The Penguin Who Won't Stop Whining

There once was a girl named Megan. She was a lively girl with a vivid imagination who dreamt of being a filmmaker ever since she was a small child. Her dad had gotten her a plastic Playskool camcorder one Christmas and her stop motion Barbie films were legendary at family reunions. It was when Megan got to high school and saw that movie Thirteen that her Barbie flicks got a little "questionable" in subject and went underground. Megan was really into Seattle grunge rock at the time so her Barbie was a major heroin addict who passed out a lot under bridges and traded sexual favors for smack. They were poignant funny films that helped her get all the way to UCLA Film School. She looooved being in the film program. She wore a lot of black and hung out in coffee shops planning Fritz Lang film festivals with her equally arty friends. She smoked clove cigarettes, made out with androgynous boys, and dreamt of being the next female Godard. She wanted to bring French New Wave to America and tell studio heads to "shove it" if they ever dared to tweak her scripts. She saw The Player -every film student saw The Player... that opening tracking shot alone *drool* - so she knew how Hollywood could take something smart and innovative and turn into something fluffy and crappy. Megan (like Homie) wasn't gonna play that. She was going to be a trendsetter, a provacateur.

Graduation came and went and film jobs were few and far between. The only gigs she could get were as a Production Assistant on ambitious underbudgeted Independent films where she was essentially a slave and made only a $40/week stipend or as a coffee girl on lame TV shows... not even Network shows - just some one season basic cable crap. She thought of heading to New York where the film scene was slightly more cerebral, but New York City was expensive - a hell of a lot more expensive than L.A.. So, Megan decicded to bide her time in the mean streets of beautiful downtown Burbank while she saved up for her big move to the elitist East Coast.

Then came the summer of 2010. There was an opening for an Assistant on the Set Production team for the reality show Big Brother. She'd seen the show before and thought it actually might be fun to help construct sets for the competitions. She took a Stage Construction class at UCLA so she knew her way around a drill and a buzz saw. Besides, it paid well and could help her get to NYC. Her first weeks on set were exciting. Her team would work into the wee morning hours painstakingly constructing complicated and labor intensive gigantic competition sets. She loved watching the CBS shows and seeing the HG's swing from a rope she'd hung or race along an obstacle course she'd spent days putting together. For the first time in her fledging film career Megan began to feel a sense of pride. She was a part of something. She belonged.

Around Week 3 Megan began to notice something on the CBS shows that caused her great distress. The HG's were actually THROWING COMPETITIONS and making all her hard work seem insignificant. It was infuriating especially since she was exhausted, dirty, and now missing a thumbnail due to an unfortunate spinning paint can accident. How dare those selfish assholes turn 48 hours of manual labor into 35 minutes of phoniness! She'd inhaled enough sawdust to give her the black lung. Her thighs were so bruised she could never wear shorts lest people think she was a battered girlfriend. Just last week her lesbian best friend, Babs, lost her arm in a horrible chain saw accident while constructing the booths for the trivia contest. Watching Matt grab his crotch, wink, and give a thumbs up to the audience while he purposely gave the wrong answer was like someone jumping up and down on Babs' mutilated and mangled tattooed arm. So when Megan arrived to set bright and early this weekend and heard Prodcuction talking about how Matt might go home, Megan smiled. She smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. Sure, everyone could see where the giant paintbrush has knocked out her incisor tooth, but she didn't care. Someone was gonna pay for Babs' arm and that someone was that overly cocky selfish asshole Matt. Let's recap, shall we?

I'm gonna start where all the drama started - the POV competition. This POV comp was so multi-faceted that people are still debating over exactly who won what. Here's what we know: Lane won a phone call home, Enzo got a penguin suit for a week, Hayden won $5000, Matt or Hayden won a trip to Hawaii, Brendon is on slop until the end of the season, Britney has to be handcuffed to Brendon for 24 hours, Brendon had to shave his head, and Brendon has to take a chum bath every 24 hours. The debate is over exactly what Matt and Hayden won. For some reason, Britney wasn't able to watch all of the competition and some Bra-gade members might be lying to her over who won what. I've heard that Hayden has won both the money and the trip and that Matt has won both the money and the trip. I think it's safe to say that Hayden won something and Matt won something. There's no way Matt walked out of that comp with nothing - either good or bad.

