-eyed ChickenHawk (Elyse) stares in awe at our glistening sea god, Ozzy. "Were you always so big and strong and outdoorsy?", she coos. "Uh, no", he replies. She whispers, "Really? Wow. How did you pick it up you big strong sexy hunk of man meat?" Meanwhile, lurking creepily in a nearby tree sits Mary Jane (Jim). Through blank eyes and a toothy grin, Mary Jane wonders if perhaps there is more to the ChickenHawk/Ozzy friendship than he initially thought. Maybe they're tighter than the "3+2-an ounce of the finest Northern Lights this side of Amsterdam" plan. ChickenHawk was always supposed to be peripheral eye candy. She was never meant to be inside the circle of trust. Mary Jane buffs his teeth with a cloth soaked in Clorox and decides he has no choice now but to plot her demise. He can't do it alone though. He'll need a partner.

Enter Cochran. Standing in the leaves being mistaken for a twig, Cochran. Mary Jane approaches and reveals how he thinks Ozzy might be secretly targeting him in effort to appear "invaluable" to the tribe. It's a flimsy reason crafted out of thin air, cotton candy, and dreams. Ozzy is already invaluable to the tribe and it has nothing to do with whether or not Mary Jane is in the game or back at home dealing weed to all those damn hippies. Cochran doesn't trust Mary Jane as far as he can throw him (2 inches), but he likes hearing other people's names come up for discussion and ChickenHawk is as good a name as any. Mary Jane's grand master flash plan is to get rid of ChickenHawk and cripple Ozzy. Apparently, ChickenHawk is the calcium in Ozzy's bones and without her he'll be reduced to using a walker with tennis balls on the bottom of it for the rest of his life (and a Rascal for long distance traveling). Cochran and Mary Jane engage in some gentle sparring and a deal is made. Mary Jane gets to call himself an architect for another few days (alright, Costanza) and Cochran gets to slither his way out of the Not So Beautiful People group. It's a win-win.

Over at Impala (Upolu) an ominous bell tolls in the distance. Ding, Dong, Ding, Dong. A bat flies out of the belfry as young Brandon sits in the smoke of a dying campfire dwelling on the game he's voluntarily put himself into. It all seemed so innocent on TV - so godlike and so fun! But now, here, in it - its nothing but balls of fire, thorny women, and a feast of lies. After much contemplation and prayer, Lil Hantz has decided that from here on out he will play the game of Survivor free of lies and deception. His mission now is one of truth, justice, and the American way. First things first, Brandon has to undo all the evil he's already done. First up is an apology to Mikayla. "I let my loins, I mean temper, get a hold of me. I shouldn't a done that." Mikayla nods quietly to herself and blames Brandon's behavior on his famous uncle which makes about as much sense as playing football in your underwear.

Brandon crosses "Apollagize to that hore" off of his list and then heads off to make amends to another unsuspecting victim. It's that tiny sprite Edna sitting all by herself in the hut. Brandon sits across from her, takes a deep breath, and says, "I know I'm screwing this up for myself, but you should know that the people you trust hate you and want you dead. Sorry you had to hear it from me. Friends?" Edna blinks a few times and responds, "So I'm not in an alliance of 6?" Already feeling the goodness well up inside of him, Brandon exclaims, "Nope!" He waves goodbye to a weeping Edna and skips off into the distance. Once alone, he crosses "Crush Edna's sole" off of his list. This "being good" stuff is a piece of cake. God must be super proud of him now!

Over on Savannah a very strange basket of bathing suits arrives along with a tree mail telling them to send two people to Rhode Island (Redemption Island) to witness the duel. I call the basket o'suits "strange" because, and correct me if I'm wrong, haven't the Survivors always had bathing suits to wear? I realize my memory is about as accurate as all of Mary Jane's clients, but I swear I've seen Survivors in bathing suits before. Anyhow, everyone's got a spankin' new suit and poor soccer mom Dawn is beginning to feel the weight of her age. I'm not sure why a flattering pair of boy shorts makes her feel older than a Warren Jeff's skirt does, but, hey, to each her own.

In the meantime, Mary Jane is busy coming up with another looney smoke and mirrors plan to make the Impala's think that the Savannah's are weak. It's has something to do with the Pythagorean theorem and the price of cheese of Wisconsin. Who knows? Ozzy half listens to what Mary Jane is saying then stretches catlike and yawns, "No strategy. Chill out bro." ChickenHawk giggles and smacks Ozzy on the ass. "Oh you!", she exclaims. Dawn catches Ozzy mocking Mary Jane and wonders to herself if maybe "No strategy" really means "Yes strategy". Her no muss no fuss hairdo is telling her that Ozzy has probably been strategizing all along. He just doesn't like it when others strategize. You could be onto something there Dawnie Pooh.

And this brings us to the big duel at Rhode Island. It's Christine Rachel Wood v. Nurse Jackie (Mark). We have Brandon and Edna representing Impala and Cochran and Mary Jane representing Savannah. Before the battle to the death can begin, Brandon has some business to take care of if you don't mind. "Christine Marie Combs, I'm a man o' God now and I'd like to 'pologize fer my behavior. I played ruthless but I've turned over a new testicle, I mean leaf. I hope you do well." Young Hantz smiles to himself and begins crossing off "Tell that old lady I feels bad" from his list. Before he can finish, Christine Ian Black says, "I don't know if I buy it." Like Joan Crawford discovering a wire hanger in the closet, Brandon's lips go thin and the list begins to crinkle in his hands. Edna slowly shifts away while Brandon tries to nonchalantly hide the steam coming out of his nose. Oh dear. Looks like we're back to square one.

For today's duel, players will toss sandbags onto crates. The first person to successfully get one bag on each of the ten crates will live to see another day. The losery loser gets to go home. Survivors ready, go!

The bags begin a' flying and both players land their first crate. Christine Michel Basquiat shoots flawlessly up to her fifth bag while Nurse Jackie began screwing up at bag two. Toss, toss, toss, Nurse Jackie finally begins to make some headway, but in the end it was too little too late. CHRISTINE PATRICK FLANNERY STAYS ALIVE!!!

We bid you adieu Nurse Jackie. The odds were never in your favor when you ended up on Savannah. You probably would have lasted a hell of a lot longer had you been on Impala. Sorry buddy. Laters. And uh, shoot some scrips my way when you get a chance.

Back at Impala, Edna has decided to take it upon herself to win her way back into the tribe's good graces. With a smile on her face and a song in her heart, she tries to wrestle the shirt off of Rancher Rick's back in an effort to wash it. "You want me to wash it? I'll wash it. It feels stiff. I should wash it. Here, give it to me. Scrub, scrub, scrub - that's my middle name! Tee hee hee. And later, sucky sucky!" A wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over me as I watched Edna flit back and forth making coffee, giving manicures, polishing grains of sand, and laughing at unsaid jokes. Spacey (Stacey) and I looked at one another and just shook our heads. Coach, however, finagled a massage out of it all and I'm willing to bet there was a happy ending involved. Good for you Coach!

So while Rick was getting scrubbed and Coach was getting rubbed, Spacey said more words than I've ever heard her say in the history of Survivor South Pacific. Please to enjoy: "It just lahk ricocheted an' ran an' the girl go awn an' awn an' awn an' awn. D'she have a off switch? Ah don't think she have a off switch. She nee' ta be disconnected. Dat wut she nee' ta be! Dis-co-nected." Spacey, where have you been all my life? That was beauteous.

Meanwhile, with her broken 'off' switch, Edna moved to the water and is now sucking on the teat of Mikayla. Sure, she had to fight Brandon off with a stick, but she got there and now she's going to milk it for all it's worth. Pun intended. "Are you a model? What do you model for? TV, print, books, magazines, porn, movies, sides of buildings, what? Tell me. You're on the cover of things? That's so cool! I'll have to go look for it. Oh my god, I should get your autograph. It's neat when models do model-ly things cuz I could never be a model, but you're a model and wow I can't believe I know you. For real! Sucky sucky?" I'm sad we missed the conversation where she pestered Rancher Rick on how to kill a buffalo, but if I use my powers of imagination I think it would go something like this: "Oh my god you killed a buffalo? Really? That's so cool! What did you kill it with? Did you give it a name? If I could name a buffalo, I'd name it Sparky. Isn't that funny? Sparky. Haha hee hee! How many bullets did it take to kill Sparky? Did he cry? Oh my god did you make hamburgers out of him? I'll bet those were delicious. I only eat birdseed and blades of grass, but that sounds yum. Take me hunting with you one day, Rick. Sucky sucky?"

Over at Savannah, Cochran has finished the complicated math equation of 1+1=2. It is numerically impossible for him and Mary Jane to get ChickenHawk out of the tribe with only two people on their side. They need to pull in others and that batshit crazy lady running around clipping coupons and getting the kids ready for the talent show looks like a good possibility. Cochran tells Dawn that he doesn't think Mary Jane is ready to get rid of Ozzy just yet. Dawn whispers, "ChickenHawk!" And there you go. Cochran and Mary Jane now have a third. Only, don't tell them that 3 is less than 4 (Ozzy, ChickenHawk, Whitney, Energizer Bunny (Keith)) or else tonight's meatloaf could get burnt. But hey, it's a good start. The scales of justice are slowly beginning to tip in the underdog's favor.

And now we arrive at the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge three members of each tribe will stand with a pole across their shoulders. In each round, weight will be added to that pole. The decision about which tribe member gets that weight will be made by the opposing tribe. When the weight becomes too much to bear and your pole drops, you're out of the challenge. Last person standing wins Immunity and a Reward of live poultry for their tribe. Survivors ready, go!

For Impala, we have Lil Hantz, Albert, and Spacey. For Savannah, we have Mary Jane, Energizer Bunny, and Dawn (huh?). Both tribes start by targeting the strongest: Albert and Energizer Bunny. Brandon and Mary Jane get picked next with Spacey and Dawn picked last. With the magic of television, time elapses and Brandon and Mary Jane quickly acquire over 200 lbs each. Faces grimacing, leg shaking, this is clearly a "Who wants it more?" challenge. But hark! Is that an ass shelf I see? Shoulders schmoulders! Spacey is taking the "bootay" route and resting that pole right on the junk in her trunk. And it's not booty, it's bootay I'll have you know. I like big butts and I cannot lie...

Poor Energizer Bunny has a bum ticker and a small ass so it's no surprise that he falls first. What was surprising, however, was the quick exit of Albie. I figured with his chesticles, he'd breeze through this and be the hero of the day. But alas, it wasn't meant to be. Kaboom! Buh bye Albert. I was sad to see him fall, but I was also thrilled to witness his anger. "Dammit! Dammit!", he bellowed. That's the most we've heard out of Albert all season! Time ticks on and bootay master Spacey seems to have things under control, but Mary Jane and Brandon are struggling. Mary Jane can't stop growling and I think all the weight has made Brandon a few inches shorter. Spindly Dawn begins swaying in the wind and I'm pleasantly surprised by her determination.

The weight continues to grow and like dominoes the last of the men are out. We're now down to Spacey and her badonkadonk and Dawn and her... uh cardigan and knee high socks. I figured with Spacey's caboose we'd be here til next Tuesday, but it wasn't meant to be. If you hadn't seen it for yourself you wouldn't believe me, but DAWN WINS IMMUNITY!!! Wow. Victory well deserved, lady. Now, when's dinner gonna be ready?

Back at Impala, the mood isn't all that sparkly, but Spacey is confident. Her ass kicked some ass in that challenge and there's clearly no reason to keep that chatterbox birch twig Edna around, right? Coach gathers his team in the locker room and delivers a moving speech of inspiration, "Let's not get down. We'll uh keep our heads up and we'll live to see another day. Onward and upward. Be aggressive. B-E Aggressive. What's good for the goose is good for the gander. (Oh Sheila) You're in good hands with Allstate. Break!"

