Thursday, March 29, 2012
A tropical island paradise once so ripe with promise, so thick with what could be, has amounted to nothing more than a squirt in the night. A poot on the wind. A dollop in our shorts. After 96 seasons in Samoa, the air is no longer pregnant with possibilities. The formerly thick, sweet, and fragrant atmosphere of this Polynesian utopia is now an arid wasteland of tumbleweeds and fecal matter. The wind blows and with it, the last remnants of life. We've squeezed out all we can from this Shangri-La. The nectar is gone. The juice is all dried up. However, it is a wonderful place to visit if you're in the market for some new breasts. I can't promise that you won't have big toes for nipples or areolae for eyes when all is said and done. It's a toss of the dice how you'll emerge, but the prices are competitive and you get to recuperate on a beach so I guess that's something. Occasionally the good doctor smells a teeny bit like doody and refers to your breasts as "those things right there", but just go with it. Getting into an argument will only delay things and, trust me, the sooner he whacks you over the head with a coconut (anesthesia), the sooner you'll get to wake up with your brand new perky crab claw chesticles. You may never wear sheer camisoles again, but you'll get a bargain and that's all that really matters. Let's recap, shall we?
We continue our jungle nightmare under the cover of night, of cloudless climes and starry skies. It's a wine and cheese party, bitches! A crisp bubbly Vouvray from the Loire Valley perhaps. Maybe a round of nutty custardy Camembert. Sauvignon blancs, pinot noirs, goat cheeses from Spain, gorgonzolas, those stinky bleus. Oh, who are we kidding? This is a Boone's Farm/Cheese Whiz/Ritz cracker type of soiree. It's a pass the bottle around cheese squirtin' kind of a gathering. When the bottle of Sun Peak Peach reaches Jonas, this Utah resident (Mormon?) politely declines, "I don't drink so someone else can have my sip." Jugs (Alicia), crouching low picking up Ritz crumbs with her saliva soaked fingers, snatches the bottle from the sober Jonas and swigs. Jugs is unsure of her place in this newly united tribe and even more unsure of ChaCha's (Christina) place in it. That Fancy Pants (Colton) really screwed things up for her by taking the Idol home with him and now she needs to decide whether to roll with her homegirls or defect to the penis crowd. Only time will tell which way she swings. Until then, Kat just dropped a grape on the ground and Jugs has some crawling in the dirt to do. Good luck Jugs.
The next day a groggy smattering of homeless looking people sit around the dwindling campfire and wonder aloud what to call their new home. Dumbasstopia? Poolantis? Suddenly, a little man of even littler words mumbles, "Tikiano." It is Leif and he has decided to speak today. "Tiki is God and ano is year." If I may interject for a mo', we have a serious problem. Firstly, año is year not ano. Secondly, ano is anus. From the Proto-Indo-European ano- meaning "ring". A-nus. Butthole. Poop shoot. Rectum. Oh wait, actually that's pretty fitting. Yes, let's name the tribe God Of The Anus. Leif, you are a quiet genius my friend.
With a perfect tribe name and a world of possibility, Jonas is preparing Tikiano a breakfast of lightly caramelized young coconut with a splash of sea water. Kim fidgets awkwardly and giggles to herself, "That's awesome Jonas. I'm excited to have you here." And this brings us to a new nickname. *glitter falls from the sky* An astute reader of this here little bloggy blog has observed that Kim actually comes to Survivor with more than the personality of a bran muffin. She comes to us wearing a thick and lustrous mustache. A fleecy downy display of woolly deliciousness. Therefore, I now erase all remnants of "Kim" and give you "Handlebar". Welcome Handlebar.
