Thursday, February 21, 2013
My Pants Are Too Tight
Merriam Webster defines pollution as: "The presence in or introduction into the environment of a substance or thing that has harmful or poisonous effects." Pollution can be anything from chemicals buzzing willy nilly in the air to the airport down the road with its planes whizzing noisily overhead. Big thick industrial type contaminants seeping into our lungs and ringing in our ears. Unsafe tap water tainted with hormones. Apparently, frustrated women bang their laundry out down by the creek and then pierce estrogen pills in an act of defiance as their bloomers dry. Pollution is all around us. We will never escape it. Headaches. Cancer. ADHD. "Turn down that stereo!" But, perhaps, there is one of kind of pollution that can be stopped. Introduced into the environment a couple decades ago, it is still young. Still learning. Still adapting. I speak, of course, of the honey badger. A tough, persistant little stocky fellow with skin thickened by the belts of uncles, the honey badger doesn't play fair. He infects. He pokes. He prods. But if we grab him by the neck where the skin is the thinnest. If he club him over the head with young Billy's baseball bat left in the back of the minivan, we just might be able to remove him from society. Our best plan of attack is when the mating season is nigh. When the female honey badger swings her hips to and fro. The male will be frozen in shivers and moans for he fears the very act that can keep his bloodline alive. If only there was a seasoned federal agent and a sophisticated system of bamboo anti-tank rifles to help us orchestrate such an attack. Let's recap, shall we?
We begin under the cloak of night. The honey badger's favorite time of day. In the stillness, he can burrow and hunt. With his foretoes turned inward, he can trot hither and thither poking and daring innocents to spar with him. And this is how we come to find Lil Hantz (Brandon) on this starry night. The eviction of Francurtaincall has tickled the moral ooey gooey center of the young lad and he is having a hard time dealing with the cruel and unusual departure. Dawn, however, has consulted her Mormon chore wheel and it turns out that "Vote Out Non-threats & Embarrass Them" is right up there with "Re-alphabetize Osmond Albums." It is moral, acceptable and, quite frankly, just another item to check off of her to-do list. On the other hand, this honey badger guy taunting her with misspelled arms and defending his friend is, in her mind, an immoral bully. I'm going to have to award the point to the honey badger on this one. Sure, he's demonstrating an aggressive stance and his canine teeth are dripping with saliva, but he is standing up for his best good friend and it is hard to hate him for that.
But someone can hate him for that. Someone can huddle in the corner with a glass of Chablis with 3 Xanax floating on top and hate him with a clenched teeth ferocity. That someone is Dawn. It's been a long day of ironing and carpooling and all she wants is for Calgon to take her away. Instead, she gets a rabid muskrat in her face rattling her fragile nerves. There is no foamy bubble bath to sink into. There is no Danielle Steele novel to get lost in. There is only this lonely night... and tears. Frantic, whole body shaking, tears. The kind of tears that keep coming and coming. The kind that are accompanied by primal wails. Hiccups and snot and gasps and chokes. A face contorting ugly cry that reminds you of everything wrong with the world. Mean people! Pollution! A fallen bundt cake! *shakes fist in the air* Oh, cruel world.
And that cruelness is infectious. What was wrapping Dawn in a tight embrace has now leapt back over to Lil Hantz. It is in his blood now. It is coursing through his veins with a hot Sriracha kicker. Is it cruelness in general or is it something more specific? Something a little closer to home. Something revengeful and fedora'd. Something mischievous and rascally. Something this little bloggy blog once referred to as Lucifer (Russell Hantz). Lil Hantz toys with the idea of throwing his cares to the wind and becoming the camp saboteur the way his infamous uncle once did. But, let's face it, that's not Lil Hantz. It's not in him to tinkle on beans and poop in socks. It's not in his nature. He can be hot tempered at times, but that inner moral struggle is what grounds him. It is what brings him back around. In the end, Lil Hantz workshopped the evil plan and found it didn't really have a captive audience. So, he'll shelve it and loan it to whatever prepubescent Hantz is on deck for a reality show in 2020.