Another big question is whether or not Matt threw the POV. Matt fans on Twitter (the bullies of the #BB12 hashtag) are quick to jump to their tiny love interest's defense claiming we have no idea whether or not he threw it. Listen up chunky monkeys, Britney herself said that she was pissed off that only she, Brendon, and Enzo were the ones fighting for POV and not for prizes. That's proof enough that your golden boy Matt and his giant ego threw yet another comp. I don't like when anyone throws comps. It angers me and makes Endurance challenges boring as all get out. Yes, Matt has won Endurance comps in the past, but the only reason he won those comps is because Ragan let him win them. We have yet to witness a bona fide Endurance comp with two people truly duking it out to the end. What happened to the Endurance comps of yesteryear? Comps that took hours and hours to play with HG's contorted in strange positions and pissing themselves because they refused to give up and use a toilet. I'm not an Evil Dick fan by any means, but the BB8 Endurance comps were nothing short of awesome. I want them back dammit! I want to stay up until 5 AM (EST) watching HG's shivering in cold and crying from pain.

Alright, enough of my bitching. After the POV comp Britney was upset and crying. Hell, if I had to be chained up to Bitch Boy for even 5 minutes I'd be crying my eyes out and punching inanimated objects so, yes, I completely understood her pain and hold nothing against her. At the same time, I think we all knew Brendon was gonna win this comp. I was anticipating it and I was ok with it becuase I thought that maybe Enzo would go home instead. Little did I know that Lane and the Bra-gade has it in their heads that Matt is not only a weasle, but is also the Sabateur. Their logic is that Matt had 2 weeks to use the DPOV which is also the 2 weeks Mr. Salvatore did all his damage. Put 2 and 2 together and voila! Matt is now the Saboteur. So, the Bra-gade is working overtime convincing Britney that Matt needs to go on the block and Ragan needs to go next week. Britney is scared to death she'll be the one to go home next week. Lane tells her sure she'll be going on the block, but Ragan will be going home. She asks what happens if Ragan wins the POV. Lane gets quiet and says, "Oh umm we haven't thought that far yet." As much as dislike Matt and don't give two shits if he goes home, I think it's in Britney's best interest to put up a Bra-gade member and just go ahead and get Enzo out this week. Let's let the curse of the costume live on.

I don't entirely blame the Bra-gade for getting into Britney's head so fast and so furious. Matt and Ragan had hours before Britney was to be handcuffed to Brendon and how do you suppose they spent those hours? Ragan tried to nap and Matt lied around with his hoody wide open and his hand down his pants. They knew something was up. They knew something stank in suburbia. Instead, they wasted precious hours being overly confident and not doing a damn thing. Ragan had reason to feel midly safe so I don't blame him as much I blame Matt. Britney had spent time crying with Ragan over what good friends they were, so chances are he was gonna be safe this week no matter what. Matt, on the other hand, not only threw HOH and most likely the POV, but he also sat around doing nothing when he should have been strategizing. Napolean was exiled to Elba. Can we please send Matt to a remote island in the South Pacific? Specifically one with head hunters and cannibals. Hell, I'd even settle for a leper colony at this point. This cocky nongenius needs to get his due and if it's in the form of angry Melorheotosis patients then so be it. I'm envisioning an angry mob of brittle people with canes, wheelchairs, and IV's banging angrily on Matt's windows. It'll kind of be like that seen in the Thriller video where the zombies break into the house and surround MJ and the chick. If a Melorheotosis choreographed dance followed this invasion, it'll be even better. We'll get Michael Peters to do it and the patients can clink canes in the air or some shit like that. Is John Landis still alive? It could be like a We Are The World thing only it won't feed Ethiopians or shelter Haitians, it'll get Boniva for a bunch of broken hospital patients. I'm predicting a number one hit.

