Thursday, April 25, 2013


Crumpled on the floor listening to the clock go tick tock, tick tock, an ambulance whizzes by in the distance. Has it come to retrieve my heart? Take it away! Begone with it! Throw it onto the fire. I have no use for it anymore... this crumpled black thing churning in my chest gurgling and spewing sludge before the ash. The last remnants of my life force reduced to an inky black tar. Sluicing through my veins like an infinite serpent slithering its way into wrapping around my insides. Squeezing my guts like a sponge and crushing my ribs as if they were made of toothpicks. For what is my purpose if there is nothing shiny to look at? For whom do I scratch flowery musings onto this parchment? And why don't I hear the wail of the ambulance anymore? For whence has it gone? Another fraulein perhaps. Another crumpled pixie tangled up in hair and sadness. Another tiny breath in the darkness trying to pick up the shattered pieces of what used to be inspiration. Pieces too tiny to glue back together. Tiny shards to be swept up and shaken around in cupped hands before being thrown against the computer screen where hopefully they'll piece themselves together into an overly melodramatic blog about a reality show. Le sigh. Let's recap, shall we?

We continue our tragic tale with the night hanging thick around us. A lone bat sits high up in a tree and waits for her camp companions to return home safely. When she finally hears their footsteps in the sand, she spreads her wings and flutters away to the tent where she is most likely to get a contact opium high. The tent of the 'Dimpled One' with its chiffon mosquito nets, beaded curtains and melancholy lute players sprinkled across hand woven rugs is where she'll spend the night tonight. Back at Edamame (Enil Edam) the only contact high one can hope for is from the manly musk wafting off of the Three Amigos. Dame Reynold, in particular, is especially intoxicating this midsummer's eve. Surrounded by the six sycophants his best mate Golden Boy (Malcolm) just cuckolded, the Dame basks in the glory of safety. He signs autographs, blushes appropriately and tucks the pair of panties offered to him by Calgon (Dawn) deep into his pocket. Tis good to be a Dame tonight. Tis very good indeed. 

Similarly, Golden Boy is also feeling a sense of pride and rightly so. It wasn't easy to finance the corporate takeover of Slurp-R-Futz, but he pulled it off and now he can wheel that executive chair out into the ocean once and for all. Edamame is finally through with board meetings, through with H.R. seminars and, most importantly, through with Panty Casual Fridays. Shaggy poodle Erik is grateful for the takeover and immensely satisfied with the changes around the office. No longer does he have to avoid looking everyone in the eye and keep his head down at his desk. Golden Boy has released him from the copy machine and now he is free to socialize with his colleagues at TGI Friday's Happy Hour like he always wanted. But not all of Edamame is pleased with the corporate takeover. Bespectacled fop Cochran puts on a brave face on the outside, but on the inside his anxiety levels and allergies are all a jumble of confusion and concern. 

The next morning, as reality begins to set in and the executive chair washes ashore covered in seaweed and barnacles, the remaining Scruff-R-Nuts find themselves exhausted and spent. The candy jar at reception is empty, the vending machines offer nothing but cobwebs, and all that remains in the coffee can are some guano and post-its. With the mood bleak and the sky gray, the gloom is much too much for Mowgli (Brenda). What was once quiet and meek suddenly erupts into weeping and snot as Mowgli breaks down and succumbs to the hunger that is ravaging everyone. Naturally, Calgon's motherly instinct kicks in and she does what every TV mom does - she rushes to get a glass of questionably clean water because, as we all know, water fixes everything. We've seen it before on the silver screen. A heroine breaks down and she's weirdly offered a glass of water as a remedy. Oh, your son died? Here, have a glass of water. The aliens abducted your baby? Here's a nice refreshing glass of water to make it all better. Unless water is code for "gin", I don't see how it can help. Especially if the glass of water is tan with tadpoles frantically swimming hither and thither trying to get out. 

But fear not damsel in distress, here comes Tree Mail to make it all better.

And this brings us to the big Survivor Auction. Come on in guys! You've all been out here for 800 days and even though Survivor regularly stuffs you with obscenely extravagant Reward buffets, here is yet another chance for all of you to shovel food into your gobs. You've each been given $500 for today's Auction. Bidding will be in $20 increments. There is no sharing of money and no sharing of food. The Auction will end without warning so don't screw this up.

Oh believe me, Golden Boy won't screw this up at all. He's the man with a plan. Who needs food? He's after anything that can help him stay in the game just a little longer. That's my Golden Boy. Always thinking. Always planning ahead. Always shunning the pleasures of life for good old fashioned common sense.