With breakfast on the stove and Handlebar twirling her whiskers in anticipation, Jay gets to work on making some coffee. One scoop, two scoops, three scoops... "I only need one scoop Jay," advises Tarzan (Greg). Jay continues ladling in the Arabica and replies, "This is for the people that won it. You didn't win this." Aghast and offended, Tarzan is stunned to hear that a fellow penis person isn't planning on making him a cup o' joe this fine morning. It is here that we discover that Jay was indeed serious about abandoning his former tribe. He has found camaraderie and companionship with the new Salami (Salani) and, as far as he's concerned, any loyalties that existed in the past are no more. To Tarzan this revelation couldn't be more unwelcome. He quickly pulls Michael into the trees and asks, "You wanna be part of the team? You wanna be part of my invisible magical team that includes all of the men and Jugs? It may not exist in the physical world, but it's alive and well in my err... uh, what's it called? Oh let's just call it a noodle for now. You know what I mean. So, you in?" Michael smiles to himself and nods knowing full well that he has no intention of going anywhere, let alone further into this game, with Tarzan.
And this brings us to the big Reward Challenge. For today's challenge the tribe will be split into two teams. On Dimples' go, one member of each team will race through a series of obstacles and dig up a bag of puzzle pieces. Once the teams have collected all four bags, the remaining two tribe members will work together to solve a puzzle. The first tribe to get it right wins a pizza & beer party plus a secret note. Our two tribes are as follows: Jugs, Jay, Sabrina, Prunes (Chelsea), ChaCha, and Troyzan (Troy) competing against Leif, Kat, Michael, Handlebar, Jonas, and Tarzan. Survivors ready, go.
Jay and Leif burst out of the start and into a gated obstacle where the only way through is under. Both begin to dig furiously as Dimples wonders aloud why Leif was sent to initiate the challenge. Seriously, what genius came up with that strategy? Leif is scrappy and tough, but he has the smallest arms and doesn't require that large of a hole to squeeze through. The dude sleeps in a milk crate for crying out loud! Naturally, the bigger stronger Jay gets through first and goes on to retrieve his bag of puzzle pieces while Leif, poor Leif, sits trapped sinking in the quicksand.
Eventually, Leif squirms through, but the other side now has a one person lead. While Prunes, sans chapeau, races back, Handlebar and her gangly limbs are splayed all over the place stuck in the too small hole. At home I scratched my head wondering why they didn't sub Michael in to dig a bigger hole. Anyhow, with sand in her whiskers and time fleeting away, Kim wriggles through while Jugs and her jugs make it through her team's hole fine.
It's when Kat and Sabrina go head to head that the once huge lead narrows. Sabrina sits stuck while crackerjack Kat flies through the obstacle course and makes it back in time for Michael to narrow the gap even more. On her way back to the finish, Sabrina sits stuck again and succeeds in completely losing her tribe's entire lead.
At the puzzle stations we've got Jonas and Tarzan up against ChaCha and Troyzan. Both teams work well together with Jonas doing all the work on one side and ChaCha and Troyzan working in tandem on the other. After fondling and juggling all of his puzzle pieces, Tarzan finally places one in it's correct spot. Dimples remarks, "Tarzan with a piece now." Offended, Tarzan walks over to Dimples and insists that he's placed more than one piece in that puzzle. And does Dimples know that Tarzan can also sew crustaceans together with human limbs? He can and I have the clam shell tits to prove it (hey, I was short on cash!). And so, with Tarzan lecturing on how bivalves work wonders during vaginal rejuvenation, ChaCha and Troyzan pull ahead and ORANGE TRIBE WINS REWARD!!!
At the Reward shack where gooey cheesy pizzas and frosty beers await, an excited Orange tribe enters. The scene is one of merriment and joy as the tribe clicks bottles together happily. Even Jugs and ChaCha are sitting next to each other without incident, without Jugs breaking bottles over ChaCha's head, without shards of glass in ChaCha's eyes. I wonder what's wrong with Jugs...
The conversation is rapid and lively with Sabrina proudly recapping the day's competition. Uh, no offense Sab, but you almost lost it for your tribe. Of all the people in the world happily recounting the challenge, you're kind of the last person who should be talking. Just congratulate everyone on a job well done and then hush up. And now we've got the little matter of the secret note to get to. Unless you're a surgeon who thinks a heart resides in one's knee and the kidneys live in the cheeks while we all pee out of our mouths, then you know that that note is a clue to the Hidden Immunity Idol. As a matter of fact, the losing team should have known that note was a clue as well. While the winners were stuffing their faces, the losers should've been searching high and low for an Idol. That's what I would have done. Me and my bargain basement clam shells.
