I am a married man. Happily married. Sure, sometimes the wife drags me out to see horrible Hugh Grant movies, and occasionally I have to answer idiotic questions like “Will you miss me if I die?” but all in all, I’m a pretty lucky dude. I would never do anything to hurt my wife. Which is why, effective immediately, no more women are allowed to read these Survivor recaps! That’s right, you heard me, temptresses! Your time here is over! And don’t you even think about commenting on the message boards either — flaunting your feminine names and your charming takes on last night’s episode. I won’t stand for it! Never mind that none of you have ever actually expressed one iota of interest in a romantic relationship with me or even really acknowledged that I exist beyond a byline. That’s not the point! You’re there, and simply knowing you are there makes you automatically guilty of being a seductress of the highest order. Be gone!
At least that’s the advice I just got from my new BFF, Brandon. He says it is dangerous to be within 500 feet (or 500 words, in my case) of any attractive female, even if she is twice as tall and appears to be personally repulsed by you on a multitude of levels. He also claims that people will try to manipulate actual events through editing to make it seem as if you are constantly staring at women’s vaginas, which may or may not be true. But if I’ve learned only one thing in life, it is to always trust someone who goes by the name of Hantz.
And you can trust that it’s time to get this Survivor: South Pacific recap started! We begin with a teary Semhar arriving at Redemption Island. Poor Semhar feels “abandoned by her team” so recites poetry to make herself feel better. Funny part is, I actually do the same thing myself! Like this little jam I just busted out last week when I realized I was out of beer: “Milwaukee’s Best, it gets a bad rap, they say it tastes like crap, but it will always be my friend indeed/ The cost is super cheap, my pockets not so deep, we go together like Ozzy and weed.” Poetry slam 4eva, baby!
Really, when you think about it, the only difference between Semhar’s poetry and that little stanza is that crabs don’t run and hide when they hear mine. Speaking of hiding, John can be forgiven for wanting to do the same after his dreadful Tribal Council performance. “Tribal Council was kind of a disaster for me,” he states in the understatement of the evening. Give points to John for having the self-awareness to describe himself as an “ansty parnoid nerd kid.” Deduct points from John for continuing to refer to himself in the third person by his last name. He may want to be compared to great players of Survivor yesteryear that were known by their last name, but I’m pretty sure those players he cited like Donaldson, Mariano and Penner never referred to themselves by their last name. Would we really have considered it adorable had Colby constantly been talking about how, “It’s time for a new era of Donaldson!” and “New Donaldson doesn’t follow mommy’s advice”? Speaking of which, I’m with John’s mother on this one. I’m not so sure that dude should be handling a machete. My motto is: If a guy has trouble stepping over a ribbon, best not to hand him a big freakin’ knife. I’m just sayin’.
NEXT: A better idea for hidden immunity idols