OK so this brings me to BBAD which I'm watching as I type this. Britney and Brendon are handcuffed together and I really have to hand it to them. They're both laughing at their circumstance and working together to make the best of an unfortunate situation. Britney is helping Brendon by being more than accomodating with her HOH room. She stands next to him as he does his chumb bath with nary a complaint to be heard. Brendon, too, has impressed me. Yes, I hate him and I hope he gets a horrible case of Mange from his harlot, but he's doing his chum bath like a trooper and with a smile on his face. I can't fault him for that - not at all. I'm actually finding the other HG's to be much more despicable than Brendon right about now. The bell dinged for Brendon to take his chum bath and he announces, "Here I go! Chum bath #1!" Not one person got up to go watch him. Not one person cheered him on or even stood by to laugh. Instead they stayed put in their lazy supine positions and mumbled, "Yeah whatever." Remember when Zach in BB8 had to do his hourly shower thing (I can't remember what is was specifically)? Everyone came out and laughed and high fived when he did it the first time. There was support and they made it something fun. This lame ass crew is so self absorbed they're not even pretending to make an effort. I don't know why, but I really found it to be disappointing. Kudos to Britney and Brendon for making the best out of a shitty situation. I'm taking a swig of gin (one for me) and spilling a little bit on the ground for you (and one for my homies). Respect. *flashes gang sign*

Meanwhile, Enzo is off in some corner bitching about being in a penguin suit. Are you shitting me? Are you seriously fucking shitting me?! Bitch Boy is covered in dead fish and Britney has to wake up every hour to get splattered with chum and you're complaining about wearing a roomy costume with a bowtie? Unbelievable. I'm gonna say something I never thought would escape my lips: I like Brendon more than Enzo. How's that for a turn of events? The guy shaved his head and has to eat slop for 3 weeks! Enzo is dressed up like a penguin from the Madagascar movies. No comparison. The nerve he has to bitch about something like that. Furthermore, I heard he had the chance to shave his head, but turned it down. Dude, you have NO hair anyways! Shaving your head not only would have been cool, but might have actually improved your appearance. If a Britney/Brendon alliance comes from this, I wouldn't hate it. I could almost be satisfied with it because at least we know these two will never throw a comp.

Let's see, what else, what else? Oh! Britney opened Pandora's Box and got an hour of "advice" from Jessie while the other HG's got a Luau in the backyard. According to Britney, all Jessie talked about was himself and weightlifting. I'm surprised he didn't talk about his secret phone conversations with the married Ragamuffin. All I know is there were a bunch of angry former HG's last night. I keep in touch with quite a few and the only reason I knew Jessie was in the house in the first place was from the texts I got. Too funny. I feel your pain guys, but I honestly think Alison Grodner must be fucking him or something. I mean, why else would she keep bringing him back? I can picture it now. AG in her Spanish style brick home in the Hollywood Hills wearing nothing but a see through negligee while lighting the Pottery Barn candles in her living room. Her curly hair hangs wild down her back while her thighs sensually rub together. Jessie wearing aqua and yellow polka dotted spandex pants rings the doorbell and prepares himself for the night ahead. It's kinda like when Eddie Murphy had to sleep with Eartha Kitt in Boomerang. Jessie wonders if AG's bedroom can maybe get just a tiny bit darker. He's already blown out all the candles, but the moon - that damn moon! - keeps shining into her bedroom and right onto the bed. AG croons, "Hey Mr. Pectacular, how'd you like to go back into the BB house?" Jessie says yes, sighs, slides off his spandex, and begins to make sweet love to our Executive Producer. When AG squeals, the coyotes outside squeal with her. Never has Jessie hated the moon more.

So, what do you think about the big POV? Can Enzo be anymore of a baby? Do you have any respect for Bitch Boy now? Are you happy that Grodner can no longer get pregnant? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!