Friday, November 29, 2002

Survivor Rehash

Did anyone catch the Wednesday night Survivor midseason special?
Well, I did, and I was happy to be watching it with none other than Cris, the behavioral psychologist who offered some very interesting asides on some of the tribe members.

Could you fucking believe her RuPaul Super Model of the World Vogue faux photo shoot posing? I mean, come on, she's not hideous but she's got an ego to match all that wobbling junk in her trunk.
Beware anyone who says, "I know I'm hot" to a camera that will feed that message out to millions. What gall.
All she had to do was cut her eyes to the rest of the tribe while she was vamping to see her sashay/chante´act was making them cringe. Diva, my ass.
Poor dumb, horny Ted. He took the bait and she charmed his man cobra like Schehera-fuckin-zade. All I can say is, prick teasing is bad. Bitching about it later is bad, too. Soliciting an apology and accepting it, then turning on the apologee is worse than bad. It's treacherous. And so it was.
Adios, diva, and don't let the door hit that bodacious ass on the way out.
Dude, you've had maybe 400 calories in the last 18 weeks, why do you look like you're still Mac'n?
Antisocial personality disorder, according to the shrink. Anger management problems. Intense immaturity. Another one whose assessment of himself exceeded his actual assets. Skateboard to the head. Repeat until patient is sedated. Sent him home. Good.
Clay the ASSMAN. The toady little ferret also turned out to be a leering ass watcher. He likes Erin's ass. He likes Brian's ass. He likes elephant ass. Hell, Jan better be careful or he'll glom on to her saggy ass.
Poor guy. All that rubbin' fox pee and deer spoor on his boots to draw a bead on a 20 point buck apparently clogged up his brain's ability to sense when he's grossing people out. His fellow tribespeople aren't the huntin' fer meat types. Jan likes her squirrel already shot and Clay is a crawdaddy man hisself.
Helen's just gotta win. Please.

No comments: