Saturday, August 28, 2010

The Celestine Curse

Trolls, gremlins, rodents, douchebags... these are things that mess up Happy Land. Happy Land is a big dewy meadow located west of Hidden Valley (you know, the place with the ranch dressing). It's filled with wildflowers, butterflies, poppies, and precious fawns leaping over strategically placed stones and tree trunks. It's a magical place where all the mythological creatures of lore hang out and party. On a typical day in Happy Land, it's completely normal to go down to the stream filled with vodka and maybe pass a unicorn nibbling on grass or Dionysis feeding himself grapes. At the crystal waterfall, mermaids help the valkyries bathe while a dragon heats up the night's meal. It truly is a "happily ever after". For the past 85 weeks (yes, it feels that long), Happy Land has had a giant black cloud over it. With that cloud came evil grotesque beings who stunk up the place and made the satyrs not want to play their pipe flutes. Normally, the satyrs would play, the nymphs would dance, and an orgiastic celebration of nature would ensue. Summer in Happy Land should be a fun time. It should be glitter and fairies and giggling and marshmallows. Instead it was balls and boasting and sweaty crotches and giant neander-talls. Thankfully though, the madness is over and the annoying are gone. Matt had squeezed all the power he could out of his teeny tiny testicles and Brendon had whined his last exhausting whine. The brook began to babble again and a rainbow started to leak Skittles. Happy Land is almost back to normal. Let's recap, shall we?

Sorry about yesterday. I just didn't have too much to say and the thought of trying to force something out was exhausting. Yes, I'm thrilled with how Thursday played out. Ragan stepped up to the plate and I clapped and giggled like a "special" child watching a ball bounce. Matt was douchetastic as he sat hunched over on that couch and threw fist pump after fist pump into the air. Dude, you're not DMX. You're not Eminem. You're a tiny little delusional man child who's not the least bit cool. If you look at the Coolness Chart you'll see Matt ranked somewhere near Jon Gosselin and that guy who played Potsie on Happy Days. Brendon wasn't much better. He started out nice and normal and then he'd say something completely ridiculous having to do with Rachel and all normalcy would fly out the window. So yeah, I'm glad they're both gone. I was about sick of them anyways.

Lane is now HOH and all I can think is "What took you so long?". I'm not impressed it took him 8 weeks to pull out a victory and come to life. It's all a bit "too little too late" for me at this point. What's worse is that Lane is also looking out for Hayden. If Lane was smart, he'd pack the jury with Bra-gade members and take someone like Ragan or Britney with him to the Final 2. You know Rachel and Brendon sure as hell aren't voting for Ragan or Britney to win. Lane could potentially have a clean sweep in the final 2 if he took someone not so likable with him. Instead he wants to take shaggy no lipped Hayden. I think out of all the people left in the house Hayden is the one I want to win the least. Yes, that means I'm putting Enzo one notch above him. There's something about Hayden that strikes me as very selfish and dismissive. The way he treated Kristen for one. The speed in which he abandons his alliance at the first sign of danger is another. I think most of all it's the contentment he has in letting everyone else do the dirty work for him. Hell, even Enzo at least tries to win comps. Sure, he sucks at life and all that, but he's at least trying. The only time Hayden tries is when he has to and that bugs me. Also, if you look back over the entire summer, what has Hayden done that's been entertaining? I don't know about you, but I'm coming up with a goose egg. His preoccupation with how the public views him has turned him into a paranoid and uninteresting houseguest. Rewarding boring with a half a million dollars is nauseating.

Enzo is another story. He's under some misguided fantasy that Big Brother 12 is going to make him famous. I ask you, who out of all the past houseguests is what you can honestly call "famous"? None of them. Dr. Will isn't famous. My mother wouldn't know who the hell he was if he walked down the street. Evel Dick likes to think he's famous, but what the hell has he done that's worthwhile over the past 3 years? Ass Licker is a joke who has to take her clothes off and sleep around to get any attention whatsoever. Steven has sex for money and Chelsia hosts a show anyone can produce with a lightbulb and a camera. Big Brother will not make you a star. You'll be a name amongst feedsters, but that's really about it. Enzo's delusions about going on Howard Stern and thinking some random movie producer sitting at home is gonna cast him in his next big blockbuster are completely ludicrous. People hire professionals to act or sell their products not some douchebag on a summer reality show. Reality show fame is not the same as movie fame or musician fame. The only way someone can parlay Big Brother into something substantial is to have a prior talent/skill that can be honed and developed. The prior HG's making money all had backgrounds in their prospective fields. Will was a doctor and Boogie was a club/restaurant owner. Enzo is an insurance claims adjuster. Is he really going to up and move his family to L.A. to star in Goodfellas 2? Uh, no. Like all his "we gotta win this yo", Enzo is nothing more than talk. Annoying, delusional, fantastical talk.

The fact that Enzo thinks Scorcese is sitting at home watching Showtime and planning his next great opus around him is nothing short of lunacy. The fact that he thinks millions of people will buy Meow Meow t-shirts makes me want to get Nurse Ratched on the phone. What Enzo needs is a strong thorazine drip and some intensive daily therapy... preferably the kind with 2 electric pads on either side of his skull and an Austrian at the helm. When all this is said and done, he should go to Vegas, have fun, make a couple grand doing Real Player interviews, and then go back to Jersey and raise his kid. The bar tour and the t-shirt empire are not gonna happen and the sooner he realizes that, the happier he'll be.