So, the note is indeed about a new Idol back at camp. Prunes burbles that they should keep it a secret from everyone else. Well smack my ass and tweak my lobster claw nipples, what a novel idea! With little more than an exhale, Prunes tells us with complete disinterest and little signs of life behind her eyes (although, how can we see her eyes with that insufferable hat covering half of her face?), that she is concerned about a Menudo (Manono) finding the Idol. Don't concern yourself with that honey. I'd be more concerned about not falling asleep during your one on one interviews. And I'm not saying this just because the girl told me to kill myself, I'm saying this as a person sick to death of cornflakes screwing up my favorite reality shows. WAKE UP! Pretend you care! Do something! Do anything!
Back at God Of The Anus, Jonas tells Michael they should "get things together". Things? What things? Coconuts? Water? Scalpels? Imodium? Supplies? Thoughts? Michael looks around himself wondering what mysterious things Jonas wants to get together. Jonas mumbles, "Our plans. What our plans are." Shrugging his shoulders, Michael says nonchalantly, "I thought Tarzan already did that." Well smack my ass and pinch my oyster, this is all news to Jonas.
Seconds later Jonas pulls Tarzan aside and reprimands him for telling Michael, the least trustworthy guy on the tribe, any plans whatsoever. Jonas insists that when you reveal stuff to a guy like that, you do it at the last minute not two days before the vote. What if Michael is playing both sides? What if he blabs to the Salamis? Upon hearing this, Tarzan has had about enough of Jonas. In fact, he's had about enough of everything - this tribe, this game, toilets, toilet paper. Tarzan swears on all that is holy - bloodletting and trepanning - that he'll now go forward in this game without his tribe. Alone. Like a nomad. He'll fall on swords and then stitch himself back up using tree bark and the needles from a sea urchin. He'll wander the sands looking for mermaids to give legs to. Oh sure, they'll be frog legs or maybe turtle legs, but they'll be legs dammit.
With Tarzan off mutilating whatever he can get his hands on, Troyzan takes advantage of the afternoon siesta to search for the Hidden Immunity Idol. He pokes inside one tree and then pokes inside another... voila! Idol. I've been watching Survivor for 200 years now and I'm going to go out on a limb and make a wild suggestion: Stop hiding Idols in trees! Stop hiding them in hollowed out hunks of bark. Stop hanging them from branches like Christmas ornaments. Maybe the era of the Idol should be phased out. What say you? Let me know in the comments.
And now we arrive at the Immunity Challenge where Individual Immunity is finally up for grabs. Come on in guys! For today's challenge, Survivors will stand perched on a small log while balancing two balls on a disk. At regular intervals, more balls will be added to the disk. The last person standing with their dick, errr I mean disk, and balls wins immunity.
"So is there a new tribe name?"
"What's it mean?"
Survivors ready, go!
Just as the challenge begins a giant breeze sweeps through the arena. Trees bend heavily while birds get caught in the jet stream and plummet to the earth. When they land, it's a scene out of a 19th century medical laboratory. Parrots with jellyfish bodies. Crows with fins instead of wings. Owls with hollowed out coconuts for eyes. A lone raven chattering its turtle egg teeth. No wonder they were no match for the wind. It's a miracle these distorted unbalanced creatures made it through recovery led alone back up into the sky. All the workings of a lunatic mad scientist hard at work under the cover of the jungle. *shakes head knowingly* That's our Tarzan! *jaunty music plays* Back at the challenge, balls gingerly dance this way and that. It's balltastic.
Perhaps it was the sight of his failed masterpieces or the fact that there was a load in his shorts, but Tarzan is out first. Round 2 begins with two balls and ChaCha bites the dust fairly quickly with Michael right behind her. My favorite moment and photo (Thanks to Rob at Survivor Seasons!) was when Prunes, sad wrinkly uninteresting Prunes, drops her ball. My notes say "haha!" which means my reign as the beacon of maturity continues. Seeing her best good friend drop out didn't do Handlebar any favors either as she, too, plops her balls.