Spacey may be confident, but Edna is not. A little tiny voice on her shoulder is telling her that there is a chance she could be going home tonight. She turns to Spacey for advice and Spacey looks at her like she has 3 heads and a tail. Good thing for us Spacey is about to air her grievances, "Edna is awn a easter egg hunt! She is scrambling like scrambled eggs in a hot skillet right about now. Whatdyou think? You ain't tawked ta me since day one! Now all of a sudden you wanna tawk to me!" At home I said "Hmm mmm, you go girl." "And them bones, bones, bones, skeleton too much, you can't win with all bones. Too many bones." I'm not exactly sure what she was saying there, but I waved a lighter back and forth anyways.

After some deep thought Spacey decides she "gotta lie to kick it". I think that translates to "mess with these triflin' fools heads". And mess with them she does! Her target is the saintly young Hantz. In one swift motion, she tells him to watch his back and that his alliance isn't all it's cracked up to be. Brandon panics and asks, "You mean Sophie, Albert, and Mikayla?" Spacey stands in stony silence. Well, that's as good as a "yessiree bob" as far as Lil Hantz is concerned. He runs to Coach and reports that their alliance is imploding. They're all plotting! Mayday! Mayday! Coach smacks himself in the head and, in a very un-Coach like way shouts, "Stop it! Just stop it!" *giggles* It was awesome! Things like common sense, logical thinking, and connecting the dots prove to be way too much for Brandon to absorb so he gets up and walks away from Coach, but not without leaving him with one last little dig. Brandon asks, "Tell me, how many people have screwed you the past two times you played this game?" How dare you! See, now if that were me, Brandon would have been history. Not only was it a slimy thing to say, but it reeked of untrustworthiness. You can't trust people who have digs in their pocket ready to throw at you. Coach should have slit his throat right then and there. I really hope that keeping this punk kid around doesn't screw up Coach's game. For an alliance based on trust, it looks more like a colander than the Prudential Rock Of Gibraltar.

And now we arrive at Tribal Council. Spacey defends her performance in the challenge while Coach nods in agreement and says she has the "warrior spirit". The conversation turns to strength and I kind of hoped someone would flick Edna into the fire with their fingertips, but instead Sophie talked about physcial strength versus strength in numbers. Now, I don't know if Dimples was bored with the way the conversation was going, but he started questioning everyone on what they find most annoying in one another. It was weird and unnecessary. The only thing accomplished by it was getting Albert and Rancher Rick to say a couple of words. Other than that, not a fan of the word games, Dimples.

When it came Mikayla's turn to speak she said that Brandon was a "good boy", but he's got that evil Hantz blood running through his veins. First off, wake the fuck up Mikayla. I mean, seriously. Your career is knocking people down with brute force. Why are you so squirrely when it comes to sitting around the campfire? Is it the flames? Is it Dimples? Is it that story about the golden hand? Tell me!

Thankfully, the flames don't make young Brandon clam up. As a matter of fact, the flames are a reminder of all the evil he's witnessed. Burning, burning, smoldering evil. Fire and brimstone evil. The fiery embers glow and out comes Brandon's word vomit. In the form of tears. Hurray! "Temptation. I love my uncle with all my heart. Boobies. I'm proud to be a Hantz. Sucky sucky. I just want to be someone that God is proud of." *sniffle sniffle* Seriously kid, you've got issues.

After a vote I don't entirely agree with, Spacey is the 4th person voted out of Survivor South Pacific. So, what do you guys think? Should Edna have been voted out instead? Will Brandon eventually turn on Coach? Can Mary Jane and Cochran reel in any more new alliance members? What's your Native American name? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

Keep Me Outta The Drama

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 13:57:00 +0000

God. Survivor's 19th player. In Nicaragua, He was kind and forgiving. Whether under the cover of night or in the daytime's gentlest breeze, He whispered to the Pretty Pony (Matt Elrod) with words of encouragement and even held his hoof through his darkest hours. Well, it's one year later and the South Pacific isn't Nicaragua, bitches. This year's God is angry and vengeful. He's had one too many beers at the company picnic and now He's looking for an ass to beat. Lie and that knowing glare of His beats down from above and invades your very being. No New Testament-y puppy petting God here, folks. This is an old man with a beard, finger pointing in anger, thunder dancing all around Old Testament God. All of those filthy dirty thoughts swirling around your head and nether regions that you thought were secret, aren't. You think just because you're in another time zone than Texas that God can't see you? Well, think again. God has watched you fantasize about undressing Mikayla with your teeth. He's seen how you look at her with lust in your eyes and drool on your t-shirt. Repent ye of weak heart, repent! Those sins of the flesh you replay in your mind all day and all night will not go unpunished. You can count on that. Let's recap, shall we?

The night is thick and the moon is high. Swatting at the trees and cursing under her breath, Christine Romijn Stamos makes her way to Rhode Island (Redemption Island). There, in a rickety hut of twigs and stanzas, sleeps the poet laureate of the South Pacific. For crying out loud Christine Michael Murray, don't wake her! As Christine Thurman Hawke is about as dainty as a bulldozer, she bellows, "Hello?!" and up rises Hoops (Semhar).

Hello?
Cello
Did I hear a bel-low?
Are you wearing yellow?
Come lay here, it's mellow.

Oh Jesus. Christine Flynn Boyle just sort of stares at Hoops and wonders if madness is a byproduct of Rhode Island. Is this like a Cast Away thing? Will she be talking in iambic pentameter to volleyballs at the end of 72 hours as well? Christine Thorne-Smith nods politely to Hoops and then launches into a tirade about that fat old Coach not liking her and being the reason for her demise. Really Christine Lee Jones, really? It had nothing to do with that snarky, "They're only temporary players." comment you made on minute one, hour one, day one? Come on! Even Ozzy wouldn't let a comment like that go unpunished. You're the only reason you're stuck in the Land Of Limericks, not Coach.

Over at Impala (Upolu), the tribe is returning from their first tribal council and boy was it a doozy. Some members are just happy they survived it while others are more confused than anything else. Evil temptress Mikayla is perplexed why Brandon hates her so. She works hard, she contributes, she keeps to herself, she slowly stretches one tan leg after the other while straddling a giant tree trunk with her boy shorts clinging to her ass like they were painted on... what could she have possibly done to anger the young country bumpkin?! Speaking of Brandon, he was 150% sure that Mikayla was going home so the fact that she's still slithering around camp in her tank top is freaking him out like you wouldn't believe. Saying your 150% sure about anything is just silly. That's like saying your eleventeenth percent sure about something. I'll bet Brandon just assumed that as the all knowing, all powerful, 19th player, God would just smite Mikayla from the game with a flick of His wrist and that would be that. Brandon never imagined that God would actually allow that harlot to stick around. Woe is the game that tempts his innocent soul! He's only been there for 4 days and already he's turning into to his evil uncle. Brandon wanted to lead by example. He wanted to be someone to look up to. Instead, he's all tangled up in this garden of devils and can't figure out how to break free.

A new day dawns and with that our first Rhode Island duel. Coach and Spacey (Stacey) are there to represent Impala while Ozzy and Elyse are there for Savannah (Savai'i). Our contestants march in and apparently all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Hoops back together again cuz she looks pissed. Christine David Chapman was more like, "Ugh, can we get this over with so I can continue scrubbing the sonnets off the sides of the hut?" Dimples, however, is in a chatty mood and he wants to know all about what goes on at Rhode Island. Luckily, Hoops has penned a haiku about it.

Rhode Island nightmare
Alone with my poetry
Suicidal, yes

So, there you go. Hoops doesn't care for Rhode Island one bit.

Today's duel will require concentration and balance. Players will place a wooden totem on top of a pole. At regular intervals they will add another section of pole making it more difficult to keep stable. If your totem falls off, you're out of the game forever. Survivors ready? Oh wait, hang on, Hoops is poetizing again...

Rhode Island, what have you done to me?
The bones of my body belong in a cemetery
Dance, I can no more
Won't somebody please come knock on my door?
I will have all 10 of his babies
He doesn't have to know I have rabies
Forever my secret
Forever I'll keep it
What you call foam at the mouth
is my art - my north, my south
Word vomit
Step on it
Ja-ja-ja jam it on the one
Shoot it with a gun
Nonstop, prolific
I can't get no more specific
Calgon, take me away
To another time, another day

I think she's done. Oh wait, nope...

And then for my boo
I give you my word poo
Abracadabra, tada!
Next season should be in Grenada.

Ok, I think we can start now.

Enchilada, empanada
I will be your beef tostada

SHUT. UP. For the love of all that is holy, shut up! Roses are red, violets are fuck off and shut up. Shall I compare thee to a shut up? Gather ye shut ups while ye may. Please go gentle into that good shut up. O me, O life - shut up!

After Dimples stifled his giggles and Coach managed to bang his eyeballs back down from inside of his skull, the duel finally began and apparently there just aren't enough rhymes in the world to keep Hoops in this game. Whatever entity or spirits she hoped to invoke ran away and hid in the corner instead. In their place a violent gust of wind took over and toppled her totem pole to the ground. Tumble, tumble, down, down, down. Like her pole, came the tears. Tumble, tumble, down, down, down. All she can do now is wear a frown.

Plop, plop
My tears won't stop
Abandoned by my tribe
I can only continue to scribe
Never mind the fact that I suck at challenges and can't put coconuts into a basket.

I'm going to go on record and that say that that poem wasn't one of her best. The last line didn't even rhyme! Loser. So, after giving Christine Dice Clay her feather pen and beret, Hoops sauntered off into the distance to where, I hope, there's an olden timey oven and a copy of The Colossus waiting for her.

With Mother Goose gone from the game, let's check in on how Lil Hantz is doing. Over at Impala, God is giving young Brandon one hell of an ass whooping. "I chastise thee! Now go clean up that paint in the garage!" It wasn't pretty. Unshaven and shaken, Brandon stared into the flames of the fire wondering what he can do to make his family love him again. He lied. On national tv, in the game of Survivor, he lied and the Hantz clan is probably ripping up his birth certificate as we speak. With the flames of the fire reflecting in his eyes and the sweat dripping down his back, Brandon makes the decision to take off his shirt right then and there in front of everyone. He doesn't want any drama, but can everyone please gather round and check out all his Hantz tattoos? This one says LIL HANTZ. This one over here says PERRA. That one on his lower back says HANTZ FO' LIFE. The one on the back of his neck for some reason says HATZ. This one on his ankle says HANTZ WEAR NO PANTS. And this enormous long horn on his chest? Well, nevermind that one. That's just the symbol of a god he used to worship. It's not "Hantz-ian" in origin.

After Brandon is done giving a tour of "Tattoos I Got From A Drunk Guy", he announces, "My name is Brandon Hantz. I'm Russell Hantz's nephew. I'm not the same person that he is." Clearly. Russell knew how to play Survivor. You don't! Coach just sort of smacked his own forehead while Sophie sat and said, "Why does that one say HATZ?" Spacey tells him it's all water on top of the bridge and I sort of scratched my head at that one. Meanwhile, Mikayla is sick of Brandon's excuses and apologies for everything. Every time he gets himself into hot water there's another tattooed excuse for why he did what he did. "I tripped during the challenge because I'm LOCO", "I told a lie because my last name is HATZ. I mean, HANTZ.", "I want to ride you like a goat, Mikayla, because there's a goat on my chest." Enough! Look, I've got a tattoo of a gin bottle on my ass and you don't see me using that an excuse. Wait, what?