The whole fame thing has always been one of my biggest problems with the Bra-gade. From the second they stepped into the house, they began planning their speeches for their Hollywood Walk Of Fame ceremony. Ragan and Britney have none of these delusions of grandeur and, as a result, will probably go on to lead very successful happy lives. Britney is smart, educated, and well-traveled. She'll get married, have some kids, and enjoy the occasional "Hey, weren't you on that tv show?" for the rest of her life. Ragan will go back to Academia, his podcasts will see a burst in listeners, and he'll continue to write thought provoking and interesting poetry. Big Brother will simply be an experience they'll look back on fondly.

OK so Lane has nominated Ragan and Enzo for eviction. The plan being to get Ragan out of the house. If Ragan wins POV, Lane will put Britney up citing that he can't go against his "boy" Hayden. The likelihood of Enzo going home is still a strong possibility though. For some reason, Hayden and Lane are convinced that Enzo can win the whole thing because he's so well-liked. If that means they'll vote him out, then great, go with that logic. What do I care? Enzo aurally raped me yesterday by eating beef jerky and I'm all traumatized and showering nonstop over it. The faster we get rid of him, the better. For 48 hours now all he's done is bitch and moan over how he hasn't won anything. He's not studying, he's not practicing, he's not going over the photos on the wall... he sits around eats with his mouth open and complains about how much he sucks. Look, Enzo, we already know you suck. You will never win anything. You're the only person to make both creative visualization and the law of attraction null and void. When you put something out into the universe it spontaneously combusts and comes back to Earth in the form of bird poop. You're the anti-Stephen Covey, the not Tony Robbins, the nuh uh Oprah moment. You're the 7 Habits Of Highly Moronic People, the Go Ahead And Sweat The Small Stuff, and the Celestine Curse. Enzo would bring a chill to sweat lodges and fart his way through a meditation retreat. He's everything self-help is not.

Ragan, on the other hand, is a studying fool! He knows he has to win this POV and he's going to prepare as much as he possibly can to do so. He's studied the faces on the wall backwards and forwards, he's memorized what happened on which day, and I'm pretty sure he's counted every single fiber of carpet in the house. He has spent hour after hour going over and over everything Big Brother. His studying paid off in the last POV comp and I'd be very surprised if it doesn't help him out again today. If Big Brother continues wanting the power to flip like it has all season long, then I'm predicting some sort of memory based game for the POV. BB always tries to twist things to whatever will create the most drama and Ragan staying in this house another week will do just that.

Another way Big Brother is trying to up the drama is with Pandora's Box. Lane opened it yesterday and claims that 3 bad things will be unleashed on the house. He says he got ninety some dollars out of it and it's all really very sketchy. All I know is that BB has taken away all the glasses and untensils and HG's are now drinking coke out of bowls and milk out of the container. I'm sure it's an inconvenience and all that, but to smarty pants viewers like me it's simply a desperate measure to create more drama. These last 2 weeks will be relatively drama free. Count on that. It's always boring when BB winds down, but this cast makes it even extra boring. It's going to be a lot of laying around and general uninspiring chitchat. I honestly don't know how I'll blog about it. I'll try my best to do it daily and make something up, but don't get pissed if I miss a day or two here and there. You can't force inspiration and the muses just aren't molesting me like they used to. I'll draft a very angry letter to the Fates and see if I can get my mojo back. I'll come up with something creative. You know me, when in doubt - make shit up. To be quite honest, I can't wait for this all to be over with and for Survivor to start. Make sure you bookmark and follow my Bitchy Survivor Blog so you don't miss any of the drama. I'll start posting my cast first impressions in the beginning of September.

So, what do you think of the nominations? Do you think Ragan and Britney have a chance to both stay or has Britney completely crossed over to the douche side? Does Howard Stern have the foggiest idea who Enzo is? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

Thursday, August 26, 2010

7 Deadly Houseguests

A long long time ago in the olden timey days when thieves had their hands cut off for stealing loaves of bread and syphillis was as common as ADD, someone in a laboratory somewhere, possibly Siena or maybe Avignon, was hard at work coming up with a formula. He worked quietly and patiently in a dank cellar he had dug on the north end of his acreage. There were serfs, vassals, indentured servants, and all sorts of other people from my history classes puttering around doing chores of various importance, so Stuart, that's what we'll call this inventor, would work late at night by candlelight while everyone else was sleeping. He mixed all sorts of fragrant concoctions. Some had acacia, bayberry, and figwort while others had henbane, milk thistle, and vervain. Stuart wasn't casting a spell as yours truly is often wont to do. No, Stuart was searching for the origin of evil. *thunder clap* He thought if he found what made evil tick, then maybe he could banish it once and for all and not worry about his ladies in waiting whoring around or his footmen stealing an extra tomato here and there when he wasn't looking. After months of working through frigid winters and sweltering summers (his air conditioner was like totally broken), Stuart discovered that evil is much more complicated than he first thought. There wasn't simply one impetus that made evil so bad and not good. There were, in fact, seven. Yes, my dear readers, it's a little known fact that the Stuart in this tale is the Stuart who discovered the 7 Deadly Sins. *thunder clap* Now, why on earth would I be talking about the 7 Deadly Sins on a Big Brother Blog? Well, it's a simple as this: There are 7 houseguests left, not much went on yesterday, I thought 7 houseguests - 7 deadly sins... voila! My most ambitious blog post to date, my homage to Tyra Banks (name why this is an homage to Tyra in the comments and you're a big weiner!) Let's recap, shall we?