"We begin the Auction with a nice cold Heine..."
"I didn't say what the item was yet."
"You said Heiny and I'm pretty sure you weren't offering strippers."
"3 beers and nuts sold to Golden Boy for $20!"

It all happened so fast that at home I stared at the TV and then down at my blank page of notes again. Did he just...? He didn't really... Oh, hell no. And then I saw this:

So, not only does coffee unleash the lad's libido, but a brewski on a hot summer's day is simply too tempting to pass up. And like someone wearing a co-ed naked lacrosse t-shirt, Golden Boy chugs his beers one after another strapping on a nice healthy buzz before Dimples can even plate the next item. At home I shook my head in disbelief at first. But, let's get real. Had I been out there and Dimples unveiled a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, I would have punched Calgon in the face and ripped the cork out with my teeth. Cheers, Golden Boy.

The next item remains covered and the bidding slowly creeps upward with Calgon, Erik and Mascaroni (Andrea) all tossing in bids. But then, the Dame. Always one for dramatic flair and precision timing, the Dame waits until Dimples has his gavel in the air before shouting, "$180, my liege!" Sold! But, not so fast. You can either have this here covered dome or what is under covered dome number 2. *pause* OR, what is under covered dome number 3. The Dame stares wide-eyed while frantically fluttering his hand-painted fan back and forth. What to do, what to do. Cochran begins to whisper something about some guy named Monte Hall, but the Dame isn't familiar with that particular actor's stage work so he sticks with his original choice and takes number 1 - a gnarly piece of pizza shriveled up in the Filipino sun. Unfortunately for the Dame, dome number 2 was the rest of the pizza which Freebush (Sherri) ended up nabbing for a cool $500.

Continuing on, Calgon blows her entire wad on a roast chicken. And then we get to what Dimples describes as "information in this game". Golden Boy shouts, "$480!" At home I put my head in my hands knowing one of other douche nuggets is going to bid $500 and steal it away from him. I waited and I waited and, oh my god, no one bid $500! What the...?!? Miraculously, Golden Boy ends up with a clue for another Hidden Immunity Idol. He has 60 seconds to read and memorize it which, let's face it, probably would have been a lot easier had he not been three sheets to the wind at this point.

The next item remains covered and a weirdly weepy bidding war breaks out between Mowgli and Mascaroni. I'm not exactly sure why Mowgli starts bawling again since the bidding is only at $280 and she has $500 sitting her in hand. Nonetheless! Mascaroni wins the item for $280 sending Mowgli into another tailspin. Maybe the next item up for bid is a bottle of Lexapro. Lord knows, Mowgli could do with a little pharmaceutical assistance at this point. Anyhow, this is where a big fat moral dilemma weasels its way into the game. Morality, pfft! My views on morality are very Wilde-ian in nature. Basically, I don't believe in it and think it's a waste of time.  So, when Mascaroni chooses bags of rice and beans for the tribe instead of a most tantalizing bowl of spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and *gasp* a glass of red wine, I tut tutted in a most disapproving manner.

Moving on, Dimples announces that the next item is an advantage in the next Immunity Challenge. At home I clapped knowing Theddie (Eddie), whom I've recently welcomed into my elite society of Survivors who don't suck, will abstholutely bid on thisth. Not only did Theddie not even bid on it, but the advantage ended up going for a measly $380 to Cochran! What the hell is going on here?

The next item remains covered and finally, FINALLY, Mowgli gets the lady balls to make a significant bid. When Theddie bids $20, Mowgli strangely bids $300. Hey, at least it's a step in a bidding direction. A nonsensical bid, yes, but at least it's a bid and the bitch has stopped crying. Let's see what she's won!

"A plate of pig brains!"
"We had this in the Food Challenge."
"Ironically, *sniffle* I don't feel like crying." *tears plop all over brains*
"Do you want to try it?"
"It's probably good for you, right? I mean, it is brains after all."
"Hell if I know. That shit is nasty!"
*Mowgli scoops up some brains and eats a bite*
"Oh wait, I just remembered I don't eat pork."
"Sucks to be you."

Next up are letters from home available to anyone who wants them for $20 a letter. Calgon and Freebush immediately crumple into a crying jag since they're all out of money while Golden Boy (also out of money) sits and shrugs his shoulders. Remember way back when in Survivor Philippines when Golden Boy revealed that he had a fluffy little puppy die in his arms and he didn't even cry? Well, if Snowball gasping his last tiny breath didn't make him cry, then a letter from Madeline sure as hell isn't going to make him cry either. The weeping around Golden Boy continues to grow louder and louder as he continues to toss peanuts into the air and catch them with his teeth. When a stray tear lands on his knee, he remarks, "I'm totally sad too. I'm just not going to cry like a little bitch about it." RIP Snowball.