Moving into Round 3 we have Jonas, Troyzan, Leif, Sabrina, Jay, Jugs, and Kat. Everyone knows a Jugs has only two bountiful jugs so, naturally, she drops the third and is out. Plop goes Jay. Plop goes Jonas. Plop goes Sabrina. Plop goes Leif. With only Troyzan and Kat left, I found myself cheering for the KitKat. Standing like a delicious candy cane, bent at the waist yet stoic, Kat stands unflinching while Troyzan wrestles a little with his balls. In the end, I think her perch was her demise as KitKat teeters off to the side and TROYZAN WINS IMMUNITY!!!
Back at Tikiano bitter tribe members congratulate Troyzan on his victory. Troyzan feels good about where he is the game. He's got the Idol, he won Immunity, and he's confident that his old all male alliance is still intact. Prunes, however, has different ideas. She's content with the new Salami and checks in with Jay to make sure they're getting rid of a new Menudo. Jay has decided to get rid of Jonas so he runs it by Sabrina and Handlebar who are seemingly fine with the decision. Meanwhile Jugs worries that no one has approached her yet so she pokes her head in with Handlebar who tells her that the plan is to get rid of Jonas. Happy it's not her name she hears, Jugs bounces off in the distance to gather sand fleas to slip into ChaCha's bed later on tonight.
It's when Handlebar tells Troyzan about the Jonas plan that a problem arises. Troyzan wanted bros before hos! What's this whole voting off a penis person thing?! Unhappy and worried, Troyzan tells a shocked Jonas that his head is on the chopping block. Jonas is all like, "Dude, I'm the least threatening. I'm weak. I'm a follower. I'm not scary. Why me?" He seems very proud of how not strong he is which is a little weird, but his instincts tell him to go into "survival mode". Survival mode in JonasLand means going after the one person no one has any intention of ever going after in the foreseeable future (Michael) followed by making amends to the one person no one can stand (Tarzan). I don't know how life functions day to day in JonasLand, but I'm thinking it's a place where the heat is turned on in the summer and birth control pills are taken after sex.
Anyhow, Jonas apologizes to Tarzan, who's sitting on a log wondering if anyone might want it for a spine, and so moved is Tarzan by the gesture that he begins to cry. Tears. Real tears. Rolling tears with sniffling and the whole bit. In a flash, bygones are bygones and Tarzan is overcome with joy. Pulling Leif and Troyzan into the mix, the four men wonder who to get rid of next and while Jonas is dead set on Michael, they somehow agree to KitKat whom they find to be annoying and lazy. One person's "annoying and lazy" is another person's "rolled in sugary goodness". I can't help it. She's growing on me. Plus, she didn't tell me to kill myself after reading my blog last week where I'm pretty sure I called her a Twizzler or something. There's a lesson there, Prunes.
Speaking of Prunes, she wants do some laundry. Out in the water, she rinses out her shorts while back at camp, Tarzan also wants to do some laundry. Specifically, his panties. Holding them on the end of a long stick he delivers them to Sabrina and says, "It's not poop. It's dirt." At home we all kind of looked up from our gin tumblers and said, "Como what?" And then we wondered in unison why, if there's even the teeniest tiniest chance that someone else is thinking you might have shit your shorts, you didn't rinse them off beforehand to avoid saying things like, "It's not poop. It's dirt." In that moment, my clam shells and oyster started to twitch as I wondered to myself if my plastic surgeon had bothered to wash his hands before operating on me. Well, as long as it's dirt and not poop... I guess I'll be OK. *clam shell falls to the ground*
Prunes returns to camp after rinsing her shorts in the ocean and puts them in the pot to boil when out of nowhere... Splat! That's the sound of Tarzan's doody pants landing right on top of Prunes' jean shorts. Excuse me a second.
Ahahahaha!!! AHAHAHA!!! *spits up gin* Hahahaaaaaa! HA!
