Survivor Asshole Island: Happy Birthday, Mr. President By Wheeze

Wow, what a week of crazy news and Survivor porn. And believe you me, I feel dirty after writing this summary. I need a hot shower. Anyway...let's get down to it and get this over with.*

*that's what people say when they've been married 15 years, unless your name is Swami.
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WHICH of these stories will YOU still be talking about tomorrow?


VO: Sometimes we write and the best we can write is worse than mediocre. Sometimes, these summaries just write themselves. And other sometimeses, we journalists are given the gift of a tragedy of epic proportions—



---no,not that tragedy, but another –



-- yes, another so horrifying that in order for a journalist to portray the truth in its purest form, she must BECOME ONE WITH the tragedy, herself.

And so your Wheezy*, Panamanian Correspondent on Southern and Latin American Zombies, Undead, and Future Mass Murderers, brings you Way Too Close and Much Too Personal with the Nuckyucks on Asshole Island. Wheezy, wanting to “become” the “tragedy,” reports from the “mouth” of the proverbial “cave” of insanity… deprived of cigarettes for the sake of her art. And on the verge of quitting absolutely everything. Wheezy?

*who is, indeed, giving you a sweater.
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Wheezy: Well, VO, everything except smoking. It’s too late to quit that. I done been quit already, three sleeps. And even though my mouth tastes as minty as the frosting on a toothpaste cake, I’m spitting nails at any dolt who...well, pretty much any dolt, regardless.

Yes indeedy, today I AM the jeopardized answer to “What is a four letter word for Shane?” And if I call him Shawn sometimes, or Jack Torrance, or Jack Effing Nicholson Stomping on a Goddamn Crack in the Sidewalk, you will deal with it. And shut up about it. Or die.


SNAKE MAIL:
If you move, I strike,
and if you do not move, I strike.
Oh, foolish people,
who killed my Nag!
--R.Kipling

But first, we dance for the dead.

Previously on Asshole Island: Teams merged into three groups: Team COBRA*, Team Shining, and Team Bruce. Young men torn between older men and younger women. Miyagi played Hardy Boys at Skull Mountain. Shane quit American Idol but Simon gave him another chance. Melinda Goodhair went home to bore her dog some more.**

*Career Overachievers and the Breast Reduction Alliance
**Not code
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THE TRIBES

Team Cobra is a triple half-caf vanilla chai, easy on the fluff, cherries double-upped, seasoned, hold the shave. Blended. A barista’s hot, wet dream.* It's pretty, like this:

Sally/Austin
Misty/Ruth-Marie/Nick
Dan Terry

Team Shining is the acrid dregs of burnt Folger’s seared to the bottom of last Friday’s glass Bunn coffee pot in the dirty kitchen at the office where Dweeze works; repulsive, yet mysteriously irresistible enough to make you want to poke it.**

Courtney, Danielle, and Cerie make up the BBB.*** Arashole, Shanehole, and Silent Bob…I am speechless regarding this disparate gaggle.

Team Bruce.****

*not like that.
**or that
***Big Boob Brigade
****Joins Team Shining for challenges
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Okay, moving on already, goddamit.*

*the dotted lines symbolize vicarious cigarette breaks. Thank you, whoever took one for the team here.
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Right. So over at Camp COBRA, you’ll remember that Spank-My-Ass-and-Call-Me-Sally chucked the spear into the deep, oh so very deep sea of blowfish, while Famous Writer Heywood Jablowme gets his bones rubbed by Punky “Pepper” Brewster. Some girls just have it, use it, flaunt it, and win Survivor with it, she confesses. Right you are, Pepper – there was…well there was…Twyla. Almost. I can't think of anyone else, can you? Anyway, I’m surprised anyone lets li’l Punky Pepper (not to be confused with her Team COBRA consanguineous counterpart, the whacky-haired ‘Freckles’) near them. She might be contagious.*

And down at the Overlook Hotel, Miyagi comes back to stay (!), washes everybody’s t-shirts, and tells them he is the ‘most important person of everybody’. Did you know he taught high school for 34 years? He also taught karate 40 years, and camped in the wilderness for 30 years**. Damn, he looks fine for 104. But Shanehole is the only one who will admit the truth: Miyagi is neurotic. Arashole shrugs and gulps some t-shirt water, and Freckles argues with the sensei, while being in complete agreement with him. Silent Bob makes his first appearance.

