Thursday, May 10, 2012
Hell To The No
What do spears, battle axes, crossbows, swords, and microbes have in common? They are all violent weapons used in the pursuit of wealth and power. Way back when in the olden timey days of the Middle Ages, knights and foot soldiers would hurl either sharp pieces of metal or teeny tiny microorganisms at one another. In a world where microscopes didn't even exist yet, a soldier knew the power of the protozoa. Late at night, while the castle slept, scientifically savvy soldiers would fling a diseased corpse over the castle walls and then, giggling in their suits of armor and sigils, they'd sit and wait for the magic to happen. Oh, it wouldn't be an immediate magic. Nor would it be a bloody magic. But eventually, little devil microbes, or pathogens, would squirrel themselves out of the rotting corpse and into an innocent lady in waiting. After what I assume was a lengthy gestation period, said lady would cough, gasp, and then fall over and die. Protozoa power, activate! In more recent years, microbes, or microglobules if you will, are still used as weaponry. Scary, creepy, "Is that dried blood in your panties?" weaponry. The goals are still the same: wealth and power (plus $500 for new shocks) and the road to victory is long, arduous, and full of hair. Thank god it's almost over. Let's recap, shall we?
The night is dark and full of terrors. A fire crackles in the foreground as we find our street urchin people musing about Kat's ironically sardonic exit. A pruney southern drawl from underneath a crusty hat begins the scene, "Oh mah gawd. When she said it'd be funnay. Oh mah gawd." A nicknameless Sabrina nods in agreement and shouts, "Ironic!" Tarzan (Greg), however, thinks to himself how silly these womenfolk are. They should have gotten rid of him instead. And now, he and his subplot are free to squirm their way into the top three.
But first, he has to make it to the top four. Tarzan pulls aside Handlebar (Kim) and advises that she take Jugs (Alicia) and ChaCha (Christina) to the end with her. Jugs isn't well liked and, well, no one will vote for ChaCha. Handlebar likes the plan, but worries whether or not she can trust Jugs to take her to the end. Tarzan assures her of Jugs' loyalty, but warns her against the evil Prunes (Chelsea). Prunes is Handlebar's biggest threat and it would serve her well to kick her to the curb sooner rather than later. Sounds good to me!
Just as Handlebar is worried about Jugs' loyalty, Jugs is worried about Handlebar's loyalty. The great mediator Tarzan poo-poo's away Jugs' worries and promises to hype her up for a win once he gets on the jury. Tarzan is a man with a plan, a segmented plan. A) Don't be the first one voted off. B) Make it to the merge. 3) Get to see his wife. D) Go on a panty raid. If he gets from A to D and still doesn't win the million dollars, no skin off his hide. His Jeep will pay the ultimate price, not him. No shocks for you, Jeep!
The sun rises on another day and we find Prunes in quiet contemplation. In quiet contemplation is how I like my Prunes. Silent like the dead. Quiet like a corpse. Maybe we can get Jugs' sister Leticia to kick Prunes in the voice box. It's just an idea. Alright, so Prunes is sitting around watching insects devour one another when it occurs to her that the game is all tied up right now. 3 to 3. 3 for them. 3 for me. Being that it's Even Steven means that someone needs to leave one threesome and join another. And who better than ChaCha? "If ah pull outta r'ward, I thank ya need ta eet," she tells ChaCha. "That's so sweet," ChaCha replies.
Once Prunes has reeled in ChaCha with promises of sustenance, she switches gears and tells ChaCha that Tarzan absolutely cannot get to the final three. With all of those men on the jury, he'll surely get all of the votes. Prunes also thinks that ChaCha is in an alliance with Jugs and Tarzan, but ya know, that's just her talking out loud. La dee da.
So Prunes la dee da's herself away while ChaCha scurries back to camp and reports all that she's heard. "I just had an interesting talk with Prunes," ChaCha says. Handlebar's mustache turns up in anger at the thought of Prunes once again doing more damage than good. If only Handlebar could get her to shut up. Call Leticia, Handlebar! I've got her number right here... 555.KICK "If Prunes wins an award she'll take me, but she thinks that I'm in an alliance with Jugs and Tarzan. I think she wants me to join the other alliance." Handlebar strokes her goatee in a panic. Has Prunes blown her cover?! She's worked for 30 some odd days fooling these chuckleheads and for Prunes to ruin it all with her big mouth would be a nightmare for her.