Over at Savannah, the scene is very different. Sun God Ozzy emerges from the sea, a net in one hand and a speared shark in the other. "I've brought sustenance for ye beautiful people!", he announces. Whitney, Elyse, Keith, and Mary Jane (Jim) all run to the shore and dance around him in a circle. They throw flower petals in his path and crown his luscious locks with a string of posies. Meanwhile, Nurse Jackie (Mark) sits alone in his hammock and observes the scene from a distance. Camp life is good, but the pecking order isn't at all in his favor. You see, there are the Beautiful People and the Not So Beautiful People (Nurse Jackie, Dawn, Cochran). The Beautiful People have hair that blows in the wind. The Not So Beautiful People have hair on their backs. The Beautiful People glisten in the sun with their pecs and their breasts. The Not So Beautiful People bury their heads in the sand and fear more freckles. This clear divisiveness worries Nurse Jackie. He's knows it's only a matter of time before his name comes up for discussion. For some reason though, he's just not clicking with the people of Savannah. Back at home, he's the life of the party. He's the sassy snarky head nurse of All Saints Hospital. But here, in the South Pacific, he's just an older gentleman where the sands of time don't runneth in his favor.

While Nurse Jackie is sitting all alone being sad and contemplative, Ozzy thinks he has a true brother friend in the Energizer Bunny (Keith). As a matter of fact, he thinks they're so close that he'll go ahead and tell Energizer Bunny that he has the Hidden Immunity Idol. What happened to keeping that a secret?! *smacks self in head* Ozzy made such a fuss last week about not telling anyone and here he is a couple days later telling someone. Dummy. So, Ozzy pulls Energizer Bunny into the woods and tells him, "I have the Idol." The Bunny replies, "Ah, sweet!" and then goes and tells Whitney. After mumbling some profanities to herself, Whitney says she's surprised Ozzy told the Bunny anything at all. The Bunny replied, "He has to tell me to let me know he has all the power." Uh, not really. In Ozzy's defense, I don't think that's where his head was at, but, hey, if the Bunny's misinterpretation of everything makes Ozzy a target, then who am I to put up a fuss?

Back at Impala, Mikayla wants to know why Brandon doesn't like her. With visions of breasts dancing in his head, Brandon tells her "it's the attitude". It's this, right here, this. This woman approaching a defenseless penis wielding man in the middle of the woods where dicks can slip and vaginas can open. Womens can't do that! They can't just be all breastiful and have legs and such. Wiping the drool from his chin and silently reciting baseball statistics, Brandon stutters, "Before me doing anything, people didn't trust you." Pants on fire, sir. Pants on fire. There you go doing that lying thing all over again. If it weren't for Brandon's weird psychosexual mental torture, Mikayla has pretty much been a non-issue so far. She's not all that talkative, she's not making plans, and we all saw how she can barely defend herself at tribal. She's not awful nor stellar in the challenges so far. She's pretty middle of the road as far as the game is concerned. Never mind the fact that she's actually in Brandon's alliance. She's on your side, buddy. Or, she was on your side until you blew it and put a huge target on your back because the poor girl dared to bare her shoulders in the daytime.

Well, Brandon will settle this once and for all. As a meek Christian who turns the other cheek and as someone who hates drama and public gatherings and tattooed show-and-tells, can everyone please gather around? "This here womens person, Mikayla... luscious milky breasts.... Umm she axed me whys I don'ts like 'er... ride this bitch like a bull... And I just wants you to know that ... squeeze me tight with those thighs, hot damn!... She attacked me like a bulldog. I'm a married man... unfortunately... and, Mikayla, look around... at my big juicy weiner... because it looks like you don't have much of an alliance. Anybody has anything to say? Big titties! Respect me. I hate drama. Ride me cowgirl!" Rancher Rick stood mute picking his teeth with a stick while Albert stared out of the corner of his eye and wondered what the hell is going on here. Coach smacked himself in the head again and made a note - "Buy duct tape at the Survivor store for Brandon's gigantic trap."

The only one to really "get it" was Sophie. She sees exactly how Brandon identifies Mikayla as this evil temptress whore of Babylon while at the same time is blindly following a religion he really doesn't understand all that much. Not to mention that his blood line is rich with asshole-ish-ness. Sophie knows what's up. She knows Brandon is a loose cannon. Meanwhile, Mikayla is off by herself crying. Crying! Isn't she a football player? On the one hand, I want to defend her because Brandon is a giant misogynistic douchebag, but on the other hand, defend yourself harlot! Don't let that little troll turn your tribe against you. You're smarter than he is. Come on! I'm stunned she stood there and took it and then, AND THEN, went off and cried about it. It's not like we're dealing with a master debater (maybe a masturbator though) here or anything. This is a guy who gets TACO tattooed on his forearm. It's all very disappointing, Mikayla.

Meanwhile, Brandon is also crying. With tiny bits of sand and ash stuck to his face, he's crying for his flesh. It got a hold of him again and made him lose his temper. If his Pop Pop told him once, he's told him a thousand times - Don't lose your temper! Oh wretched flesh and lust and boobies. This constant battle between good and evil torments young Brandon day and night and all he can do is beg God not to let him sin anymore. There are so many things wrong with this kid and, believe you me, his last name is nowhere near the top of that list. Clearly, he did something super shady back at home and it's constantly haunting him. I would be shocked if his juvenile record isn't as long as my arm is.

And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. One person from each tribe will run across a floating bridge carrying a bodyboard attached to a long rope. One you reach the platform, you'll grab a bag and hang on as the rest of the tribe crank a giant wench pulling you back to shore. Once you have all five bags, the remaining tribe members will use grappling hooks to retrieve them. Inside the bags are puzzle banners that must be correctly arranged into a big scary face of the gimp from Pulp Fiction. The winning tribe not only gets Immunity, but a coffee/tea kit. Survivors ready, go!

The challenge begins with Brandon and Ozzy racing into the water. For Savannah, Dawn Dawn the soccer mom was controlling the rope while Cochran and Nurse Jackie were cranking the wench which immediately made me scratch my head and go, "Huh?" If you start to pay attention to how Savannah strategizes and who they place where during the challenges, you'll begin to wonder if it's all just a big ruse to start getting rid of people. We've had two challenges involving puzzles yet they've put Cochran nowhere near any puzzles. Makes you wonder...

Ozzy has some trouble at first trying to get enough rope from the wiggedy whack team back on shore so the Impalas gain a tiny lead. In round two, Albert loses their lead when the Impalas eff up his rope and Dawn actually manages to pull ahead. For round three, the Impalas send out Mikayla and somewhere Brandon buried his head in the sand. By the time all the bags are retrieved and we get to the grappling hook part, both teams are neck in neck. Coach and Edna are working the hooks for Impala with Elyse and Whitney doing it for Savannah. As I'm sure Coach has grappling hook practice right after samurai sword class and right before his teachings of the Buddha lecture, Coach nails all 5 bags and IMPALA WINS IMMUNITY!!!

Back at Savannah, Cochran is hard at work trying to convince everyone that they're still the stronger tribe. As a member of the Not So Beautiful People, he knows he's in trouble, but telling a bunch of losers that really, deep down, they're the stronger team seems sort of futile. Glistening Sun God Ozzy doesn't like it when his tribe's morale is low, but someone's gotta go and that someone won't be Dawn. In actuality, Dawn was the one who screwed up the rope and fell off her platform. And if we're really nitpicking here, Ozzy made plenty of mistakes including losing his own board. Considering both teams got to the grappling hook part at roughly the same time, pointing fingers at Nurse Jackie and Cochran is kind of irrelevant. I think they would have had a much bigger lead with Elyse or Whitney in Dawn's place and Ozzy not making so many freaking mistakes. But, alas, the Beautiful People have the majority and that's that.

Nurse Jackie knows he's on the chopping block and he's not happy about it at all. He blames it on being put on, what he calls, the "Barbie & Ken Team". Maybe there's some truth in that. Over at Impala if you're a sexy young gal, you're labeled a whore and have stones thrown at your head so, sure, maybe Nurse Jackie is onto something there. Anyhow, Nurse Jackie is perplexed why he and Cochran are the ones in trouble. Well, maybe it's because you sit around in your hammock all day judging everyone? *shrugs shoulders* It's just a guess. At least Cochran is making an effort to matriculate. He's not entirely successful at it, but at least he's trying. Look at Mary Jane. He's not all that young and "beautiful", but he squirreled his way into that 3+2+ the square root of a coconut alliance right in the very beginning. Why Nurse Jackie didn't cozy up to one of the girls is a mystery.

Meanwhile, Mary Jane is telling his crew that he wants Nurse Jackie to go. They all agree and decide to tell Nurse Jackie that Cochran is the one going. Upon hearing this, instead of being happy he's safe, Cochran is annoyed that his name keeps getting brought up at all. He wonders if maybe he should do some scrambling and I wonder what the hell is going on in his head. They tell him he's safe yet he contemplates campaigning? I don't get it. Word eventually gets back to Nurse Jackie that he's safe and he's immediately suspicious. Not for one second does he believe those hooligan kids. None of them will look him in the eye and when he confronts them about Cochran leaving, they say, "Oh because he was gonna be the first one last time." *makes a 'W' with fingers* What-ever!

Nurse Jackie decides to take matters into his own hands and go hunting for the Idol. It's the only way he'll be able to save himself. Elyse sees him races into the woods so she runs back to camp to tell the others. She asks if anyone wants to join her to spy on him and Energizer Bunny and Ozzy just sort of look at each other. Since Mary Jane has no idea that the Idol has already been found, he follows Elyse into the woods. They see Nurse Jackie on all fours digging hole after hole after hole. No rhyme or reason - just digging willy nilly. Now, if you've watched the show for the past, oh I don't know, 4 or 5 seasons, the Idol is always hidden in or behind some sort of landmark like a tree or a bridge or a rock. Poor Nurse Jackie was like the fat kid in Stand By Me digging for his jar of money. He never did find the Idol, so instead he made a fake one and shoved down his boxers. He emerged from woods with a strut and a smile and hoped it was enough to fool everyone.

Now we arrive at Tribal Council. Dimples immediately starts in on Cochran because last time he came dangerously close to being voted out. Cochran believes that since then he's proved himself both at camp and in the challenges. He may be the smallest guy on the tribe, but he can yank a wench with the best of 'em. Dimples asks Cochran if perhaps he's slightly defensive in life. Cochran doesn't think so and everyone laughs. Dude, Cochran, own it. If you're going to be an attorney, being defensive is half the battle.

Dimples asks Nurse Jackie what he thinks about Cochran and Nurse Jackie says, "Physically, he'll be a danger to himself." I think that's a polite way of calling him a clutz, but I could be wrong. The conversation continues and Nurse Jackie is clearly bothered that Ozzy has emerged as the leader and he hasn't. No offense, but when you tell your tribe to call you "Papa Bear" on day one, it's a little hard to emerge as a leader after that. And, let's get real, the vet is always the leader. They've been through it before and, unless you guys are smart enough to get rid of him week one, no one else will ever take that spot away from him.

Nurse Jackie mentions how the Beautiful People are in charge and running things to which Soccer Mom Dawn says, "I don't agree with that." Mary Jane jumps in and says that Nurse Jackie has it all wrong. Oh, come on! First off, Mary Jane is the shadiest guy out there. How anyone can trust a guy with shifty eyes who smiles all the time is a mystery to me. There's nothing creepier than a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. Energizer Bunny should have been tipped off last week when Mary Jane was so hell bent on being the orchestrator of the 3+2+2 marijuana dispensaries times pi plan.