*Freckled persons are not a protected group, according to the Civil Rights Act of 1969.

**And when he finally took notice of his surroundings, he slapped his forehead, crying, “DOH! I’m surrounded by Jews.” Since there were ten more years before anybody was going anywhere, thus spake the LORD, he penned a few Israeli-Hawaiian-Martial Arts Spirituals: “Let My People Go (kick some butt),” “Ten More Years of Sand and Tears,” and my personal favorite, “Canaan, Cannon, YAWEH, Jesus; Christ! Can’t We All Be Friends?”

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Crawling, like a giant snail, back to COBRA Camp we go. Ruth-Marie cracks rocks and eats them. Punky gags in the hot snail* breakfast, improving its flavor somewhat. Nick says they are starving, and if they had two fish**...’they would be a whole different ball game’. Welcome to the sandlot, kids. Nick and Jablowme go fishing. Poorly. They yell. They lose fish. They mourn the damn spear that Sally rode to hell. They are starving.*** All they can catch is poisonous Puffer fish.****

*no snails were hurt in the filming of this reality show
**five loaves wouldn’t hurt, either
***You want I should give you something to complain about? Shut.Up.
****If only you had Miyagi on your team to strain them through some t-shirts for you.

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Finally, Terry catches Nemo and the COBRAs feel the meat, and eat it.

At the Reward Challenge: Bruce Bruce Bruce. Why, it’s Bruce Almighty.
Bruce is a Sayv-yuh, says that Boston chick who also happens to be Diamond’s best friend. I think we shall call her Boston Rawbin.

BREAKING NEWS: IN A MIDDLE-OF-THE-NIGHT SECRET SENATE MEETING, THE REPUBLICANS CUT TREE MAIL FROM THIS YEAR’S BUDGET.

Instead, we present a new, low-budget column, called Dear Shane.

Dear Shane,

Does Survivor have to pay royalties to the band every time your BOSTON tattoo is shown on TV and the Internet? Just curious.

Sincerely,

KANSAS
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BALLS IN A SLING – THE REWARD CHALLENGE

Instructions: Put your balls in a sling. Send them sailing. Pop somebody on the head with ‘em. Do not refrigerate. Keep out of reach of small children. This contest does not discriminate against traditional ball-lessness, size or texture – only ethnicity, age, and dicks named Cheney. Boobs are invited to participate.

Team Shining reads the rules and immediately segregates. Silent Bob, Orpah* and Miyagi are the ball-slingers, and the whiteys mount the log to await the descending testicles.

Team COBRA has Pepper, Ruth-Marie and Dan as slingers, leaving the judges puzzling over which rule, exactly, they were breaking. The rest of the COBRA team climb America’s hobby horse and play polo.

Orpah pops her blowhole, spewing balls across the ocean.
Pepper takes her thyme before assaulting. Dan pulls his balls off his chin, shoots, and kills Kenny.** Jiffy murmurs things like, ‘you’re up, so shoot’ and ‘that fell right in your lap,’ and ‘ready, aim, shoot.’ It gets so deep I’m finding it hard to swallow.

* no, that's not a typo. It's more of a melding.
**you bastards!
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Okay, seriously. I’ll stop now. This is the same damn boring-ass game we played at The Cottage in Fremont, only we used rocks. Real clever, MB. Somebody wins, I don’t remember who. And they win something unfoodlike in appearance.

But the REALLY EXCITING PART is where Team COBRA gets to send somebody from the other team to Skull Mountain, and Shanehole utters a threat.

“We choose Miyagi-san. Him leader. Without him, you will crumble,” says Terry in his best Miyagian.

(now, here comes the threat)

Shane’s lip curls. He snarls menacingly, “You’re playing for keeps, huh.”