Stuart's first discovery was one he kinda already knew to be true himself. His wife was a lying slut who slept with the stable boy and his scullery maid was always flashing him her vaj, so yeah, the first deadly sin is Lust. *thunder clap* It was actually Aristotle who defined Lust as an "excessive love of others" so, naturally, the houseguest representing Lust is the one and only Brendon Villegas. The newly bald Brendon confessed early on to a two time a day masturbatory habit so it shouldn't really come as a surprise that he was quick to fall prey to the red headed harlot we've all come to hate. Brendon's primal urge to procreate is the deadly sin that I firmly believe ruined him for America. Sure, Brendon is a fierce competitor who doesn't know the meaning of "give up", but he's also an unfortunate tool who thinks with his loins. Had he played his own game, not been Rachel's little kumquat Bitch Boy, and made some solid friendships he could have easily been a favorite in the eyes of the public. Yes, Brendon still has a solid shot of actually winning this season from hell and I even tossed around the idea that it might not be such a bad thing after all. Then I came to my senses when I realized that Rachel would probably get a piece of that $500,000 pie, she'd monopolize every single one of his victory interviews, and these two chuckle heads would most definitely secure a spot on The Amazing Race (which I begrudgingly blog over at the Bitchy Amazing Race Blog). I don't know about you guys, but I can't live with that. I can't sleep soundly and continue to live my life happily knowing that Rachel would be out in the world somewhere buying herself some more tie dye tank tops and mismatched extensions with Brendon's money. Poor Brendon will be on welfare by December because his clown of a girlfriend would have bought the Patron distillery and drank the entire inventory. For my own sanity and for the future of tequila everywhere, I do not want Lust to win this game.

The next up on our list is Gluttony. *thunder clap* This is an easy one requiring no thinking on my part. Gluttony is represented by one Mr. Enzo Palumbo. *cue 'O Sole Mio'* Enzo not only cheats while as a Have-Not, but he eats like food is going out of style and his teeth are made of rubber. It's an open-mouthed sucking slurping dance for the ages. I literally hurl my head phones across the room when this idiot starts masticating. I've found it's faster and much easier for me to simply rip off an ear lobe rather than fumbling around trying to find the mute button. I don't know if he thinks he can extract more flavor from his food by sucking and smacking it death, but it's truly the most nauseating noise I've ever heard in my life. Being Italian and having famous pizza maker parents doesn't help Enzo's cause either. The crunchy crusts mixing with the melted gooey cheese squenching and blending around and around in his mouth is a feast for the eyes no one should ever have to witness. Being a gluttonous open mouthed pig, Enzo's primal urges draw him to all things caloric. Yes, he's stuffed things to eat into his penguin costume and just yesterday I thought people were getting way too bent out of shape over it, but last night... last night, the night before eviction, Enzo stood in the kitchen in front of Matt and Hayden, asked if he was allowed to drink chocolate milk, ignored the "no's" he got as an answer, and proceeded to make himself a giant glass of the cocoa goodness. He announced to the cameras that he didn't care if he was cheating - "Go ahead and send me to the fucking jury house yo.", he said. Hayden's eyes grew wide as he sensed his game could be in danger if Enzo left instead of Matt. Conversely, Matt just sat there and shifted uncomfortably. If I was Matt, I would have gotten straight up, marched into the DR, and said, "Hey assholes, Enzo just cheated in front of everyone. Penalty nom. Now!" The sneaking around thing with the food didn't bother me too much because other HG's have done it in the past without repercussion, but the flauting of BB laws right in front of everyone (just like Jen did in BB8) is a little over the top and, yes, he should be punished for it. I don't care anymore if he taps into that all too popular Jersey Shore demographic and makes all the non feedsters laugh 3 times a week. He should be held accountable for being a whiny gluttonous pig. Thankfully, I'm pretty confident that Enzo probably won't make it to the Final 2. If he does and he ends up winning BB12, I move that New Jersey's borders be closed and no one ever be allowed to leave that state again. Between Mr. Palumbo, that tubby drunken idiot with the bump-it in her hair, and that wretched Manzo clan, I am officially done with New Jersey!

Stop three on our whirlwind tour of sin is Greed. *thunder clap* I was looking forward to this one actually because I think we all know who the new poster boy for Greed is... Hayden. Hayden, the shaggy haired nonwinner who doesn't know the definition of "alliance" or "loyalty". The second he's on the block he turns against his in-house hook up (Kristen) in order to protect his precious self. Last night though... my god, that CBS show... Hayden went a step further in his douchebaggery and not only gathered up all the prizes for himself, but went ahead and let Matt take all the blame. I guarantee he stole money out of the church collection plate as a child. I'm pretty sure he refused to let his creepy overprotective mother give out candy to other kids on Halloween and, I'm not sure, but I wouldn't count out the possibility that Hayden has also stolen aluminum cans from the neighborhood homeless man. Hayden's greed is so overwhelming that friendships and love interests are clearly secondary in his life. I'm pretty sure he's never held a job (actually, he'd probably just steal from the till if he had) because last night he said he hasn't made more than $5000 in the past 2 years. He's 24! What the hell is he still doing in college is what I want to know?! Is he like one of those people who just shirks the idea of growing up that they stay in college for as long as possible because they know mommy and daddy will pay for it? I'll bet he takes 3 credits a semester and spends his days playing XBox and growing his hair. I don't know. I'm just really fired up over what went down last night. I hate how the Bra-gade completely manipulated Britney into doing their bidding and walked away with all the prizes in the process. The Bra-gade is the worst thing to happen to this season. They made game playing boring, winning not necessary, and acting like a scumbag par for the course. Worse still, Hayden could very easily win BB12. I think I'd rather listen to Rachel give nauseating interviews to Entertainment Weekly than know that Hayden won the money by being a scared paranoid little puppy dog who puts himself before all others. I'm organizing a midnight sex spell I've written to get Hayden out of this game once and for all. Reply in the comments if you want to join in. I'm gonna need a lot of particpants with zero inhibitions for this to work properly.