In the end, Nurse Jackie was right. The Beautiful People are running things and Nurse Jackie is the third person voted out of Survivor South Pacific. How long do you think the Beautiful People will stay intact? Will Impala ever team up and get rid of Brandon? Will Cochran manage to get rid of Ozzy before the Merge? Do you have any Hoops poems up your sleeves? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

I Call Her 'Poverty'

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 13:07:00 +0000

Temptation is her name. Dancing in the wind, shaking her maracas, flagrantly flaunting her... appendages. Oh woe is the man tortured by this evil seductress who dares to poke her head out of the burlap sack she was given at birth. Did she not get the "Vile Menstruating Woman" handbook upon exiting her mother's birth canal? We all got it! Mine is right here on the dresser. It sits in between the Q'uran and I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell. But damn these ties that bind! Literally, ties. When I tuck myself into bed at night and knot the knots of my wooly burka tightly around me, it's next to impossible to read the next chapter of the handbook. The bloody nubs that were once my fingers are tired from knotting, tired from praying, tired from trying to break free and tear holes through my itchy cage. Such is the life of a woman! Don't look at me, don't! I may cause you distress. Just a glimpse of my hair blowing in the breeze or a hint of my bare wrist in the sunlight and you could find yourself spontaneously bursting into flames. Turn away ye innocent menfolk! The stirring in your loins, the slow descent into madness... it's not worth it. Not worth it! Let's recap, shall we?

We continue our South Pacific tale on Rhode Island (Redemption Island). This tiny state without electricity or running water is dark, dank, and buzzing with insects. A lone civilian, sniffling and wiping away tears, makes her way through the thick of night. It's Hoops (Semhar) and the emotion of the moment is so powerful, so moving - she must, MUST, write a poem about this...

There once was a woman named Hoops
Words fell from her mouth like poop
They don't rhyme or make sense
Maya Angelou would be incensed!
I'd like to choke her with a noose called "Loop"

The poet laureate of Samoa, folks. Next stop, Nantucket!

Back in the peach infested city of Savannah (Savai'i), the weary travellers are returning from their first Tribal Council. They were not prepared for the brutality of it all. One man, however, is grateful. Our spindly law student, Cochran, adjusts his giant glasses and thanks his tribemates for having faith in the genie. Sure, they now intend to rub him all night, but it's a consequence he must endure. The hands and fingers carressing freckles in the moonlight - so unfamiliar, so primal. His innocence may be lost forever, but the fighter within trudges on. He'll push his insecurities and the whispers in the night from Nurse Jackie (Mark) back into the recesses of his mind. He came to play a game and a little nighttime mass molestation will not stand in his way. If he has to endure a little wiley monkey love from Ozzy, then so be it!

Speaking of Ozzy, he has an admirer in the Energizer Bunny (Keith). While in the background Cochran is being tossed back and forth like a rag doll between Whitney and Elyse, Ozzy and Energizer Bunny are busy planning for their next Immunity Challenge. They think Cochran might be good at puzzles, but, more importantly, Energizer Bunny is just happy that he's made a friend and a partnership with Ozzy. Ozzy knows the ins and outs of the game. He knows how to throw poo at onlookers, but he's also strong and a threat. It's a conundrum that Energizer Bunny is very well aware of. In the meantime he'll nurture his alliance with Ozzy, but he'll also watch him like a hawk. You can't be too careful with a poo flinger.

A new day dawns and over at Impala (Upolu), Coach and Edna are taking a midmorning "get to know ya" walk. They reminisce about that first day when the rest of the tribe abandoned him like a new infestation of the plague. Edna giggles charmingly and says she couldn't have left him to carry his bags all alone. Just a sidenote, a dragon slayer is a heavy packer. There are swords, armor, chess pieces, D&D handbooks, mint-in-the-box Battlestar Galactica figurines, chokers featuring a wide array of animal teeth, and scrunchies. Lots and lots of scrunchies. It's impossible for a man without a bellhop to carry all of that by himself. So what once seemed like a lost cause to Coach is now beginning to look up. He has a solid alliance (Sophie, Rancher Rick, Hitler's Nephew, Albert) and this Edna character seems nice enough. He tells her that he really wants to know if anyone has the Immunity Idol. Maybe Christine Jason Leigh has it. She was digging all day yesterday. They definitely need to keep their eye on that Christine Joel Osment and see if she seems overly confident or has a suspicious bulge in her bike shorts. The conversation ends with the these two fast friends making an alliance with one another. Edna promises to always be loyal and the Dragon Slayer promises to protect her from ogres and knights on black horses.

Back at Savannah, Cochran 2.0 is busy keeping his promise to his tribe. He'll do his chores before he's asked, he'll put his dishes in the dishwasher, and he swears he'll walk the dog before he settles in to play World Of Warcraft for the rest of the night. On the one hand his mother would be so proud, but on the other hand she'd clutch her pearls and cling to the banister in horror if she saw him whacking away at a coconut unsupervised. Before Cochran left for the South Pacific, while packing his ironed underthings with his name embroidered neatly inside, his mother made him promise - NO UNSUPERVISED MACHETE WIELDING! Listen mommy, new Cochran doesn't adhere to those rules of yours. Out of sight, out of mind, lady! You think playing with a machete is bad? Try spending the night sandwiched in between a soccer mom with unstable hormones and a queen from New York who likes it rough. Little Johnny is a man today, mom. He's tasted the forbidden fruit and there's no turning back. This genie/man is here to stay. Now, did you pack his inhaler or not because this humidity is brutal!

So while Cochran is busy offering up his juicy coconuts to the rest of the tribe, Ozzy grabs a spear and sneaks away into the jungle. Under the guise of fishing, he'll take a quick look-see for that pesky Idol and perhaps this time around he'll actually get to use it and save himself. Monkey Boy leaps effortlessly onto the trunk of a tree and using nothing but his toes, tail, and fingernails he climbs up to the canopy and surveys the scene looking for anything amiss. One tree in particular looks a little sneaky. With an untrustworthy tangle of branches at its base, Ozzy swings up on it with one arm and shimmies himself to the top. There, in a crevice between two branches sits a giant rock with a neon sign on it. It blinks furiously: THE IDOL IS HERE! THE IDOL IS HERE! And... bim, bam, boom - Ozzy has found the Hidden Immunity Idol.

After a brief celebration that curiously consisted of an Irish brogue, Ozzy stuffs the Idol down his shorts and flings himself from branch to branch looking for a new hiding spot for it. He spies a very similar hiding spot to the original in a neighboring tree and decides to stick it there. I thought this was a strange choice as a clue for the Idol still lurks and I would think it would allude to a location up high... in a tree... in between two branches. *shrugs shoulders* It'll be pretty funny if someone other than Ozzy finds it in the new spot. I'll hold onto the promise of that and hope for the best.

Back at Impala, a tender moment between two men is taking place. Coach and Hitler's Nephew are palling around talking about how they kept stealing the blanket from each other last night. Naughty boys and their pillow fights! Oh giggle, giggle. Young Brandon likes the Dragon Slayer. He sees something in him that he can look up to: wisdom, experience, honor, integrity, a deep-seeded fear and hatred of scantily clad women (maybe?). He could certainly go far with a man like Coach by his side to guide and inspire him. There's a slight problem though. As a God-fearing Christian (who calls his uncle Hitler and gets "puta" tattoed on his ankle), Brandon is wrestling with the fact that this man he so admires is the nemesis of his evil uncle, Lucifer. To keep his family name a secret would be hypocritcial, no? They've become such good friends over the course of the past 72 hours and clearly they have the same goals in life - burkas for everyone! (maybe?) - that it would be ungodlike not to just spill the hereditary beans.

With a machete in hand and a head full of bible misquotes, Brandon yanks Coach into the trees and says, "Wanna see something cool?" He lifts up his shirt to reveal a tattoo in a childlike scrawl - LIL HANTZ. He points to it and says, "It says LIL HANTZ." Why, thank you, Captain Obvious. Lil Hantz pulls his shirt back down over his shoulder and continues walking. Coach stands perplexed for a smidge and then runs to catch up with him. "Wait, that's not your last name is it?", he asks. Brandon nods and replies, "I'm Hitler's Nephew. Keep it on the DL." Coach quickly tucks his Star of David into his ponytail and laughs uncomfortably to himself. He pauses to take in the news as all the memories of Survivor yesteryear came flooding back in a flash. He had one of those "Man of God/Honor/Integrity" deals with Lucifer - not unlike the one he has right now with this punk kid - and he paid for it dearly. If this news was meant to comfort him, it didn't. It scared our Dragon Slayer.

Brandon assures Coach that he has nothing to worry about. He told him about the hideous tattoo on his shoulder because he trusted him. If it bites him in the ass later on down the road, then so be it. But, for now, he feels good about it. As a matter of fact, let's pray on it, shall we? Oh heavenly father, we thank you for this day. We thank you for bringing this shifty-eyed punk kid into my life who has no talent whatsoever in choosing which fonts to place on his body. Could he not have chosen a nice Helvetica or maybe even a simple Arial? In Jesus' name we pray. Amen.

Over at Savannah, Elyse is standing on the beach with her arms raised to the sky asking her Native American ancestors to make the fish jump out of the water and into her arms. I had no idea that this was how the Cherokee caught their fish. As I'm half Mexican and feeling a little peckish - Oh great ancestors from beyond, taco, stat! Hmm. It didn't work. I can't possibly understand why. Mary Jane (Jim) watches Elyse from the shore and knows that no matter how loud she yells or how grand she waves her arms, those fish aren't leaving the sea unless you go in after them so he calls down to the marina and reserves a fishing boat for that afternoon. A little boys day out fishing is in order right about now. Sure, Ozzy and Energizer Bunny were already paddling out on the boat, but Mary Jane is convinced that had he not made those reservations, this trip would be a no go. He's a 200 time poker champion I'll have you know and if there's one thing poker champions know how to do, it's organizing fishing trips.

What Ozzy and the Bunny don't realize is that this fishing trip isn't just an innocent boys outing. Oh no siree bob! It's all a giant ruse for the very complicated and intricate 3+2-6x254+18a squared plan. Don't try to understand it and don't even bother whipping out your calculators. The 3+2xpi divided by the radius of the coconut shell plan is too advanced for mere laymen to understand so just trust that Mary Jane knows what he's doing. He does own two medical marijuana dispensaries after all. All you need to know is that the '3' refers to Mary Jane, Ozzy, and Energizer Bunny. The '2' refers to Elyse and Whitney. Add that up and that makes 5. There are 5 golden rings. Shake up those rings and spill them out like, what? Right, Yahtzee. Yahtzee is played with dice. Poker is played with cards. Cards, a house of cards, house, garage, laundry room. Laundry, something that smells. Pot also smells and there you have it. 3+2=5 and that means a pot dealer will win the game. Duh. It's so easy I can't believe only an 18,000 time poker champion is the only one to come up with it.

So Mary Jane is convinced he has this game mapped out to the end. He pitches the 3+2 plan to the other boys (conveniently leaving out the rest of the plan that ends with a pot dealer winning) and Energizer Bunny nods and agrees. Now, what Mary Jane doesn't know is that Energizer Bunny and Ozzy already have an alliance that doesn't include Miss Mary Jane at all. That's ok though. He'll just let Mary Jane go on thinking he's the mastermind and the architect. If all goes according to Mary Jane's plan, Cochran, Dawn, and Nurse Jackie should be the next ones going home. I don't know. The best laid plans... they never ever ever work out, do they? If it can endly badly for Reese, it can end badly for anyone.

