Monday, May 14, 2012

Why Do You Hate People?

It's been 39 days. 39 days of watching paint dry. 39 days of listening to the crickets chirp. 39 days of hot glue gunning words together in order to make these episodes sing. When the hot glue gun didn't work, I turned to the staple gun and then the nail gun and then an automatic... to my temple. I am a Survivor fan through and through. My blood bleeds royal Dimples blue. I hide bone necklaces under my bed, confuse my mailman by asking "Is today Sprint day?!", and have, on occasion, paid $200 for a few hunks of a chocolate and a giant bowl of peanut butter. Survivor is the reality beacon I compare all other reality shows to. It's the light house on the shore, my north star. But Survivor: One World blew a giant ass monkey and I'm Joan Crawford damn mad about it. So let's just get through this as fast as we can and pretend it never happened. Let's recap, shall we?

Samoa belched. It rebelled. It rained down and convulsed, but nothing could shake these five cornflakes off of the island. It tried with all of it's might to hurl them one by one back towards our neck of the woods, but it failed. Samoa failed. Sucked dry and exhausted, Samoa rolled on its back and cried uncle. So here we are stuck with five girls no one wants. What began as a battle of the sexes, a battle of the nether regions, a battle of the hairy wrinkly parts we never wanted to see has turned into contentment, relaxation, and comfort with stuffed animals on the bed and bras hanging off the shower door. Just a bunch of gals sitting under the stars shooting the breeze. Handlebar (Kim) looks around herself and sighs contentedly. From day one of trying to hold a shelter together with leaves and spit to now - a happy sewing circle of friends. *sigh*

Jugs (Alicia), however, is still all pumped up from that last Tribal Council. In between barking at the moon and smearing chicken blood all over her face, she tells us how it was her idea to get rid of Tarzan and her dream to have all women left at the end. Our little Samoan Tituba twirls tirelessly under the moonlight confident that Handlebar will take her to the end with ChaCha (Christina), but what she doesn't realize is that the Sisters Grim's bond is strong. Strong like a wild thicket of unplucked hair.

And splat! Here we are at the first Immunity Challenge of the night. For today's challenge, Survivors must race across a balance beam and traverse a giant rope net while collecting puzzle pieces. Once you have all of your puzzle pieces, you'll solve a puzzle that will give you clues to three numbers. Once you figure out the numbers, you'll punch them into a magical machine that will eat you alive if your numbers are wrong. It'll open up with jaws of steel and swallow you whole. Then we can all go home and forget this nightmare ever happened! I wish. Anyhow, the Survivor who figures out the right numbers and releases a flag wins Immunity. Survivors ready, go!

I'll make this short and sweet. Jugs gathered and untied everyone else's bags for them. Sabrina curled up for a nap under the shade of a giant tree. ChaCha hollered to the others, "It's ok. You guys go ahead. I probably won't win anyways." So we're left with Prunes (Chelsea) and Handlebar in a battle of the twits. Both think they have the correct numbers, but both keep coming up empty handed. After heading back to her puzzle station a second time, Handlebar makes some more attempts and blah blah blah HANDLEBAR WINS IMMUNITY!!!

Prunes reluctantly claps and bites her lip while Handlebar's head swims with all of the options she has before her. Does she get rid of Prunes? Does she get rid of Jugs? Or what about that other girl, the one who occasionally shows up to meals? Sabrina! That's it, Sabrina. While Handlebar twirls her mustache and kicks the sand trying to decide what to do, Prunes abruptly yanks her into the brush and lays out the Prunes Plan. A) Get rid of Jugs and B) Give me your Idol, bitch! Handlebar rolls her eyes and rues the day she ever told that pesky Prunes about the Idol. For the last 16 weeks, it's been nothing but, "How about giving me that Idol?", "Say, where'd you put that Idol?", and "Don't you think that Idol would go great with this outfit?"

With Prunes holding her hand out waiting for the Idol to be placed in it, Handlebar looks at her watch nervously and says she's late for a shell collecting date with Sabrina.  It was a lie at the time, but wouldn't you know it? There's Sabrina combing the beach collecting shells. Handlebar approaches and leans over into Sabrina's ear, "We're getting rid of Jugs." Sabrina nods holding a bivalve up to the light. If she gets enough, she can use them to cover a lamp shade or maybe a tissue box. How pretty!

Meanwhile, Jugs is sitting back in the shelter with a smug look on her face. She observes the game around her, the players that are left, and thinks confidently to herself, "I got this!" No way Handlebar would take Prunes or Sabrina to the final three. Jugs is her closest fake friend. Surely, she'll take her instead!