Now, we arrive at Wrath. *thunder clap* I'm going to give Wrath to one Mr. Ragan Fox. Ragan may seem spindly and weak on the outside, but he's the only person to ever put that beak-nosed parrot face in her place and I truly believe that it was his inner rage that instigated it all. You see, Ragan is a political sort of guy. He writes poems and does radio shows about a whole myriad of topics of injustice. In other words, things in the world make him angry and he reacts to them. Whether it's in limmerick form or marching in a Pride parade, Ragan is fueled by what unsettles him. He's trapped in a big stinky testicle house of heterosexual men yet he's the only person to take a stand against someone, rip her to shreds, and sound intelligent while doing it. You're a lying sack of doody if you say that the fights aren't what you live for while watching Big Brother. Without Ragan we wouldn't have had our most delicious fight of the season. It's been parodied, it's been recapped, it's been animated... that fight is all we have to cling onto in this otherwise doldrum house. As rabid fans we search and speculate for madness that might be festering. Over and over again we come up empty handed so instead we crawl into bed and think back on Lydia ripping Ass Licker a new one or Jeff telling Russell he "got got". Ahhh, the good ole days. Big outspoken personalities are what bring the drama and I'm sad to say the only people to step up to the plate this season are Ragan and Rachel. I think Kristen could have delivered had she stuck around. She's doesn't take any bullshit from anyone as we've witnessed only just yesterday when she outed the phonies bidding on her hippietard. I would have loved a Kristen, Ragan, Britney alliance. I could have been happy with them in the Final 3. Instead I'm stuck with a bunch of dummies who do nothing, say nothing, and inspire nothing. *sigh* It's depressing.

We now come to Sloth. *thunder clap* Sloth could very easily apply to several of the HG's, but I'm gonna go ahead and pin it on Lane. Lane is completely nonessential to this game. I'm sure he's nice and all that, but what the hell is he doing in Big Brother? I mean, come on! He doesn't care when he's nominated, he doesn't try win a damn thing, and I'm pretty sure he could give two shits if he went to the Jury House tonight. He's a giant athletic type of guy who simply refuses to put any of the skills he has to good use. Nothing ever phases Lane and that's doubly infuriating. He's the polar opposite of Ragan when it comes to social injustice. Ragan gets fired up, makes signs, and takes a stand. Lane shrugs his shoulders, pops a beer, and kicks back in his LazyBoy to watch the game. If it's not knocking on his door threatening hisself or his family, then Lane could really give a flying fuck. Any time he has to talk Britney into doing something stupid, he sighs and begrudgingly climbs the stairs to the HOH. Talking game interrupts his grueling floating in the pool schedule. He's boring, I wouldn't notice if he suddenly disappeared, and he's a member of that stupid Bra-gade. So yeah, Lane winning this season would be a complete clusterfuck. I can't imagine anyone wanting to read an interview with this guy. A journalist would ask, "Lane, what do you feel was your strongest move of the game?" Lane would reply, "Well, ummm, I'm not sure really. Do you have a floatie on you? I've got a hankering to hang out by the pool." The only thing of interest Lane has done this season was to get caught masturbating and even that was bloody boring! The most exciting part was when he rinsed his hand off. I rarely even talk about Lane in this here fancy blog because he doesn't inspire me in the least. At least Rachel gave me something to work with. She had personality (albeit a horrible and wretched one) and wouldn't shut up. Lane gives me nothing.

This brings us to Envy. *thunder clap* You're not gonna understand it at first, but let me explain it and eventually you'll hop onboard and get it. I am assigning Envy to Britney. She's not the petty jealous type that Rachel is. Rachel's envy stems from her own insecurity of being a vile hose beast. Britney's envy is a little more complicated than that. Britney is envious of brotherhood and comraderie. Brit is a gals gal who's done the sorority thing and dealt with catty bitches her entire life. She's southern and grew up in pageants so hairspray and make-up have been a part of her world from a very young age. Deep down inside Britney just wants to talk dirty, scratch herself, and hang out with the dudes. She's got a wicked sense of humor that's not always appropriate in southern circles so she stifles it and instead thinks evil thoughts to herself. In the Big Brother house, however, this underdeveloped tomboy side she has not only flourished, but delighted us all with merriment and glee. She was the comedy force behind Just The Tip, she can crack up a room full of dudes and not break a sweat, and she'll stay up all night getting chum chunks on her with nary a complaint. The only problem with all of this is that when it comes down to the wire, the penis people are going to cut Britney out and she'll find herself alone with the despicable failures in the Jury House. It's Britney's envy of the brotherhood that caused her colossal mistake this week. I think in her effort to infiltrate the guys, she lost sight of herself and her own game thus letting them manipulate her much more easily than it should have been. She's completely blind to the alliance before her and instead of running her own HOH, she got suckered into running it for the guys. It's a horrible horrible shame because I would have loved to have seen Britney get to the Final 2. Unfortunately, it's gonna take a whole lot of miracles and perhaps a ball of twine and duct tape for that to happen. I'll keep my fingers crossed for Britney, but I also won't be surprised if tonight is her last night in the house.