Over at Goiter (Gota), the atmosphere isn't quite so tense... yet. In fact, it is sort of summer day in a garden lazy. And, I don't know about you, but when I'm lying in a relaxed state sipping gin coolies in my garden watching butterflies flutter around me, I like to dab a certain fragrance on my neck. Guerlain's Shalimar, with its citrus top notes, floral undertones and flirty defiance, it is the only scent befitting such a scene. So when I see Shamar lying in a magnificent state of repose on a rattan cot sipping pina coladas, I have no choice but to henceforth refer to him as "Shalimar".
Instead of contributing and working around camp, Shalimar (Shamar) prefers to spend his days conserving his energy and worrying about his own hydration. Now, I don't know if when Shalimar was in the Eye-Rack he experienced severe headaches and cerebral edema from a violent loss of electrolytes, but hydration is all he thinks about. If the entire camp isn't working to refill his canteen, then he'll lie perfectly still so nary a drop of sweat can trickle down his cheek. Also! Also, also, also... we learn that this is actually Shalimar's strategy. To be lazy. To be useless. To be so hated that his tribemates will deem him nonthreatening. Umm, fancy boy, you're 300 pounds with a military background and can toss Survivors through the air like confetti. You are indeed a threat, fat man. So, while I can see the game you are playing and the verse you are contributing to this powerful play, it is a bad verse. It's like a non-rhyming Hoops (Semhar) verse where she talks about having 10,000 babies with some weirdo guy.
But, wouldn't you know it? Wouldn't you bloody know it? Someone is falling for Shalimar's antics and that someone is Freebush (Sherri). In fact, she tells him to continue on. Keep being a pain in the ass! Keep pissing everyone off! To Freebush, Shalimar is a number. A number that makes her alliance bigger than the Heathers Alliance. Oh those Heathers are so snotty. They're so full of themselves that they won't even sleep in the same shelter as everyone else. They sleep together on the beach... swinging. Eddie with Allie. Allie with Hope. Hope with Reynold. Reynold with Eddie. It's a 1970's key party is what it is. Each night they toss a personal item into half of a conch shell and leave the rest up to chance. So, while you may be jealous of how the Heathers spend their nights, don't be. Freebush has herself a gang of six now and the Heathers' days are numbered.
Back at Baklava (Bikal), Lil Hantz is suddenly feeling the repercussions of the night before. His head hangs low and his shoulders slump as he confides to Cochran that, today, he feels like he is lower on the totem pole. This confiding in Cochran seems to be a recurring theme this season. If you'll remember in the last episode, both Franceilingfan and Dawn sought the young lad out to seek his advice. And now I know why. He's Cochran on the half shell! Anyone who can sit bone dry on a half shell in the middle of the ocean is someone you need to bow down in front of and tell all your sins to. He's like Venus, only slightly more ginger-y. Being wise and all knowing and riding across the sea with dolphins splashing around him, Cochran tells us that while Lil Hantz has his moments of overwhelming pleasantness, he is also a sociopathic murderer-in-the-making that will eventually kill his entire family and store their appendages in a freezer underneath the stairs. So basically, for the rest of his stay in Caramoan, Cochran will sleep with one eye open... probably on his half shell... several hundred yards offshore in case Lil Hantz gets that murderous urge in the middle of the night.
Speaking of murderous urges, here comes Phillip Sheppard *clicks heels and salutes*. With a generous wave of his hand, Lil Hantz invites the former special agent to join their conversation. He tells Phillip that he'd like them all to be on the same page and vote the same person out the next time they go to Tribal Council. Phillip then shuts his eyes and nods solemnly in the young lad's direction. "My Sensei, Boston Rob, used to minimize the flow of data. But when I look at you and ask, 'Trust? Don't trust?' Shamon! Whoo! Not. Enough. Data. Yet. Specialist. Still. Waiting. For. Confirmation. In every great corporation there are business lunches and occasionally company picnics. I don't know. Can I count on you to throw horseshoes in a timely manner? Can you master the egg toss before Spring? Not. Enough. Data. Right now, you're middle management. But if you work hard and put in the extra hours, I might be able to bump you up to a low level Vice President. I'm not giving you a corner office though and definitely no overtime!" And then he radioed into the palm of his hand and somersaulted backwards into the trees.