I swear on my son’s life he really said that. So off they go to their camps. Team Bruce heads back home to Skull Mountain, just in time to find another giant leaf with which to protect himself. Because guess what? It’s probably going to rain.
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Team COBRA, who won the reward, unwraps their dry goods and tarps* the shelter, which conveniently was designed by an astronaut and build like the Superdome. They are certain it will withstand a category five. Which, coincidentally, occurs. They take a minute to think about Bruce. But only a minute, until the feeling goes away.

*used here as a verb
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Team Bruce reminds the world that he’s spent more time on the island than with any tribe. Weeeell, that’s what you get for being your ownself’s tribe. Don’t bring me down, Bruce. No, no, no, no, no.

We do not see or hear anything about a clue as to the whereabouts of the immunity idol.

Team Shining whines about losing Miyagi. Freckles slurs, “Ah tho’t it was onna the worst things anabody could do.” Yeah, that's pretty harsh. She fiddles endlessly with the pot until I want to jump through the TV and fix the damn thing for her.*

And then, something very strange happens.

*that means I probably better call my quit buddy.
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REDRUM

While Freckles worrys over the pot of boiling water, ‘trying to figure out what to do’ with it, Shane sits poised on a stump he calls, “Shane’s Thinking Seat.”* After he declares that no one may sit on his thinking seat (please, he adds), Orpah and Boston Rawbin grin, and Freckles apparently steps on Shane’s last nerve when she says, “Why is that your seat?”

I beg your pardon? How dare you ask such a rude question. Shane goes batshit insane at Freckles. He screams, “Because I picked it! YOU WANT THIS ONE, I’LL GO GET ANOTHER ONE!! I WANT ONE! THIS ONE! IF YOU WANT THIS ONE, I’LL GO GET ANOTHER ONE—I JUST WANT MINE!”**

*not to be mistaken for Steve’s Thinking Chair. Totally different show.
**I started doing this too, and it’s very effective.
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And then he spits. Freckles goes back to her fussing over the boiling pot. It appears she can’t figure out how to get it off the fire without getting Skupined. Shanehole approaches and stands menacingly, axe in hand, hair strands in place. But he knows this is not the time. They quibble again, he helps and she butts in telling him how to do it after she spent ten minutes begging him for help, and he’s done. He walks off stiffly into the woods, hopefully to take a dump or smoke a stick or something.

Arashole confesses he’s aligned with three nutballs. You know what I’m thinkin’ he is, right?

Orpah confesses ‘neener neener neener, you’re all stupid.’

Freckles confesses that she doesn’t think she did anything wrong. She’s frustrated.

And I find it incredibly amusing that the fire dancer can’t handle a pot of boiling water.
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Tall-eyed crabs* skitter across the wave’s edge at COBRA, as Pepper and Sally chat with my homefry Nick and famous author, Heywood Jablowme.** Pepperspray is using her natural born gift of sexing her way to winning, and Spank Me Sally plays the innocent in this tag-team recruit effort***. We’ll see if this dynamic duo of dames can work the seasoned macho-campers, who appear to be intent on looking busy doing nothing.

Heywood confesses that everybody loves him and trusts him. This island is his, baby. And even if he doesn’t win, he’s gonna make the big bucks off this. Look for his book, “Heywood Jablowme on Asshole Island,” coming this fall to a bookstore near you.

*seriously
**well?
***coincidentally, back home they wear white shirts, black pants, and ride their bikes from house to house, knocking on doors at 8 a.m. Yep, you guessed it. They’re the Elias Brothers’ Traveling Busboys.
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And now, the PORN FEST you’ve all been waiting so patiently for. Can I get an Amen? Ah, hell. You saw it. It was the most boring challenge ever. TJ couldn’t be bothered to get me any photos, even. So I’m gonna skip right over that and go to:

TRIBAL COUNCIL! WOO HOO!

The team marches slowly, each in his own world of wonder about the fate that awaits under the glow of hot, flickery, lickery torches and thick, hard-as-stone…

WHAT!*

*you want porn, you’ll get it. In exchange for a carton of Canadian-born DuMaurier’s, regular regular. Not lights, not ultra lights, not kings. And a lighter.
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All right, it’s time for DEAR SHANE:

Dear Shane,

If you skewer yourself to death, I will give you a cigarette and show you my oobies.