Umm so yeah I guess that was rude of Tarzan or whatever. *gin leaks out of nose* Prunes stares at the doody pants in horror while Tarzan assures her that the boiling water will get out all the microbes. He's a doctor. He knows this stuff. Side note: If anyone has ever had Dr. Tarzan operate on them, please please please, I beg you, email me and send me before and after photos. I swear I won't laugh at your puffed pastry lips and pineapple breasts. Cross my heart. I just want to know if the typhoid has caused you to bleed from the eyeballs or grow extra appendages on your back. *dabs eyes and scratches fourth arm*
KitKat giggles while Prunes stomps off in a huff and tells us that she now wants Tarzan out of the game. Her philosophy is that only people with a positive attitude should stay in the game. *snorts at the irony* Hey, Tarzan was pretty positive about that boiling water killing his doody germs. You can't get more positive than that. So the new preachy queen of positivity marches over to Jay and tells him that now she wants to get rid of Tarzan. I'm not sure how Jay became the go-to guy, but it's a good position he's weaseled himself into as everyone seems preoccupied with running all future moves by him before anyone else. Jay pauses to consider this new development and wonders if revamping their plans will bite them in the ass later.
And here we are at Tribal Council where Sabrina describes Tikiano as chaotic and the opposite of peaceful. Jonas, on the other hand, cuts through the shit and gets right down to business. With nary a breath, he announces that he doesn't understand why anyone would vote out a provider this early in the game. He's a little snarky, a little right, a little ballsy. I thought to myself, "Wow Jonas, way to go." And then, and then, that pesky JonasLand mentality made an appearance and Jonas points to Michael, "Do you really want to go into Immunity Challenges against this guy?" *smacks self in head* Ugh, Jo-nas! You were doing so well and then, pardon me, but you went and doodied all over everything. You are not going to get rid of Michael tonight. Fact. So why, for the love of God, why are you bringing him up now when you're fighting for your life?
Jonas continues on and announces to everyone that he'll be voting for Michael tonight. Perhaps you should take up drinking after all Jonas. I mean, why not?!
Tarzan, of course, chimes in and says he doesn't respect Jonas anymore. He thinks perhaps Jonas may have just thrown himself "over" (he said over so I guess he forgot the word "under") the bus unnecessarily. Hmm. DoodyButt may have a point there. Jonas interjects and then announces that their grand master flash plan to get rid of KitKat won't work because they don't have the votes. KitKat opens her mouth in surprise as an army of gummi bears marches out. So according to Jonas' logic, it's impossible to get KitKat out, but possible to get Michael out? *makes 'W' with fingers* Umm, ok.
And with that, Tarzan announces that they should all vote out Jonas. In fact, he declares, with 100% certainty, that he'll be writing down Jonas tonight. Well, pfft! That's it. In a matter of what amounts to mere minutes, Jonas took the wrong fork in the road and completely screwed himself.
In a surprising turn, Prunes pipes up and announces that most of the tribe has issues with Tarzan rather than Jonas. She goes through her whole positivity love and light speech and, in not so many words, calls Tarzan "dead weight". At home I figured that this must mean the new Salamis have decided to vote out Tarzan after all. Why else defend Jonas? Why else ridicule Tarzan? So, I guess Tarzan is going home then, right?
Wrong! After all that preaching, all that pontificating, all that "positivity" b.s., no one votes for Tarzan and Jonas is the 7th person voted out. So, talk to me, what happened there at the end? Prunes defended Jonas, Sabrina agreed, Tarzan invited everyone to vote him out yet Jonas goes home. Had Prunes never butt in and come to Jonas' defense, I wouldn't have been surprised by the vote because I do think Jonas built himself a giant shit sandwich that he couldn't get out of with that left field Michael crap he was peddling.
So, what did you guys think of last night's episode? Were you surprised by the vote? Why did Prunes attack Tarzan when he wasn't getting voting out? Did she just make herself a shiny new enemy? Does anyone have any super glue that works on clam shells and flesh? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!