Monday, December 17, 2012

Karma Is A Bitch

This fete galante has come to a close. After 39 days, The Philippines has kindly asked us to take our leave and pack up our wares. Gingerly, we tuck our tissue wrapped porcelain into our picnic baskets and prepare to skip into the yon. Over our shoulders, gentle yet insistent waves purr, "get out, get out, get out." Bundle up those notions and trimmings, those cares and dreams. Nestle burrito rolls of sandy panties between the crinoline and farthingale. And when the covered wagons groan weak with the weight of our past, we can look once more at what was, what never will be again. Blow your kisses to the creepy crawlies. Wave goodbye to the frivolity of yesteryear. Exhale one last hot breath over the sweat in the sand. Salt on salt. Life sucked dry. And when you've said your final farewells, trundle onward, gentle readers. Trundle into your futures until you hear the camera's final whir. That last clickety clack of an empty magazine. The flicka flicka flicka of one lonely frame of film ticking down to silence. Fin. Let's recap, shall we?

We begin our final chapter of our torrid Filipino tale with the night chirping all around us. The crickets sing a mournful tune for our lost hot tamale. Looking around, the camp is a little blander, a little *yawn*.  Fetid clothes hang limply. An empty pot where abuela's rice and beans once sat proudly now sits empty and alone. Little footprints marking out the Merengue encircle the dying campfire. Yet our four remaining Survivors, giggle and guffaw. Yo, Melty (Michael) and Blair (Lisa), are you still giggling and guffawing this morning? Has the joy of kicking out your one and only chance of winning lingered? I wonder...

Golden Boy (Malcolm) is the only one whose giggles are tinged with worry. That feisty Shakira (Abi-Maria) dropped a compliment bomb and now he's left to sweep up the pink mist and body parts. Not only did she not go gentle into that good night, but she laid a wreath of laurel atop Golden Boy's head. With anger and resentment, Golden Boy rips the wreath off his head and tangles with the leaves caught in his tendrils. Furiously he tries to bury the crown deep in the sand hoping no one remembers ever seeing it. Maybe no one noticed. Maybe they were too busy giggling...

And this brings us to the big Reward Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge, you will race through a series of obstacles collecting bags of puzzle pieces along the way. Once you have all three bags of puzzle pieces, you will then use the pieces to solve a puzzle. But hold onto your nipples, bitches. This isn't just a regular ole Reward Challenge. This is a Reward Challenge that will inexplicably give the winner a huge advantage in the final Immunity Challenge. Como what? Why? Have we ever seen this before? Can't you just toss another enormous meal their way - I think it's been 8 hours since they've last gorged themselves on a buffet - and be done with it? What is this cockamamie advantage you speak of? Come back from Clever Clever Land, producers. Different doesn't always mean "better". Oh well. Survivors ready, go!

The players burst forth and as has been the norm lately, Melty and Golden Boy take an early lead with Dr. Denise somewhere in the middle and Blair way far behind wrestling with the skirts of her burka. If we fast forward to the puzzle portion, we'll find Denise furiously sliding pieces in and out - kind of like she does daily with her penis and vagina displays back in her sex office. "This one goes here and that one goes there." Melty, however, doesn't play with penis parts on a daily basis so he sits in a confused jumble while the puzzle pieces leap out of the puzzle frame - on their own accord - and into this lap.

Without a prayer and a clue, we can count Melty out and focus our attention on the good doctor and the young stud. Sliding a crucial piece into place, Golden Boy makes it over the hump and is able to slide the remaining pieces back into their rightful homes. There is no stopping him now as GOLDEN BOY WINS REWARD!!!

Back at Migrayne (Dangrayne), a woefully exhausted stench lingers in the air. Not only is everyone plum tuckered out, but that pesky Golden Boy has won an advantage in the next Immunity Challenge. Blair, in particular, is miffed and ticked and kerflipped. Ever since her brother Injustice visited the camp and gave her an injection of the naughty stuff, Blair's bloodlust for Golden Boy has been insatiable. At night she howls and claws at the earth while snarling and drooling over his sleeping form fighting the urge to sink her fangs into his tan and inviting throat. The longer he stays in this camp breathing and moving and adjusting his swim trunks just so, the more she craves his scarlet life force dripping down her chin. Plus, he's just so freaking good at everything! This Elizabeth Bathory of the Survivor world can only lay dormant for so long. It was the "Sister! Sister!" that set her off. We all have a trigger word that gets our juices flowing and makes our primal instincts bubble to the surface. "Sister" is Blair's ("Nipple" is mine).