Always,

REDRUM
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PORN FEST

There are five poles* in the sand. Or six. Who cares. Buried in the sand at the base of the poles are … something. Who cares! The object of Porn Fest** is to tackle people and let brutal animal instinct kick in. That’s it.

Team Bruce stops by to see if the other kids can play. Orpah wears a concealing pink hotshirt of Jebus, oh thank Him on high.***

*and two belgians, but who’s counting.
**known as Porn Fester in some circles.
***nope, not funny the second time.
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Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?
Round One: Women on Women
Boston Rawbin and Orpah vs. Smack Me Sally and Punky Pepper Pants

The women run to the pole and start digging. Pepper and Rawbin get busy and Miyagi cheers them on…probably not even sure he remembers who is on his team. Who cares! Arashole bites his pinky in anticipation, as the men shout ‘Sit on her!’ ‘Get on top of her!’ Orpah beaches on Smack Me Sally, and things start getting rough when the bag is pulled from its grave.

Orpah turns it on and plants her gelatinous cheeks firmly on the protuberances of the others. In time, all four are jockeying for position. Pepper, not your run-of-the-mill wimp, cracks down on Orpah. Terry pops a … grin over Rawbin and Sally rolling in the sand. Arashole feels tingly all over and gnaws on 6 of his remaining fingers. Pepper goes down, wedging her head between Sally’s long, lithe quads and she screams ‘Give it to me, bitch!’

Before things get out of control, Orpah pulls everybody toward her team and sits down hard on the mat, breaking it.

Team Shining: 1
Team COBRA: 0

Round Two: Men on Men

Miyagi and Silent Bob vs. Terry and Homefry Nick

Miyagi tackles Terry out of the gate like a gelding, unafraid of Terry’s metrosexual floral swim dress. Miyagi takes on Homefry next, trying out Brokeback position #6. Terry and Silent Bob make a pretzel and tumble-bumble away. Jiffy notes that ‘Nick has position,’ trumping Miyagi’s Brokeback 6 with his Alpha 1. Women in the background yell ‘Get it up, Bobby!’ Terry sits on Silent Bob’s face, silencing him. Homefry breaks away and dodges Miyagi’s lunge, then takes the football across the goal line for the touchdown!

Team Shining: 1
Team COBRA: 1

Round 3: Two Men, One Woman (that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout)

Shanehole, Arashole and Frecklehead vs. Heywood, Ruth-Bob and Dingo Dan

Shanehole makes a beeline toward Dingo Dan and pokes him with his head, grabs him from behind and pummels him into the ground. Ol’ Dingo doesn’t know what hit him. Shane holds Dingo’s face in the sand, fingers on his pulse and glazed look in his eye, until he feels the life ebbing away. Meanwhile, Arashole is good for something. He finds the loot as Heywood facepants’ him.

Leaving ol’Dingo for the vultures, Shanehole, bursting and bloodthirsty, takes a flying leap at Heywood, tackling him. Dingo’s lifeless body shudders post-mortemly and Arashole, seeing Dingo as a threat, performs a half-nelson on the dead (and old) man.

Heywood and Redrum fight for all they’re worth, all the way to the mats, and it’s Jablowme for the score. Redrum vows revenge.

Team Shining: 1
Team COBRA: 2

Round 4: Two Women, One Man,
and one gratuitous ass shot for TJ ‘cause he deserves it.

Okay, so it’s Orpah, Freckles and Arashole vs. Spank Me, Pepper and Homefry.

Yeah, I know. Poor Aras. Poor Homefry. Who knew they could pitch a tent after all? See, they really are nature boys.



Everybody takes their time in this round. Swinging ain’t easy in this heat. Orgies are not for the faint of heart. Within seconds, Orpah gets the bag and passes it off to Freckles. Homefry sticks her, grabs the bag and is immediately tackled by…hell, looks like an octopus. “One big game of Twister,” announces Jeff, helpful-like. Sally looks around. “I like Twister…” she says to Jeff, hopeful-like.

