Monday, May 13, 2013
If I had a band, I would call it 'Symbiotic Reciprocity'. Just a lute and a pan flute. Strings plucked and air kissed creating whimsical jaunty melodies. Working in tandem and feeding off of one another as pairs are often wont to do. Ribbons and lace, earth and sky, muses and nymphs, dimples and tweets, gin and glitter, dogs and bars. When two ideas, two entities, two seemingly uninspired attempts at greatness make love and absorb each other's essence, something fragrant and sweet is created. When once isn't enough, twice is always better. Why be alone when you can be together? Give and take. Take and give. If at first you don't succeed, try again a second time. Two. Dos. Deux. Due. Zwei. Hard syllables firm in declaration. Teeth separated by something soft and moist. Little enamel enunciations spelling out so much more than words. It has been a harrowing sojourn in Southeast Asia. We've been down and then down again. Once, twice, maybe three times we soared for the briefest of breaths. Only to crash face first in the mud and the sludge. Dizzy, confused and desperate, we sloshed about yearning for our high again. One thing we didn't do was give up. And neither did our intrepid victor. Give up and you can never smile at your own reflection. Give up and an understudy will sweep in to take over. Give up and the play will continue without you. But persist... persist!... and you might find your pocket lined with one million ducats (a cigarette butt and a used condom if you're Jeff Kent). Let's recap, shall we?
We continue our sultry saga under the cover of night. Blackness in our souls and blackness in the air. The only light is the soft reflection from that eternal full moon. Have you ever noticed how the moon never wanes in The Philippines? It is always robust, always hearty, always there to light our way and reveal our inner icky. Speaking of icky, the shaggiest of poodles teeters apprehensively on bony limbs. He grabs a tree branch and tries to steady himself, but the world whizzes by at breakneck speed. Plants, trees, monkeys, tarsiers, the coconut singers... whoosh! When the tree branch too escapes his grip and swirls on by, Erik collapses into a hairy pile while firmly clutching his head. It began back at Tribal Council. What was one Dimple became two Dimples and then three and then four. The fire spurted and sputtered seeming to swallow up the entire cast. He tried to ignore it. I mean, why not? Watching Phillip engulfed in a fiery inferno isn't so bad, is it? But when the fire and the visions and the world continued to twirl, Erik knew this was much much more than wishful thinking.
The remaining Survivors failed to make it out of the Tribal Council staging area before Erik's collapse. And it's a good thing too. A hundred yards more into the jungle thick and Dimples would have been back in his opium den planning his next talk show. Lucky for everyone involved, he's still here to offer a sympathetic hand.
Dr. Joe and Dr. Jen are quickly ushered in to give Erik the once over. With his blood pressure plummeting and the coconut singers still doing their do-si-do's, Erik is diagnosed with malnutrition, dehydration, low blood pressure, acid flashbacks and being terminally boring. Now, I'm not a doctor - although I sometimes play one in this here blog - but Erik just ate earlier in the day! Or did he? Was he too busy making hearts with his arms and giving the Darrell's head noogies to sit down and enjoy one of Bubba Cochran's burgers? How many calories a day does a person contemplating a grain of sand need? Let's not forget, this is the guy who goes on every Reward. Pfft!
And so, after some quick poking and prodding, Dr. Joe concludes that there isn't enough blood getting to Erik's head (I've been saying this since day one!) and he must be pulled from the game. Hearing this news, a slow smile spreads across Cochran's face. He tries to hide it by covering his mouth with his hand, but we know he's twirling his mustache behind those dirty nails of his. He knows the scraggly hippy in the sand just made him one million dollars richer. We can pretend that Theddie (Eddie) and Calgon (Dawn) are threats. We can tell ourselves that Theddie has his bros on the Jury and Calgon is the old lady in the shoe struggling to feed her children, but we know better than that. Cochran knows better than that! And if I didn't know any better, I'd say Bubba laced Erik's burger with arsenic, old lace and some sort of neurotoxin undetectable by your average toxicology tests.
Back at Edamame (Enil Edam), Cochran shuffles his feet across the peace sign in the sand while stifling giggles. The three players left aren't really a threat to him, but there is the off chance that Theddie could actually win the next Immunity Challenge. If that is the case, then Cochran needs to get to Theddie before anyone else can. Theddie is the one person that Cochran hasn't bothered to bond with so whether or not Theddie stays or goes, it is in Cochran's best interest to start feigning fascination with boobs, beers, and bros. But before Cochran can study up on beer pong and spring break in Daytona, it is Theddie who makes the first move on Cochran. The way Theddie sees it, Cochran has the best chance of winning if he goes to the final three with Freebush (Sherri) and himself. The two shake on what we know to be a very flimsy final three deal.
And this brings us to the big Reward Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's Challenge, you will use one hand to steady a balancing board while the other attempts to build a house of cards. The first person to build their house high enough wins an advantage in the final Immunity Challenge. Umm, I need to interject here - NO advantages in any way, shape or form should be given at this juncture in the game. Final Immunity should be won on your own merits. There is too much at stake for, let's say, a hugely unfair advantage to propel you into the finals. More on that later. Survivors ready, go!
I'm going to cruise this real quick because we've got a cantankerous jury to get to. Build, build, build, fall, fall, fall. Hands shaking like leaves. Freebush could never be Lady Justice. The scales of truth and fairness would slide into the dirt and the entire judicial system would lose all value. Build, fall, build, fall... COCHRAN WINS REWARD!!! Calgon promptly rushes him and applies a thick layer of compliments and that motherly guilt she's so darn good at. If "Congratulations" was an Olympic sport, Calgon would be champion of the universe.
Back at Edamame, Cochran is basking in the glow of his Reward win. And like that food challenge win, he won this last Reward Challenge fair and square. If I pull out my abacus and do some swift adding, that would make 2 Challenge wins for the lad. The one where he held onto 10 pounds of weight as the others held onto 2000 doesn't count and I will forever, until the end of time, refuse to count it. Cochran, on the other hand, counts it, gilds it, mounts it and polishes it. He is proud of those 3 (read: 2) wins. Now, I may not add the same as Cochran does and I may bitch endlessly about it, but the one thing those wins are doing for Cochran, the one thing I can never take away from him, is the effect they are having on his self esteem. To a person whose number one enemy is himself, that little extra oomph is invaluable.
On the other end of the spectrum we have Freebush. As interesting as bark and about as noteworthy as some sand in your bikini bottoms, Freebush is overflowing with self esteem - to a disturbing degree. Isn't that a pisser? A likable cerebral guy with a biting wit like Cochran fights day in and day out to wave away doubt and insecurity while a leathery broad who is about as interesting as a carpet fiber has too much self esteem for her own good. But the thing about an overabundance of self esteem is that delusion is commonly a byproduct. You see, Freebush has decided that she wants to go to the end with Theddie and Cochran. In that tanned hide she calls a head, she has decided that Calgon is too much of a threat were she to make it to the final three. With her tears and wallet photos of her 6 shoeless children, the Jury will have no choice but to award Calgon the million dollars.