Speaking of Golden Boy, he has long had a final three deal with Melty and Blair - only, I don't think they really know about it. Injustice left 7 weeks ago and Blair has been licking Melty's many bloody wounds to quench her thirst for strapping young buck blood. Ever since the Jeff Kent days, where a rotted parsnip and a carpet fiber equaled a million dollars, Blair has pined for Golden Boy's demise. And even though she turned on him in the past - lied to his front, pinched him in his back - Golden Boy still trusts her. In fact, he trusts her so much that he has now completely turned on his best good friend, Dr. Denise, Medicine Woman.

Dr. Denise and Malcolm have a lengthy history together. They survived the tyranny of Dreads (Russell) , were cruelly ripped apart midseason, and then happily reunited like a Parent Trap movie. This unlikely couple warmed our cockles. Their little hand dances and high fives made us want a wiggedy whack friendship just like theirs. Unfortunately, wiggedy whack has a short shelf life especially with that creepy Blair and Melty buzzing about camp murmuring about apostles and angels and vanilla wafers (surely Jesus tastes like vanilla, right?). With platitudes and beatitudes hanging everywhere you turn, you can't help but doubt your inner goodness. Or the goodness of your best good friend.

So, with Golden Boy and Dr. Denise eying each other up and down suspiciously, all Melty and Blair had to do was kick back, puff on a couple of smokes and wait for the two players who actually deserve to win this game to come a'running begging for safety. And that's exactly what happened. Golden Boy heard the rumors in the wind that Dr. Denise would be hard to beat so he dropped that prune like a hot potato and pledged his allegiance to the Christian Right. Similarly, Denise has been hearing some awfully good things about this Golden Boy lately. A) He's golden and gold is always good, never bad. Charcoal would be bad. Festering pus sores would be bad. But Golden Boy is neither. He's shiny, hard and looks fabulous with a tan. B) People like a Golden Boy. He's good for all occasions. He's fun at holiday parties, devilishly handsome in a lederhosen while scrubbing your kitchen floor, and knows his way around the back of a bar. Clearly, he must be destroyed.

From the looks of things, Blair and Melty are sitting pretty high atop their perch of judgment. No matter how many times I go over the calculations in my head, these two chuckleheads have a majority and will most certainly be going to the final three together. It doesn't even matter who wins Immunity. They'll both go in every scenario. The problem is that they don't very often agree on much. Blair wants to cut her threats loose as soon as possible while Melty wants to suckle them and take them to the end. You see, Melty has heard these rumors about Golden Boy, but he doesn't believe them at all. Somewhere in the fleecy cotton woolly section of his brain is a part that tells him he is the Sole Survivor. When Shakira hit him in the head with that coconut way back when, she must have broken the pulley that carries oxygen to Melty's noggin. You need to understand that Melty's brain doesn't look like yours or mine. His is made of legos and string and looks a lot like a dumb waiter. Only one thing can be delivered at a time - whether it be oxygen, pain, sight, recognition, memory. So when one of those strings breaks, we get a broken record of whatever it is he last heard. Today the record scratches... s-s-s-s-sole survivor, s-s-s-s-sole survivor.

And then everyone died.

And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge you will stand in the scorching sun and balance a ball on some sticks. Every 5 minutes your sticks will get longer while the softcore porn ab-cam zooms in on your tummies (except burka Blair's) and tries to look down your shorts. While your ripply taut muscles glisten in the sun you'll need to keep your balls from dropping. Except for you Golden Boy. If you drop your ball, you get another chance. Survivors ready, go!

The challenge begins and while the first round was simple enough with tiny little pixie sticks, we can see that Golden Boy is going to have a problem. All those bitches telling him he'd win everything has seeped into his brain and now his hands have a touch of the Parkinson's. Hey, I get it. I'm the exact same way. It drives me crazy when people say, "I can't wait for your next blog!" I don't know why, but it's like a festering fart in my face as I try to write. That one tiny comment can wreak havoc on my entire existence. And apparently Golden Boy is the same way. Which is why we should probably get married and have a lot of sex. What do you say Golden Boy? I've got the lederhosen right here.

But I digress! Look, you would too if you had to shuffle through photos like this one. I mean, come on! One inhale and you know what's going to happen. I'm not going to say it. I'm a dignified writer who references Disney movies and obscure historical serial killers. Again, tangent. (My god, this blog sucks today.)