Eventually, the Twister game turns into the chicken dance and Pepper’s the wishbone. Orpah picks up Pepper, twirls her up above her head, and throws her into the ocean. When all looks like it will never end, Arashole gives Homefry a little tickle and breaks free, running like a bull back to holedaddy Shane.

The score is tied at 2.

Round 5: One Man, One Woman

Also known as the sanctity of marriage proposal. Please vote against it, for all our sakes. Thank you.

This round is Silent Bob and Rawbin vs. Ruth-Bob and Terry. Arashole chants: Go Bobdawg, Go Bobdawg Go! But he forget the clapping part. Bad cheerleader. And guess what? That wishbone thing up there ^ really happened right around here. And while I’m being honest with you, I should probably admit that I often confuse Rawbin’s crotch with Pepper’s*. Doesn’t Pepper have a swimsuit like Rawbin’s? Is there anyone who needs a cigarette more than me? Don’t answer that. Just smile and laugh, and in exchange, I’ll give you a photo here that should have gone up in, oh, I don’t know. Let’s say Round 2. Right before Dingo Dan suffocated. Isn’t that just about the nicest form you’ve ever seen of Brokeback 17? Let’s give a little golf clap here.

*now there's an occupational hazard
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Meanwhile, Rawbin picks up Ruth-Bob and carries her around like a baby, then slams her head on the ground. Silent Bob pulls out the sack, fondles it, and Terry pulls Bob’s trunks off. Gosh Terry. You’re one of the Older Men. I thought you could wait.

Ruth-Bob takes advantage of the distraction, grabs the bag and runs like the wind. But Silent Bob slides into her tailwind and rides her back to the mats, grabbing her daintily by the shirt straps at the last possible second and dragging her, cave-man style, to his mat, throws her down on it like he just came home with a hunk of wooley mammoth, and thereby wins PORN FEST for Team Shining.*

*I knew I should have watched Mike Wizowski instead.
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Shake it off, people. It's over. Think about dead things.

Back at band camp, the COBRAs commiserate over their loss, and move on from grieving to the natural order of Survivor—deciding who gets the boot. After bits and pieces of conversations, our professional flirts appeared earlier in the day to be swaying the young gentlemen in their direction, but now...well...there was PORN FEST. And, you know. Cleaning to do. Around camp, I mean. And it’s funny...but Heywood and Homefry seem less interested now.

It appears that the choice is between Ruth-Bob and Pepperhead. And once again, the producers aren’t leaving us ANY CLUES AT ALL.

And so we head to the most boring tribal council ever.

Jeff: grabyourtorchdipyourflameandgetfire. Thisispartoftheritualoftribalcouncilbecause
Inthisgamefirerepresentslife. Aslongasyouhavefire,you’reinthegame. Onceyourfireisgone,soareyou.

Blah blah Terry, you coo’?

Terry: Yeah, I’m coo’. You coo’?

Jeff: Hell yes I am. You coo’ Dan?

Dan: I am coo’, Jeff. Thanks for asking.

Jeff: Well then what about you Misty? You coo’?

Pepper: You know it.

Jeff: Anybody not coo’?

(silence)

Heywood raises his hand: Sally chucked our spear in the deep deep ocean.

Jeff: Okay.

(silence)

Homefry: I’m usually sleepy after PORN FESTs.

(uncomfortable silence)

Jeff: Ruth-Marie, you’re old. You going home tonight?

Ruth-Bob: I guess so.

Jeff: (Idol chatter)

Votes: 2 for Ruth-Marie, all the rest for Peppermist.

Jeff: So Misty. Did you find the goods?

Pepperhead: No. I. Did. Not.

Jeff: Well fine then. Don’t be pissy.

And that's, like, the end. Peppermist says she was surprised.

Next week on Survivor: REDRUM

And this is Wheezy, signing off. Goodnight.
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VO: Tomorrow’s headline: DICK SHOOTS, MISTY ‘PEPPERED’

Good thing she’s a Survivor.

  ¶ 1:17 AM