Plop! And here we are at our first Tribal Council of the night. Jugs tells Dimples that it's been pretty peaceful back at camp. With Sabrina busy shining her shell collection and ChaCha waiting for permission to speak, camp Tikiano has been low key. Prunes agrees and says that with less people around, there are fewer people left to scramble. It's either this or that. Her or she. She or her. There's a light at the end of the tunnel and to leave now would suck. I guess leaving now would suck, but you know what would suck even more? Not getting any votes at the finale. What a giant ball of suck!

Dimples turns his attention to Handlebar who says that tonight's vote is hard. She likes everyone. It's just so hard! The people she votes out could come back and maybe not vote for her to win. *gasp* The horror! Who knew?! It's only been that way for 127 years. To make matters worse, her heart... her big giant blood pumping heart keeps getting in the way. When she's out picking wildflowers, her heart breaks them in half. When she's tweezing her 'stache with some lobster claws, her heart pours thickening tonic on it instead.

"Ah just wanna say..."
"Excuse me?"
"Ah just wanna say that Handlebar can get all the people she pissed off on the jury ta respeck her if she votes raht t'night."
"No one is talking to you Prunes. Shut up and sit down."
*Prunes goes back to picking her teeth*

In my notes it says, WHAT A CUNT! And watching it again, I'm thinking WHAT A CUNT! That move right there, the one where Prunes went out of her way to say the jury probably hates Handlebar and the thinly veiled threat of how Handlebar not voting "raht" could have consequences, would have been my cue to vote Prunes out. But Handlebar's heart has a mind of it's own. It wants what it wants and tonight it wants Jugs to go home which means that Jugs is the 14th person voted out of Survivor: One World. Jugs doesn't seem too bunged up about it though. She blames it on giving up her power. I'm not sure what power she's talking about, but her power to rip bikini tops in half remains strong.

Back at camp a tiny flickering little light, no bigger than the point of a needle, is finally thumping ChaCha on the side of the head. "Yo ChaCha, you got played." ChaCha looks at the shiny dot sitting on her shoulder and shrugs. The twinkling dot hits the ground and ChaCha steps right on it while walking over to Handlebar. "Hey, it's a game! No biggie," she says. Handlebar replies, "Thank you!" which I thought was really weird, but whatever.

And then a bunch of people we don't care about died and went up in flames. You hate it, I hate it, we all hate it which means I'm not talking about it.

Zoom! Whish! Here we are at the next Immunity Challenge. Using a long pole, Survivors will maneuver a small wooden bowl through a channel. The first person to stack ten bowls on top of one another wins Immunity. Survivors ready, go!

Sabrina pulls some needlepoint out of her hair and settles in to finishing that pillow she started earlier. It's an island landscape with the S.S. Vagina floating in the distance. Meanwhile, ChaCha has finally got some fire in her belly. It took 286 days, but homegirl is here to play! With Prunes moving her bowls at the pace of a roofied snail, this is a contest strictly between Handlebar and ChaCha. Both women stay neck in neck placing bowl after bowl. One... two... three... all the way up to eight. Then, Samoa fought back. It's had enough! It wants you bitches gone and it wants you gone now. Blowwww! Blowwww! That's Samoa summoning the winds. ChaCha's stack of bowls begins to teeter from side to side causing her to slow down and be extra careful. Handlebar sees her opening and takes it! With ChaCha nursing her ninth bowl, Handlebar begins placing her tenth bowl. Teeter, teeter, jiggle, jiggle... oh, Sabrina's pillow is so pretty! She really captured the S.S. Vagina's humanity - plucky yet girlish. HANDLEBAR WINS IMMUNITY!!!

Back at camp, ChaCha begins taking her laundry off the line and placing it into her backpack. Handlebar saunters by, whiskers blowing proudly in the wind, when ChaCha asks, "So, umm, I'm going home, right? Just tell me. It's totally cool. I was just wondering. I mean, if I'm not I'll go ahead and hang these things back up because, you know, they're still damp. But, whatever, no rush. No biggie. I'd just rather not have wrinkled damp things in my bag if I don't have to. You understand, right?" Handlebar replies, "You're going home ChaCha." ChaCha sighs. "OK I'm sure they have a dryer I can use back at the hotel. It is what it is." And that's that. That's all she wrote. That's the extent of ChaCha strategizing. Even Handlebar is slightly taken aback by the white flags ChaCha keeps throwing in her face.

