Conchita had made all the preparations and she was ready to make her poppit. She bought some candles, a packet of pins, a swatch of burlap, and every Gwyneth Paltrow movie she could find on VHS. You see, Gwyneth Paltrow is also a member of the "Worst Person In The World" club and the shredded tape from all of her films would serve as the stuffing for the poppit. Under the dark of night Conchita left Pepe in their bed and snuck out to procure the final ingredients. She snipped the pubic hair off of a red headed homeless person who always peed around the corner of her tortilla stand, cut the lips off of a Mallard, and found a willing Mexican youth to sell her his pimples. She tiptoed back into the tiny cottage and began to get to work. Careful not to wake Pepe she sewed the poppit by hand and watched as it began to take shape. The likeness was mystifying. She gave it square breasts made out of beef bouillon cubes and even used an old moldy cashew she found behind her refrigerator for a nose - the curve of it was just right! Meticulously, she attached the pimples one by one to the chin area. With a grimace on her face and clothespin on her nose, she attached each red pube one by one to the top of the poppit's head. The Mallard lips were the last item to be added. She rinsed off the duck blood and injected each one of the lips with a combination of lard and liquid nitrogen. After several experiments that was the only combo that would give her the exact consistency she was looking for. Finally, the poppit was done!
Conchita peeked in on Pepe to make sure he was still sleeping. She had sprinkled some Belladonna on his enchilada at dinner earlier that evening, but Pepe was a strong man and she wasn't sure if the Belladonna would sedate him. After finding Pepe deep in the Land of Nod, Conchita lit some candles and brought her cauldron to a boil. She wore her best muumuu - the one with the Aztec shapes and the eagle wings on the back - and began a chant so low and so deep that it shook the floorboards and rattled the windows. The heat of the cauldron began filling the tiny house and sweat started to drip down the sides of Conchita's face. The feathers she wore in her hair began to go limp, but she didn't care. She would do whatever it took to rid her only son of the witch who's taken hold of his testicles. The sulfuric acid and pig vomit in the cauldron boiled so rapidly that it seemed to be begging for a sacrifice. Conchita took the hideous poppit she'd created and held it over the stinking concoction. All at once she began to spit and cry and shriek, "Ir al infierno apestosa puta!" She hurled the poppit into the cauldron and watched as the hair, cashew, and duck lips began to mutate and sizzle.
It was done. The stench would linger for days but Conchita knew that she had, once and for all, saved her son from an uncertain future. Rachel Reilly would be nothing but a faint and hideous memory to the Villegas family. Brendon will never find out his mother was responsible for sending Rachel away. He'll think it was something he did or something he said. His depression will cripple him for a few months and his balls may never grow back, but, eventually, he'll make it through and live to swim another day. Let's recap, shall we?
It's POV Ceremony day and the Actor's Workshop is in full effect. Bitch Boy and Hyena Fuckface have prepared their monologues, finalized their blocking, and nailed the last rehearsal. They were ready! Britney delivers her opening lines and gives Bitch Boy the opportunity to speak on his behalf. Bitch Boy stands, clears his throat, and says, "Being a gentlemen I'm going to let milady Hyena speak first." He looks to Rachel for approval and then sits back down. Rachel rises, says, "I AM Vegas!!!", and then collapses into a heap of phony tears. Bitch Boy pats her on the hand and takes his turn to speak. He puts his baseball cap on backwards, just like he saw the cool kids do back in 1996, and says, "Britney, you're a selfish spoiled brat and that's why I want you to use the Veto on me. Thank you." He sits back down and looks very pleased with himself. Britney clenches her fist and, in not so many words, tells Brendon to suck it. She's not going to use the Veto and this Veto meeting is now adjourned.
Hyena Fuckface continues to squench up her face and tries to eek out one tear. None come and the HG's go back to whatever it is they were doing. Britney, livid yet humored at the same time, tries to distance herself as far away from the Gruesome Twosome as she possibly can. Unfortunately for her, Rachel finds her and begins to apologize on Brendon's behalf. Britney knows what Rachel is up to... Christ, the whole fucking house knows what this bitch is up to! She's instructed Brendon to act heinous so he'll go home and she'll stay. The problem is: when you're such a bad actor and your plans are so fucking obvious, the house has no choice but to fuck with you and let you think that you've outsmarted them. So yeah, the house has decided to go ahead and let Rachel think she's staying. It'll make evicting her on Thursday all the more sweet.
Speaking of Thursday, I've just confirmed my glitter delivery and this new batch of gin I'm whipping up will burn the hairs off your arms and curl your toes. Just for shits and giggles, I've added Wormwood. Wormwood is what gives Absinthe it's kick. It's what drove Edgar Allen Poe to the brink of insanity, it's what made Trent Reznor all crazy-like in that video for "The Perfect Drug", and it's what inspired Toulouse-Latrec to paint so provocatively. Actually, I'm thinking of recreating Toulouse-Latrec's signature drink for Thursday. It's 3 parts Absinthe and 3 parts Cognac shaken with ice cubes and served in a large wine goblet. I've got a gold plated Scarface Pimp Cup all ready for the magical elixir. I'm thinking body shots and a pantless clown making balloon animals might also be in order. RSVP in the comments so I know how many mini egg rolls to prepare.
