*pushes giant red plastic button*
Welcome to the black hole that is Big Brother 14. Welcome to the gravitational suckhole that slurps up time and people and never looks back. Buh bye week one! Adios week two! See ya later Willie tits! Vaya con dios week three! This Event Horizon, this Point Of No Return, this Total Recall is our Nightmare On Big Brother Street. Scientifically speaking, the black hole forms when a massive star is at the end of its life cycle. It grows and grows absorbing mass, light, time, people, common sense, good ratings... Willies. *tear* The dying star in this scenario is Big Brother and being the BB indentured servant that I am, I better hurry up and write this blog before my gin, my glitter, and myself are all sucked into oblivion. Let's recap, shall we?
All aboard the Shit Boat! The Bukkake Shit Boat. The squirting poop jizz all over your face boat. No, this isn't that one dark freaky movie tucked away in the back of your personal porn collection. This is Big Brother bitches! So, the feeds return and the Houseguests are hanging off the side of the Titanic. Rabid seagulls caw in the distance which is strangely a lot like Celine Dion singing about how her heart will go on. Joe is singing 'Eye Of The Tiger' as Shane announces, "No offense, but Jodi would've fallen already." Boogie shivers quietly to himself before discreetly turning to Ian and whispering, "I can't win this." It's been a hot minute and Boogie is already having major problems. You can't blame him really. It's the ole guy's nap time! His tea is getting cold and his digestive biscuits are going stale.
Whether it's the freezing cold water, the flying jizz, or the tilt of the ship, Rip Van Winkle simply can't hang on. Boogie is the first to drop and is quickly followed by both Jenn and Joe. Jenn pretty much gave up while the gravitational pull of the Big Brother blackhole latched onto Joe's face pubes and yanked him into the water. Clearly.
And here they all are snuggled together sucking at life.
The feces continue to fly while Wil cocks his hip casually and chats up Danielle. I can't really hear what he is saying, but I'm sure it's something like, "Can you please scratch my skull for me? Please. The nits. My god, the nits!"
Down towards the other end of the ship, we find Shane and Frank both beginning to have issues yet strangely rooting each other on. Has the newbie revolution reconvened? Let's hope so. Revolution or not, this is an Endurance Competition for a petite sort of frame. Large hairy curly wildebeests with cankles saved by Grodner's lady boner are jumbly and awkward. Into the sea with you! Fall! Fall!
While I was quieting down the sacrificial virgin on stand by and preparing my hemlock, belladonna, and mugwort spell to topple curly creatures, I suddenly heard a screech followed by a splash and, ultimately, a giggle. A guttural hearty giggle. It's Ashley and the stars that dance over her head 24 hours a day were simply too distracting for her to hang on anymore.
Ashley is then followed by Julliard trained actor, Dan. Dan throws everything, ev-er-y-thing, and this first Endurance Comp is no exception. Only this time, he lingers in the water and pouts. He balls up his tiny fists and shouts, "Oh darn! Shoot! Fiddlesticks." Whatever Dan. This sad comedy of errors continues after he finally emerges from the water and retreats to stare forlornly into the distance. And the Razzie goes to...
Paul Bunyon is next to fall which, I have to admit, tickles my groins. If there is one person I did not want to see win this, it's Frank. After CBS bent the entire season to his will like a flirtatious willow tree, the last thing he needed was another reward. He shouldn't even be there!
Minutes and hours and days pass and our poor fop Shane is beginning to get a little squirrelly. He has endured the cold and the jizz. He has hung on to the ship of doom, this ship of fools, for dear life. The problem is that his hands and arms are going numb. With grunts and cries and Monica Seles "UGH's", it's looking like the end is nigh for the boy band member who had his HOH so rudely snatched away from him. Nothing he did last week matters anymore. All he has is this moment. This one wet fart of a moment right here. Wil, too, is struggling. This duo of Little Lord Fauntleroys look at one another in the eye and nod. They'll jump ship together. Splash! Snap, snap, twist.
Amazonian Janelle trundles her carcass into the water next and I couldn't be happier. I'm sick of hearing about what a great player this chick is. I haven't seen it! I. Haven't. Seen. It.
And this brings us to our final three: Ian, Britney, and Danielle. Let's evaluate them one by one. Ian would make a miserable HOH. He's meek, easily manipulated, and would never have the lady balls to put a Coach on the block. Britney is simple awful. We can't have a Coach as HOH - not now. Plus, she'll probably get something crunchy in her HOH basket and then she'll want to eat it. My ears! Lastly, we have demonically possessed Danielle. It's no secret that I am not a fan of Danielle, however... however! She's batshit crazy and there's no telling what kinds of sexual favors she'd demand from Shane during her tenure. Can't you just see her forcing Shane to sleep with her every night? While he sleeps she'll stare down at him with wild eyes and count his tiny breaths. Up and down, one. Up and down, two. OMG she's so creepy! It could be our first poltergeist HOH. Sign me up!
The final three begin to wither and fade. Ian can't hang on much longer and if no one will hand him the HOH so he can get a letter from his mommy, then he wants to know that he's safe. Britney, too, looks anxiously from side to side and asks, "Will I be safe? You're not going to put me up, are you?" Finally, they all agree that they won't put one another up.
Ian jumps, Britney topples over, and Danielle, very strangely, floats feet first and lands creepily on her back. She opens her mouth and inhales. A long slow pull on the black demon smoke cloud that floats above her. IT is in her now and there's nothing she can do about it. Once IT is allowed to enter a healthy host body, the world becomes upside down crosses and weird runes drawn in chalk on the floorboards under the bed. What was once cozy is now barefoot flannel pajama witching hour creeping about the house on tiptoes. Welcome to rings under the eyes and strange messages burned onto the skin. You know that line from Breakfast Club, "It'll be anarchy!"? Well, this week in Big Brother... it'll be Amityville! *raven flies overhead*
I'm afraid we're going to need an old priest and a young priest this week, bitches. Lord help us.
And that's that. Sadly, the initial overnight game talk is missing some very important elements. Those elements being COACHES. I don't know what sort of game the devil is playing, but he doesn't want Danielle to nominate any Coaches. That's how he works though. He never gives us what we want! Right now we might be looking at a Wil/Frank nomination which makes no sense at all to me. We've got 8 Newbies and 4 Coaches. The Newbies need to pull a Willie, band together, and get the Coaches out now so they can play their own game. I'll start looking in my Book Of Shadows and see what I can come up with to get Janelle on the block. Leave me a comment if you dabble in the black arts... or watch Charmed reruns. I'm open to all suggestions.
So. So! What do you guys think? How about that twist, huh? How about CBS completely destroying the moral fibers that hold reality television together? Are you happy with our new HOH? Who do you think Danielle should nominate? Does Shane have a prayer of coming out of this alive, a wing and a prayer? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!
It's going to be a hell of a week. Literally, HELL. Mwahahaha!!! Why not sign up for a 3-day free trial of the Live Feeds? You have nothing to lose... BUT YOUR SOUL.