Over at Impala, I can't believe my eyes. Actually, men, blindfold yourselves please. Mikayla is walking on the beach in a tank top and I don't want any spontaneous "emissions" getting you boys in trouble. You see, Mikayla is one of those wicked temptresses I spoke about in my opening paragraph. She plays football in her panties, she likes to roughhouse with the boys, and, this harlot is brazenly walking around flashing her bare knees to the world like there's nothing wrong with it. I know, I know, I'm horrified. I feel your pain, men. Go ahead and plan your fatwas. Girls like that give us all a bad name. I am ululating in protest as we speak.

(painting by Phil Holt)

Unfortunately, young innocent Brandon with MUERTE DE LAS MUJERES tattooed on his stomach doesn't have any blindfolds to protect him. This Mikayla seductress traipses around the camp unsupervised without a care in the world. Brandon is a married man! He can't be around good looking fit women in public places. He could trip and fall and his penis could accidentally end up in her vagina! No, no, no, this isn't acceptable at all. This innocent young Christian boy who once slammed kids into their lockers just for fun shouldn't have to put up with these daily temptations. Temptation began all the way back with Eve in that garden she lived in. How did Adam handle it back then? Surely, he voted her out, right? So while clutching a peach colored fruit with ferocity and sucking the fibers and juices out of it, Brandon begins to plot Mikayla's exit from the game.

Meanwhile, Christine Fawcett Majors is hatching a plan of her own. Now, she's not sure if she's a target or not, but she'd feel a whole hell of a lot better if she had that Immunity Idol in her back pocket to use in case she needed it. Since no one else is bothering to look for the clue, she takes it upon herself to scour the beach. Like Spacey (Stacey) before her, she stumbles onto an odd looking tree with all sorts of nooks and crannies. I don't think it was the same tree Spacey had found last time (I do think Spacey had the Idol in her hand and then walked away from it), but this tree was almost as good as the other one. Right there, nestled in a crevice, with two bright green leaves acting as flags, sat the Hidden Immunity Idol Clue. Christine Dawn Chong opens the clue and it reads something like this: It's somewhere around here. Well, good luck with that Christine Louis Dreyfus.

And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! 4 members of each tribe have to dance around the maypole while the other 4 stay locked in a Brady Bunch prison. Once the ribbons are untangled, a key ring will be released. Using those keys, one tribe member will unlock the other 4 tribe members who will then work together moving very heavy crates back and forth across a platform until they can release the largest one. First tribe to get their large crate onto their finished platform wins Immunity and Reward. Want to know what you're playing for? Why it's a fetching collection of pillows and blankets! As Impala has one extra member they sit out that sprite Edna. On the pole for Savannah is Cochran, Dawn, Whitney, and Elyse. On the pole for Impala is Spacey, Sophie, Christine Lou Henner, and that whore Mikayla. Survivors ready, go!

Since nymphs and sluts are used to dancing around the maypole, Impala crush the bejesus out of Savannah. Cochran got tangled in the ribbons while Dawn fretted about her meatloaf. Meanwhile, Mikyala flung off her boy shorts and weaved her pantsless self around the pole like a nymph in heat. Brandon didn't know whether to cheer or repent. It was chaos I tell you, chaos!

With a ginormous lead, Spacey takes the key and unlocks those Brady kids. Brandon tries to push down his bobbing penis as the men then burst through the cage and go to work on the crates. Dawn eventually loosens the key for Savannah, but the kids are late for band practice and little Timmy can't find his shoes. She fiddles with the key like a, well, like a mom screaming for Calgon to take her away. And, why is she wearing a billowy full length skirt by the way? Have we not addressed her completely inappropriate attire that can easily become tangled in, umm, EVERYTHING! Eventually, this walking accident hands the keys off the Elyse and the rest of Savannah is free.

Both tribes are now working on the crates, but the '3' part of the 3+2 times the ratio of the amount of THC in sativa to the amount of THC in indica is much too powerful for the Impalas to withstand. In a complete blow out in which the Impalas lose their sizable lead and the Savannahs smoke them, so to speak.... SAVANNAH WINS IMMUNITY!!!

Back at Impala, the mood is bleak. Coach congratulates the women for kicking ass while Brandon carves DIE HORE into his arm. Christine Bonham Carter wishes that the men had been lighter on their feet and wonders who they're thinking about voting out. Coach's plan is to flush out the Idol if it's been found. His alliance will vote 3 for Spacey and 3 for Christine Jacob Astor. That remark Christine Saint Laurent made day one about Coach being "temporary" really bothers him (just like when Franchesspiecesca made the same mistake last season) and he'd like to see her go sooner rather than later.

Brandon, however, isn't convinced. He confesses to Coach that he has his doubts about that infidel Mikayla. He's faithful to his wife and he can't have that pantsless harlot running around showing her ears and shoulders to him. Any number of things could happen out there in the wild. She could fall head first off the top of a tree and land with her mouth wide open from screaming right into his penis! Or she could get her ankle caught up in a vine and go flying forward with her pinky finger erect and slam right into Brandon's awaiting rectum. The amount of accidental penetrations that could take place in this unforgiving landscape are too numerous to count. As a man of God, Brandon just can't take any chances. Coach nods and listens and says, "Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh.", but his inner monologue was more like, "This kid is nuts!"

Brandon then takes it upon himself to try and convince everyone to get rid of Mikayla. A public stoning would be ideal, but he'll settle for them writing her name down on a piece of parchment paper instead. Sophie is immediately suspicious and wonders that if he can get rid of Mikayla so easily, will he get rid of her next? Coach enters the conversation and tells them all that they need Mikayla for the next competition. It's too early to get rid of her now. Sophie agrees and says they can very easily get Mikayla to vote out Christine James Olmos tonight.

Speaking of Christine Knight Pulliam, she's watching out of the corner of her eye wondering what the hell the others could be talking about all gathered in a group like that. What do you think they're talking about Christine Higgins Clark? They're talking about you! Mikayla, with her boobs and her legs and her nose and her EVERYTHING!, pops out of the woods and joins the conversation. Coach, sensing some preejaculate from Brandon, asks Mikayla to please give them some privacy. Spacey then wanders up and the whole group disperses. Christine Marie Presley sees little Edna standing all by herself so she approaches and asks her who they were talking about. Edna fidgets with some twigs, tries to hide her eyes, and say, "Oh umm we were talking about Sophie." Christine Abdul Jabbar looks at her sideways and says, "No you weren't. Sophie was with you. You better get your story straight!" Edna frantically looks around herself for an escape route while trying to stop the red from creeping up to her cheeks. Man, she wasn't kidding when she said she couldn't lie. What Christine Pinkett Smith should have done was taken that opportunity to ask Edna everything under the sun. Edna is like when they drugged Alex on Nikita with that truth serum stuff. I'll bet she would've given the formula to that nether region numbing business she's trying to start if asked.

Brandon continues his anti-Mikayla bar tour and tells Christine Elizabeth Mastrantonio and Spacey that he's voting out Mikayla. Spacey was all like, "Hell yeah!" This whole Mikayla business could save her hide and she knows it. However, Christine Allen Poe is suspicious of Brandon. Voting Mikayla out right now makes zero sense and she can't make heads or tails of it. Why she and Spacey don't join forces and discuss how they're going to vote is a mystery to me. As we're about to see in Tribal Council, it's every man for themselves.

And now we arrive at Tribal Council. Coach is ready. His hair is brushed. His skin is oiled. He's heard a rumor on the wind that Chrstine Hartman Black and Spacey plan on voting out Mikayla and he's not too thrilled about it. He'll settle this puppy tonight. Tribal is where he thrives. It's a take no prisoners kind of season and I, for one, am thrilled. Bring it on Coach!

No dilly dallying. No muss, no fuss. Let's get right to it. Coach says immediately how he's heard that Christine Curtis Chapman and Spacey plan on voting out Mikayla. Flood gates, would you kindly open please? Thank you. "Oh no I didn't, you jive talkin' turkey!", "What the hell you talkin' about?", "I never said that.", "You betta gitcho mem'ry checked!" *smiles to self* Dimples and I both almost tinkled with excitement and it's awhn bitches!

Christine Cougar Mellencamp isn't nearly as thrilled as I am as she rolls her eyes and dreads being a part of the Coach Show. Spacey continues to deny that she ever said anything about Mikayla and demands to know where this information came from. Albert jumps in and says that it would be a breach of Coach's honor and integrity to reveal his sources. LOL I love that logic. Sounds like something I would say.

While this is all delightful and hysterical to me, one man sits knowing that God is looking down on him right at this very moment. He's a guilty man with a conscience as thin as the skin on an old lady's hand. As the sound of women bickering makes poor Brandon all hot and bothered, he raises his hand and confesses that he told the women to vote out Mikayla. He's probably one of those guys that thinks once you confess, all is forgiven. I don't care what he thinks. I just love that his conscience constantly raps on the inside of his skull and reminds him that one day he'll be judged for all of his wrongdoing.

Alright, let's get to the vote. By a narrow vote of 1-1-3-4 (sounds like a Mary Jane plan!), Christine Ann Moss is the second person voted out of Survivor South Pacific. So, what did you guys think? Will Coach forgive Brandon? Will Brandon "accidentally" plant his seed inside of Mikayla? Will Hoops write a poem about this? Comment it out bitches (feel free to share any Hoops poetry in the comments) and have a great day!

As cbs.com is refusing to update it's photo section in a timely manner, many of the pictures in today's blog were shamelessly stolen from the Survivor Seasons Facebook Group. Thank you kindly for your service to our country.

I'm A Genie In A Bottle

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 15 Sep 2011 13:49:00 +0000

Some enchanted evening you may find yourself in the South Pacific. The wartorn, formerly occupied by the Nazis, South Pacific where men go to seek redemption and middle age women go to have a breakdown. Crystalline blue waters, picturesque valleys, lush rainforests, and active volcanoes make our new home for the next 39 days look pretty on the outside, but venture deeper into the jungle thick where the hair is unruly and you could end up with "gato" or "sombrero" tattooed on your neck. Yup. The natives speak Samoan, the visitors speak Russian, but the tattoo artists speak high school Spanish. It is at this nexus of cultural diversity where we will settle in with our brethren and fight to the death in the blood soaked arena that is Rhode Island. Welcome back bitches. It's been a while. Let's recap, shall we?

It begins with a whir, a whooshing on the wind. Blades slice through the air with precision, waves tumble below, and a curl bounces in the breeze. Two very different men sit in silence. Each with his own agenda. One seeks to control his sense of self righteousness and slay the dragons of his past with honor and integrity while the other, a monkey boy, seeks the not so elusive poonany (that's Samoan for "beef curtains"). The mistakes of their pasts haunt them like stray tendrils in their eyeballs, but this - right here, right now - is their opportunity to turn a wrong into a right. What defeated them once before will not defeat them again. They've grown, they've matured, they've conditioned, and they've moisturized. They've seen the error of their ways and now they seek what the Russians call "vykup"... redemption.

Waiting below in a rickety arena made of matchsticks and birch twigs, we find Dimples (Jeff Probst) in a fetching kelly green cloverleaf of a shirt. Hands on hips, he welcomes us once again to Rhode Island (Redemption Island) where warriors have fought and fallen, where blood stains the sands, and where a lonely pony hair lies in rememberance of all we've lost and all we've seen. This time around the battle will begin at Rhode Island. No dilly dallying, no mystery. We're going to throw the 16 freshly scrubbed neophytes paddling their way ashore right into the lion's den and see who's brave enough to make their way out. Will it be the spindly Harvard Law student, the moustachio'd rancher, or Hitler's nephew? Only time will tell.