So, Michael J. Golden Boy has a spasm in like round 2 and this happened. Naturally, his "touch" of Parkinson's is now full blown and attacking his entire central nervous system. We all know what's going to happen now. It is written all over Golden Boy's face. While he is a determined young buck, he has a teeny tiny problem of whisking away the bad thoughts and replacing them with happy ones in times of stress. And so, without a breeze, without a jostle, only with the camera strangely caressing his torso, Golden Boy flubs again and is out of the challenge. In anger he chucks his sticks at Dimples' head while fighting back tears of frustration. Come, come, Golden Boy. Rest your head on my bosoms. Shhh, there, there. *handcuffs Golden Boy to nightstand*

Back at the challenge, we are left with who we are left with. It is an unremarkable threesome, really. Whoever wins, it doesn't matter. We know who they'll pick. We know how this will play out. To their credit, they duke it out a little longer with Denise dropping next followed by Blair. So, ugh, MELTY WINS IMMUNITY!!!

Back at camp everyone congratulates Melty. Thin, sheer congratulations. Flimsy, meaningless congratulations. Congratulations' that don't mean anything. Congratulations' that you can easily poke your finger through. So while the monkey cymbals in Melty's brain were clapping with joy, Golden Boy confesses that everyone telling him he'd win really threw him off his game. In fact, it was Dr. Denise who laid it on pretty thick beforehand. Was it a reverse psychology thing? Did she know showering Golden Boy with compliments would completely freak him the fuck out? I wonder... tricky tricky Medicine Woman. It's tricky to rock a rhyme, to rock a rhyme that's right on time. It's tricky. 

So with the clang clang clanging in his noodle, Melty is very proud of himself. He hasn't tripped over anything or rammed a crustacean into his cornea yet today. And he has won Immunity. It's a banner day that calls for a smug face and an "I told you Golden Boy wasn't unbeatable." Dude, you held some sticks together. When you have Cocoa Puffs and cotton balls for a brain, it's easy not to let outside thoughts invade your mental clarity. Your thoughts get stuck in your creaky pulleys and just kind of hang out there until someone accidentally bumps into you and sends them to the proper nerve center.

All anyone can do now is make their case to the duo in charge. Again, how the hell did this happen? But, here we are with both Denise and Golden Boy pleading their cases to Melty and Blair. Denise says what Shakira and others have been saying at every Tribal Council - "No one can beat Golden Boy." Blair licks it up and loves it while Melty is offended that no one talks about him that way. He lost an eyeball, a tooth, scraped his knee, jostled his pulleys, broke a toe, survived an ember attack yet no one is singing his praises like they do the Golden Boy. Plus, if everyone thinks Golden Boy is so great then wouldn't it be better to win Survivor going up against the fiercest competition? There's that annoying morality crap turns people into dummies and ends up costing them a million dollars. It's always rearing its ugly head and waving pudding fingers in your face trying to lull you into a sense of uselessness.

And here we are at our first Tribal Council of the night. I'm going to kind of cruise through this because, let's face it, the only semi-interesting part of this finale episode was the jury. I hate to say I told you so (no I don't), but that is what happens when you lose the only player serving up any drama. The last thing I want to see is a bunch of people getting along. No one wants to see that! I want 13 episodes of Shakira spitting Brazil nuts in everyone's eyes and sprinkling the air with putas. Come back Shakira... come baaaack.

So, blah blah blah. In the end, Melty pussies out and we are forced to say goodbye to our man candy as Golden Boy is the 15th person voted out of Survivor Philippines. Golden Boy had a lot of promise for villain status early on, but it never really panned out. He went the way of the nice guy and I think it clouded his judgment a little bit. Had he stayed loyal to Denise, brought Shakira into the fold and just got his ass into that final three, he would be a millionaire today (or standing on the corner of the freeway selling fruit if you're Jeff Kent). Golden Boy played an excellent game up until those last few weeks where he somehow let the power fall into the hands of an indecisive Christian and the camp jester. However! The good news is he'll be getting another chance to redeem himself. That's right, ladies. Golden Boy will be back for Survivor Caramoan. And he goes into it with the biggest advantage you can ever have in Fans v. Favorites - at the time of filming, no one (fan or fave) had any idea who he was. So, good luck Golden Boy. It's been a pleasure embarrassing you these past few months. I look forward to doing it again in February. And, call me! I've got those lederhosen all ready for you.