And finally, the last item. It will remain covered and it comes with a twist. Mowgli bids the last of her money, but Theddie ends up nabbing it for an easy $200. Here you go Theddie, a giant bowl of peanut butter. Only, you have to share it with everyone else and you all have 60 seconds to eat it. Whatever peanut butter is left on your person can be taken back with you to Edamame. And so began the Peanut Butter Orgy of 2013. Smearing peanut butter around nipples and nether regions, the cast of Survivor Caramoan erupted into an erotic feast of sticky sweetness. Even Calgon participated!

Back at Edamame, the spent Survivors drag their carcasses into camp and, in what has to be the most disgusting scene in Survivor history, they begin to scrape whatever peanut butter managed to stick to their sweaty unshowered bodies into a hollowed out coconut shell. Mowgli, however, is in the middle of another crying jag so she steals away to read her letter from home. I'll never understand the weeping over letters from home. I love my family, well most of them, more than anything in the world, but I can certainly go 29 days without hearing from them. Besides, a letter from Brother #2 would go something like, "Dude, you're missing that new show Vikings. I'm sure you can Netflix it when you get home. Later." My mother would say something like, "Steal an artifact so I can put it on my mantel next to the pieces of Chichen Itza that I stole." So, yeah, when all the weeping and snot and whatnot is going on I feel a little like Golden Boy did when Snuggles died - I don't care!

While the others are busy wiping their noses and justifying their tears, Dame Reynold, Golden Boy and Freebush have a little meeting unto themselves. The Dame may not have gotten along with Freebush in the past, but it would behoove the both of them to start working together from this point onward. Freebush is number 6 on her alliance's totem pole, but if she works with the Amigos, she can move up to at least number 4. Dame Reynold tells her that if they get Erik to join them, then the new and improved Amigos alliance will have a majority. Freebush pauses to think about it and tells the boys to pull something out of their butts. I think she's talking about a Hidden Immunity Idol, but who knows? She could be a total freak and be talking about some sort of Asian kinky sex fetish beads. It is always the quiet normal looking ones who are the freakiest. Anyhow, the boys decide that Dame Reynold and Theddie will get to work on converting Erik while Golden Boy and his smoldering good looks will concentrate on that freak in the sheets Freebush.

Night falls on Edamame and with the full moon high in the sky and the Survivors sleeping soundly in their beds, Golden Boy uses this opportunity to go hunting for the Hidden Immunity Idol. The clue said to head towards the water, which he interprets as the well, and then to look to the left for the troll under the bridge and then somewhere around there you dig six inches. However, there are two problems with Golden Boy's clandestine plan. 1) Mascaroni is wide awake and watching him and 2) Golden Boy was a little bit tipsy when he saw the clue. What was left could be right and what was water could be tree. I know when I've slurped back a few too many tumblers of gin, I can't remember where the phone number tucked in my bra came from let alone my own name so the odds of Golden Boy actually finding the Idol are pretty slim.

Dusk arrives and Golden Boy still hasn't found the Idol. To make matters worse, here comes Cochran and Mascaroni being all annoying and clingy. Mascaroni actually plops herself on top of the well while Cochran gets bored and does the tinkle dance before excusing himself to go to the loo. Mascaroni is the wingman you never wanted. She's the cock blocker ruining all your potential hook ups. She drinks club soda in a bar and keeps her antennae on the lookout for drunk girls approached by unsavory men. Basically, she's a total nightmare. She refuses to leave her spot on the well while Golden Boy refuses to dig for the Idol in front of her. Eventually, the two call a truce and both return to camp Idol-less.

And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge, you will hold onto a rope connected to some very large beams. Every 5 minutes, you will lower your hands down to another knot. The last person holding on wins Immunity. But, we also have the matter of dealing with Cochran's advantage that he won for a measly $380. At any point in the Challenge, Cochran is allowed to move his hands up 2 knots. Let's face it, that is most ridiculous advantage I've ever heard of. Last season, the lovely Shakira (Abi-Maria) was merely propelled into the final heat with her advantage. She still competed on the same level and had to complete the obstacle course just like everyone else. This moving up of two knots is preposterous. I'm trying not to use profanity anymore in my blogs, but it's bullshit! Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Survivors ready, bullshit.