The music swells as the oars cut into the water. Our hearts begin to race because we know what's coming. You've been with me long enough to know. I wait for it every season. Those 3 lines. Those 3 little magical lines. I snort them up like the drug they are and let them invade my very being. Give it to me Dimples! Sparkle in your green and give me the goods. Will he deliver them hanging from a helicopter? Will he be shouting from the inside of a volcano? Will he be leaping off the side of a cliff? Gah! I'm so excited I can't stand it!

With the sun in his eyes Dimples stands on a beach and stares into the camera. Surely this can't be it. Surely the beach is surrounded in flames or something, right? There's a gaggle of sharks waiting to eat him when we go to the wide shot, right? The beach is about to tumble into a oceanic black hole and swallow him whole, right? Tell me it's not just Dimples on a goddamn beach! 39 days, 18 people, ONE Survivor... *whomp whomp whomp* Oh, hell no. It's like Dimples went to the Phil Keoghan curtsying school of "Go!" while on hiatus.

Dear Dimples,
What the fuck was that?!? Do over.
Love, Lala

The newbies march into the arena past the bones of the fallen and take their spots with their respective tribes. It's a cacophony of whoops and hollers as Dimples welcomes them to the game. But, hark, not so fast scuttlebutts. Your tribes as they stand now are incomplete. Two more players are about to join you. Nurse Jackie (Mark) shifts with excitement while Edna leans over to Brandon HANTZ and whispers, "I hope it's not Russell!" Brandon stuffs his fedora in his back pocket, scribbles with a Sharpie over his "I'm a HANTZ" tattoos, and mutters nervously, "Oh my goodness. That would suck." It is here that we learn that young Brandon has no intention of letting the other's know that he's Hitler's nephew. Oh sure, he's got RUSSELL IS MY UNCLE tattooed on his lower back and HANTZ FO' LIFE etched into his shoulder blade, but never you mind all that. He'll just keep his shirt on for the entire run of the game and no one will ever find out that this short stocky balding Texan isn't burbling with Hantz blood running through his veins. Piece o' cake!

The helicopter lands and out leaps Ozzy. Newly mulleted Ozzy. Backlit, he trots towards Rhode Island with the wind in his hair and a song in his heart. The 16 young'uns elbow each other in the ribs with excitement, "It's Ozzy!", "Oh my god, look, Ozzy!", "I sure hope we get Ozzy!" Behind him, lurches out Coach. With a slow mosey in his stride and a collection of quotes from Buddha in his back pocket, the newbies look at each other and say, "Oh. Coach. *sigh* Hey, did you see Ozzy? That's Ozzy!" Always the optimist, Coach shakes his hair loose, delivers a namaste bow, and basks in the applause that are not at all meant for him. Christine Day Lewis poses like the Karate Kid from the sidelines and begins to slay imaginary dragons with an invisble light saber. Coach laughs nervously to himself and wonders who the hell this bitch with 3 names is. She calls him "temporary" and I'm immediately reminded of Franchupacabraesca dissing the vets last season and going home first. Maybe Christine Kennedy Onassis will meet the same fate. As I can only come up with so many 3 named famous people, I'm leaning towards that option.

Eating up the drama, Dimples begins to, in a very Socratic Harvardian way, call on random people to chime in. He points to a reed of a man in the backround and says, "Hey you, skinny kid with the glasses, what do you think?" Adjusting his glasses and satchel, said skinny kid replies, "I know you call the players you like by their last names so call me 'Cochran'." Dimples smiles to himself while the crowd ooohs and ahhhs. Nurse Jackie covers his mouth and giggles as Dimples obliges this human Giacometti sculpture and asks, "Ok Cochran, what do you think of Coach and Ozzy being here?" Giddy with a little bit of tinkle running down his leg, Cochran talks about their wealth of knowledge as well as his "buff collection" at home. He's an excited student of the game living his dream. As I'd probably tinkle a little too if Dimples ever said, "What do you think Lala?" I totally get it.

It's now time to find out where our vets will end up. Will it be on Impala (Upolu) or Savannah (Savai'i)? The hardened veterans each take an egg out of a basket. Coach squishes his between his fingers while Ozzy smashes his dramatically on his chest. The crimson paint oozes over Ozzy's heart like a fresh flesh wound as the Savannah tribe cheers with excitement. Rancher Rick kicks the sand with a cowboy boot mumbling something about there being no such thing as dragons. Coach, with ooey gooey blue crap on his hands, will join Impala and Ozzy will join Savannah. We now have our tribes. They are as follows... Impala: Coach, Albert, Hitler's Nephew, Christine Zeta Jones, Edna, Mikayla, Rancher Rick, Sophie, and Spacey (Stacey). Savannah: Ozzy, Dawn, Elyse, Mary Jane (Jim), Cochran, Keith, Nurse Jackie (Mark), and Hoops (Semhar). It's only day one and I've already got a handful of nicknames. I think that's a good sign, don't you?

Coach's tribe looks up at the trees and pretends not to see him approaching while the Savannahs run and scoop up their Ozzy like the hero he is. They perch him up on their shoulders and parade him around the arena shouting, "Ru-dy! Ru-dy! Ru-dy!" while the Impala's are frustratingly kicking sand in Coach's face and throwing rocks at his head. As I'm often wont to root against anyone that America embraces, this here little blogger is anti-Ozzy and pro-Coach. Besides, Ozzy slept with Galumpy (Amanda) so I have to hate him.

Time's a' wastin' so let's get this show on the road. For our first challenge Ozzy will square up against Coach and compete in a "Hero Challenge". On Dimples' go, they'll climb a pole and retrieve a wooden turtle. They will then crawl under a log and, finally, transfer a pyramid puzzle across a series of tables moving only one piece at a time and always moving smaller pieces on top of bigger ones. The instructions were vague and I had no idea what the hell Dimples was talking about - apparently neither did Coach and Ozzy as we'll see shortly. The first person to transfer their puzzle with the turtle on top wins taro and flint for their tribe. Survivors ready, go!

Monkey Boy Ozzy scurries up the pole and snags in his turtle in the blink of an eye. Surprisingly, Coach isn't that far behind and retrieves his turtle as well. They both dig furiously in the sand and Ozzy, with the squishy body of a sneaky rodent, slithers under the log and heads to the puzzle. Coach attempts to sneak under his log and almost decapitates himself in the process. Both men are at the puzzles and it's a free for all. Stacks of pieces are thrown hither and thither, two and three at a time, big on top of small, turtles under planks... it's anarchy I tell you! Dimples cracks his whip and shouts, "One puzzle piece at a time! No! Small on top of big!" Not used to being reprimanded by the teacher, Coach and Ozzy look confused and begin to falter.

Ozzy turns to his Savannahs and asks for help. Mary Jane (Jim), a skilled poker player, shouts explicit instructions to Ozzy. Coach then turns to his tribe for assistance. Rancher Rick hurls stuffed animal dragons at his head while Christine Day O'Connor waxes on and waxes off. It's chaos in it's purist form. Everyone is screaming. Spacey keeps shouting, "Turtle! Turtle!" Coach is lost in a sea of hate while Ozzy thrives in his cloud of love. Bim, bam, boom.... OZZY WINS REWARD!!!

Again, the Savannah's lift Ozzy up on their shoulders and throw a ticker tape parade in his honor while the Impala's mutter obscenities in Coach's direction and flee into the woods to try and lose him. Only Edna stays behind and offers the defeated Coach a hand. When all seemed lost, when all seemed hopeless, a lovely smile from a woman friend buoys our befuddled Coach's spirit. "Maybe there's hope with the Impala's after all," he thinks to himself. If he can keep that fear that tickles his ear at bay and focus on the mission at hand - DON'T GO HOME FIRST - he can chisel another notch into his samurai sword and continue his journey toward enlightenment.

The Savannah's arrive at their camp first and it's full of merriment and joy. They gather in a circle and begin the introduction process... "I'm a law student", "I'm a songwriter", yadda yadda yadda. Then Hoops, and her big ole bag o' bullshit, says, "My soul, my life, is my poetry, the spoken word." *rolls eyes* Nurse Jackie demands a poem and Hoops obliges... She fiddles with her headband, shakes her eyes, flutters her lashes, and begins the torture, "Cuz see I would walk miles and miles.... black and white tiles... Billie Jean... Michael Jackson." I thought it was crap, but Ozzy was smitten. He thought her boobs... I mean, words... were beautiful and he really wanted dive in and hump the shit out of that... I mean, hear some more words. Since Ozzy's work here is done (he's found his new Galumpy), he suggests they all kick back, relax, and go for a swim. Shelter schmelter. Water schmater. Fire schmire. It's party time. Besides, he wants to see Hoops in her panties.

Nurse Jackie flings off his t-shirt and skips into the clear blue water while on the shore Cochran is in the middle of a pale boy translucent skinned panic attack. For some reason the Survivors don't have bathing suits (this is strange, no?) so if they want to go in the water, it's gotta be in their skivvies. Well, Woody Allen on the beach was freaking out and rubbing his forehead back and forth trying to convince the others not to disrobe. Whitney takes her pants off right in front of him and Cochran's face turns as pink as his shirt. I'm thinking "virgin"... definitely, virgin. Keith adjusts his muscles just so and Cochran looks on in a flustered panic. He paces the beach to death knowing there's no way out of this special torture. So now, with the whole crew already in the water forced to stare at nothing BUT Cochran, he gives in and does a slow Baywatch run into the water.

Over at Impala, Coach wished he had something as minute as baring his chest to worry about. Instead, he's dodging daggers and trying to figure out how to get his tribe not to eat him for dinner. He apologizes to his tribe for not winning the challenge and swears that he's not a threat in the game. He's in the middle of this beautiful speech about teamwork and synchronicity when up chimes in Christine Jesse Raphael, "Does anyone have any building experience?" Well, I guess that's that. You gave it a good effort Coach, but that Christine Tyler Moore is a hard nut to crack.

The Impala's go around in a circle and introduce themselves.... "I'm a rancher", "I'm a baseball coach", yadda yadda yadda. Sophie says she just graduated from college and Coach innocently asks her what her major was. She tells him Russian so, naturally, Coach replies in Russian and has a conversation with her in Russian. Sophie glares at him because I think he used usted instead of tu or some shit like that. Whatever he did, it was wrong and it annoyed Sophie when, at home, I thought it was pretty cool that Coach could speak Russian. I mean, seriously, what are the odds? If some off the cuff Russian doesn't impress these assholes, nothing will. Coach definitely has a tough battle ahead of him.

Eventually, they put their differences aside and begin building the shelter. Everyone is chipping in and working hard save one person... Christine Patrick Harris. Christine Kate Olson has other plans in mind. They start with "Immunity" and end with "Idol". Under the guise of collecting firewood, she goes searching high and low for the Immunity Idol. As she conducts her search about 10 feet from the construction site, every single person knows what she's up to. Albert is visibly annoyed and Coach declares Christine Carter Cash as target #1.

Back at Savannah, Mary Jane is not only stoked that he's surrounded by babes in bikinis, but he's also busy inventing a whole new life for himself. You see, he's really a medical marijuana dealer, but he tells his tribe that he's a forensic science teacher at a high school instead. I had no idea high schools had "forensic science" but whatevs. Hoops asks if anyone is married and Nurse Jackie says he's been gay all his life. Like Cochran before him, he requests that his tribe now refers to him as "Papa Bear". Nope, you're Nurse Jackie, lady, and that's that. Own it.

Meanwhile, Dawn Dawn the soccer mom is standing in the middle of a barren camp with no shelter freaking out. She's got to get her kids lunches made, her husbands suits pressed, and do the carpool run - there's no time to build a shelter!!! She runs up to Ozzy and begs him to get started on the shelter. She's seen tribes with no shelter before and they'd sit an entire night in the rain looking miserable. Ozzy shrugs his shoulders and is like, "Yeah, umm ok, whatever. If we don't finish, we could sleep on the beach." A look of horror smacks itself on Dawn's face as she clutches her short hair and frets about getting the kids to violin practice on time.