And then we have Calgon. Nervous Nelly Calgon who has been the center of much Survivor chatter this past weekend. Others scoff and attack when she drops the Mormon act and loses her cool, but I, on the other hand, love those moments of paranoia and anger. Those glimpses behind the perfect facade are what I live for. Sitting around watching a do gooding Mormon mom whisk eggs and dustbust under the refrigerator is boring. But the loss of control, the red face, the angry fists, the accidental profanity... that's life, baby. That's the good stuff. Those primal urges that no matter how hard you try to suffocate, always, always, have a funny way of rising to the surface. Having said that, entertaining as her paranoia may be, it is tiresome and exhausting for someone like Cochran to have to deal with on a daily basis. Cochran has his own demons to conquer and quell. Having to babysit Calgon and whatever new emotion she is about to discover is proving to be not only difficult, but dangerous. Could Cochran screw up his game if, out of pure exhaustion, he drops Calgon? He'll have plenty of time to mull it over in this next segment...
... where a bunch of people died and I took the opportunity to pour myself another tumbler of gin. I boycotted the In Memoriam segment years ago and that boycott continues today.
And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's Challenge, you will race up a three story tower and untie a bag of puzzle pieces. Once you have your bag, you will launch yourself down a slide and drop your bag at your puzzle desk. Once you've collected all three bags, you will then construct a demon hellfire puzzle of Hantzian proportions. The first person to finish their puzzle wins Immunity and will secure their place in the final three. Cochran, since you won that advantage that has no business existing this late in the game, you will have all of your bags already untied for you. Survivors ready, go!
The Challenge begins as the remaining Survivors burst forth. Up the stairs they go. Some taking one step at a time and some skipping two by two. But what we didn't realize, what we couldn't possibly have anticipated, is that those puzzle bags are tied into place using the most complicated nautical knots known to man. Alpine Butterfly intricately tangled with a Carrick Bend. A pesky Poacher's Knot wrapped around a Trucker's Hitch. Quick nimble fingers can tangle with the knots as agile as you please, but Cochran has already collected his last bag and is starting his puzzle.
Thankfully, the puzzle is much harder than it sounds. The flames of the ninth ring of hell are not only wily and deceptive, but they are wiggedy whack in nature. Flit, poof, hiss! Sputter, spoot, crackle! Even the most cunning of minds have difficulty navigating the chaos. And so, with all four players finally at the puzzle desks, Freebush makes a stunning Challenge debut (I say "debut" since she has drowned in all of the other Challenges up until now) and actually begins to lock in some puzzle pieces. Calgon is right behind her placing several pieces of her own. Poor Theddie and Cochran duck and weave under the raging flames while the women, probably used to hot flashes, simply perspire and trundle onward.
Cochran's lead has effectively vanished, but you kind of have to wonder where he'd be if he actually had to untie those bags. Would Freebush and Calgon be farther along? Would Theddie have traded in his buffoon giggles for actual concentration? We can "what if" ourselves until we're loco in the cabeza. It won't change the fact that that was a ridiculous advantage for such a crucial Challenge because... COCHRAN WINS IMMUNITY!!!
One more win and one more notch on Cochran's belt. Why, the lad is quite plainly arrogant at this point. In his mind, he has just won a million dollars. And while I agree with him wholeheartedly, I find the grandstanding to be a little off putting. The "now I have to decide who wins second place" is very Cochran of yesteryear. You remember him, don't you? The one his entire tribe hated with a burning passion. Catching that glimpse of vintage Cochran peeking through makes what he has done this season all the more remarkable. Imagine the effort it took to bite his tongue for the past 39 days. The restraint he had to hone in order to come across as not only nonthreatening, but likable. If he really wanted to, he could probably be a fantastic serial killer.
And then we have Theddie. Universally likable and silly. With not a strategic bone in his body, Theddie is smiles and jokes. He'll rip the top off of a beer with his teeth and leer openly at women's breasts, but we can't hate him! He is good times and noodle salad. A simple man with a simple dream to unite his two loves in life - dogs and beer. Puppy dogs are adorable and furry and well, beer is beer! Combine the two in a beachside establishment called Waggin' Tails Pub and you've got yourself more than a million dollars, my friend. You've got yourself the best idea since gin and glitter.
And this brings us to Tribal Council. I have to admit I was a little surprised when Erik came trotting in with the Jury. Call me crazy, but if you're pulled from the game, then shouldn't you be pulled from the Jury? It seems odd that one would retain full Jury privileges after a medical emergency. If it was a broken leg, they wouldn't be wheeling him in on a stretcher would they?
Nevertheless! Here we are and that barking mad entrepreneur, Theddie, is OK with Erik getting pulled from the game since he was under the impression that the Erik, Calgon and Freebush had a final three alliance. Whether this is true or not, we'll never know. The fact remains that Cochran couldn't be more pleased, or lucky, that Erik was about to walk into the light.
And so, as a wise man once said, "likability is a liability" as Theddie is the 17th person voted out of Survivor Caramoan. Good luck with Bars & Barks, my friend. Be sure to invite me to the opening.
The next day at Edamame the mood is relaxed and everyone is loosey goosey for the most part. They know a feast is coming and it is just a matter of watching the sun descend into the ocean before Cochran has the biggest night of his life. In the meantime though, Freebush is working on her closing arguments and wondering how one would define the word "pawn". Cochran, reclining in a bamboo beach chair, replies, "Pawns are worthless, basically. No strategic input. No strengths. And, they're expendable." Freebush nods and whispers, "OK." She looks down at the notepad in her hand and scratches out the word "pawn". That clearly won't work when trying to convince the Jury she should win. What about some of the other words on her list? "Sacrificial lamb", hostage, victim... Oh wait, here's one! Superfluous. It has super in it so it must be good. Superfluous it is!
And through the magic of time, here we are at the final Tribal Council. It has taken months to get here. Tens of thousands of words typed. Hours upon hours of thinking up different ways to describe things like air, water and acid trips. We laughed, we cringed, we cried, we threatened to slice our wrists with whatever sharp object we could find, but we made it. We did it! We made some new friends, caught up with old friends, drank too little, drank too much. We stumbled barefoot through day after's and somehow still managed to emerge with our dignity (long gone) and our nipples sparkling. What a long strange trip it has been.
And now gentle ladies and gentlemen, we will hear the opening statements from our finalists.
Calgon stands demurely while hiding the pickaxe in her flowing skirts...
