A self described "Hillbilly Asian," James is a delightful study in contradictions. He may talk slow, but his wit is quick. Glance at him swiftly and you might think he's reserved and shy, but get to know him a bit and he proudly calls himself a beast. Pass him on the street and Bobby Lee comes to mind, but sit and listen to him and he's all Caleb, baby.
He's likable enough, but I'm not getting inspired as I sit here. He says all the right things yet my response is to shrug. Nothing to love, nothing to hate. Nothing. I got nothing.
If talking out of the side of your mouth and crinkling your brow like Chuck Woolery was an Olympic Sport, Jace would be champion of the universe. Jace of all trades, master of none, this Douchey McGee is a personal trainer, surfer, skater, basket weaver, rapper, Molly Maid, plumber, ghost hunter and part time executioner. He's got his eye on that 500K and so proclaims, "This is my Michael Jordan year." Well I don't know about you guys, but I've got my eye on a chainsaw and I'd like to use it to remove Jace's head from his body.
BUT even I have to admit he's kind of charismatic. At least he's not a bag of mulch like that pretty boy Clay. The more I watch him, the more I think I'm digging him? Question mark. The confidence is there. There's a bravado of leadership that you need in order to keep my interest in the house. I'm drawn to people who take the game by the horns and aren't afraid to manipulate others to get what they want. Could Jace be someone I actually end up rooting for? Stay tuned!
Next up is 27 year old Poker Dealer Da'Vonne Rogers from the land of fruit and nuts - California. After being lulled into a comatose state earlier today by that wooden peg Clay, I have especially high hopes for our first (and only?) sister of the season. Give it to me, girlfriend!
Sassy from the start, Da'Vonne is bubbly and full of personality. Her dead granny turned her on to Big Brother and now, thanks to a Ouija Board, some hemlock, and a little mugwort, Dead Granny used the power of the spirit world to infiltrate Big Brother casting offices and get her granddaughter on the show. So far, I like what I'm hearing.
HOWEVER, Da'Vonne also has a brat. Or some brats. She's a mother and she wants people to know that she's a mother because she thinks pooping a baby out of your hoo-ha brings sympathy from the fellow HG's. Personally, I hate mothers on Big Brother. I don't care about your incubi of viral plagues. I don't care about how you left them for the summer (it was your choice!). I don't care how little Billy is finally going to Kindergarten and you're not going to be there for it. Children are meant to be locked in cages and then set free when they're 18.
But then Da'Vonne wins me back a little because the girl actually wants to PLAY the game. Dead Granny didn't go through all the trouble of rattling her chicken bones for Da'Vonne to just sit there and coast through the summer. It sounds good in theory, but the more Da'Vonne talks, the more super specific her game plans become. She's got it planned to where she wants to be 3rd place in the first HOH, have 2 friends, 1 pillow on her bed, 45 minutes of pool time. Just stop. Stop your planning. None of it matters.
Overall, I think I like her. She's articulate, has a good sense of humor and she just introduced me to the phrase "ride or die main apple scrapple." She could be fun, right?
Howdy pardner's. This here is Clay Honeycutt. He's a 23 year old graduate student at Texas A&M and, let's face it, he's kind of a hot piece of ass if you like that pretty boy thing.
Unfortunately, Clay is about as exciting as a carpet fiber. He's a paint sample. A styrofoam packing nut. One of those subscription cards that falls out of a magazine and onto your floor. The chiseled jaw, the strong cheekbones, and, I'm assuming, fantastic pecs... all wasted on this lump of humdrum banality. If you don't have 8 minutes to sit and watch Clay's video, just stare at a metronome for like 10 seconds. Same. Exact. Thing.
When asked why he was picked to be on Big Brother, Clay replies, "I'm still trying to figure that out." Look, Abercrombie, you were picked because of your face and taut buttocks. And you know what? Good for you. You won the genetic lottery and you probably get laid left and right BUT...
Here's what it comes down to - Clay is about as deep as that teardrop that fell onto your lap as you watched his casting video. Although he's not quite as deep as the second one that fell when you realized that you'll probably have to watch him for at least a few weeks. The best we can hope for with Clay is that Audrey keeps her secret and he falls madly in love with her. I'll throw another virgin on the fire and you guys start calling the corners. So mote it be!
This is Becky Burgess from Denver, Colorado. She is 26 years old and works in the cutthroat world of retail. Let's see if she has slayed any dragons in her youth or has an illustrious past as a mermaid, shall we?
For some reason, Becky is under the impression that she is on a job interview. She's a double major in Tedious and Boring. She works well with others and likes to build up other people's female psychology - whatever the hell that means. She also likes to hike. Up mountains.