Back at camp, the final three bemoan how brutal that Tribal Council was. Well, in front of each other they do, but once you get those scamps alone, their real feelings come tumbling out and they're very different from feeling sorry for poor sad sack Golden Boy. Denise, the queen of matter of fact, tells it like it is. She outwitted Golden Boy, plain and simple. Which, if we're being really real, isn't exactly true. The truth is that Blair and Melty were less scared of her than they were of Golden Boy. Speaking of Blair, is that her burka I see strewn on the shore? Yup. Blair is having celebratory naked time in the water while Melty is off pouting because Golden Boy congratulated Denise at Tribal Council for winning a million dollars. That last little remark by our resident stud really chapped Melty's ass which, naturally, makes me giggle. It's always funny to see a grown man act like a 13 year old girl who just got passed over for the winter formal. Maybe he'll ask you out next year Melty. Fingers crossed!

Let's skip forward to the good stuff. And by "good stuff", I mean "mediocre crapola." I don't know. Correct me if you think I'm wrong, but I really hated this finale. There were a few classic Jury moments but nothing like Juries of yesteryear. This Jury was more into hearing themselves speak than they were into hearing answers to questions. And since I was so dissatisfied with the performance of these stoned miscreants, I've heavily edited the nothing material they thrust upon me. Let us begin.

First up is Dr. Denise. With a laser pointer to the Survivor logo, she begins her speech,
"I beat all of you bitches. Wut wut! Here I am and there you are. Peace out."

Blair is up next and unfortunately for us all, she is not quite as succinct as Denise is.
"My strategy wasn't pretty. I fell down, I dusted myself off, and I learned. It took me 86 weeks to figure out that Survivor was a game and had Injustice never told me that teeny tiny fact, I might not even be here today. But thanks to him *swoon* and the deep thrust of ideas he squirted deep inside me, I survived to play my ugly game. It wasn't pretty. But I threw a punch and knocked out the heavyweight Golden Boy. God be with you."

Lastly we have Melty.
"Returning player. Returning. Player. I did things with such FIRE this time. And I didn't even fall in! I love Survivor. I melt it from my innards. Partly, because the pus has to leak out once in a while or I get infected, but partly because I just LOVE this game so much!"

Blackbeard, please ask the finalists any questions you may have.
"Avast! Normally I'd congratulate all you scallywags, but not today. Shiver me timbers, I cannot do that. If you started this game with a holier than thou attitude - *cough Blair cough Melty* - and then played contradictory to that, you reap what you sow. Karma is a bitch! Arrr!"

And here comes Jello-Pop. With a slow long drag on his cigarette and a languid sip of what I can only assume is a Xanax/THC slushee, he begins...
"Hey, 'sup. Good game." 
*collapses into a heap of tweed and suede as a lone Sobranie burns a hole through his Saville Row trousers*

Prickly Pete approaches next. With the toe of his shoe, he rolls Jell-O Pop over for a flat surface to stand on.
"Blair, they should call you Judas."
"You hide behind everyone you didn't vote for."
"But I, I, I didn't know Blackbeard was going home!"
"Shut up bitch and go make me a turkey pot pie."
*Blair wonders to herself where production keeps the pie crust*
"Denise, why did you play this game better than everyone else?"
"I looked for the cracks and I penetrated them. I'm a sex therapist you know."

Squirming and giggling her way over to her assigned mark on the floor, RC smooths down the front of her crimson dress before tangling her jittery fingers together into a nervous jumble of skin and bones.
"A huh huh, a huh huh, a huh huh."
*Denise, Blair and Melty quizically look at one another*
"A huh huh, a huh huh..."
*The Jury shifts uncomfortably while Shakira sneaks a hand into her own bra*
"A huh huh, a huh huh, a huh huh..."
*Blair looks at her watch wondering when RC's time is up*
"A huh huh. Blair, you're sneaky and sweet. A huh huh."
"Thank you RC."
"Melty, a huh huh, tell me about day 19."
"I thought Scurvy was going home! I never wanted to get rid of you."
"A huh huh, a huh huh, a huh huh... a huh huh, a huh huh, a huh huh."
All of a sudden, the laughter stops as RC inhales sharply and her body begins to teeter forward. Cupping one hand over the side of his mouth, Prickly Pete leans forward and whispers to no one in particular, "Tim-ber!" When RC's body hits the floor, we see one shiny ninja star plunged into the back of her skull. With a slow smirk creeping up the corner of her mouth, Shakira stares straight ahead and beams.