I like ChaCha and she's a very nice girl, but (ChaCha cover your eyes) WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!? She didn't say or do anything. To the camera she told us all of these great arguments as to why Handlebar should keep her, but to Handlebar she just smiled and walked away. Ugh! It's incredibly frustrating especially since Handlebar herself was seriously rethinking taking Sabrina to the end. What happened to the ChaCha who finagled fire from the men? Where's the ChaCha who infuriated Jugs just by breathing? That ChaCha would have tried to stay.

And here we are at another Tribal Council. Again, we find the women talking about peace and harmony, how everyone is getting along, how it's been such a pleasant experience. Sabrina finished her pillow and has begun stenciling tiny Horatios along the outside of the shelter. ChaCha's clothes are beginning to smell a little musty, but that's about it.

Dimples raises an eyebrow and asks, "Well, wasn't anyone scrambling? One person had to be scrambling?" Prunes says they made it pretty cut and dry so... Dimples asks the women who is going home to which Sabrina starts picking at a piece of the scenery, Prunes begins to twirl a piece of her hair, and Handlebar finds something fascinating off in the distance to stare at. It's complete utter awkward silence.

"Um Dimples, it's me,"
"You ChaCha?"
"The alliance of 3 girls was formed on day one. Plus, I hear they have laundry facilities at the hotel I'm going to."
"What are you doing strategy-wise to stay?"
"Well, Sabrina sucks in challenges."
"Just because I'm not scrambling doesn't mean I don't know what's going on!"
"You painted tiny pigs all day long."
"Well I don't think you're here to win!"
"Do you know where you are ChaCha?"
"You know, I mean, it's... umm."

Amidst giggles from the Jury and Dimples making a note in his diary "Fire my casting person!", ChaCha is the 15th person voted out of Survivor: One World. Like I said, I like ChaCha, but I think Survivor ate her soul. It took someone headstrong and reduced her to oatmeal. Or maybe Jugs bewitched her as she slept. Messages delivered to the subconscious mind in the dream state are extremely powerful and effective. I can totally see Jugs staying up all night leaning over a sleeping ChaCha whispering, "You suck, you suck, you suck, give up." That's such a Jugs things to do. *horn toots* That's our Jugs!

So, my nightmare has become a reality. We've got the Sisters Grim as our final three. Which, I'll admit is a little surprising. Back when Prunes told me to do everyone a favor and kill myself, I thought, "Surely, this girl doesn't make it to the end! That sounds like the words of a bitter person who leaves the game early on." But no, I was wrong and she truly is awful. Who knew?! Alright, I totally knew. We all did. But only a shining "always look at the bright side of life" person like myself would take those little daggers of hate and spin them into a season long literary assault. Thanks Prunes!

So all of this, all of the yawns, all of the shoulders shrugging, all of the completely full bowls of glitter littering my house have brought us to this moment right now. The final Tribal Council.

First, a word from our finalists.

"Is it OK if I stand Dimples? It just feels like... is that OK or no?"
*A quick and nimble blonde girl with a glitter beret and CL emblazoned on her back scurries into the scene and places a chair for Prunes to stand on. The girl then wraps a noose around Prunes' neck and waits.*
"I think everyone knows in Survivor that a pair is extremely important and..." *kicks chair*

Prunes swings back and forth. Dead. Finally.
*glitter falls from the sky* I did it! I shut her up!

Pushing a swinging Prunes out of the way, Handlebar goes next and compares Survivor to poker. That's where her head was at and that's how she played. She said something about her family, but I got up to refill my gin. By the time I got back to the TV, she was done speaking. Oh sure, she's talking right now on my DVR, but if I give in to that monotone voice, my eyes will become pin wheels. Food will lose its taste and glitter will refuse to sparkle. And then, eventually, the boredom of a life with Handlebar's voice on a constant loop will kill me.

Next we have Sabrina: "I had to scale back everything. I thought it was best to turn down the music that is Sabrina. You see, I'm so vibrant and out there that I didn't want to scare all y'all. I meant to lose. Stra-te-gy! *pounds chest* By the way, did you know that I teach inner city kids and just lost my job? Vote Sab! And if anyone is interested, I'll be selling my shell people in the hotel lobby right after the show. May God bless you all."

Jury, your turn.

"Listen up bitches. You'll be obeying my rules from now on. Call me 'Master Jonas'." At home I scratched my head not realizing Jonas could be so kinky. Isn't he a Mormon? Anyhow, Jonas says if it was a most popular person contest, he'd vote for Sabrina. Again, I scratched my head and wondered what the hell I've been missing in the editing. After throwing some rocks at Prunes, he tells Handlebar that she played a flawless game until the last Tribal Council. He can't get over why she didn't take ChaCha to the end.