When she was in school, she learned how to count so she can count things. Lots of things. Things that can be counted for, you know, the counting competitions.
Look, I don't need to watch anymore of this chick talk in order to tell you that she's a Type A neat freak telling us exactly what we think we want to hear. What she won't tell you is that she can also sometimes eat an entire bundt cake while crouched in the back of her closet if she doesn't win Employee Of The Month at Claire's. She'll tell you she's a girl's girl, but really she's got a Burn Book under her mattress and she's adding to it every night... "Marielle put her Chai Latte on the counter that I had just Windexed. It left a ring. Tomorrow, I'll accidentally shoot her in the eye with the ear piercing gun." "Today, Elaine dropped some Tahini on my DVF skirt - the one I got on sale at Gilt. Tomorrow, I'll feed her cat the Oleander infused milk I keep in the fridge for such occasions."
Look at her eyes. Large. Purposeful. Waiting for you to screw up. And when you say something she doesn't like. *blink, blink* She is SO writing about you tonight before she goes to bed!
Listen to her talk for 8 minutes straight and you run the risk of a self-induced coma, but... there's something. Something that makes me think she has serial killer potential. She's putting on an act. That's what it is. A big ole phony act that could end with a lost decapitated head floating somewhere off the coast of Galveston, Texas.
Next up is former pro wrestler Austin Matelson from Woodland Hills, CA. Austin is a hulking mammoth of a man with a wild mane of hair and a secret identity he calls "Judas."
Immediately we see that Mr. Judas is charismatic, confident, and an articulate kind of a guy. There are lots of layers lurking beneath those locks and I look forward to discovering each and every one. He has a Masters Degree in Medieval Romance Literature and sometimes likes to lead a troupe in a little "Rah rah rah" when the fancy strikes. I'm just going to come out and say it... I LOVE HIM.
While this is an image you could have tucked in the back of your mind when thinking about Austin, I would venture to say that this one works as well...
(Meeting On Turret Stairs by Frederick William Burton)
Throw in a couple lutes and a goblet of gin and you got me, Austin.
While Austin is indeed a formidable presence, he is very well aware that this is also his biggest obstacle. All any HG needs to do is take one look at this guy to know that he is going to be a competition problem. Austin is prepared for such a reaction and so he will tell everyone he's got all sorts of multisyllabic maladies. Will it work? Probably not. Do we want it to work? Hell YES! In his own words, "I'm a medieval historian. I believe in true love." So do we, Austin. So. Do. We.
This guy is my One To Watch. I find him charming and eloquent. He works "Arthurian" into sentences with the ease of a knight pulling a sword out of a stone. The dude's even got a princess in a castle, for crying out loud! What is not to love about this guy?!
Waterhouse, Ophelia, The Lady Of Shalott. Shit, I've got some studying to do.
Have you signed up for your Live Feeds yet? Let me just remind you... Austin - in the shower. Go sign up!
The curtain has been pulled back. All the excited bright faces filled with highfalutin promises and a lot of poppycock have come out one by one to say hello. Let's get started, shall we?
First up is 25 year old Audrey Middleton from Villa Rica, Georgia.
Let's get the big hot topic out of the way. Audrey is, in fact, a member of the Transgender community. She was born with the dingle dangle parts, but is now a lady. Good for you, CBS. I've been lobbying for an All Tranny BB or at least an All Drag Queen BB since 2009 (in addition to an All Ex-Con version which would be brilliant). Personally, I'd love to know exactly when the casting decision was made on Audrey. Before or after this whole Caitlyn thing? But, whatever. Here she is and I'm going to treat her just like I treat every other cast member -- with a pitchfork, a bubbling cauldron, and a freshly sacrificed virgin roasting over a spit.
Of FFS, she raised the roof and then said YOLO. Hang on, I'll be AFK for a second because I need stab myself in the face with a fiery hot poker. BRB. IRL I'm just SMH, but then there's that FOMO and I guess I need to see more?
Was Audrey kicked out of the local dinner theatre version of A Chorus Line because I'm getting lots of razzle dazzle jazz hands? One more finger sizzle and the poor gal is going to launch herself off that couch and into the interviewer's lap. She's also an enunciator. She's a point maker. She pauses as if to say, "Here comes my punctuation. Here's where you'll widen your eyes at what I'm telling you. Now watch me scrunch up my face and nod at you while I crinkle my brow. That's me saying, 'A girl like me from a small town? IKR. I'm just as stunned as you are.'" Oh shut up.