Finally, we arrive at Pride. *thunder clap* Pride is the most difficult of all the 7 Deadly Sins to conquer. I learned that by watching Charmed I'll have you know. This one, of course, is a no brainer. Pride falls upon the wee little non super genius himself, Matt. Matt's pride first emerged in Week 3. He was so overcome with self love and all the goofy labels and personalities he'd assigned to himself that he thought getting out the most powerful twosome in the house was no big deal. His monumental mistake not only affected the entire BB12 season, but it also planted the very first seed in the minds of the Bra-gade that Matt is someone who can't be trusted. Had he been all Bra-gade, all the time, he might not find himself in the perdicament he's in now. Instead, he thought he knew better than everyone else, he spent hours fondling his own balls, and smirking at his own reflection, that he failed to see the doubt and mistrust in the eyes of his closest friends. Matt was a promising player who had small stature on his side. How he managed to fuck it all up still astounds me. He had America (well, the weird short man lovers) rooting for him, he had some smarts, and then he said, "Hey, it's the diabolical super genius here..." and we all just kind of groaned and rolled our eyes. Worse still, you know he sat around and planned that moniker for weeks before entering the BB house. That wasn't something that was spontaneous in the DR. It was carefully planned and he probably thought it was gonna get him places in life. Instead, he finds himself with one foot out the door, no friends to call his own, and America ready to pounce for the diseased wife lie.... all because his pride got in the way of his game. Pathetic. Absolutely unequivocally pathetic. So sayonara Matty Boy... you truly deserve what you're getting tonight. You will never be a music star and you will never be a sex symbol. I suggest you go back home, make it up to your wife, and stop being such a monumental douchebag. Never do reality tv again. Just focus on your little web design profession and see a shrink to break you of your disgusting ball cradling habit. Thank you.

Sooooo, do Ragan and Britney have a chance in hell to stick around for another few weeks? Do you think Matt outing the Bra-gade would have helped him stay? Will BB address the chocolate milk incident? How long do you think Kathy's lifeless body has been at the bottom of the pool? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

Artwork in today's blog is by Marta Dahlig.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Grody Stinky Balls

There have been a great many grand sweeping windy love stories throughout time. Romeo & Juliet, Rhett & Scarlett, Paris & Helen, Stanley & Stella, Phoebe & Cole, Tristan & Isolde, Lizzie & Darcy... the list goes on and on. They capture our hearts and give us hope that there's a meaning to all the madness and everyday crap we go through. They make the moon sparkle, our loins quiver, and have us wondering more often than not, "What the hell am I doing with this dolt lying next to me? I need a Cole or a Scarlett in my life." Yes, romance is powerful and beautiful and sprinkled in fairy dust and dipped in chocolate and all the rest of it. There is but one downfall to a great love affair... the scorned lover. *shivers* There is nothing quite as unpredicatable or as scary as a scorned lover. You could come home one day and find your clothes thrown willy nilly all over the front lawn or your bunny boiling in a pot. There is truly no telling just how far a scorned lover will go. They may tell your friends all your dirty bedroom secrets or post naked photos of you on the internet or maybe they just sit in a corner flicking a lamp on and off and quietly seethe. Those are the scariest in my opinion - the quiet cerebral ones who systematically search for ways to destroy you. Their approach is subtle and skilled. They may not skin your cat or cut the crotches out of all your underwear; instead, they'll start a rumor... a slow festering puss filled rumor that'll creep about slowly infecting everyone who comes into contact with it. Yup, it's definitely the liars you have to look out for. And right about now I'm thinking that the incorrectly self proclaimed diabolical super genius is one such person. Let's recap, shall we?

Before we get to the collapsed love affair of Ragan & Matt, let us address the big controversy that's taken over the internet: Enzo ate food. *gasps as thunder rumbles in the distance* Twitter fans and angry blog commenters alike have taken it upon themselves to grab their placards, charter buses, and organize marches on Washington (thanks Creme!) for the liberation of the justification of the beautifcation of the "We Love Matt" movement... or something like that. Matt fans everywhere furiously punched CBS phone numbers into their iPhone's and left lengthy angry voicemails. Sit-ins were organized, boycotts were planned, and innocent penguins were murdered - one on the hour every hour - until Enzo got his due. You see, the Penguin himself has taken to stuffing food into the belly of his costume and whipping it out to enjoy a tasty treat when he thinks he's going unnoticed. First off, Enzo is a fucking moron. He's been living in a house of cameras for the past 300 days (it feels that long so just go with it) and he truly thinks he can slip something past Big Brother. Look, you guys, Big Brother has a team of P.A.'s watching this shit around the clock and documenting every single thing that goes on. They know Enzo cheated. They know exactly what's going on and you know what? They really don't seem to care. Manipulation is one of Big Brother's most popular traits. Big Brother is supposed to play with the minds of the people he's controlling. Not to get too Orwellian, but "Big Brother" is, in fact, omniscient and always correct. If BB wants Enzo to get off without a penalty, then Enzo will get off without a penalty. I'm not sure that rioting in the streets and tweeting (what are most likely incorrect phone numbers) are really going to change anything. It's happened in past seasons where HG's have snuck food in the bathrooms and have gone unpunished. Jen got punished on BB8 because she made a big dramatic to-do about it and did it out in the open purposely flauting BB's laws. I don't know. I just think it's kind of funny that a flurry of fans who absolutely hate it when BB interferes are now, essentially, begging for BB to interfere. Get over yourselves. It's a game. Furthermore, Matt will not fall in love with you when he gets out of the house. Deal with it.