And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge, you will race out to a raft and dive down to a cage where you will remove bamboo sticks that will release floaty rings (floaty rings seem to be this season's balls). Once you have released all of your rings, you will then have to toss the rings and try to land them on 3 posts. In addition, you are playing for a fishing kit Reward. Survivors ready? *Crash! Flergle! Kerplonk!* Oh, never mind that. That's just the coconut rocket launcher falling out of Phillip's pants. Go!
For the Favorites, Erik, Mascaroni (Andrea) and Mowgli (Brenda) are on the raft. For the Fans, it's Julia, Freebush and Hope. The rafts cruise peacefully over the water - much like Cochran on his half shell when he's running from the murderous rage in Lil Hantz's eyes. Both teams arrive at their platforms at the same time and into the water they go. Freebush for the Fans and Erik for the Favorites. Both quickly release their first rings and after yanking a few more poles, Erik gets switched out for Mascaroni. However, on the Fans side, Freebush refuses to get out of the water! She's like a wet pussy (cat) bobbing up and down with stray hairs in her eyes. She struggles to catch her breath as the Favorites continue retrieving ring after ring after ring. Mowgli plops in and still Freebush plugs her nose and tries again. Even from the shore we can hear the rest of her team shouting, "Switch out! Switch out!"
At this point the Favorites have 6 rings compared to the Fans' 1. And since I'm sure you hate reading these challenge summaries as much as I hate typing them, let's fast forward a wee bit to the Favorites happily back onshore. And if someone could dim the lights please. *lights dim* Thank you. Bowm chicka wow wow... look at Golden Boy (Malcolm) throw. Look at him toss those rings so effortlessly. He lands one! He land two! Don't stop baby, keep going. *toss toss toss* Alright, so he's not exactly a master thrower. That's ok because he has long luscious hair, loses his shorts frequently, responds to the phrase, "Barkeep, more gin!", and has Phillip Sheppard *21 gun salute* to pick up the slack. With a flick of his wrist and a push off of his toes, Phillip Sheppard lands the third ring as FAVORITES WIN IMMUNITY!!!
Strangely, after the challenge ends, we don't return to bask in the misery of the Goiters. Instead, we end up with the Baklavas. At home I scratched my head and wondered if Lil Hantz is about to slaughter the tribe "accidentally" as he runs up and down the beach swinging a machete and celebrating their win. Maybe everyone's heads get in the way of his merriment? Or maybe Cochran gets whisked out to sea on his half shell and there is a dramatic air rescue on the horizon. I just don't know. I don't know why we're here at Baklava, but the suspense is killing me. *pushes Play*
"Hello, my name is Phillip Sheppard, former federal agent and CEO of Smiths-R-Fuss. I mean, Stilts-R-Bus. Skrancesqua-R-Muss. Whatever. You know what I'm trying to say. For unforeseen reasons we have expanded our operations here in The Philippines and I need a crackerjack Brownie Troop to help me on my mission. Allow me to introduce them to you. This here *points to Golden Boy* is The Fornicator. And this gangly piece of peeling skin *nods to Cochran* is our Intelligence Attache. Over there is Mascaroni, The Eliminator. She eats lots of beans and eliminates to the point where I cannot stop the flow of, umm, "data". And here we have Corinne, The Dominatrix. *Corinne whips the air and shoves a ball gag into Cochran's mouth* And that little person there *points to Dawn* is True Spit. I mean, True Grit. We are not a large corporation, but we are indeed a powerful one. Our mission is one that not many dare take on - to beat the skra... I mean, glin... I mean, prib... heck, to beat the HECK, out of the Fans. Thank you and good day."
And then he cloaked himself in a camouflage net and shuffled next to a bush. Was I right or was I right when I said that as long as Phillip is on this show, it will be The Phillip Sheppard Show?