Speaking of ChaCha, she's up next! *runs to the refrigerator and places two bowls of glitter on the coffee table* OK, go ChaCha. "Prunes, why do you hate people?" *DUNK* *A-d-d-d-d-dunk!* *backwards dunk* *sideways dunk* *downward dog dunk* *a dunk with a drink in my hand* *a dunk with TWO drinks in my hands* *a spin and a dunk* *cartwheel dunk* *roundoff back handspring dunk* Annnnd *dunks bare ass* Done.

Now it's Jay's turn. He tells Sabrina she didn't just take it easy in the challenges, she took it easy all the time. Sabrina replies, "Well I couldn't very well go deep see fishing like I do!" Actually, I think you could have. The S.S. Vagina is very sea worthy.

Mike is up next and, for a seemingly quiet blah dude, he's holding onto a lot of anger. He's mad Handlebar blindsided him. He's mad she didn't prepare him for it. He's mad he's still in grief counseling over it. And, he's mad she did it all by herself and didn't let anyone else take the blame. Weirdo.

Tarzan goes next and it's just a lot of syllables. A lot of preplanned, not the least bit off the cuff, giant words. He thanks God for the fegacious moments of this romantic adventure at the end of his life and then thanks his wife for leaving footprints on his heart. It was probably an angioplasty gone awry. He's also happy his wife whispered her breath to him and her atoms swirled and blah, blah, blah. Look, here's the thing, this whole weird grand relationship with his wife was NEVER COVERED in the editing. We saw him hide a letter from her and then bow to her, but that's it! We have no frame of reference to pull from, no backstory, no exposition. So when I listen to Tarzan go on and on and on about some woman he's apparently planning to die with any day now, I feel nothing. Nothing. Not because I'm heartless, but because the ediitng sucks so bad and, well, OK maybe I'm a little heartless.

Leif, you're up. "Um hey, yeah, so I'm just wondering why I was voted off. It's been really hard for me." Dude, it was weeks ago! Live in the now. Even better than the question is Sabrina's answer: "I didn't even know you were going home until Handlebar told me to vote you off." Whoa, rein it in there Sabrina. Too vibrant, too vibrant!

Oh dear, here comes Jugs.
"Handlebar, we played the game very similar. *pew pew* I was a kingpin too. I had dumb ass bitches following me around too! *pew pew* If I was up there homegirl, you'd be fucked! *pew pew* Wut wut! I'm so flattered I'm such a threat! I want to strangle you to death Handlebar with my own bare hands." The camera swings in the direction of the finalists where we see everyone impaled with numerous nipple darts. Prunes' swinging body looks like a pin cushion. I quickly take a Polaroid of the TV.

Bitter, party of one? Troyzan says his real beef is with Handlebar and now she must answer the following question correctly or suffer the consequences. The question is, "Does this headband make me look like a douchebag?"

Finally, we have Kat. Lovely delicious Twizzlers-for-fingers Kat. Kat has a secret that she has been keeping from everyone. She had two open heart surgeries when she was 12 years old. Her doctor, Dr. Greg Smith, inadvertently operated on her ovaries and now she can't have kids unless she gets a real doctor to unhook her ovaries from her knees in another 12 years. 22 baby! *But I thought 12 + 12 = 24... oh never mind. Kat's math is the math of the future.* Long story short, she doesn't have time to be mad at everyone. It takes too much effort to be angry and not that much to smile. Awww. Bless. Good luck with your surgery Kat.

And that's that. Whisk me off to NYC so we can read the votes, bitches.
*whisk whisk*

Tada! Here I am in New York City. The winner of Survivor: One World is Handlebar. *shrugs shoulders* Whatever.

So, what did you guys think of last night's episode? Are you happy with your winner? Are you surprised that people actually voted for Sabrina? How would you have answered Troyzan's headband douche question? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

Thank you so much to everyone for spreading the word about this here little bloggy blog. I had a record number of readers this season and it's not like I have CBS to thank for that, so thank you bitches. You and you and especially you, the one there with no pants on. Thanks for coming back week after week and leaving your entertaining, and often really really weird, comments. Many of you clearly have drinking problems and I support that! *dunk* If you've enjoyed what I've done here this season, I ask that you please click on my PayPal button and show a bitch a little love.

This summer, beginning in July, you can find me over at the Bitchy Big Brother Blog and next September I will see you right back here for Survivor: The Philippines. Thanks again everyone! Me love you long time.