Thursday, September 15, 2011
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.
What the fuck was that?!? Do over.
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!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
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 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 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 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:
Monday, September 12, 2011
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 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.
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?