Strategy wise, I never really pay attention to what these people say. They don't know the twist. They don't know who's in the house yet. It's all useless conjecture. However, the Lady Audrey here likes blood. Lots and lots of blood. She wants to play the game like Dexter Morgan and be dripping head to toe in blood. Then she's going to take that blood, save it in Ziploc baggies in the back of her dresser drawer like I once saw a bulimic chick do on Intervention with her own vomit, and, come Finale Day, she'll whip it out and toss it over the audience while jazz hands-ing everyone into voting for her. I can respect that.
Here's something I found fascinating - when asked if she wants an all-girl alliance, Audrey replies that if all the girls could sync up their "cycles" (what is it with this chick and blood?!) that they would be unstoppable. OK, let's analyze this. Audrey, you may have a vagina now, but you don't get your period. Sooo are you guys kind of thinking that she has no intention whatsoever of revealing her big secret? The more I listen to her talk about being girly and all that, the more I think the world revealed a secret that she necessarily didn't want out. What do you guys think? We've got Julie Chen crying on The Talk about having a transgender player, but then here's Audrey talking about menstrual cycles. This is going to get good!
Call me crazy, but you know you want to see the big reveal. Will she tell? You need the Live Feeds to find out!
Scott Storey is at it again. With his fish bowl full of ideas he reached in and pulled out what amounts to a plexiglass menagerie of What The Hell?! If Starlight Express and Saturday Night Fever had dirty sweaty relations, the baby they would poop out would be the Big Brother 17 house.
Let's start at the top and work our way down, shall we?
We begin our tour at the "New Hangout Area" and "Sky Bridge." Unless Barry Gibb in his tight white lycra pants is crooning sweet sweet rhymes of passion and longing into the HG's ears, I find this space rigid, stark, and the opposite of cozy. Wooden garden benches adorned with cheap sateen pillows face one another awkwardly while two uncomfortable plastic chairs flank a seemingly invisible chess table.
Drexler's swimming pool ceiling in The Killing this place is not, but maybe we'll get some pervy HG's looking up the girl's dresses.
It happens.
Next up is the HOH room. It's another weird mash up of mid century modern meets The Jetsons. I see a lot of bruised shins as a result of that cocktail table.
Now we'll work our way downstairs via what Storey calls the "Steel Wave." Again, an abstract beach wave flowing down into the Brady Living Room is a mystery I am unprepared to solve.
While we're in the Living Room is where Storey introduces his beach theme. I think I saw that palm tree wall in the Roxy store when I was in Maui last year. Why not make the whole house beachy? Now that could be fun. That's summery. Driftwood, lifeguard paraphernalia, starfish, nautical art, hurricanes, buoys, ropes and maritime tchotchkes. Oars, sails, sea glass, bottles with messages tucked inside. Perhaps a random peg leg.
And this brings us to the Kitchen. I don't even... I can't process... Is it a Morgue or a Sushi Bar? And what in the sam hell are two random steel beams doing there?
And since I'm already a little angry. Let's discuss the Lounge Room. What sort of heated and secretive backstabbing plans can happen in here when there is literally space for only 2 or 3 people to congregate? A hammock? Seriously?! If that thing squeaks, I swear to god... This is by far the dumbest room in the joint.
The bathroom usually isn't too bad and this year is no exception. Look at all that seating! How weird is it that the bathroom - where people take shits - is more appealing and cozy than the Lounge? Funky pillows, cool sconces. I'm getting a bit of a Jonathan Adler vibe from this space. That aluminum wall has got to go, but I'm not too mad at this area.
Now we venture into the bedrooms. First up is the "Night Club Bedroom." The drab gray bores my senses, but the pops of the lush deep red in combination with that gorgeous indigo velvet chair shows promise. It harkens back to one of the best Big Brother houses - the one across the pond in the UK. It's always lush and rich and cozy. It makes you want to be there. It invites you in and says, "Stay a while."
But oh dreams can be dashed as quickly as they are formed because here's a godforsaken - and completely random - "Comic Book Bedroom." Why? Why comics? Where's the cohesion? Cheap sheets and tacky pillows adorn a pinwheel floor.
Alright, let's head outside and wrap this up. What is there to say? It's beachy and colorful with lots of seating. Those basket chair things look like a bitch to sit on, but I'm not mad at the blue stripes.
And that's that! That is your Big Brother 17 House. Next up is the Cast Reveal which can only be seen exclusively by subscribers tomorrow on CBS ALL ACCESS. Be sure to sign up today so you don't miss a second of the action!
All house photos courtesy of Entertainment Tonight.
