22 September 2006



Before launching into an ethically-relevant tangent on this week's episode, I'd like to address two points from my last blog:

1) It's been pointed out to me that "Honky" is not spelled with an "e" before the "y". I have confirmed this via The Internets (TM). First, two things: I guess I had never seen "honky" typed out before, and I can't believe there's an English standard for "honky".

Nevertheless, the Black Folks will continue to be called TEAM ANTI-HONKEY, because, as we well know, "those people" can't spell. So what difference does it make?

2) Someone sent me an email to tell me that TEAM WHITEBREAD wasn't racist enough for my blog, especially considering the names I gave to other tribes. Upon review this seems to me to be entirely correct; I want to offend my people as equally as I offend all of "you people".

As such, TEAM WHITEBREAD will now be known as TEAM TRAILER PARK (because TEAM FUTURE SEX OFFENDER just didn't roll off the tongue/keyboard very well...and sounded too much like an awesome robotic superhero).

Onto the Episode II recap...


--Still stewing after their first Immunity Challenge loss (but not over the loss of Sekou, really), Team Anti-Honkey heads back to their camp a little dejected, but with flint and metal to start a fire. It takes them roughly the length of an average Middle Passage to get it burning. Which begs the question...how is this possible?

You've got your flint, you've got your steel, you've got your kindling...and it takes you a day and a half to procure but one small flame? Yet, ten minutes after the NBA Finals concludes, you manage to set the nearest city on fire like it's f*cking Bastille Day. With nothing but a few empty Bic lighters and a warm case of Colt 45.

Someone explain this to me.

--Over at Team Tortilla, Cristina tries to tell everyone that was shot several times in the arm because she's a "cop".

And she may be a cop - though, I mean...c'mon, let's not get carried away here - but you know you were all thinking something WAY different when she was talking about being shot. I don't think I even have to say it.

But I will: "Cholo floozy!" Oh, aren't those Latinas bonitas ALWAYS standing around gabbing at drive-by primetime? Dios mio.

In an ongoing saga, Billy does nothing but lay around, expertly attempting to become the first SURVIVOR Castaway to gain weight on the show, and Cristina develops an ever-growing chip on her shoulder at Ozzy. How DARE that b*stard know how to do things and help out the entire team! I wouldn't trust that sonsab*tch either, Cristina. If I were you I would just watch him work, have fifteen babies and get a bad perm.

--In a turn of events that should come as no surprise, Yul builds Team Confucius a trap that catches THREE F*CKING CHICKENS AT THE SAME TIME. Jesus! He used a box and a coconut and a f*cking stick! Seriously, how dumb do these little jackals make you feel?

Think about this question as an American: is there ANY logical reason you can think of to NOT elect an Asian President? Any Asian. Or, OK, any Asian not associated with the Yakuza. Seriously, any reason? Think about the advantages: we'd kick other countries' asses in all academic fields; we'd rule the world with a quiet yet intimidating confidence; the chances of a nunchaku attack on the Queen of England skyrocket; our finances would be through the roof; perhaps most importantly, the President has his own personal driver, meaning there's one less Automotive Nuclear Disaster (TM) driving our streets.

Wait...no, this one is more important: every red-blooded American male of any other ethnicity can come home from the worst day of his life and rest comfortably, smiling, knowing that, at the very least, he has a bigger c*ck than the leader of the Free World.

Someone tell me I'm wrong.

--Meanwhile, Team Trailer Park argues what structure to sleep on and whether or not building it makes any sense. This riveting banter makes a three-minute scene feel like Moses' trek up Sinai and sends White people everywhere into self-conscious fits of, "Are we really all this f*cking boring?"

Minority friends: if I'm that base and vanilla...I mean, you would tell me, right? I'm starting to feel like the party starts only when we leave the room. Am I this droll? I'm starting to freak out. Holy sh*t, we gave the world CARROT TOP! Hey, I know, let's fight over wet sand and f*cking palm fronds. Good call, you pouting, self-loathing Casperites. God, I'm worried. I would so much rather be Red Foxx than Milton Berle. Someone want to trade with me?

Side Note #1: Jessica (Flicka) is f*cking turning me on. She's cute, she rocks the pigtails, and she's wearing g*ddamn thigh-highs all over the island. That's it, I tap out; she can have me.

Side Note #2: After getting in a totally p*ssified man-squabble with Adam that should have seen both parties donning white wigs and b*tch-slapping each other with prissy white gloves, Jonathan goes skulking down the beach to write the shortest book of all time: NEGROES I'VE MET WHILE YACHTING.

Onto the Immunity Challenge...


--Each team is given a clue to the challenge that involves a cryptic note and a set of shackles.

(Wait for it...)

(Wait for it...)

BLACK PEOPLE HATE SHACKLES BECAUSE THEY WERE SLAVES!!!! After writing this episode, did the Producers just take the script over to Rosa Parks's grave, drop it on the ground, and piss on it while singing OLD MAN RIVER? HOLY GOD!!!!!!!!

(Sorry, I tried to be much more diplomatic than that. I'll try to control myse...)