Rather than go through every second of this bullshit Challenge, I'll wrap this up very quickly. On round 3, Cochran moves his hands back up to the top which means that by the time everyone is, literally, at the ends of their ropes, Cochran is comfortably nestled in Easy Town. One by one Survivors begin to let go of their ropes and we are left with Theddie and Cochran. Theddie's muscles are pulsating and trembling while Cochran yawns and continues to hang onto to his piddly 10 pounds of weight. Obviously, Theddie drops and obviously Cochran wins Immunity. Obviously! I'm not giving him any capital letters because it was a bullshit win in a bullshit Challenge and I think it was all completely unfair.

Back at camp, Cochran is actually gloating. Gloating! He now thinks that he is the winningest Survivor of Survivor Caramoan which we all know is bullshit. I'll give him that Food Challenge that he won. He kicked ass in that and did very well, but a win by a ridiculously unfair advantage that is so far out of the realm of reality doesn't count. I'm sorry, but it doesn't. Had he won by competing at the same level as everyone else, then it would count and he would have a right to gloat. Until then, pipe down you spindly fop.

Unfortunately, things aren't looking peachy keen for the Amigos unless they can get Freebush and Erik to flip. Golden Boy confesses to his comrades that he is extremely nervous right about now. And oh the irony of it all. When he didn't have any clues for Idols, he managed to find 2. But now that he has a clue, he can't even find 1. Oh the humanity! If he can't actually find the Idol, then he has to do his best to make everyone believe he has it. That way if the Favorites split the votes at Tribal and the Amigos manage to reel in Freebush and Erik, then they can get rid of Mascaroni once and for all. It certainly won't be easy, but it is definitely not impossible.

Golden Boy begins his plan of bluffery by approaching Freebush. In addition to telling her that he has the Hidden Immunity Idol, he tells her that he wants to work with her until the very end. Those pesky Faovorites will have to split the votes which gives the Amigos and whomever joins them a lovely and shiny advantage over everyone else. Freebush nods and tells Golden Boy that he'll have to dump one of his buddies sooner or later. Golden Boy is totally fine with that! Obviously, he's going to tell her anything she wants to hear. Freebush then asks Golden Boy who they are targeting this week. Golden Boy says Mascaroni. Freebush takes this new information she has gathered and ruminates on it for a spell. The Amigos win Challenges so it might be in her best interest to side with an alliance that actually has the brawn to protect her. Homegirl knows there is no way in hell she can ever win a challenge on her own, let alone complete one.

(Psycho, 1960)

Meanwhile, Dame Reynold is hard at work wooing Erik. They discuss how the Favorites will most likely split the votes to which Erik replies, "Oh! But if I vote with you, we'll have 4 votes. Done deal!" Well, the poodle can add so I guess that's a good thing, but can he follow through? More importantly, can he follow through with Calgon smothering him in motherly guilt? Having spotted Erik talking to the Dame earlier, Calgon looks Erik in the eye with those crazy bugged out orbs of hers and tells him that she's putting all her trust in him. "Look into my eyes, Erik. Look into the pinwheels going round and round. I trust you. You wouldn't want to make mother cry, would you? Mother won't be happy if you let her down. I've put all my trust in you, Norman. You've given mother diarrhea and you know how much mother doesn't care for diarrhea." Yikes. In the end, Erik still isn't sure how he'll vote. *smacks self in head* He'll wait and decide when he's standing next to urn with a Sharpie in his hand.

While Erik is off tie dying his bed linens, the Favorites have a pow-wow to decide exactly how the vote will go tonight. The girls will vote for Dame Reynold while the men will vote for Golden Boy. For all intents and purposes, I think they're counting Freebush is a man. But then Calgon and Cochran begin to wonder if they should even split the votes at all. Why don't they just all vote for Golden Boy and that'll be that? *gasps* Mascaroni doesn't like that idea one bit. She's pretty sure Golden Boy has the Idol plus, and I quote, "Me, me, me, I, I, I, me, me, me, me." She's doing that thing again where she tells everyone that she is a giant threat and it is only natural for everyone to want to vote her out. If the Favorites all vote for Golden Boy and he ends up with the Idol, then Mascaroni could go home. I don't know about you, but that sounds like heaven to me.

So, the big questions are Freebush and Erik. How will they vote? Both are wishy washy and kind of dim so who the hell knows. The best part is that both of these nitwits actually think they're running the game. Better still, Freebush wants everyone to realize the massive power she now has in her hands. Honey Boo Boo Child, you have no power. If you vote with the boys, one of them could take you to the final 3 where you will magnificently lose with zero Jury votes. If you vote with the Favorites, they'll either get rid of you as soon as the boys are gone OR a couple of them might take you to the end where, again, you will magnificently lose with zero Jury votes. YOU HAVE NO POWER. You are a piece of dead weight that the others keep around to improve their own game.

And this brings us to Tribal Council. My heart is already in my throat as the music thumps and the fire pit burns brightly. Dimples begins by asking Dame Reynold how the last Tribal Council affected things around camp. The Dame rises and looks in the direction of the moon. Tonight he will be performing from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Everyone, shhh.

"To show our simple skill. That is the true beginning of our end."

Umm okayyy. It is not as chipper as I would have preferred, but the Dame, like myself, is moved by inspiration and who am I to question inspiration? What I think he was trying to say is that with that clown Phillip gone, the tribe is encountering a new beginning. Anything can happen now. The world is their oyster bar. 6 on 3 no longer exists! It could 2 on 18 or 7 on 9 or 4 on 300! And then he clapped and giggled while Kenya Moore-ing his fan in the direction of Phillip. Take that!

Dimples then asks Mascaroni what she thinks about the Dame saying that the game is no longer 6 on 3. Mascaroni replies that while it is nerve wracking, it would be extremely dumb for someone to flip right now as it would mean the end of their game. And then she goes on to say that the three boys will continue to dominate all the Challenges and, not only that, but they'll use and abuse you. *raises hand* Umm, where do I sign up for that? I was, you know, just wondering. Carry on.

The shift turns to Freebush and how she is probably the lowest of the low amongst the Favorites. Freebush admits that this fact has crossed her mind which visibly upsets Mother, I mean, Calgon. Calgon turns to Freebush and says, "Freebush, you make Mother very sad when you say things like that. You're not on the bottom at all, Norman. In fact, you're my favorite among Favorites. Now, be a good little lamb, and sharpen my knife collection." I'm telling you, Calgon is beginning to scare the crap out of me.

Finally, we get to Golden Boy. Dimples asks him how it went with the information he bought at the Auction. Golden Boy admits that while it was helpful there are way too many blasted Nosy Parker's at camp. Mascaroni then smiles very pleased with herself before finally admitting that she is about 80% sure that Golden Boy has the Idol. Now it's time for Golden Boy to look very pleased with himself. Do your thang, Golden Boy.

Speaking of Idols, Calgon doesn't care for them one bit. They make Mother overcome with bloodlust. Meanwhile, Erik says that if changes in alliances are going to be made, now would be the time to trade up. Does that mean he's voting for Golden Boy or not? That's all I care about right now!

Alright, it's time to vote. If anyone has the Hidden Immunity Idol, play it now or make Colette Lala cry. No one stirs which makes those brats Mascaroni and Cochran smile. But, BUT, when the votes are read we get a three way tie between Dame Reynold, Golden Boy and Mascaroni. We will now vote again, but Dame Reynold, Golden Boy and Mascaroni cannot vote. I quickly scanned the remaining voting Survivors and a shift occurred in my mood. Unless Freebush and Erik switch now, and they didn't before, then it is curtains for the only goddamn person I'm rooting for! Curtains! Not Dame Reynold red velvet theatre curtains, but the black yucky curtain of the depression that will surely smother me until the end of the season. The curtain that will plop heavily on my head and crush my skull. The curtain that will block the sun from now until the finale.

It's time to revote. MASCARONI, MASCARONI, MASCARONI... Mascaroni is the 12th person voted out of Survivor Caramoan! A little creative visualization never hurt anyone so, what the hell? I'm visualizing that annoying brat stuck at Ponderosa with Phillip funking up the pool with poop water.

But no matter how many times I chant, no matter how many virgins I sacrifice (and I've sacrificed about 16 so far), and no matter how many times I visualize Phillip's poop water, nothing could be done to save the Golden Boy. It is with great sadness (and slit wrists) that I say, Golden Boy is the 12th person voted out of Survivor Caramoan. He's a fan of the blog and a great sport as I mercilessly embarrass him week in and week out so this one really bums me out. On the upside, Golden Boy is well-liked amongst the fans and since CBS seems hell bent on this retuning players thing, I'm confident we could see him again in the future. Best of luck, Golden Boy, and thank you for turning a crappy season into something unforgettable. You will be missed.

So, what did you think of last night's episode? Did Erik and Freebush make the right move sticking with the Favorites? Were you as inconsolable as I was last night? Who the hell do we root for now? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!