Over at Impala, Brandon is struggling with the fact that here, in Survivor land, the women contribute and sometimes show their ankles and *gasp* their bare legs. You see, Brandon "Loco" Hantz is a good Christian boy. Oh sure, he beat up people back in high school and he's already fathered a child out of wedlock, but daggumit that Mikayla better put some clothes on! The nerve of that girl to climb on top of the shelter and finish the roof in nothing more than a tank top and shorts. Burka, stat! And oh, Jiminy Christmas, when Mikayla straddled a log to secure some vines you could almost see the passion, the temptation, the lust dancing flagrantly right in front of Brandon's eyes teasing him mercilessly. No, Brandon, you're not like your uncle... you're WORSE.

Night falls on Impala and a group of five are sitting by a canoe looking up at the stars - Brandon, Coach, Albert, Sophie, and Rancher Rick (I think). Coach begins talking about how he'd like to win all the immunity challenges and at home I muttered something about snowballs, hell, and flying pigs. In the magic of the moment a flimsy sort of alliance of five is born and I'm not happy about it at all. This isn't the five I'd like to see Coach teamed up with. Sophie can't be trusted at all and, let's face it, Brandon is incredibly creepy. But, after a glowing speech from Coach about how first day alliances are the most lasting alliances, some sort of deal gets made and everyone seems happy with it. Coach's confidence lifts and I guess I can rest a little bit easier knowing that he also has Edna on the backburner in case he needs her.

A new day dawns on Savannah and Dawn the soccer mom is scurrying from the pantry to the laundry room to the kids closets trying to get everything done in time. She knocks over the giant cauldron of almost boiling water into the fire ruining BOTH the fire and the water. Fire and water - a camp's life blood. Dawn's hands fly to her face as she remembers she left her Xanax in her purse in the back of the station wagon. If she doesn't get her 64 oz. of water a day, her calves will atrophy and she'll humiliate herself in Jazzercise next week. She flits to Nurse Jackie with tears running down her face wondering what to do. Nurse Jackie thinks to himself, "Stop crying woman!" She's making the "old people" target on both himself and her much larger than it needs to be. So, in a soothing voice, he tells her to calm down and take a breath. Dawn panics hearing that she's considered "old" and scurries from one side of camp to the other trying to contribute. She grabs onto a vine and smacks her 40-something body into a pile of rocks while shouting, "I'm good, I'm good! I'm fine. Really *sniffle sniffle* I'm fine."

Sensing that since Ozzy is so chill and could possibly be pocketing some Klonopin, Dawn rushes over to him and begins another crying jag. "I'm just so... it's harder... emotional... losing it... meds... please." Ozzy stands stone-faced chomping on some taro and is like, "Ok whatever. Yeah." That's Ozzy's answer to everything by the way... Hey Ozzy, want some weed? "Ok whatever. Yeah." Hey Ozzy, I'm naked and can't reach the soap, can you get it for me? "Ok whatever. Yeah." Hey Ozzy, I'm freaking out and am thinking of skinning you in your sleep. "Ok whatever. Yeah." In the end, Ozzy never coughed up the good stuff and I'm 99.9% certain that Dawn might be a long lost relative of Crazy Pants (Holly).

After sticking Dawn in a tiny prison of branches and palm leaves, Savannah gets back to work on their camp. Cochran wants to try his hand at opening a coconut and I swear to god I thought we were going to have the first ever Survivor maiming in history. *claps* I was at once excited and horrified as Cochran whacked a machete within inches of his fingers. Ozzy looked on as well thinking, "Ok whatever. Yeah." Ozzy doesn't think much at all of Cochran. He's wimpy, he's nerdy, he's weak, and I can guarantee there's no monkey boy in him. Cochran, however, is relying on his "charm and humor" to keep him in the game. No offense sonny jim, but charm and humor don't win challenges.

Over at Impala with his t-shirt tucked and stretched like a ballerina wrap strategically covering his Hantz family crest tattoos, Hitler's nephew is in the water trying to make himself worthwhile to the tribe. He spears a tiny minnow and thinks his social game is far superior to Hitler's. Sophie watches Hitler's nephew from the beach and she knows... she just knows that something isn't right with him. He's hiding something. She can sense it. With a strategically placed t-shirt, I'm surprised not everyone else could sense it too.

And this brings us to our first imunity challenge. Both tribes will race through Missoni/Target zigzags and through a giant web of coconuts. Once through the coconuts, they'll climb over a 10 foot wall and dig for a machete and use it to chop away at some ropes. The ropes will then release a bin of coconuts. Three tribe members will then shoot the coconuts into a basket. The first tribe to shoot enough coconuts to raise their flag wins. Survivors ready, go!

The tribes go flying through the zigzags keeping pretty much at an even pace. Impala gets through the coconuts first and heads to the wall. They scoop Mary Jane over first as Savannah is now approaching their wall as well. Albert flies over the wall for Impala while Savannah makes the odd choice to scoop Whitney over first. Impala continues getting the men over while Savannah keeps with their women and children first method. Cochran jumps up and down repeatedly and I'm not exactly sure if he thinks he can jump 10 feet or not. He's jumping to no one, to nowhere. Finally, Savannah decides to boost him over and the girls at the top struggle to heave him over. Meanwhile, with only two hands and some wicked back muscles, Albert hoists Hitler's nephew over the wall and Impala races to the next obstacle.

Rancher Rick begins to dig for the machete while Ozzy is trying to get over his wall all by himself. Ok whatever. Yeah. Rancher Rick gets his machete as Ozzy digs for Savannah. Impala releases their coconuts first with Savannah on their tail. Ozzy, Hoops, and Keith shoot coconuts for Savannah while Hitler's nephew, Mikayla, and Albert shoot for Impala. And here is where I explain how Hoops got her nickname. You see, Hoops told her tribe beforehand that she's an expert hoopsmith descendent from the great Eritrean hoopsmiths of yesteryear. There's that, and I held a quick litttle Twitter contest where I asked my followers to give Semhar a name. @GoodGovt won and Hoops was born. Voila!

So, things started off well for Hoops. She gets a couple of coconuts in the basket, but then quickly runs out of steam. She starts flopping coconuts 3 feet from where she stands and I swear I saw one hurl past Nurse Jackie's head. She's shooting at everything but the basket. In desperation, she begs Dimples to let her have a sub and Dimples just sort of laughs at her and says no. Apparently Hoops didn't realize coconuts were so heavy (huh?). She also didn't realize it would take so many to raise the goddamn flag. Meanwhile, coconuts weigh about as much as ping pongs to someone like Mikayla so she's scoring left and right for Impala. Shoot, shoot, shoot, score, score, score... IMPALA WINS IMMUNITY!!!

In addition to immunity, Impala also wins a hidden clue to the hidden immunity idol. The Savannah's look on with bitterness in their hearts as Hoops fiddles with her hair and says she feels "sorta bad". Mary Jane scoffs and crinkles up his nose. He says you don't feel "sorta bad" when you lose immunity. You feel "sorta bad" when you run out of milk. When you lose immunity, you get fucking pissed off is what you get. You get furious. You get... hold up, is someone crying? *sighs* Dawn, not again!

Back at Impala, Coach is milking the victory for all it's worth. He's quoting some obscure Asian philosopher while Christine Temple Black is busy gnawing her nails wondering where the hell that clue is. Eventually, everyone splits up and tries to act very nonchalant about searching for the hidden immunity idol. Spacey sticks her hand into the hole of a tree fondles something stone-like, intricate, and on a cord. She releases it and walks away muttering that she's probably walking right by the Idol and doesn't even know it. *throws hands in air* She just had the... I can't believe she... oh my god! Damn, I'm a genius for naming her Spacey. *smiles to self*

Over at Savannah, the mood is very different. The troops are downtrodden, but Hoops has some damage control to do. She half heartedly apologizes to everyone while simultaneously pointing the finger at Mary Jane and blaming him for making their tribe look weak. It was a weird fight of apologies with Hoops playing the passive aggressive card to a yucky extreme that had me wishing she'd go pen a poem about this and just shut the hell up already. Ozzy looked on in silence (Ok whatever. Yeah.) while Dawn scurried away and hid under a bush to cry.

Out in the water with Whitney, Elyse, Mary Jane, and Keith, Ozzy pitches that perhaps maybe Cochran should be the one to go home. He thinks Dawn proved herself in the challenge, but Cochran is a liability. You can tell Mary Jane isn't exactly thrilled with this suggestion. He knows Ozzy is thinking purely with Little Ozzy rather than what's really best for the tribe. Plus, it's a little strange that Ozzy is so defensive of Hoops this early in the game. Mary Jane doesn't like it one bit and wonders if Ozzy might not have an alliance with all the girls. Perhaps he's a forensic scientist after all because he's right on the money.

Ozzy flat out tells Hoops that it's between her and Cochran and she needs to do some politicking to stay. Annoyed, Hoops makes the rounds and tells everyone to vote for her to stay. She doesn't ask, she tells. Meanwhile, Mary Jane pulls Cochran into the woods and tells him his skinny butt is on the line. As insecurity and a fear of rejection is Cochran's achille's heel, he begins his flustered pacing and is taken right back to when he had to disrobe on the beach. Panic, panic, panic... hey Dawn, did you ever find any Klonopin? To be the first person kicked off is Cochran's nightmare come to life. This is worse than being given a wedgie at school. It's worse than getting a 'B' on a paper. He can't be the first guy voted off! An 11 year dream can't end this quickly, can it? It's flat out insulting that his own tribe would choose to keep Nurse Jackie, Dawn, or anyone female over him. Watch it, Cochran. Mikayla, Sophie, Elyse, and probably even Edna could kick your ass between here and kingdom come. Christ, get Dawn going on one of her hormonal imbalances and even she'd bury your ass. Ozzy has a point in wanting to get rid of you. I'm not sure I'd want you on my tribe either. You're just lucky I happen to find Hoops to be repugnant and talentless.

And now we arrive at our first Tribal Council. Surprisingly, Dawn is very forthcoming about being a basketcase back at camp. She's worried about Redemption Island, she's worried about shelter, she hopes Dimples is eating enough fruits and vegetables. Her shrink must have a bonfire in his office or something. She's entirely too comfortable opening up in this type of setting.

The topic of Hoops comes up and Mary Jane, in not so many words, calls her a sore loser. Hoops covers one eye with her hair and peers seductively out at Dimples while at the same time smirking and trying not to look nervous. She's a flibberty gibbet of shakiness. Everything she's thinking comes out in her mannerisms. Her hands flit, her hair flips, her back sulks, her eyes flutter... she's so very easy to read. It's almost unnerving how easy. With every shoulder flinch and eyeball roll, her confidence melts and a vessel of insecurity sits in it's place.

When it comes Cochran's time to shine, he's prepared and well versed. He makes everyone smile when he says he flew threw that coconut portion like a hummingbird while at the same time looking nerdy in a sweater vest. Dimples is delighted and even Ozzy can't help but smile. The only person not smiling is wicked ole Hoops. She's not smiling. She's snarling. Her nostrils are flaring as the drool begins to drip into the fire. Nurse Jackie interjects and, out of nowhere, tells Dimples to call him "Papa Bear". It's not as delightful as it should be as we already went through the name request thing back on Rhode Island with Cochran.