(F*CK! I don't know where that came from.)

--Team Tortilla gets together before the challenge and decides that they're going to throw it so they can get Billy off their team. Everyone but - amazingly - Cristina, is onboard. What a peach, that one. But the team has the right idea. Ah, duping the fat Latino and then booting him off the show - what we're now retroactively calling the Lorne Michaels Secret Handshake (TM).

(EDITOR'S NOTE: Don't you EVER use the term "the Lorne Michaels Secret Handshake" in that context and not give me credit because that is f*cking GENIUS and I shall reap the rewards for it as such. Mark my words. GOD I am high on myself right now. If you don't know why this is funny, try to guess which castmember will be missing from SNL this season. I can't believe I just had to explain that to you. You make me sick.)

--The Immunity Challenge is a toweringly boring combination of fitting into (and through) cramped spaces and memorizing some bullsh*t about Captain Cook, whom no one has cared about ever. The entire explanation of the event is a protracted segue to an eventuality that can be summed up in one simple phrase: "The Asians are going to f*cking destroy the rest of you."

Incredibly, the Asians f*cking destroy the rest of them. Actually that's not entirely correct; Trailer Park technically "ties" Confucius, but you could tell the cat-eaters were in cruise control the whole way. Meanwhile, Team Tortilla doesn't even TRY to make it look like they're not throwing the competition, and Anti-Honkey still just barely beats them...and then celebrates like it's 1804 and they've made it to the North. Team Trailer Park scratches their collective heads, wondering why Accounting degrees don't translate into raw athleticism.

But the most important facet of the event comes as it ends and Billy looks over at the Trailer Parkers, announcing, "I'm next." Trying to console him, Candice replies, "Well...we love you!"

To which Billy, stunned into submission, barely eeks out, "I love you," then proceeds to suck in his neck and smile sinisterly like a White guy who lives in a van with no windows and just fingerbanged his daughter. And liked it.

--The Tortillas vote Confucius' Yul to Exile Island. Yul shows up on EI, looks around for four minutes, consults a portrait of Mr. Miyagi and immediately finds the Hidden Immunity Idol.

Christ, these guys are phenomenal at g*ddamned everything. The other Tribes are so f*cked right now it's not even funny. We might be changing Team Confucius' name next week to Team Foregone Conclusion.

Onto the Tribal Council...


--Back at camp, Billy makes an ill-advised attempt to sway the votes of Cristina and Cece; it doesn't work and he's voted off. But that's not the story.

OK, OK, so...remember the thing from before where I told you that Candice told Billy, "We love you," ("We" being the operative word there) and Billy said, "I love you," back? Well, forget f*cking everything else about this episode, because this is the sh*t right here:

In an fit of unbelievable miscommunication and irresponsible assumption bordering on pure, unbridled lunacy, Billy believes that he and Candice sweetly spoke Those Three Words (TM) to each other. He announces that he's OK with leaving because his reward for being on the show was that he made "a love connection" with Candice. HE BELIEVES THAT SHE WAS TELLING HIM SHE WAS IN LOVE WITH HIM. In his own mongrel, misbegotten - out of NOWHERE! - words:

"My prize wasn't even the million dollars. My prize was that I fell..I...I...I fell...I fehh...I fell in love in this game. Love at first sight. Her name is Candice...that was my prize. My prize was her."

Dead, spinning shock from everyone on the panel, including Probst, who nearly falls off his log. The look on his face is the same as it must have been when the doctor told him that he contracted The Herpes from Jeri Ryan, except with WAY more surprise this time.

For those of you who don't watch the show, please understand this: these Tribes don't spend any time with each other. Any. Time. They're together for about 20 minutes every three days for the Immunity Challenge, and even then they're communicating almost solely with their own team. This is important to consider because this proves that Billy, while not only being lazy and moody, has totally lost his f*cking mind. He took a forced, manufactured, barely-meant-it overture from someone he didn't know at all and assumed she was in love with him.

MOTHERF*CK! What a way to end the show, man. I don't even need to make a racial joke here. Perhaps that's what we've learned this week: sticks and stones may break our bones, but f*cking crazy people trump racial profiling.



FIRST PLACE - Team Confucius. Nowhere to go but down, and yet they'll probably design something to take them higher. I fear them and their bird flu.
SECOND PLACE - Team Trailer Park. Being in second means nothing; everyone is now vying for "First Loser" Status (TM). What a pathetic bunch. Dumb, feeble and boring; that 401K doesn't mean sh*t out in the wild, does it, you maladjusted pr*cks?
THIRD PLACE - Team Anti-Honkey. Eventually it's going to come out that the Producers intentionally gave them the worst team in SURVIVOR history, leading to something we're all waiting patiently to see unfold: the battle over Reality TV Reparations.
FOURTH PLACE - Team Tortilla. This whole Billy thing is going to drag them down like property values in the barrio. Can Ozzy save them?

Tune in next Friday when we'll be debuting a new weekly feature: The Pointless Ramblings of Dave "Evil Ways" Neustadter, Racist Half-Jew.

Until then...tally-ho.