"I look at all of you, my children, and I am deeply humbled. *a ninja star falls out of her bra and hits the ground* You know how difficult this has been for me this season... *she stares accusingly at the entire front row* don't you? Mother doesn't like it when her children disobey her." *a pipe bomb slides out of her headband* I gave myself permission to play the game because god knows you ungrateful brats haven't given me spit!" And then she covered her face and cried while using the tiptoe of her Ked to nudge the pipe bomb under Cochran's seat. I think she's grown this season, don't you?
Freebush is up next. She stands in a baggy pair of pants I'd wish she'd worn more throughout the season and then *plop!* she falls over and drools into the dirt. Cochran and Dimples almost lean over to help her, but decide, in the end, that it's not worth the effort.
Cochran is up last and, let's get real, the kid went to law school. He has literally studied how to address a Jury. He knows what words to put where, when to sound authoritative ("I had to be Calgon's therapist") and when to appear humble ("I wore a Survivor buff to school and wrote a Survivor newsletter!"). He has spent 13 years crafting this final speech and it shows. He is clear and concise with that perfect touch of whimsy.
And now, Jury, it is your turn to address the Finalists. First up is *dims the lights* Golden Boy (Malcolm). He begins by approaching Freebush and placing a paper bag over her head. He then tells Calgon and Cochran that his vote is still up in the air. Next, he does something interesting. Instead of asking Calgon a question, he offers her up some advice. He tells her that she needs to come out and admit that she's a cold-blooded (killer). Just admit it! Admit you stabbed people in the back. Admit you betrayed your closest friends. Embrace it and admit it. Golden Boy doesn't care for the innocent mommy facade when Aileen Wuornos is lurking underneath that gingham polishing her gun. To Cochran he asks, "What quality do you have that I don't?" And then he took off his shirt and let his hair down. Cochran had nothing to say. And neither did we.
Next up is the owner of Woofs & Giggles - Tuesday night is Bitches Night! Theddie, looking a little like Tony Manero, asks Freebush if she is finally ready to admit that she has been carried to the finals. Freebush does that clenched smile thing that is so infuriating and shakes her head no. The Jury erupts into a fit of giggles and, in that moment, Freebush's world, her onion fries, her Dorito pizza and her Chalupa nuggets all came crashing down around her. The Jury started throwing packets of ketchup and mild sauce at her head as she covered herself with a napkin.
And this brings us to *snaps to attention and salutes* Phillip Sheppard. "Freebush, by the power vested in me as a crackerjack girl scout, I am hereby stripping you of all of your merit badges. You will henceforth be forbidden to attend the annual jamboree. Your cookies will be confiscated and divided up amongst my myself." He then turns to Calgon, "Calgon, since I have been living at Ponderosa, I have had the great fortune to study acting with Dame Reynold..." And then he burst into tears and starting clawing at the ground. The Dame sat in the mezzanine and watched carefully through his opera glasses. Vocal projection - good. Subtlety and nuance - needs work.
Erik, that peaceful guy dying from malnutrition a day earlier, is up next. He spits at Calgon, "Are you aware of the damage you caused?" Damage? *looks around the room* The damage of, oh I don't know, voting out a strategic player and playing the game? Is that the damage you're talking about, Erik? This isn't a Phish concert. We're not passing around nitrous balloons and adhering to the honor code. This is a game for a million dollars. Calgon replies that she was simply playing the game and staying loyal to her alliance. It was a true answer to a moronic question and I applaud Calgon for it.
Next up is Gay (Michael). We didn't really get to know Gay, but he has always struck me as a level-headed kind of a guy. And level-headed he is indeed. Out of all of the Jurors, Gay is the only one to recognize that even though Cochran and Calgon essentially played the same game and voted the same week in and week out, only Calgon is getting the backlash from the victimized Jurors. And while this point is astute and accurate, it also further highlights the finesse in which Cochran played his game compared to how Calgon played hers.
Everyone, shh. The great actress of stage and screen is up next and I have been deprived of his charms for much much too long. *the curtain parts*
"If we Jurors have offended
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but stumbled here
While all these vision did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
Fans versus Favorites, what a scream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck
Freebush, you do really doth suck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck, a liar call;
Do it to me Calgon,
Make me bawl!
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And this Dame shall restore amends."
And then he dropped a handkerchief as the crowd rose to their feet. *tear*
Then Mascaroni (Andrea) got up and said something nice. She's not bitter, she's grateful. *yawn* Next!
I've written and rewritten this next part several times and, for some reason, it's not coming out right. Stooping to the level of someone I find so abhorrent isn't what I want to do here. Instead, I'll just keep it simple...
Calgon, you've been a great friend to the blog. Not only did you laugh when I compared you to the mom in Psycho, but you played such a consistently interesting game that I was able to have some whacky fun with your character. Thank you so much for your support. I hope we get to see you back on social media soon. Love ya lady! And congratulations! Final three!!!
And with a whoosh and our hair blowing in the breeze, we arrive at the Survivor Reunion. I took one look at that devilishly handsome Golden Boy sitting there with his hair down and I knew - I knew! - that it was going to be a good night indeed. The stars were twinkling, Dimples was smiling, and there was a rightness in the air.
So, let's get to it, by a vote of 800,000 to zero, COCHRAN HAS WON SURVIVOR CARAMOAN!!!! Congratulations you spindly fop. You not only played a more mature game this time around, but you played a patient game. And that, I believe, was the key to your success.
But wait, there's more! A million dollars (a dead cockroach and some kite string if you're Jeff Kent) is nice and all, but it pales in comparison to this awesomeness:
*runs to drag the baby pool full of glitter that I keep on standby for such occasions* Come on everyone, we're all diving in. I broke through the fourth wall and that sassy Dimples actually said my name. It's naked time!
So, that's that. What did you think of Survivor Caramoan? Did the right person win? Why did Boston Rob get more airtime than people who actually played the game? Who wants to hit up Bitches Night at the Waggin' Tail Pub with me? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!
I will see you back here in September for Survivor: There Will Be Blood or whatever the hell they're calling it. You can also find me this summer at the Bitchy Big Brother Blog and as a co-host on the Big Brother Gossip Show.
If you've enjoyed what I've done here this season, please click on my PayPal button and show a bitch some love.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Romans 7:20: Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
Sin lives inside each and every one of us. Primal, vengeful, carnal, delicious sin. But if you neglect that kernel of ickiness, it will begin to fester, begin to bubble, begin to boil up through squishy innards and out through tiny holes where enamel once stood. When the pearly whites hit the earth, the blackened holes left in their wake gave a sinister peek into the darkness within us. The blackness of that inner demon waiting for an exit strategy. Sloshing in the bile and acid, he waits. He waits for good deeds gone bad, for humility masked in cunning craftiness, and then he strikes. Like a cobra to its prey, that once formerly dormant serpent uncoils and snaps everything - twigs, bark, bamboo, necks. Snap, crackle, pop, ye innocents. Crunch, you bystanders. Mrs. Hyde is spitting mad and now you will all suffer the consequences. Let's recap, shall we?
Our fertile fable continues with an effete foible at first light. Shaggy, worn, and depleted, Erik narrows his eyes at the rising sun while Theddie (Eddie), covered in filth and resignation, contemplates his Survivor dating history. Every girl he has ever laid eyes on has been vaporized. One second they're standing there as innocent as you please and the next second they are nothing more than a strand of blonde hair in the sand. But today, with no more fair eligible women to smile crookedly at, Theddie feels his time here in The Philippines is coming to a close. Unless, of course, he wins Immunity. If Theddie wins Immunity at the next Challenge, bespectacled chalky fop Cochran might be the one getting his walking papers. Theddie thinks it is only a matter of time before Cochran's alliance turns on him. They turned on one of their own last week, what's stopping them from doing it again?
What, indeed. Not a stone's throw away from Cochran on the beach checking his body for an expiration date, sits Calgon (Dawn) and Mowgli (Brenda) discussing what to do in the case that Theddie pulls out an Immunity win. Mowgli, having tasted the sweet syrupy goodness of a backstabbing last night, has an indescribable lust for it now. Like a drug, the idea of another blindside courses through her veins as she suggests to Calgon that they go after Cochran next. And here is where Calgon confirms the secret alliance I was wondering about just last week. While listening to Mowgli suggest blindsiding Cochran, Calgon reveals to us that while the idea isn't completely out of the realm of possibility, she has a little something-something going with Cochran and Freebush (Sherri). And just like that, the mystery of why the hell Freebush is still around is suddenly solved. What I'm wondering now is if Cochran actively sought out a Golden Girls alliance from the get go or was it something that developed organically over time? Perhaps it was a group love of cheesecake, needlepoint, and checkers on the lanai that brought them together.
While most of the camp sits and schemes, that poodle Erik is halfheartedly carving another notch into his calendar tree. *sigh* He's been playing Survivor for 70 days now (mind you, 70 days spread over 5 years) and he knows he should be happy right now, but he's not. It's exhausting lying around and doing nothing! It's backbreaking work napping in the sand and not fishing. Making finger trails in the sun all day will suck the life out of anyone, I'll have you know. Do you have any idea how many calories it takes to sing Rusted Root songs in your head 24/7? 'Send Me On My Way' alone is worth a good 50 if you flail your arms from beginning to end. All that twirling and arm waving, along with copious amounts of LSD, has left the tribe hippy depleted and spent.
Now when he looks up to the sky through the leaves of the palm trees, all he sees are coconuts mocking him. Their hairy heads bobbing up and down to 'Peace Frog' - Blood in the streets it's up to my ankles... What were once friendly fruits are now taunting demons. Demons that must be sacrificed. With a machete in his teeth and dilated pupils, Erik begins to inch his way up the precarious trunk of the tree housing the demon coconuts. But about half way up the tree, the visions begin. Visions of his lanky body tumbling down the tree and onto the blade of his machete. The color red singing to him as Dr. Ramona drags his lifeless corpse away leaving a sticky bloody trail in the sand. Blinking his eyes in an effort to quiet the echoes of a cackling Dr. Ramona, Erik second guesses his skyward climb and instead pushes play on the Blues Traveler in his mind. The scene ends with our defeated ball of hair staring upward and mouthing the words of 'Run Around' right along with the coconut singers... Once upon a midnight dreary, I woke with something in my head...
After a morning of disappointment, our remaining Survivors finally get some good news in the form of a Sprint telephone. Before Theddie can figure out how to turn the damn thing on, Calgon tackles him to the ground and screams, "No! Nooooo!!!" I love it when Calgon gets overtaken by her emotions and hollers things she doesn't mean. It's nice to see her let loose and unleash her violent side, but more on that later. So yeah, these chuckleheads are all a mess of tears and snot at the idea of seeing their loved ones send their stock messages of, "We're so proud of you. Everyone is doing well." Just once I want someone, someone like my mom, to be like, "Your sister has a new boyfriend. Why can't you find a boyfriend? You know, you're the oldest. You should be married already. Are you not giving me grandchildren because I sold your car that one time you went to New York?" Wouldn't a little honesty be refreshing?
Instead we get Mowgli's dad, Calgon's husband, Freebush's husband, Cochran's mom, Theddie's dad and Erik's brother doing that same old same old, "We're so very proud of you." My mother, the modern day Mrs. Bennet, won't be proud until she's married off her three daughters to Russian billionaires and is sipping margaritas from her terrace in San Miguel De Allende. She's a trip (and completely insane), my mother.
And this brings us to the big Reward Challenge. Come on in guys! The Survivors stand on tippy toes bubbling with excitement because they know what's about to happen. Let's trot out your loved ones!
First up is Mowgli's dad, Raymond. Raymond is the man we can all blame for Mowgli being a bore this season. After seeing her behavior on her first season, Raymond advised his daughter to be humble this time around. "Humble" equals "thumping bore" when it comes to Survivor. Thanks for nothing Raymond!
It is here that Dimples sneakily rubs some bengay on his eyes and pretends to cry. Tears equals ratings, baby!
Quick Mark, get a close up!
Next up is Erik's brother Justice. I mean, Richard. Brother! Brother! Brothers gotta hug.
Next we discover that Freebush is married to one of her teenage drive-thru workers. Come on out Jared!
The music then turns wistful and dreamy as Cochran's mom Arlene, with a fabulous pair of silver hoop earrings, embraces her son. Arlene reminds me of that wonderful art teacher we all had in high school. She always wore turquoise jewelry and Birkenstocks while whimsically describing a Vermeer with wild hand gestures. I definitely think Arlene has taken a pottery class. As a matter of fact, she's probably served Cochran cereal in misshapen earthenware bowls since he was a toddler. Precious.
And then we meet my favorite - Big Ed! Big Ed is jovial and funny. He's the life of the party with a heart of gold. In one fell swoop, he lifts up his grown son and smothers him with kisses. I loved it.
Finally, we're about to meet Calgon's husband, Dave. But not before Calgon does that opposite thing again and shrieks "No! Nooo!!! NOOOOO!!!!" into the trees. Dave isn't sure whether to run away or to run into his wife's arms. He opts for running into her arms and for a second I thought we'd get a little make out sesh. Calgon squeezes him tight and writhes against him before remembering she's Mormon and ending the reunion with a simple peck. Buzzkill Calgon!
For today's Challenge, you are going to compete with your loved one. You and your loved one will spin around in circles unscrewing rails. Once you've unscrewed all three rails, you will toss bolos onto them. The first pair to toss three bolos onto their rails wins Reward. The winning pair will get to devour an enormous barbecue feast just feet from your camp. You not only win food, but you win the privilege of rubbing it into the losers faces. Survivors ready, go!