OK so back to the task at hand. Ragan is all pissed off because Matt, his in-house bestie and lover, actually suggested to Britney that Ragan go up on the block in his place. Knowing that his confidant and paramour was so willing to turn on him has basically destroyed Ragan's belief in good and evil, right and wrong, and hot and cold. It never even entered Ragan's mind that the one guy he's shared long lazy convos in the hammock with could be so heartless and uncaring. I feel bad for Ragan. I know what it's like to put your trust into someone only to have them turn into a total asshole and betray you. People like that are insecure, jealous, and probably rotting inside being eaten alive by their own hate. Matt strikes me as one such person. I say this because even in the wake of his nomination, he's still sprinkling mentions of his poor diseased wife into conversation... conversations with Ragan no less! If anything, I thought he'd apologize and fess up in an effort to avoid the post-BB hate that's bound to come. Or at least I thought he'd nix mentioning Stacey when he knows very well that the truth will destroy Ragan even more. Never in my wildest dreams did I think Matt would continue to pursue, and use, the diseased wife lie.

The diabolical super genius is in fact an insecure selfish guy desperate for fame. This isn't his first reality show and I have a feeling, if he has it his way, it won't be his last. Maybe his mother didn't hug him enough or he didn't get laid a lot in college. I'm not sure, but something somewhere went wonky in his upbringing and it's resulted in his testicles being a security blanket. Am I the only one who finds that habit of his to be really fucking disgusting? He touches things in the house all the time! The kitchen counters, door handles, weights, the HOH remote control, an innocent Sprite bottle... everything in that damn house is covered in Matt's penis! Imagine if a chick sat around with her hand down her pants all the time. She'd be labeled a perv and Francis Farmer'd into a lobotomy. Ok maybe not a lobotomy, but my view of mental institutions is very 1940's and filled with bizarre operations, unfeeling nurses, and all sorts of electrical probes. The point I'm making is that Matt's hand down the pants is not charming, it's not cute, and it's not funny. It's a nasty hotel comforter black light health hazard. If I was in that house I'd demand gloves and a giant tub of those Lysol disinfectant wipes. What's even more nauseating is that Matt's nasty little habit is actually contagious. Now, Enzo lies around with his hand on his junk and I'm pretty sure garlicky olive-oiled Jersey junk on the sliding glass door handle is enough to make anyone never want to go outside again. No wonder that house smells! It's akin to living nestled next to a fat man's balls in tight one size too small jockeys. Yuck!

So Ragan is devastated. He's burned all the love poems, scattered the ashes into the wind, and has decided there's no way in hell he's ever gonna vote for Matt to stay or win this game. Ragan is also pissed off that he ever bothered to campaign for that little douchebag when he was on the block. Worse still, Matt is now using Ragan's campaigning last week against him. He's telling the others that he never asked Ragan to do that and that Ragan is clearly someone who can't be trusted. As if Ragan's back doesn't have enough steel blades lodged into it, Matt has now taken to using Ragan as a sacrificial lamb in an effort to save himself. Matt tells Hayden that Ragan's real targets are Hayden and Enzo not Brendon. He promises that if he stays in the game, he'll deliver all of Ragan's info to the Bra-gade. He's BG for life. *smacks chest and flashes gang sign* Matt goes on to tell Lane that Ragan is no longer the soft and emotional gay puppy who could be manipulated. Now, he's a rabid dog lusting to infect innocent bystanders. Matt wants Lane or Atticus Finch to take him out. If they can't shoot him, then maybe they should start studying harder. Matt advises Lane that Ragan knows that house inside and out and that the Bra-gade need to get their shit together and start memorizing.

Lane listens to everything Matt says and just kind of nods. Matt senses that he's not be taken seriously so he clutches at more some straws and says that he thinks Ragan now has a side alliance with Enzo and Britney. LOL That's funny. Worst. Lie. Ever. Enzo can't stand Britney and Ragan. Matt, of all people, should know that Lane's not gonna buy a lie like that. It's sad and fascinating at the same time to witness the unraveling of one Mr. Matt Hoffman. To Ragan's face he's apologetic, sweet, and saying he wants to go gay clubbing with him (of course he does), then behind his back he's calling him crazy, unpredictable, and scary. If he had a brain cell in his head rather than in his pants, he'd just out the Bra-gade already, get Ragan and Brendon to vote for him to stay, and have Britney break the tie and keep him in the house. It's logical, smart, and actually possible to pull off. This alternative of slandering Ragan and inventing phony alliances isn't going to get Matt anywhere at all. He's too transparent to pull it off. He should just stick with the truth (the Bra-gade), the people who were his closest friends (Ragan and Britney), and work his ass off to stay another week.