Finally, we soar over to the Goiters and find Eddie in unusually high spirits. "Theresth no fisth here anyway," he declares. Everyone kind of laughs awkwardly and kicks the sand with their toes. As a group they discuss and brainstorm possible reasons for their loss. Michael thinks they needed a cheerleader out on the raft for morale. Eddie thinksth everyone was placthed incorrectly. Shalimar thinks people need to realize their limitations (*ahem Freebush*) and own up to it. And Reynold? Well, Reynold uses this opportunity to make sure one of the Heathers isn't going home, "Shalimar I'm going to call you out right now! You're behavior is not acceptable! Can everyone hear me? Shalimar. Bad man!" Reynold then mimes making a giant 'S' with a Sharpie on a piece of parchment paper. "I think you're childish!" Then he makes an 'H' and winks to everyone around him. "You're pouty!" He makes a giant air 'A' and nods. "You're childish!" We get it Reynold. We get what you're trying to do. You finally did some counting on the way back from the Challenge and you realized that 4 isn't a high enough number. We get it.
BUT, you've roused the beast so now you have to deal with him. I'll step aside while Shalimar responds... THEN LET IT BE CHILDISH. LET IT BE CHILDISH. LET IT BE CHILDISH. LET IT BE CHILDISH. *inhales* LET IT BE CHILDISH. LET IT BE CHILDISH. *spit flies everywhere* LET IT BE CHILDISH. I was ready to roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of it all, but then a slow smile creeped along my lips. A fight. A fight! *titty bounce* How long has it been since we've had a genuine, for real, all out, lips flapping fight on Survivor? You can double check my math, but I think it's been like 18 seasons. Hang on. I'll be right back. *skips to the fridge and removes 2 bowls of gold glitter* All together now... DUNK 'EM BITCHES!!!
I may love my fights, but Reynold clearly does not. Shalimar doesn't even blink when Reynold ends by saying, "I'm going to vote for you." In fact, Shalimar kind of giggles to himself before flopping his head back onto his pillow. Reynold, however, listens to those giggles and, instead of giggles, he hears alarm bells. Quickly, and with urgency, he then spins on his heel and announces, "We gotta keep this fire going. I'm going to get some wood." Wood. Is that what they're calling the Hidden Immunity Idol these days? Actually, they might be. More on that later (bulge).
With Reynold off climbing trees and digging holes, the anti-Heathers get together and discuss how they should vote tonight. Duck Dynasty (Matt) wonders if perhaps they shouldn't just vote out Shalimar anyway and he can "pretend" he's with the Heathers. They'll still have a 5-4 advantage over them with Shalimar out of the picture. Freebush flat out says no. She insists that Shalimar will calm down once the tension in the air dissipates. And before Duck can get Michael on his side with the whole "voting out Shalimar" thing, Freebush yanks Laura over and asks her who they should vote out tonight. Laura replies, "One of the girls. Allie." Allie?! Why? She's the only Heather I actually like. It turns out that Laura thinks Allie is a strategic threat. I do too which is precisely why I like her. Laura continues, "She's the only one of the four pretty people that's really thinking." I don't disagree with you Laura, but... not Allie. Not yet!
I guess we can't avoid it any longer. I guess we have to actually check in with Reynold and see what he's up to. With only creepy crawlies around him, Reynold tiptoes through the jungle thick and starts poking sticks into random holes. You see, he's a fan of Survivor so he knows that there is an Idol out there somewhere. In one tree he finds a rock. But in the second, bam! The Hidden Immunity Idol. You know what I wonder? Does the Hidden Immunity Idol hider person get in trouble if the Idol is found too quickly and without a clue? Are they no longer invited to Dimples' Opium Den tent parties? OR do the producers want the cast to find the Idols easily so it creates plot points? I remember back in Survivor heyday when an Idol was underground and you had measure paces and know the latitude and longitude merely by your wits and which way the wind was blowing. Idols used to be hidden by burrowing nocturnal animals (much like a honey badger). Deep and safely out of sight. Now they throw them at trees and see where they land.