The Challenge begins with Arlene giggling on the breeze and Freebush yelling at her husband to slow down. Erik and his brother quickly take the lead freeing their first rail with Mowgli and Raymond right behind them. The remaining Survivors begin to straggle in with their first rails leaving only Cochran and Arlene back at the start. It is here where Dimples takes his opportunity to hit on Cochran's mom.
"How old you are you Arlene?"
"She's about to turn 64 in a few weeks."
"Looking good, baby!"
"Stop hitting on my mom, Dimples!"
Alright, let's cruise to the end of the Challenge where we have a showdown between Mowgli, Calgon and Freebush. All have two bolos on their rails and it's a race to land the next one. Mowgli, who has been consistently missing her rails, passes her last bolo to Raymond who lands it and MOWGLI WINS REWARD!!!
Now it is Mowgli's chance to pick someone to join her on her Reward. Since Calgon is her best "I lost my teeth in a stank ass pond" friend, she picks Calgon and the four winners are as happy as they can be. But wait, there's more! Here's another Sprint phone and looky inside - more loved ones! For the first time in Survivor history there is a second set of loved ones living inside the phone. We have Cochran's dad, Freebush's son, Erik's other brother Darrell, Theddie's mom, Calgon's best friend and Mowgli's sister. Mowgli, you can choose one other Survivor and their loved one to enjoy a barbecue feast OR you can let all those other schmucks party with BOTH of their loved ones while you watch them from a laughingly close distance. What are you gonna do Mowgli? With Calgon wailing in the background, Mowgli doesn't even blink an eyelash as she decides to let the others have their loved ones.
Mowgli made her own bed and now she has to lie in it. Not only does she have to lie in it, but she has to lie in it while the crazy Mormon by her side completely loses her shit. Yessss! Sophie's Choice meet Psycho. At home I snickered to myself because I knew, I knew, that Calgon's inner demon was reaching its breaking point and I can't wait!
While you all grab your crucifixes and holy water (trust me, you'll need them), let us whisk ourselves to the Duffy offshore. We've got brewskis, some Jimmy Buffet playing and Bubba Cochran on the grill flipping burgers. Just a lazy day enjoying Duffy life. Now, I don't know if you've ever been on a Duffy, but they're like floating patios. They never take you very far and you basically just sit on them and do what could very well be done on your back porch. But they're on the water and that's what makes them neat! I can tell you many a story of sitting 10 feet offshore with a box of wine and some chinese take out. On the water that box is a bottle of Chateau Lafite and the Kung Pao is an exquisite Ming Tsai creation. Everything tastes better on a boat.
(I know Duffy isn't the correct term, but it's what I know and it sounds better than "floating dock")
So while Freebush is frantically reconnecting her umbilical cord to her son and Cochran is mystified by his cool daddy-o, one lady watches it all through gritted teeth from a nearby beach. Her name is Caldracula and not only does she like to pummel inanimate objects with her fists, but she also likes to spit! Toxic lethal venom spit. One drop of it on you and that body part shrivels up, turns to ash, and then falls off. Caldracula doesn't like to have things waved in front of her - things like her husband - only to have them so brutally taken away. Teasing Caldracula like that is a good way to end up with her standing over you clutching a shard of coconut shell as you sleep. She'll just stand there and stare. She won't stab immediately for she likes the anticipation of the kill too much. She likes to watch you inhale and exhale as you dream. When you roll over, her eyes (and the sharpened blade) follow you carefully. She may even let one tiny drop of spittle hit your arm. With a blank stare and a smirk, she'll watch your flesh quietly sizzle as you swat your arm thinking it's a mosquito bite. That moment when you finally flutter your eyes and stretch your arms overhead is when she'll strike. When you're at your most vulnerable is when she'll slice out your eyeballs and pop them into her mouth like candy. And this is why, every so often, go ahead and give in to that demon lurking inside of you. If you deny him pleasure of the drink, of sex, of wild carefree threesomes on a fold out couch, you'll fester, turn acidic and snap like Caldracula did. Your demon is your friend. Remember that.
Speaking of demons, here comes Cochran. While he is thrilled to have spent time with his parents, he is livid that Mowgli was able to appear so selfless to the others. "Likability is a liability," he says. This is very true. But let us ask ourselves, what is more likable than an awkward nerd fumbling his way through surviving on a deserted island? Not much. Not much at all and Cochran is a smart guy, he knows this. There isn't a story throughout the history of time more popular and appealing than the one of an underdog triumphing over adversity. But still, the fact that Mowgli was able to make what he calls a "game changing move" is bothersome to the lad. Furthermore, that sneakily crafty Arlene whispered to Cochran that Mowgli will win this game if sonny boy doesn't do something about it. And quick!
And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's Challenge, you will be standing on a ledge over the water while holding onto a handle behind your back. That handle is connected to a wench and every so often Dimples will crank his wench (I think it's winch, but wench is funnier) lowering you closer to the water. Last person holding on wins Immunity. Survivors ready, go!
Standing at his pirate wheel with a parrot on his shoulder, Dimples cranks his wench as all of the Survivors tilt forward towards the water. Immediately we can see that the shorter you are, the better you'll do. I'm sure there's a scientific principle involving fulcrum and theorems to explain it, but I only need use my own two eyes to see that Little Man Leif would have rocked this Challenge.
In addition to being smaller in stature, triceps would also be an advantage which means Cochran is out first. Not surprisingly, probably because of his weight, we lose Theddie right after. Which, weirdly, leads to Erik throwing the Challenge. As long as Theddie was out, I guess Erik feels safe. And the dominoes continue to fall with Freebush falling next.
We're left with Calgon, Mowgli and Calgon's motherly guilt. She wields that thing like a sword as she tells Mowgli that she doesn't want to hang there all day. Plus! She hasn't won Immunity yet. Mowgli may be a bore and a silly decision maker, but one thing she's not is a quitter. So good for you Mowgli for hanging on. There is nothing worse than someone who quits at Challenges - especially when it is for final 5. Unfortunately for Mowgli, Calgon is shorter and stays up longer. And so, even though Mowgli will later insist she threw the Challenge anyways (she 100% didn't), CALGON WINS IMMUNITY fair and square and without her motherly guilt.
Back at camp, Mowgli is fairly confident that tonight's Tribal Council is as straightforward as they come. The plan will be to get rid of Theddie. But as we already know, Cochran is worried that Mowgli's selfless act could destroy this season long story of David and Goliath that he's been working on. And when something is about to destroy your carefully crafted story, you eliminate it. You highlight that paragraph and you delete it. It may have been a perfectly likable paragraph. Well-written, charming, funny and overflowing with 50 cent words, but if it doesn't bring you to the denouement you have planned, you have no choice but to send it to the trash bin.