The second she's able to get away, Handlebar runs over to Prunes and tells her that ChaCha blurted out their whole conversation. Prunes whines, "Shut uuuuup! That makes me want to kick ChaCha's ass." Why? Because you were a big mouth butting in where you don't belong? Because you are single handedly unwittingly dismantling all of the hard work that Handlebar has done? I'm telling you if Prunes was out of the picture, Handlebar could spend her days waxing her 'stache and eating coconuts. 99% of her game play is fixing Prunes' big ass whiny mouth mistakes.
And this brings us to the big Reward Challenge. For today's challenge, you will race to release a disk by spinning around it. Once you're good and dizzy, you'll race to another station to do it all over again. Once you've collected all three disks, you will use them to form a decoder. Then, you will use the decoder to give you three numbers to solve a combination box. The winner will get to go on a yacht where they'll get a shower, cocktails, a three course meal (more damn food!), and a bed to sleep in for the night. Survivors ready, go.
Spin, spin, spin. The Oceanic Six run in circles around their disk stations. To everyone's surprise, Sabrina gets her disk free first followed by Handlebar, Jugs, Prunes, and ChaCha. The dizzy ditzes move on to their next post where... spin, spin, spin... Sabrina is once again in the lead. Prunes and Jugs keep a close pace with Sabrina, but we all know that Sabrina will give out any second now. Things like challenges, competition, work, strategy, game play, etc aren't really Sabrina's forte. She's a nice enough lady, but let's face it. Bo-ring!
Spin, spin, spin... as predicted, it's Sabrina's nap time which gives Handlebar, Jugs, and Prunes a chance to catch up. With everyone at the decoder station, we hear it. That whine. That infernal incessant whine. She only talks in whines. Ever. "Dimplesssss I thank I 'ave itttt." Whine, whine, moan, moan. *burble* Prunes wins, but I'm not giving her any exclamations points like I usually do. The only way I'll decorate her name with punctuation is if the words "dead" or "voted off" are in the sentence.
And now it's time for Prunes to pick two people to join her. ChaCha leans over and picks up her backpack. She's ready to go! Kindly direct her to the yacht Prunes. "Fair is fair. Ah pick Sabrina an' ah pick Handlebar. Fair is fair!" ChaCha looks around herself in confusion. Jugs catches her eye and does a pantomime of a throat being slit. Now everyone is confused! Does Jugs mean her deadly mimes for Prunes or ChaCha? Knowing Jugs, she means everyone.
Rest easy ChaCha. Out of all the yachts in the world, that's the last yacht you want to end up on. First off, you're trapped on it with Prunes. Secondly, you end up in a cult. What I like to call The Cult Of No Personality. Look in their eyes, what do you see? The cult of no personality. I know your anger. I know your dreams. I've been everything you want to be. I'm the cult of no personality.
Back at camp, Jugs is fit to be tied. She's livid! *thwack!* There goes a tree she kicked. *harump!* That's the sound of a boulder being thrown into the ocean. *spernickle!* And that there is the sound of crab legs being pulled off of a dolphin. That whimper you hear is Tarzan crying. Oh Jesus, batten down the hatches! "She said she was going to pick fair like she plays the game?! And then she picks Handlebar?!? Oh hell no! That's not fair! And she told you she was going to pick you! That's not fair!" With anger in the breeze and assault on her mind, Jugs wants to make sure that she, Tarzan, and ChaCha are all on the same page as to whom they vote out next. "We're voting Prunes if she doesn't win the next Immunity." *glitter falls from the sky*
At home I put up some streamers, aimed a flashlight at the disco ball over my bed, and retrieved two giant bowls of glitter from the refrigerator. Try chilling your glitter the next time you dunk. Nippleicious!
So Jugs wants to force Handlebar to pick a side and stand by her word. Tarzan suggests that if Handlebar comes back from the Reward suggesting they vote out one of their own, then they'll know she's turned. Furthermore, Tarzan believes that Prunes and Handlebar are their biggest threat in the game. They'll easily win over Jugs and ChaCha in the final three and, most likely, they're working together as a team. Tarzan sneaks in a little, "So, you know, you should probably just take me to the final three." *smacks self in panties on head* Subtlety Tarzan, subtlety! A little grace please. Some dignity. Jugs is a loose cannon who needs to be finessed into making a decision. When she's leaking battery acid like she is right now, it's best to back away slowly and duck from her nipple darts.
*pew pew go the nipple darts* Jugs turns to ChaCha, "Do you want to sit next to him *points to Tarzan* or Handlebar in the final three?" ChaCha demurely replies, "I think him." "Alright then, it's Prunes or Handlebar," Jugs declares. Look at that! Jugs is taking charge and making some swift moves. Good on her! I always knew she had the will to disembowel and bleed her victims dry so it stands to reason that she'd be sneaky and try to take out the strongest player. This is gonna be so good. I can't wait!