Later on in the night we find a semi-paranoid Hayden. Look, Hayden's not a bad guy per se, I just have a huge problem with the way he's playing this game. He turns on his alliances faster than you can say "Kristen" and it strikes me as slightly creepy. I'm pretty sure there's a way to play this game without betraying your best friends and lovers in the house. Instead of winning and taking control of his own BB experience, Hayden is happy to let everyone else do the dirty work for him as long as he stays off the block. The only game he's playing consists of asking everyone who they'd vote to win in the Final 2. He takes that info and uses it to create side alliances. Lucky for him, it's working so far and, regretfully, I can see him winning the whole kit and caboodle. It's like another Jordan winning. Sure, she won the money, but she got to the end not by her own devices. She got to the end by being carried there and having a jury who voted emotionally rather than strategically. She's a half a mil richer, but I don't respect her for it and I never will. I won't respect Hayden for a BB12 win either. Actually, the only people I can respect winning this season right now are Britney and Ragan. They're not flawless, but they're the only ones, besides Kristen, who've stood up for what they believed in. I respect their balls. It's as simple as that.

So, can the Ragan/Matt love affair ever be mended? How insane-o do you think Ragan will go when he finds out that Matt lied about his wife's disease? Do you think Matt should out the Bra-gade and tell Brendon the truth as to what's really going on? How many Hazmat teams will it take to clean that BB house from top to bottom? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

Don't forget to check out the most exciting BB eBay auction ever! Kristen's hippietard is killing it! Check it out and bid HERE.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Wishy Washy Suckfest

Yesterday someone, I won't say who (her name is STACKED), left a comment in the wee hours of the morn suggesting I sacrifice my prized leprechaun, Mr. O'Shaugnessy, in order to get Britney to nominate Hayden. It's not like Mr. O is worth his weight in gold or anything! Oh alright, so maybe he is, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna boil him up for the worst season of Big Brother ever! What you bitches don't seem to understand is that my leprechaun is a lot more than just someone I kick around now and again. He packs my opium, he stirs my gin, he holds my balls of yarn when I knit, and I'll have you know he's quite the lover. Mr. O can curl my toes like no other. You'd think he was an Argentinian polo player or a long haired romance novel cover model rather than a ornery tiny person with flaming red chest hair. I was actually considering bringing over some of Mr. O's brothers from Dublin to sell on eBay. I was gonna give you guys the opportunity to bid first before I opened up my auctions to the general public, but forget it now. I can just see the whole lot of you sadistic whores harming some of the beloved O'Shaugnessy clan for your own personal gain. Yes, leprechaun's are magical, but they can also be ruthless little monkeys if you don't treat them right.

I first found Mr. O while on a week long holiday in Ireland. I had just seen that movie Veronica Guerin and I wanted to go to Dublin to pretend I was Cate Blanchett sniffing out drug dealers. I had always loved Cate and thought I'd have no problem pretending to be a stubborn journalist while sporting a sassy new short haircut. I had practiced my brogue, packed my Michael Flatley DVD's and a couple bars of Irish Spring, and bought a giant cable knit sweater just for the occasion. I called everyone I met a "wee lassie" and I ate a lot meat packed stews. One day, while searching for Bono's house, I got lost and found myself in the middle of a giant field of peat. From my history lessons I knew that back in the olden timey days people were sacrificed in the magical bogs of peat. I'm not sure why, but I think it could have been for messing up in clogging class or something. So anyhow, there I was all alone with the wind in my hair when I started to weep. I just knew that some stray Gaelic speaking clansman was gonna see my cute self, claim me for his own, have his way with me, and then sacrifice me later in a weird ritualistic Druid ceremony I wouldn't understand one word of. I always knew I was gonna be a prized posession, but not to some hairy guy in a skirt who decorated with too many plaids.

Sad and hopeless I cried myself to sleep and awaited my fate. The next morning I awoke to find myself in a meticulous tree house that smelled like cookies and cabbage. I opened my eyes slowly to find a small red headed creature scurrying back and forth from the oven to the kitchen table. He was smoking a pipe and muttering to himself about his cookies not being chewy enough. I was at once scared yet fascinated. Who was this silly little man? Would he hurt me or just feed me well? Sensing me stirring in my bed made of hay he came over to me and smiled. He said, "'Ello wee lassie, ya fancy a smoke and a pint?" Why, it was the cutest thing I'd ever seen! I grabbed him by the neck, pulled him into bed with me, and we spent the next week doing unspeakable things with heads of cabbage. It was bliss. I brought him back to America with me and here we live happily ever after. So, no, no I will not sacrifice my leprechaun! It was fate that I found him in the first place. Let's recap, shall we?

Our pageant princess Britney seems to have herself a decision making problem. Should she put Matt or Hayden on the block? At first it seemed like there was no way in hell she'd put Matt up for eviciton. As soon as she'd won HOH she assured both Matt and Ragan that they were 100% safe. After Brendon won POV and ruined, well, everything, Britney became scared of making too many enemies. If she puts up Hayden, then Enzo, Lane, and Brendon will be mad at her. If she puts up Matt, Ragan will be mad at her. What's a girl to do?

First, you don't worry about who's gonna be mad at you. What the hell Britney?!? You're a tough chick. Make a decision and stick with it! Think it out logically. Do you really think the boys club on the other side of the house are going to keep you in this game for another week? Doesn't it strike you as odd that they never win anything? Also, wasn't Enzo talking shit about you just last week? Come on girl! Get it together.

The problem in why this decision is so damn hard for Britney is Lane. Look, I don't mind Lane. He's funny in his DR's and all that, but when you stop to think about it he really doesn't do much else. I rarely write about him in this very blog because he never does anything. He doesn't fight with people and he doesn't win shit. Basically, he is drama-less which means he's a big ole bore. I'm sure he's lovely in person and it must be fun to go shoot stuff with him, but in the game of Big Brother he's a ginormous beefy yawnfest. If he left tomorrow, I honestly can't say that the house wouldn't be any different. That's how insignificant he is. He floats in the pool, he lifts his weights, and he sleeps. That's about it. If he actually stood up to someone and made some power moves I might think differently, but for now he's inconsequential to my enjoyment of the game.