But here's the conflict: what if sending the intruder to your perfect story results in making you the tribe bad guy? Cochran will have to play this decision with finesse. First, he meets with Freebush to see what her thoughts are about tonight's vote. Lucky for Cochran, she mentions Mowgli without him having to breathe a syllable of her name. Calgon is a little bit trickier, or is she? While Calgon is extremely loyal to her Golden Girls alliance she is also fearful of having others controlling her game for her. She messed up in the South Pacific by letting Cochran call the shots and let me tell you, she is about to do it all over again. There is no way Calgon wins this game if she is next to Cochran in the finale. Furthermore, he's not a vindictive kind of a guy. Cutting him loose right before the vote probably won't lose her his vote. If Calgon is wise, she'll ditch the ginger fop before the final three. But something, EDITING, tells me she's not going to do that at all.
With only 3 days left in the game, players need to be thinking about every scenario. What happens if Theddie stays and wins? Who does he take to the end? Are you looking at me because I have no idea. I still don't think Theddie knows he's playing a game for money. Erik is a similar mystery. His loyalties are to blotter and Northern Lights, but as far as this game goes, I'm stumped.
And this brings us to Tribal Council. We begin with Calgon and how she feels finally wearing an Immunity necklace. Obviously, she feels grand about it. She can finally breathe without crying and the demon juices within have been satiated for the time being.
Next we turn to Theddie. Delightfully unaware Theddie. He's a hard guy not to like, but he's an even harder guy to root for. Week in and week out, he thinks he's on his way to that frat house we call Ponderosa. Yet, week in and week out, the guy goes nowhere. With some good-natured ribbing from Dimples, Theddie shrugs his shoulders and wonders again if this will be the day to he'll finally be sent packing.
And now it is time to discuss those loved ones and Mowgli's selfless act of generosity. Calgon quickly points out that such an act could definitely buy Mowgli good favor from her peers while Freebush quite simply calls Mowgli a "saint". But when Cochran chimed in saying that voting out Theddie is the easy vote, but not necessarily the smartest, we knew. I knew, you knew, everyone knew! There is no mystery with this vote. Get cozy for at least another night Theddie because Mowgli is the 15th person voted out of Survivor Caramoan.
So, what did you think of last night's episode? Did Mowgli make the right decision giving up her Reward? Was Calgon heartless to vote out the girl who saved her teeth? Who do you think will win Survivor Carmoan? More importantly, will Golden Boy wear his hair down at the Reunion? Comment it out bitches and have a great day! I'll see you back here on Monday for my final assault on the season.
And if you've enjoyed what I've done here this season, please click on my PayPal button and show a hardworking bitch some love.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
And once again the curtain drops. This is not the black curtain of my depression. Rather, it is the scarlet curtain of a performance that has reached its end. It is closing night and the tattered playbills are littering the sidewalk. Pages waving au revoir in the breeze. The theatre once alive with the roar of an audience stamping and clapping in approval now sits in silence. No more are there rosy powdered reflections in the mirrors. No more pins and corsets and tape and hose. The dressing rooms grow dank with neglect. Threadbare crinolines sag limply. And in the playhouse, where art imitates life, a property blade is all that remains. A grim reminder of how every action, whether good or bad, has a reaction. "Drop a handkerchief and it will return to smother you," John Wilmot insists. As a thick layer of dust begins to form on the stage, the chairs have no choice but to hug themselves in depressed loneliness. Like you and I, they sit and wait for an encore. But if you stop for a moment and listen, if you reach back into the dark recesses of your mind, you can almost hear the applause… the clicking of heels across the floorboards, skirts sashaying stage left to right, roses plopping one after the other into a fragrant pile. Hold onto those memories, my friends... I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again. Let's recap, shall we?
Our hopeless opus continues under a starry sky. Had they a choice, the stars would have dimmed out of respect for everything we have lost. They would pull down the shades and shame their luminescence into hiding. But, like us, they have no choice. And so together we must dust ourselves off, dry our tears and trudge on. It is under this starry sky that the tarsier spits and farts in the faces of the returning Edamame (Enil Edam). You heathens choose to congratulate yourselves? Pffft! Loogie incoming. You pat one another on the back in celebration? A toot up your noses and a pox on your families! And it is here that Dame Reynold rises to make an announcement...
Oh, that this too, too sullied flesh would melt,
That, and resolve itself into a dew,
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God, God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
I have no choice but to carry onward,
To win immunity five times over!
Too right, Dame. Since you cannot take your own life, you have no other option but to succeed. To win! Prosper! To kick sand in the faces of those who have sent the Golden Boy (Malcolm) to the Poop Water Lagoon.
Upon hearing these optimistic and determined words from Dame Reynold, Mascaroni (Andrea) simultaneously stifles both her giggles and her panic. She giggles because the Fans are hopelessly outnumbered, but she panics because week in and week out her MeMeMe disease rages and festers. What began as mere hallucinations are beginning to take hold and putrefy. Those wistful "Me Me Me's" whispered over the past 288 weeks have finally come to fruition. They've latched onto both her flesh and her circulatory system. The stench of rot and plague follows her everywhere now. Even young Cochran has noticed it. He's noticed it and, quite frankly, he doesn't care for it. Instead of letting the tribe leper call the shots, he'll call the shots from now on. He'll grab the game by the short and curlies and give it a good jitter.
And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's Challenge, you will balance on a triangular platform in the water with your bare feet perched on narrow footholds. At regular intervals you will move your feet higher up the platform. The last person standing not only wins Immunity, but a Reward in the form of information. Survivors ready, go!
With the wind blowing all around them (note: the wind was me frantically doing the dance of the seven veils in the direction of everyone not named Dame Reynold), the Survivors stand on the widest perch as the challenge begins. But how boring would a challenge like this be without a sassy seducer tempting the starving innocents with tray after tray of tantalizing treats? And that is exactly what Dimples does. Not 30 seconds into the Challenge, he emerges from behind his podium to reveal a plate of donuts and an ice cold glass of milk. Immediately, Erik mumbles, "I want that." Not so fast patchouli breath. Theddie (Eddie) also wouldn't mind getting a little frosting stuck in his neck beard.
(Little Darlings, 1980)
At home I wanted to be surprised by Theddie's willingness to give up so early in the Challenge, but let's face it. Theddie doesn't even realize where he is let alone that there is a distinct possibility Dame Reynold could win Immunity thus making Theddie the next target. For all Theddie knows, he's away at Camp Tomahawk for the summer. Yesterday he made lanyards, today he'll eat donuts and tomorrow he'll try, yet again, to get Kristy McNichol to give him her virginity. Survivor is a carefree coming of age romp for the lad where he'll get to roast some marshmallows, meet some new buddies and maybe, at the end of it all, go home with a million dollars in his pocket. And so, without a care in the world, both Erik and Theddie dive off their perches for some donuts.