Another day is gone and today Tarzan has awoken with a hunger that only some coconut steeped in buff sweat can satiate. Today he's a making a meal fit for a king. Screw the women! He's gonna prepare his coconuts like he likes him. Dipped, trimmed, and boiled tender. Then, after he's done with breakfast, he'll do some laundry in a poo bath and wash his hair in the food pot. He may be defeated later in the day by someone of the opposite sex so it's best he enjoys what time he has left in a manly way. Staring at the coconuts bobbing up and down in a boiling pot of buffs, Jugs declares, "I can make that better!" "I'm making it how I like it, not how you like it," Tarzan murmurs. "But that's a dirty buff!" "I've had inner bowels in my bare hands," Tarzan replies. Huh? *scratches head*
That's it. That's all it took. Jugs' pendulous breasts have now swung back in the opposite direction as she tells Handlebar about Tarzan's plan to discover whether or not she's a traitor. *puts glitter bowls back in refrigerator* I hate these people! I hate them all! How hard is it to make a decision a stick with it. Especially a decision that benefits me. I don't mean to be selfish, but it's all about me! I can't deal with a Sisters Grim final three. I can't! *holds one of Jugs' nipple darts to throat* I'll cut myself. I will!
Jugs not only tells Handlebar everything Tarzan has up his sleeve, but she also tells her how Tarzan is going to sway the jury to vote for Jugs to win. Handlebar replies, "He told me the same thing!" The two stare into each other's twinkling eyes and nod. They now know what they have to do. They have to not get Tarzaned. In this particular situation, "getting Tarzaned" means letting Tarzan get to the end with ChaCha. Jugs' reply to that idea is -"Hell no! Hell to the no!" And then she went off on some ghetto Puerto Rican (her words, not mine) tangent about how she's the queen of the social game and the most powerful player ever. The social game in the ninth ring of hell? The most powerful player of a game of nipple darts? I'm not sure where Jugs thinks she is, but it's not here in crappy Survivor: One World.
And here we are at the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge, you will use fish hooks to pick up bags of puzzle pieces. You will then use the pieces to complete a puzzle in the shape of a fish skeleton. To make it a little more interesting, you'll do it with one hand tied behind your back. Survivors ready, go!
The Survivors gingerly scoop up their fish hooks and teeter over their respective puzzle bags. Handlebar hooks hers first with Jugs right behind her. The other Survivors quickly follow suit and, with Prunes in last place, they begin to complete the lowest section of the fish. This is a challenge we've seen before, isn't it? Little flickers of a past Survivor season are flashing in my brain. Did a man win it? A douchey man perhaps. Help me out Survivor wizards and let me know in the comments.
So anyhow, pick, pick, pick, the fish continue to grow and it's shaping up to be a battle between Jugs and Handlebar. Only, hold up! The swift and stealthy hands of a surgeon have come to play. Tarzan deftly places bone after bone. But then he tries to attach cockles and marzipan and falls behind again. *sigh* Oh well, good effort Tarzan.
In the end, it's a win we're not sure we wanted... JUGS WINS IMMUNITY!!! I mean, I'm glad it's not Prunes or Handlebar, but Jugs isn't thinking straight anymore. She's living in a parallel universe and telling all of her secrets to the one girl sure to beat her... Handlebar. Maybe someone will boil some socks in with the dinner and change her mind again. Fingers crossed.
Back at camp, Jugs is doing the Jugs happy dance. It involves a lot of shoulder shimmying and goes, "Look at me now! Look at me now!" The dance is suddenly interrupted with a burly cry of, "You bitch! I should have won that. That wasn't even athletic!" *sighs and shakes head* It's Tarzan. It's weirdo loud mouthed Tarzan spitting "Bitch" in a tribe of women. I gazed forlornly at the refrigerator door as I knew deep down inside that I wouldn't be taking out my bowls tonight.
I then sat with my chin in my hand and dipped a couple of Lexapros into my gin while Jugs went on a power trip on my TV. "This is all about me! I control three votes! What I say, goes!" No, no, no. You do not control three votes. You control one vote. You're like a scullery maid thinking she's the Lady of the house. It drives me crazy when these Idol holders or Challenge winners think they are omnipotent. Cra-zy!
So while Jugs is busy beating on her own jugs, Handlebar is telling her sheeple that she's convinced Jugs to get rid of Tarzan tonight. Sabrina stares up into Handlebar's blue eyes and is completely mesmerized. Lapis pools of magic. Robin's egg orbs of deliciousness. Sabrina's own eyes are merely spinning pin wheels as she hypnotically nods and laughs at all Handlebar has to say. "Oh you did? Ha ha ha!" *laughter tinkles on the breeze* That's all Sabrina does... tinkle laughter.