Actually, what the hell am I talking about? I hate this game. I hate it with every fiber of my being. It's work for me to watch the damn feeds anymore. I half ass it and go to instead to catch up on everything I missed. My house is clean, I sleep like 9 hours a night, I watch movies, I work, I paint exquisite flower pictures that may or may not look like vaginas... the point is, I'm getting an unusual amount of shit done for a Big Brother season. Usually, I'm up all night hunched over my laptop madly typing important notes I mustn't forget. I'd live off of canned goods and leftover crackers because I'd be too afraid to go to the grocery store and miss anything. I'd fight with idiots in the chat rooms because I'd be so passionate about who I was rooting for that I'd take it upon myself to defend them to the death. Now, instead, I lie in bed, watch Bravo shows, play 18 Words With Friends games at once, and check my Twitter for what's going on in the house. I search the dark cavernous recesses of my mind trying to find ways to make this blog interesting. Big Brother is so fucking boring that I choose to live in a fantasy world of ritual human sacrifice and fanciful mythical creatures rather than focus on game play. I'm gonna be honest with you guys, it is so hard for me to find any joy whatsoever in this season. The other day someone asked me, "So, what do you do, you watch the Feeds all day and write about them?" I replied, "No, I just make shit up." She said, "And people read that?" I said, "Yeah, you'd be surprised how many." She said, "Well, good for you." I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, "Yeah... good for me."

I HATE BIG BROTHER 12!!! Are you fucking listening to me Allison Grodner? Why the hell did you cast such boring idiots for me to write about? How you call yourself an Executive Producer of anything is beyond me. Your twists aren't going to save this damn season so enough already!Here's what I want you to do. I want you to hire an Israeli Commando and blow up the fucking house. Use some C4 or toilet paper dipped in gasoline. I don't care how you do it, just fucking do it. Put an end to this madness, fire Robyn Kass, fire yourself, and then hand the reins over to whomever is running the Bad Girls Club. If BB13 isn't All Stars 2, then I want a bunch of nutty broads who have no problem getting naked and punching each other in the face. If you can't manage to do that, then I want devices implanted into each of the HG's brains that make throwing competitions excruciatingly painful. Call NASA, the FBI, the CIA, the Vatican... someone somewhere must have the technology to make a small metal electronic genital zapper that can sense when an HG is about to throw a comp.

Better yet, why don't you just go ahead and visit a parole officer? Cast 13 ex-cons with violent pasts and let them all kill each other for the grand prize. Or you could do an Agatha Christie type thing where the HG's wake up to find another HG murdered in their bed. Houseguests would have to figure out who the killer is or else end up dying a tragic death. Maybe have a Gladiator season. With the overwhelming success of Spartacus: Blood and Sand, gladiators are very hot right now. Cast a bunch of big beefy guys and let them fight to the death. Maybe for POV they can wrestle with a lion or something. We'll call the show Big Brother Ludus and they'll wear nothing but loin cloths for 10 weeks. If that's impossible because PETA will throw a big tantrum over the whole lion thing, then might I suggest Big Brother: Drag Queen Version? You get 14 bitchy drag queens who have innovative ways of turning a phrase (shit like "throwing shade" or just randomly shouting "gorgonzola!") and let them have run of the house for the summer. You wouldn't even need to have big dramatic competitions. Just let them hurl "Yo Mama" insults to one another in the backyard and the last one left standing wins. Look AG (and CBS), I've given you some amazing suggestions for how to bring this show back to life. I want you to call me, hire me, and we'll make this happen.

OK I'm sorry about all that. I've been holding this shit in for weeks now and I just needed to let loose. I'm not stopping the blog or anything like that. I'd never do that to you guys. I'll continue to cover this travesty. I just wanted it in writing how much this season makes me want to hurl myself out of a window and land face first onto a rusty spike.

So yeah, Britney can't make a decision about Matt. Matt convinced her to keep him, then Lane convinced her to dump him, then Ragan convinced her to keep him again, then Hayden convinced her to dump him again. I don't know if Britney is really this wishy washy and easily swayed or if she's already made her decision and is just playing everyone. If you remember a few days ago she lied to Brendon telling him how hard it was for her to make a decision about who to nominate. I'm hoping she's doing something similar to that now. I'm hoping that she's already got it fixed in her mind that she's going to put up Hayden and stick tight with her pals Matt and Ragan. If she keeps Enzo in this game, then I fear her days are numbered. If I'm left having to recap this shit with only Bra-gade members in the house, I'm gonna get Ophelia on everyone's ass and fall into a brook and "accidentally" drown. Instead of handing out rue, the herb of regret, I'll eat it myself and shrivel up my insides while dying a slow and painful foaming at the mouth death while lying in a creek 12 inches deep. Yeah, that's what I'm gonna do.

So, how do you think Britney will nominate today? Do you think she's playing everyone and she already knows very well what's she's gonna do? How will you take your own life if we're stuck with all Bra-gade members for the final weeks? Comment it out bitches and have a great day! No blog tomorrow. Something suddenly came up.

One more thing: Please check out the hippetard up for auction over at eBay. It's the one cool item from this season. Kristen is even throwing in the wig! Pretty awesome. Bid HERE.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

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!