Some time passes and the Survivors must move their feet up to the next perch. Again, Dimples runs to his podium for yet another platter to tempt them with. This time it is hot dogs and a soft drink. Pasty and slumped, Cochran looks to his fellow alliance members and asks, "I'm going to take this, ok?" Mascaroni sneers as Calgon (Dawn) shakes her head in disapproval. Cochran whines, "My thighs are killing me." His entire alliance then turns their back on the lad as he stumbles face first into the water. Even Dimples is disappointed as he puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head. So much for being a Challenge beast, eh?
Giddy from the anger wafting off of Cochran's former friends, Dame Reynold beams and begins to taunt the others. With a point and a karate chop, he teases Calgon with dance moves from Rock Of Ages. Not the Tom Cruise vehicle Rock Of Ages, but the Constantine Maroulis Broadway Rock Of Ages. An unsullied Rock Of Ages, if you will. The problem is that dance moves from the 80's require a lot of hip gyrations and pelvic thrusts that aren't exactly conducive to standing on a shaky perch in the middle of the ocean. Lucky for the Dame, he, like Gene Kelly, has a very low center of gravity and is able to redeem himself.
Finally, we arrive at the final tippy top perch where the gravity of plunging estrogen is simply much too much for both Freebush (Sherri) and Calgon. Splish, splash... both ladies tumble into the water leaving Dame Reynold, Mowgli (Brenda) and Mascaroni still alive. But what's this? It's Freebush and she's swimming in front of Dame Reynold's perch with wild abandon. She pauses in front of him like a spastic mermaid lurching her bosoms back and forth in hopes of toppling our dandy. Fortunately for the Dame, Freebush cheats about as well as she competes and he is able to recover and regain his composure.
But like Cats, all good shows must come to a close. All wigs must be returned to the prop master and all theatre lights must dim for the Dame was only able to hold on for so long. But what do you expect from a guy who starred in the second longest running show on Broadway? Eventually he'll lose his oomph and motivation. It happens to the best of us. 8 shows a week wearing a tail and whiskers makes one rickety and nervous, not agile and graceful. And so, with a most balletic splash (his toes were pointed!), Dame Reynold is out of the Challenge.
This leaves us with Mascaroni and Mowgli. Two Survivors unwilling to make a deal with one another. Two Survivors happy to duke it out to the very end. As it should be! Quitters in Challenges are shameful! (*ahem Theddie, Erik and Cochran*) Only, Mascaroni doesn't view Mowgli's persistance and determination as respect for the game. In fact, she sees it as a personal attack on her very being. Oh give me a break, Mascaroni. You expect Mowgli to quit for you but you won't quit for her? Such hypocrisy. The MeMeMe coursing through your veins is most unbecoming especially since after all your bitching and moaning, you won anyways. Burble. Mascaroni wins Immunity despite her penchant for bitchassness. No pictures or capital letters for you.
Back at camp, Calgon does what Calgon does best - she gushes over Mascaroni's win and then prepares the batter for a bundt cake. You'd be surprised how easily monkey droppings can mold themselves into a ring shape. The Dame, however, is preparing his eulogy. That last Challenge was a do or die situation and things are beginning to look a little grim for our Dame. Hark! Those pesky Favorites do have an alternate option though. What if they were to take this opportunity to blindside one of their own? That Jury will be stacked with a whole mess of Favorites come Judgment Day so why not use this time to take out a threat with the voters? No matter how much we can surmise or wish or hope, ye olde Dame Reynold isn't the conductor of this orchestra so he'll just have to wait patiently and hope for the best.
As it turns out, he didn't have to wait long at all. Mascaroni is still bunged up that Mowgli stayed on her perch as long as she did. To hear Mowgli tell it, she doesn't have her panties in a twist over the fact she lost, she just didn't want to lose by quitting. That's all. Mascaroni's mind, quickly turning to sludge from the MeMeMe-itis, interprets Mowgli's audacity of playing the game as a secret mission to take out Mascaroni. In Mascaroni's world, if you don't quit and give her what she wants, then you're an enemy with a Mascaroni burn book hidden under your bed.
To make matters worse for Mascaroni, she promised to share her Reward Information with Mowgli. I'm not going to pretend to understand the logic in Mascaroni's head especially since she inexplicably also decides to share her Reward Information with every other member of her alliance as well. She says it is so she doesn't appear "suspicious" and that could very well be true. Suspicious you are not, Mascaroni. A greedy clepto, you are. When the information turns out to be a clue for the Hidden Immunity Idol, the Favorites, en masse, go hunting for it. And when that shaggy poodle unearths it and then holds it up for all to see, Mascaroni snatches it out of his hand and looks very pleased with herself. Both Cochran and myself stared in disbelief, not at Mascaroni being a sticky fingers, but at Erik not shoving it down his pants and using it for himself! It's like the guy is in a never ending game of hot potato whenever he gets his hands on an Idol. Ouch! Hot, hot, hot! Here, take this!
Feeling the power of I don't know what in her hands, Mascaroni fondles the Idol and wonders to herself if perhaps now is the perfect time for a blindside. Between blindsiding someone else or getting blindsided herself, she'd much rather it happen to someone else. And that someone else is Mowgli. She workshops the blindside scenario to both Cochran and Freebush as they all loll about lazily in the water. Freebush nods and tips over while Cochran is annoyed that people are already thinking about their individual games at this point. He would rather the alliance of 6 keep moving forward together as a single unit which makes me wonder... what final 3 alliance has he already made? I think it's obvious he has something going on with Calgon, but could his other secret alliance be with Freebush? If you think about it, back during that amazing Tribal Council when Golden Boy whipped Idol after Idol out of his pockets, why didn't the Favorites dump Freebush? Why was it such a frantic drama trying to figure out who to get rid of? Freebush brings them nothing of value, she's crap at competitions and she's not even a Favorite! Something is going on, something we're not seeing. There is a strategic subplot that has nothing to do with Dame Reynold being a threat. Or maybe I'm just so bored with this show right now that I'm making crap up to numb the pain I'm feeling from having to write this drivel.
And this brings us to Tribal Council. *dims the lights and puts on some smooth jazz* Dimples asks someone something about something, but I wasn't paying attention. My notes simply say, "HAIR DOWN." In the background, voices are doing that Charlie Brown teacher thing where all you can hear is "wah wah wah wah wah" while in the foreground a bowm chicka wow wow thumps with a merengue backbeat.
I think I heard Theddie mutter something about trading in his pride for donutsth, but at home I was doing the Kim Basinger stripper dance from 9 1/2 Weeks which got me this reaction from Golden Boy. Look, even Phillip is happy about it. And Gay (Michael), well he's gay so of course he has to put his head down and wait for the song to end.
As Tribal Council continues Dame Reynold offers up his services as an instrument for anyone who wants to use him. Calgon thinks about it for a second, but then turns her attention back over to the bleachers. She may be an older gal fighting off the menopause, but she's not dead yet. She knows a succulent piece of man meat when she sees it.