So, with an Idol now in his possession, Reynold has to be sure not to skip back into camp with a huge grin on his face or a giant bulge in his pocket. BUT, tonight is Tribal Council and Dimples will be there. This calls for skinny jeans! While Reynold shoves his legs into his pants, the rest of the tribe is lolling about wondering what to eat for dinner tonight. Laura then casually glances over her shoulder to steal a peek at the handsome Reynold sliding his pants up over his ass. Only, what she sees isn't a succulent piece of man meat. It's a giant bulge fighting against the lycra in his jeans. Laura then leans closer and squints her eyes to get a better look. Through the thin material she can make out an indigenous Filipino warrior symbol carved into stone. "That there is an Idol," she thinks to herself. But strangely, she also thinks that Reynold is unselfish enough to hand the Idol to one of his paramours. A) Reynold would never do that. B) The Heathers have no idea that Allie is the name the rest of the tribe is considering. It's a long shot, but I can't fault Laura for thinking and, strangely, having impeccable over the shoulder glance timing. Very impressive.
And here we are at Tribal Council. We begin with Dimples asking Michael how difficult it is out in the wilderness with people you might not have anything in common with. Michael says that Freebush and Duck have families. "And then there's the foursome." Did you hear how he said it? FOUR-SOME. Like it was bitter and he had to spit it out as quickly as he could. Something tells me Michael must not swing. Dimples asks Allie how the foursome came to be and Allie says, "We were just drunk one night and then Reynold had this wild idea about keys and, I don't know, I've never been with a woman before so I thought, 'Why not?'." Dimples nods with understanding. Why not, indeed.
Dimples then turns his attention to Shalimar and asks how this experience has been for him so far. "Well, Dimples, I'm 300 pounds and I've had 2 bowls of rice and whatever coconuts fell and rolled to my side as I napped in the shelter so I'm a little drained and lacking energy." Dimples then asks Shalimar if this is an experience he's used to. Shalimar tells Dimples that he's been in the Eye-Rock for two tours with very little food. The only difference with Eye-Rack is that there are leaders there while here on Survivor it is full of individuals.
Michaels agrees with Shalimar's assessment and says he knew they were in trouble the second they started strategizing. Dimples then turns to Reynold to see if he agrees. "Why yes Dimples, I do agree. We need to be one cohesive unit and *stands and points to Shalimar* THAT MAN is the guilty one, your honor. He critiques us too much. He doesn't help at all while I'm here covered in cuts and rashes." Eddie blurts out, "I counted Dimplesth. He wasth in the tent for nineteen hoursth today."
To Shalimar's credit, he doesn't deny the nineteen hour nap he took. But he does think that he's an outcast and the "5th scapegoat". I think he meant "wheel". Wheel. Scapegoat. It could happen to anyone.
Dimples then turns to Laura and asks what she think of all this. Laura says she saw something untoward go down and now it's shattered her faith in family and loyalty. "I saw a bulge from one pocket." Reynold's neck snaps in her direction and ever so slowly the blood starts to drain from his face. Laura then turns to look Reynold in the eye and says, "I will not say who." Dimples is all like, "Uh bitch, you just did!" Reynold now has no choice but to whip out his bulge. "Dimples, my pants are too tight." And then the two bicker a little bit over why he'd bring the Idol with him to Tribal in the first place. I'm going to give a point to Reynold on this one. It would have been STUPID for him to leave it behind. What if his name came up in a suspicious way? Laura, you seem like a smart girl, don't be a dingbat. You would have brought it too.
Let's get to the vote and wrap this bitch up for this week. If anyone has the Hidden Immunity Idol and would like to play it, now is the time. Reynold lies flat on his back, shoves the Idol into his pocket again and struggles to zip his jeans back up. Eddie then grabs a pair of pliers and helps the lad zip things up while Hope whispers for Reynold to suck it in. Teamwork!
Sadly, Allie is the second person voted out of Survivor Carmoan Islands. I'm annoyed because this is one of those shitty votes where someone got the short end of the stick before we could actually see what they were made of. Personally, I would have preferred Hope went home. Oh well.
So, what did you think of last night's episode? Will the anti-Heather alliance stick together? How much longer will the Baklavas continue to amuse Phillip Sheppard? Is Dawn peri-menopausal? Should I call Eddie, Theddie? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!
Thanks to Rob Beasley for my Survivor photos.