Clean shaven and, for some reason, wearing another infernal ponytail (Stop it! I'm giving you advice here, girl advice, NO MORE PONYTAILS!!), Golden Boy is up next.
"I didn't have questions until now. Denise, stop appeasing everybody."
*Denise nods*
"Don't nod, don't nod! Cut it out! You're doing it again, making everyone happy."
*Denise stares with wide eyes*
"I want to know why you played better than everyone else."
*Denise begins to nod causing Golden Boy to make a slicing motion across his neck.*
"Don't lie. Don't appease. Don't be everyone's friend."
"Appeasing is who I am and keeping the peace is part of the game. I'm standing here and you're standing over there. Wut wut!"
"You didn't answer my question."
"It was a dumb ass question. I'm better than you. End of story."

A smiling Jeff Kent steps up to the plate and he seems different, almost jovial.
"Melty, there are three types of people in the world. People who make things happen, people who watch things happen and people who wonder what the hell just happened."
*Melty's smile contorts into a hard thin line as the Jury bursts into laughter.*
"Which one are you?"
"I definitely make things happen. When my name was said that one time at camp. That time when someone said, 'Where did Melty put the machete?' I went and i found it. Sure, I sliced off the end of my nose, but I found the machete when people wanted it."
"Blair, tell me how you didn't play the middle."
"I wasn't on The Middle. I was on The Facts... whoopsie. Never mind."
*Jeff Kent scratches his head*
"I can't recall ever playing the middle. I was the first one to make a major move. I knew Golden Boy had an Idol so I tattled to Prickly Pete and then he twisted my plan and turned it into his own so... what was the question again?"
"Plan B! Plan B! I did that. Morning After Pill. That was all me."

And here comes the one and only Shakira. Looking lovely in a cha cha dress.
"Ooh, I miss your Puta Rice & Beans, Shakira!"
"Shut up Melty. My heart is broken. Do you even care if I vote for you?"
"I deserve your vote."
"You deserve my foot in your cabeza, puta."
"Outwit, outplay, outlast."
"Shut up moron. You're such an idiot."

Last but not least we have Scurvy. I'm going to skip the first 20 minutes of his speech because it was basically him talking about heart and soul and congratulations and oh shut up, I don't care.
"Denise, I'm confused by things you've said tonight. No biggie, you've shown the world you're an enormous bitch."
*Denise looks back stunned*
"Melty, you were so worried about your name coming up, but your name was never written down! Mine was written down fifteen times. Fif-teen. You were never the target I was. Never!"
*Melty begins to eat his face*
"Blair, would you like to share your secret or shall I?"
*points to Blair with force* "YOU, madam, were on a television show! From 1833 until 1996 you were on The Facts Of Life." 
*turns to the Jury* "She was a TV star! American's Sweetheart! Guilty!!!"
Then, an interesting thing happened. All the God that Blair has ever known left her body, her soul, and her belief system in that moment. Poof! Just like that it was gone. Her eyes grew beady and black and she looked at Scurvy with an evil so pure that even I was impressed. Having said that, it was a great reveal by Scurvy and as much as I dislike him, I'll give him credit for that moment. He held onto that secret even while at Ponderosa waiting, planning, and plotting for this one moment. The pay off was worth it so good on you Scurvy. Now, go away. We're done here. Buh bye.

Bitch or not, the votes went the exact way they should have gone... CONGRATULATIONS DENISE!!! You have just won one million dollars (or a baggie of cigarette ashes if you're Jeff Kent).

Out of the choices we had left, I'm glad Denise won. I feel like she was the most deserving of the three, and hey, she reads this here little bloggy blog! Plus, it is incredibly comforting to know that her winnings will go towards vibrators and cock rings. I absolutely can't hate on that.

Overall, I enjoyed Survivor Philippines. There were a handful of casting missteps and some whackadoo production decisions (remember the ball in the mud forfeit???), but we had some interesting characters and hopefully I managed to entertain you all just a smidge. Super bitchy thanks to Shakira, Golden Boy, Jell-O Pop, Denise, Blair and Pixie for reading my silly drivel and taking the time to comment and/or send me love notes. More importantly, thanks to each and every one of you who come back week after week. Thank you for taking the time to comment whether it is to create insane stories of your own or just to yell at me. You guys rock. *dunk dunk*

So, what did you guys think of this season? Did the right person win? Was that finale as excruciating for you as it was for me? Did the Jury phone it in or were they all wasted? Comment it out bitches and have a great day! I'll see you back here Thursday, February 14th, 2013 for Survivor Caramoan!

And if you've enjoyed what I've done this season, please click on my PayPal Button and show a bitch some love.

Thanks to Rob Beasley for all of my Survivor photos!