The conversation continues and the more people talk and the more people reminisce about the competition, the more agitated Cochran gets. He pleads with Dimples to please not say it's time to vote. Dimples is tickled pink and tells him they'll stay as long as they need to. This is their Tribal Council. With the go ahead from Dimples, Cochran attacks Hoops saying all she does is stand by the pot all day. Hoops counters saying she also got everyone toothbrushes. Cochran scoffs, "Twigs!" He cites the cracking of the coconut as a reason to keep him and confesses how mortifying going home first would be. He's a genie in a bottle. Just rub him. What?

Alright, let's get down to it. By a vote of a million to one (I voted 999,999 times) Hoops is the first person voted out of Survivor: South Pacific. So, what did you guys think? I think it's a promising start. Lots of big personalities for us to work with.... conflict, romance, lies, breakdowns. Are you happy Hoops got voted off? Would you have kept Cochran in the game? Are you Team Ozzy or Team Coach? Do we honestly think Brandon can keep the Russell thing a secret? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

Whitney: Country Wrong

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Tue, 13 Sep 2011 19:53:00 +0000

Whitney Duncan hails from the great state of Tennessee and is a country music singer who made the headlines recently when her cousin, Holly Bobo, was abducted from her home. I don't know all that much about the case and it really has nothing to do with Survivor so I'll leave it alone and approach Whitney purely from a game playing standpoint.

Like I said, Whitney is a country music singer which means if I was to ever shake her hand, I'd turn to dust and blow away. Country music is the devil's music. I stand by that. Whitney's inspirations in life are Jesus and Elvis and all I want to know is whether or not she has velvet paintings of both of them in her bathroom. Isn't that where country people put their velvet paintings? The bathroom? Let's check out her video:

No offense Whitney, but I would have no idea who you were if someone hadn't sent me a Facebook message asking, "Is that the same Whitney Duncan with the missing cousin?" Calling yourself a "star" is where you lost me. I think a few days on the island will cure you of that bravado.

I'm not writing her off yet. I'll put her on my wait and see list with that other chick whose name I forgot.

Stacey: Sheppard, That Is

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Tue, 13 Sep 2011 19:37:00 +0000

Stacey is a 44 year old mortician and I like her already based on that fact and that fact alone. The freakiest of the freakies are morticians so I'm expecting all sorts of weird facial tics and disturbingly morbid stories around the campfire from Stacey. Maybe she could disembowel Sophie. Give her a night or two. It could happen.

Stacey's personal claim to fame is that none of her kids have ever been in trouble with the law. I'm not sure how that's a "claim to fame" as it's NORMAL for kids not to be in jail, but whatevs. I've got to hear from the lady herself. Let's check out her video:

Is her last name Sheppard?

I love her! I told you she'd be a freak. Meet your entertainment, folks. I have no idea what she just said, but I'm eating it up with a spoon.

Oh, oh, oh... her new name just came to me - SPACEY. Beauteous.

Sophie: The Know-It-All

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Tue, 13 Sep 2011 19:17:00 +0000

Sophie is a 22 year old medical student from New York who has been bragging for years to her friends how "easy" it would be to win Survivor. She's headstrong and outdoorsy, but I get the feeling that she's also that know-it-all that no one could stand being around. When asked who her inspiration in life is, she replied, "I'm skeptical of lionization of any one person." Look, I know lions are dangerous, but you don't have to be a bitch about it.

She's insufferable on paper. Let's see how she is on video:

Apparently, I was wrong about one thing: she's not insufferable on paper. She's the "smartest person" on paper. The insufferable part comes when she opens her mouth and speaks.

Semhar: Not Your Winner

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Tue, 13 Sep 2011 18:36:00 +0000

Semhar Tadesse is a 24 year old "spoken word artist". Translated, that means she's unemployed and sometimes talks all angry like on open mic nights. Semhar is obsessed with Oprah which is odd because I think Oprah's first piece of advice to Semhar would be "Get a job!" I saw Semhar on that TV Guide special and she's a major pain in the ass so I'm writing this post with all sorts of preconceived notions.

On her CBS.com bio, Semhar compares herself to Fabio because she's "silly". The only thing silly about Semhar is the fact that she thinks "spoken word artist" is an occupation. This chick isn't winning and she definitely isn't making it to the merge. That's my prediction. Here's her video:

Rick: Whisker Warrior

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 14:38:00 +0000

Rancher Rick is 51 and hails from the great polygamist state of Utah. He wears an enormous hat and likes to "play on his horse". Like every other player from south of the Mason Dixon line, he cites J.T. as the Survivor he most admires. I'll bet he wouldn't say that if he knew J.T. slept with that hot mess Sugar, but I digress.

Rancher Rick has applied for Survivor 14 times and I totally dig that. I love that he never gave up and kept plugging away. Now, I'm sure most of you are thinking exactly what I'm thinking right now - "Will Colette Lala get to type in that crazy country talk again this year?" Well, let's see:

Glorious. That moustache is glorious. Unfortunately, we can understand every word he says and it looks like I'm off the hook for tappin' lahk thess, but Rick is good people. He's tenacious and seems to know the ins and outs of the game. I fear he won't last long, but until he moseys on out that door, I'll make macaroni art in honor of that luscious 'stache.

Mikayla: There's No Crying In Panties

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 14:03:00 +0000

Mikayla Wingle is a 22 year old lingerie football player. *sigh* Allow me to repeat that... lingerie. football. player. Based on that fact alone, I don't know how I could possibly like her. How am I supposed to take anyone seriously who plays football in a bra and panties? You don't see those bad ass soccer chicks running around in garters, do you? Thank you for setting feminism back to A League Of Their Own Mikayla, thank you.

Oh here we go... the player Mikayla says she most identifies with is Jungle Jane because she stood up for herself and never "let her morals go". Pssh! Jane was no saint. Besides, who the hell wants a player with morals? I know I don't, do you? Of course you don't. If you did you wouldn't be reading this blog with no pants on. To the video!

Ugh. The 25 tank tops, the flower in her hair, the giant goofy earrings, and the need to defend her "occupation"... nope, not for me. She'll be a cornflake like that girl whose name I forgot from last season. Maybe I'll call her Bran Muffin. I'll workshop it and get back to you.

Mark: Nurse Jackie

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 13:39:00 +0000

Next up on our list of victims is 48 year old retired NYPD Morgue Detective, Mark Caruso. As I would think a morgue would be an easy place to find (just look for the sign outside that says MORGUE), this is probably a made up occupation. Besides, who retires at 48?

I caught a little snippet of Mark on that TV Guide Network Survivor special so I know he's out and he's proud. He's a soft cuddly bear who talks like a Soprano, but at the same time would probably brow beat an old lady to get his hands on a set of fetching damask curtains. I could learn to love him. Let's check out his video:

Aww, how cute is he? Yo Mark, CBS.com got your age wrong or one of youse is lyin'.

Since Mark is sassy, cuddly, and left his job as a ruthless morgue finder to become a registered nurse, I hereby dub him *drum roll* Nurse Jackie! I don't know how long Nurse Jackie will last as I think he may be a bit of a clutz when it comes to challenges, but I like his determination and he's got a good attitude. Best of luck Nurse Jackie. Now, how 'bout a scrip for some oxy's?

Keith: Don't Touch The Hair!

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 14:57:00 +0000

26 year old Keith Tollefson hails from the great state of Minnesota and works as a water treatment tech. I think that's a nice way of saying he wades around in pee. I'm not sure. Anyhow, Keith is very proud of the fact that he graduated college and moved to Hawaii for two years. As an avid surfer, it was his dream to bum around the North Shore and catch some gnarly waves. I once went through a surf phase where I wore a lot of Roxy and used bikini tops as bras. I didn't actually surf, but I watched Blue Crush a lot so I think that counts.

Keith hates it when people talk behind his back and that makes me wonder if he'll ever read this blog. He also dislikes rude people and that makes me think he definitely won't be reading this blog. Let's check out his video and see what he has to offer:

Is he related to John Travolta and is that Eve's boob tattoo on his arm? I've got to be honest, I'm not feeling Keith too much. His hair is too distracting. I'm jealous of it's volume and poofiness. And did he say something about having to change his batteries every 8 or 9 years? That could be fun if he's a robot. A robot of a guy from Minnesota trying desperately to fill the mold of a surfer. Personality wise he's kind of a dud. I hope I'm wrong though because Staying Alive is my favorite movie and I'm chock full of Travolta quotes.

John: You Must Acquit

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 14:31:00 +0000

Harvard Law student John Cochran was born into his vocation. With a name like Johnny Cochran, you can't not be a lawyer. It's like a girl named Destiny not being a stripper or a guy named Jeeves not being a butler. Johnny Boy had no choice but to study the law and study the law he shall.

A Northern Virginia boy (holla!), Johnny describes himself as neurotic, insecure, and brilliant. *smiles* Bless you Johnny, bless you. I think we're going to have a lot of fun together this season. It's that sort of honesty and quirkiness that I embrace. I predict he's nerdy to the core, probably eccentric as hell, and I'm betting on an interesting mix of insecurity and narcissism that only a really smart yet insanely awkward person can deliver. Let's see if I'm right:

Yup. Nailed it. *rubs hands together* Delicious. I'm predicting clumsiness coupled with a resentful vindictiveness. It'll be interesting to see how he maneuvers himself within the game and whether or not he has the ability to mindfuck players within an inch of their lives. Good luck Johnny. You're going to need it.

The cast is looking up, don't you think?

Jim: Don't Bogart That Can, Man

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 14:03:00 +0000

This is Jim. You know what Jim does for a living? He's a medical marijuana dispenser and I am hereby renaming him "Mary Jane". Mary Jane has also worked on Wall Street and won over 40 poker tournaments. As poker players tend to be total dicks, my hopes are sky high for Mary Jane. Get it? "High"... I'm here all week folks.

Alright, I've got to see Mary Jane's video. Please don't let me down, please don't let me down...

You know what? I like him. I'm down with Mary Jane. Confident, spontaneous, big personality... that's the recipe I'm looking for. Now someone mix that into some brownie batter and let's party.

Elyse: Enchantingly Verbose

noreply@blogger.com (Colette Lala) — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 13:28:00 +0000

Next up is 27 year old Las Vegas resident and dance team manager, Elyse. Elyse was second runner up is Miss America and cites wet laundry as one of her pet peeves. She loves to bake cupcakes, amass useless trivia, and read memoirs. Leave out the cupcake part and we could be sisters. Tortured artsy female memoirs and biographies cover almost every tabletop in my house. How many books on Anais Nin one gal needs, I do not know, but I've got enough to wallpaper your basement.

If you drink decaf, Elyse wants nothing to do with you and if you're a pretty girl in ugly shoes... forget about it! Elyse will give you the hand and dance away. Apparently, pretty girls should wear pretty shoes. Does that rule hold true for ugly girls? Should they only wear ugly shoes? What if you're having a bad hair day and you've got a pimple on your chin? Do you have to break out the clogs and push the Jimmy Choo's to the back of closet? Elaborate Elyse! You can't just toss out a rule like that and not include the bylaws.

One of the words Miss Elyse uses to describe herself is "enchanting". Enchanting isn't a word you can appoint yourself! Enchanting is a word you let someone with a velvet smoking jacket and monogrammed loafers use to describe you. Alright, let's see how enchanting this Elyse chick really is:

And the award for most words crammed into 90 seconds goes to....

Jesus Christ. She's a piece of work, isn't she? I've never heard someone talk that fast and say so many nice things about themselves in so little time. This one we'll definitely have to keep an eye on. I'm not sure she's villain material, but she'll definitely be a stand out. This is the sort of big personality and confident demeanor I've been ranting about over and over again about on my Bitchy Big Brother Blog. She's exactly the type of person you want to see on a reality show. No way she'll be hiding in the shadows.