Alright, let's get to the votes. As if one week of stabbing me in the heart wasn't enough, these jackasses go ahead and do it again. It is with great sadness that we bid adieu to one of the most favorite characters I've birthed from my own loins. Dame Reynold, you are the 13th person voted out of Survivor Caramoan. The show may have come to a close, but you received rave reviews. Now blow us all a kiss and take your final curtsy.
Back at Edamame the starry skies once again have no choice, but to go on. Once again they have to listen to Mascaroni and Calgon yap yap yap about how great they're feeling right now and how close knit this tiny little group of chumps is becoming. At home I watch it all with indifference. Who am I kidding? I don't care anymore. I don't. All of my interesting characters are gone and with them, my inspiration. So when Mascaroni stands there talking about blindsiding either Mowgli or Calgon I fight off a yawn and pry my eyes open with some clamps.
Cochran, however, sits up wide awake hearing the name Calgon escape Mascaroni's lips. As we've always suspected, Calgon and Cochran are tight allies and most likely in a final two deal. Just the fact that Mascaroni is even considering her sends Cochran into damage control. With Mascaroni off somewhere polishing her Hidden Immunity Idol, Cochran scurries to Calgon and Mowgli and tells them that Mascaroni mentioned voting the both of them out. Calgon and Mowgli take one look at each other and, without a word being spoken, they know what they have to do - get rid of Mascaroni.
And this brings us to the next Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge, you will push a buoy through a series of obstacles to a post holding a key. Once you have the key, you'll unlock the chest filled with ladder pieces. The first person to build their ladder and raise their flag wins Immunity. Survivors ready, go!
The Challenge begins with Erik and Mowgli off to a quick start. Freebush tries to push her buoy from one obstacle to the next, but somehow her foot got tangled in the ropes and there she stays for the rest of the Challenge whimpering for someone to come untie her.
Erik and Mowgli maintain their lead throughout the Challenge with Mascaroni joining them as they unlock their chests. After some complications finding his first step of the ladder, Erik begins to make headway pulling ahead of both girls. No matter how quickly Mowgli begins to piece her steps, it is too late to catch up with Erik and ERIK WINS IMMUNITY!!!
Back at Edamame, Calgon once again lavishes the Immunity winner with compliments before retreating to the kitchen where she checks on her jello mold with chunks of clam inside. Mascaroni, on the other hand, has other things on her mind more important than her stomach. She yanks Calgon out of the kitchen by her apron strings and grabs Cochran by the scruff of his hair. Once she has them all to herself, she makes her case for getting rid of Mowgli tonight. A) She hasn't pissed anyone off. B) She's a fierce competitor. C) She didn't quit when Mascaroni wanted her to. Plus, Theddie will be so grateful that he's staying in the game that he'll vote however Mascaroni wants him to vote. And with a wipe of her palms and a smug satisfaction, Mascaroni is confident that tonight will play out exactly like she planned.
Speaking of Theddie, he's just happy people are talking to him. It's been 900 days of being on the outside and not knowing what the hell is going on so it's sthuper excthiting for him when Mascaroni tells him they'll be voting out Mowgli tonight.
Where Mascaroni screws up is when she asks Cochran what he thinks would happen if Theddie made it to the final 3. Strangely, Cochran thinks Theddie would win. I disagree most ardently, but that's not what is important here. What is important is that all of the pieces are finally coming together in regards to Mascaroni. The fact that she even mentioned taking Theddie to the finals means that it is something she has thought about. It also means that she's probably not planning on taking Cochran with her. Mascaroni's best case scenario would be taking someone like Freebush with her. If you'll remember way back in the beginning, Mascaroni's end game has always been stacking the Jury with as many people that will vote for her as possible. Well, sitting between 2 Fans at the end sounds like a sure way to stack that Jury with fellow Favorites.
Cochran quickly tells the other Favorites how Mascaroni wants to take Theddie to the finals. As a group, they agree that she needs to go now. The only hiccup in the plan is the fact that Mascaroni has the Hidden Immunity Idol. Cochran suggests to the others that they split the votes with Theddie just in case Mascaroni decides to play the Idol.
And then there's the matter of that curious question mark, Erik. Erik, the guy who plays with an imaginary hacky sack and waits day in and day out for someone else to tell him how to vote. And then when those two opposing sides finally do tell him how to vote, he marvels in the misconception of how he's running the entire game. I don't know, I guess it's a strategy to be completely aloof and spend your days watching the wind blow. I mean, it has gotten him this far. Still, it doesn't make him interesting and it doesn't make him someone you want to see win the game. And if there's anything that I take as a personal insult, it is boring people on reality shows... and Erik is their king.
And this brings us to another Tribal Council. *puts on something groovy and spins the disco ball* One night with The Fornicator and our once demure Dame has morphed into John Holmes. What in the sam hell is going on back at that Ponderosa? I'm picturing shag carpets, mustard colored walls, a slew of underage Filipino women, and Gay behind the camera shouting "That's purrrrrfect Phillip. Yes, Golden Boy just like that. Dame, stroke your mustache while you thrust." I knew that Dame would find a way to keep performing. I just didn't think it would be in a 70's-style orgy. I guess you take the parts you can get.
Since Golden Boy put his hair back up I can actually focus on what's happening here at Tribal Council. We begin with Dimples noticing that Theddie is the last standing Amigo. He wonders if maybe the Favorites plan is to keep Theddie around for a little longer. Theddie nods and then does something remarkable - he quotes Cochran, "Timing isth everything in thisth game." Who knew Theddie was even paying attention? Here I thought he was planning a panty raid over at the girl's camp after the camp counselors went to sleep. Anyhow, Theddie says that if a blindside were to happen, now would be the time. Actually, people have been saying that for the past 3 weeks so maybe Theddie isn't that profound after all. Back to your s'more's Theddie.
The conversation turns to lying and, no surprises here, but everyone assumes they've been lied to in this game at one point or another. Cochran then chooses to go into detail about the lies people have possibly told him. Specifically, lies about wanting to go to the final 3 with him. At home I began to freak out a little. I thought the point was to make Mascaroni feel completely comfortable and safe so she doesn't play her Idol. But hearing Cochran talk about final 3 lies, we get the concerned look above from Mascaroni and I begin to worry.
Alright let's get to the vote. If anyone wants to play their Hidden Immunity Idol, please don't do it now because I want your ass sent home. Mascaroni sits quietly and does nothing. At home it was my turn to sit in smug satisfaction as Mascaroni is the 14th person voted out of Survivor Caramoan. Finally! It doesn't make up for the loss of my men, but at least it's something.
So, what did you think of last night's episode? Do we all have the will power to finish out the season together? Who would you like to see win the million dollars? How much do you think Gay will charge for Ponder-HO-sa? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!
And, if you've enjoyed what I've done here all season, I ask that you please click on my PayPal button and show a girl some love.