Handlebar then moves on to Prunes. Probably in a preemptive strike to get her to keep her mouth shut, Handlebar tells Prunes that she might be on the chopping block tonight. Prunes replies meekly, "Or I could play your Idol." Handlebar sits in stony silence for a second and then replies, "It depends on how I'm feeling." Oh snap! Go find your own Idol, Prunes. Mooch. Prunes stares off into the distance when a wandering ChaCha enters into frame. Prunes lips go thin as she furrows her brow, "I cayn't ba-leave she'll be here longa than me!" It infuriates Prunes that ChaCha does nothing yet lives to see another day in the game. Fair is fair! *eye roll* One of these days, when I care, someone will have to inform me what exactly it is that Prunes has done to merit staying over ChaCha.
So while Prunes is frowning and Jugs is gloating, Tarzan is left to stew in his own thoughts and put on lady clothes. When in doubt, go Phillip Sheppard. I knew it was an act! Have you ever noticed that when the tides get rough and the chatter thickens, Tarzan is just around the corner pulling out some whacky stunt? And here he stands, right before the vote, with crusty panties on his head and a woman's bloodied tank top on asking, "What? Oh this old thing! Those microbes are long and dead by now. Now watch me do the flamenco." I'm telling you, it's phony. Phony baloney. Jugs watches Tarzan hitching up his petticoats and wonders to herself if maybe she should just get rid of him. Is Handlebar playing her? Is Tarzan playing her? Oh hell, she'll just vote them both out because in JugsLand she has infinity votes.
And now we arrive at Tribal Council. Dimples turns to Sabrina and very seriously asks her if she's surprised she's made it this far. Sabrina replies that she is not surprised. Not only that, she can still win! Ha! Rrrright.
Dimples then asks Tarzan how he's still around and Tarzan replies, "Only by the grace of panties... errr, I mean God. The grace of God." Dimples presses him for specifics and, to my surprise, Tarzan candidly admits to helping the women getting rid of the men. Some Carson Daly looking dude on the jury gives him the finger while another guy crawls out of a tree stump and asks, "Oh, we're still playing?" Yeah I know, they're a memorable bunch.
Tarzan goes on and confesses that tonight might be his last night, but if anyone wants to take him to the end. Great! He'll go. Plus, who'd vote for a millionaire to win. Hold up. Rewind. Who would vote for a millionaire to win? Did Tarzan just say he was a millionaire? Monopoly money doesn't count Tarzan! Nor do those chocolate covered coins you keep in the treasure chest at the foot of your bed. I've seen your Jeep (scroll up). A millionaire would buy that hunk of junk some parts... and wheels and such.
All in all, Tarzan is simply misunderstood. "The crusty panties and this blood here *licks bloody spot as crowd groans* nothin' but microbes! And I know everything about microbes. They don't! Bacteria, fungi, algae, protozoa. You name it, I've wrestled with it." As this is a man who operates regularly on marine life, I'm inclined to agree that he's worked with algae before. How do you suppose he does his hair transplants. Algae, bitches! Grows like the thicket on Handlebar's upper lip.
Dimples then asks Jugs about everyone's reaction to whom Prunes picked to join her on the Reward. Jugs says it was fair to pick Sabrina, but not so fair to pick Handlebar. Just look at Kat, delicious candy coated with perfect hair Kat, who picked who she liked and then got sent home! From the jury section, Kat, sleek in her bob, mutters my favorite line... "Bitches."
Bitches indeed! Alright, let's vote another bitch out, shall we? I could have crossed my fingers for a Prunes vote, but we all kind of knew the panty raid had finally come to an end. Tarzan is the 13th person voted out of Survivor: One World.
So, what did you guys think of last night's episode? Did you want Tarzan to go home? Why does Jugs think she can beat Handlebar? Will everyone fight to take ChaCha to the end? Finally, who do you want to win Survivor: One World? My vote goes to Horatio.
Speaking of votes, it's time to vote for your Favorite Player. The Bitchy Survivor Blog officially endorses Nina Acosta and here's why: She's a fan of the blog, she went out looking like a zombie, and she's holding a gun to my head right now. Just give her the $100K dammit. I want to live to blog the Philippines.
And, if you've enjoyed what I've done here this season, I ask that you please click on my PayPal button and show a bitch some love. I know it hasn't been the best of seasons, but hopefully I've spread a little joy and tinkled all over it with glitter.
Monday's finale blog will be up later than usual so look for it sometime in the evening. Comment it out bitches and have a great day!