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Rana: the deadly, super frightening frogs; last week, they were the most kak. This week, they were the least kak. Adjectives aside: they’re still kak.

They made a good move last week by voting Don off of the island. Now there will be significantly fewer toenail clippings around camp, and they nabbed him before he could go all Hannibal Lecter on everyone. One more week and he would’ve started calling Jacinda “Clarice” and going on foraging missions for Fava beans.

After arriving back at camp, Rana was pretty downtrodden. Gareth was flicking his hair with far less enthusiasm. Zayn could barely stomach four meals a day. Jacinda still wouldn’t shut up, but she was at least talking in a slightly sadder voice. Basically, Rana was in the pits. What they needed was a win at a challenge, which is why the Gods of Survivor said that they weren’t going to.



The reward was a bunch of netting to throw randomly at fish while you starve to death. Included in the prize was some flint, which is usually what you find in the clutching, cold hands of people who freeze to death.

Pretty stupid reward, eh?

Anyway, both teams chose their largest members to compete is a sort of tug-of-ass competition. In the end, Sanele’s ass owned Zayn’s ass, and Aguilla won again.

Zayn, with his face in the sand and his Triumphant snatching of the peg after he had already lost, reminded me a bit of Bobby Jon. Well, two or three bobby Jon’s stuffed into a pair of really ridiculously baggy shorts. Since there can be only one Bobby Jon, Zayn is to be called Bobbiejaan.



In all of the years that I have watched Survivor, I have never once closed my eyes. There was a moment where Judd from Guatemala was showering where I may have blinked, but I have stoically watched all the horrors.

All that has changed now. I shuddered and closed my eyes and screamed like a little girl when I watched Rana do their little Boardroom meeting scene. Who does that? Who elects a leader? This is supposed to be survivor, not the apprentice! On Survivor, leaders come out naturally.

You know, like cavemen. I can’t imagine cavemen doing this.

“Ug, Point of order.”
“Yes, chair recognise Grog Hammergrog.”
“Grog think subcommittee for advancement of rock collecting be created.”
“Ungo BungoBong second motion.”

That’s crazy. So is Rana.

Lezel: Guys. Can we come to order please? I think the reason we’re not efficiating complete integration, viz a viz the procurement of Customer Relations Based Immunity Idols is directly linked to our pro bono leadership situation.
Ncumisa: … so wise…. so… many words…
Gareth: Wait. Start again, I passed from flicking incorrectly. Damn, my technique is failing.
Lezel: We need a leader. I nominate total stranger and totally-not-my-ally, Jacinda.
Jacinda: Oh I accept! Oh happy day! What did I win?
Lezel: Well, if we win: our adoration. If we lose: um, no more sleeping on the beach? It’s a win win situation, really.
Jacinda: I totally believe you!

If I’m ever re-arrested for stalking, or for violating my parole again, I want Lezel to be my lawyer.

Ugh. If only Grog Hammergrog were here, he’d totally bash her over the head with a coconut. But then she’d probably sue him for harassment. I’d rather be eaten by a sabre-toothed tiger, wouldn’t you, Grog? Grog? Oh, that’s right: Grog isn’t real.

Aaaanyway…

I want Rana to lose because I don’t like politically correct tribes like that. Not like dear old Aguila, where it’s a free for all in the backstabbing games. They all are going to be absolutely wonderful to watch, especially Nico.

Sam: So Nico, are you on my side here? I can totally be on your side. All the way. You, me Briggitte, and, uh, whoever. Look, just help me, ok?
Nico: You look desperate my child. Don’t be. I will be in you alliance. I won’t ask much in return.Just: your soul! Ah ha! Aha ha! Ah hahahahaha!
Sam: Like, bru. That sounds a bit harsh hey.
Nico: Oh, I’m just kidding around.
Sam: Shoo hey!
Nico: I don’t want your soul. Say hi to Don for me.
Briggitte: *crunch*
Sam: Briggitte sweetie what did I tell you about trying to eat the rocks?

Incidentally Nico, or Nicholas, comes from the Latin root word Niko, which means Satan, and Las, which means Satan.

It makes you think.



But, then, it got really boring. Everyone was interviewed and said they were voting for a certain person; then the music gets all eery and we think ‘hey, a twist must surely this way come!” but then we get to tribal council and it turns out that they pulled the old double bluff on us: make us think that Sam will get voted out, and then get Sam voted out.

Speaking of the editors: which fool decided that the middle of the challenge is a good place for an advert break? Was it a monkey? A goldfish? Who is running the MNet editing suite?

The MNet editors could learn a thing or two from, well, me. And this guy:



Since the Island Rat was unavailable last week (a problem at customs about some old parking tickets and an outstanding warrant for my arrest in Guatemala), we need to have two winners of the Shallow end of the Gene Pool Award. They are:

For the cunning way he pretended to be psycho, but was really just lazy: Don!

And, for the way he threw the most wonderful hissy fit when someone criticised his firemaking abilities (“Do you want to go? Do you? DO YOU?”): Sam!

The winner of the Let This Person Breed More Award goes to Sanele for having the guts, the balls, and the ass to wear a speedo like he means it.


 Hopefully the Sound Crews and Editors will have their problems sorted out next week.  If not, well, I'll have to do what I did to the Camera guys.

 Until next time...

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