Back in the house Hyena Fuckface is fake crying while Britney just watches in silence. Hyena says she has no control over what Brendon does and she doesn't understand why he said what he did. Boo hoo hoo... she's soooo tortured. Wah wah. Instead of sympathy and understanding, Britney tells Rachel that Brendon must hate women. That's the only explanation. He's the biggest gossip in the house, talks more shit than anyone else, and hates women. That's Brendon in a nutshell. Rachel sniffles quietly to herself, checks to see that Britney is watching her, and mumbles, "Yeah I guess so." Mother Teresa turned over in her grave and a beautiful wild Mustang in a field somewhere in Montana combusted. Spontaneous human combustions are far and few between, but do you have any idea how rare a spontaneous horse combustion is? Dudes, it's like once every 4 thousand years. The last recorded horse combustion is in like Revelations or something. Trippy. Laura better be careful... just sayin'.
This brings me to the "We're Better Than Everyone Else" portion of the day. I don't know what inspired it and I don't know what triggered it - all I know is that it was completely ridiculous and, as a result, Oxford, Webster, and Roget have all updated their "hypocrite" entries to include photos of Brenchel. OK so Bitch Boy and Brenchel are outside and poor Kathy is with them. She was just innocently having a smoke, but Brenchel managed to trap her on the outdoor couch and fill her ears with nonsense. Rachel starts off by saying how she has no idea why people hate her. All she ever did was win stuff. Hold on... I need a drink to recap this. I'm not even gonna bother with a glass. The bucket by the side of the tub will do. *fills bucket with gin and dunks head inside*
OK so Rachel has like no idea why everyone hates her. She's seriously a totally nice person. She's so not like a bitch at all. She and Bitch Boy never talk badly about others. They've just simply fought tooth and nail everyday to stay in the game and is it really their fault that they found love along the way? Like seriously, why does the house hate love so much? They are soooo genuine and so filled with integrity. I mean, they'd never say a bad thing about Kristen. Oh wait, you know Kristen talked shit about Hayden right? She even wants a secret power couple alliance. God, she's such a bitch! So yeah, they never say anything bad about anyone, but like what's the deal with Britney being so rude during that POV meeting? You know she must hate herself and have a horrible relationship with Nick or else she wouldn't keep talking about him all the time. God, she's so miserable. Lane doesn't deserve to be there either. He's lazy and never wins anything, but Rachel and Brendon are sooooo nice not to say anything bad about others. It's like totally clenched that they'll win the Nobel Peace Prize and Publisher's Clearing House. They're seriously, like, flawless.
Kathy sat stoned face while the two creatures from hell went on and on about how nice they were. If you flashback and watch really closely you'll see Kathy begin to put cigarettes out on her own body. She put one out on her eyeball, one inside her ear, and one on the tender part of her inner arm. She didn't blink or even bat an eyelash. I think the two infernal beasts must have had her under some sort of spell or something. I'm not sure.
The rest of the day was pretty lazy with lots of lounging by the pool and talking shit about Brenchel in the HOH. I did manage to catch some noteworthy nuggets though. Nugget #1: Brendon is confused as to why he is breaking out all over his face. Uh, Bitch Boy, it's because you're touching tongues with that festering thing you call a girlfriend. Her zit juices and herpes are having a field day all over your otherwise clear complexion. It's not the chocolate, it's not the olive oil you drink daily... it's Hyena Fuckface and your love. Nugget #2: For some reason Rachel is very interested in the BB Rule Book all of a sudden. She wonders if she'll get in trouble for going through Matt's things and taking his dollar. She, out of nowhere, now thinks that Matt's dollar holds some secret power. Now, we all know that Matt has the Diamond Power Of Veto hidden up his room. If Hyena goes looking for the dollar, she'll surely find it. My question is, what prompted this sudden suspicion on her part? Was it the DR? That's some bullshit if it is.
Forgive me, but there will not be a blog tomorrow. My day is jam packed and although I love each and every one of you from the bottom of my blackened soul, there's no way in hell I'm waking up at 5 am to do a blog.
Also, the lovely Kristen is now on Twitter! I'm thinking everyone should send her some messages @kristen_bitting telling her the Bitchy Big Brother Blog is the place to be.
I'm also going to be writing for a hot new online magazine called The Cake. The title comes from that Hole song that says, "I want to be the girl with the most cake". It hasn't launched yet, but the Twitter @thecakemag and Facebook page just went up and I'd love it if you guys could friend and follow them. The Cake will not affect any of my blogs. It's simply a magazine I'll be doing TV articles for. The Editor In Chief is a fan of my blogs and I'm still a little stunned my crazy rantings actually led to something. Very cool! Next on my list of things to do: Write a bestseller and get Angelina Jolie to play me in the movie version. I'm thinking of giving Conchita a call... her spells are magic!
So, do you think Conchita's poppit worked? Will she ever get the stench out of the upholstery? Will Hyena be sainted for all her good deeds? Will Bitch Boy cry on Thursday? Do you guys want noisemakers or fireworks for Thursday's party? Comment it out bitches and have a great day! I'll be back on Thursday.