The Amazing Race   American Idol   America's Next Top Model   The Apprentice   The Bachelor
Big Brother   The Biggest Loser   Dancing with the Stars   Survivor                Reality TV World
Reality TV World Message Board Forums
PLEASE NOTE: The Reality TV World Message Boards are filled with desperate attention-seekers pretending to be one big happy PG/PG13-rated family. Don't be fooled. Trying to get everyone to agree with you is like herding cats, but intolerance for other viewpoints is NOT welcome and respect for other posters IS required at all times. Jump in and play, and you'll soon find out how easy it is to fit in, but save your drama for your mama. All members are encouraged to read the complete guidelines. As entertainment critic Roger Ebert once said, "If you disagree with something I write, tell me so, argue with me, correct me--but don't tell me to shut up. That's not the American way."
"Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode 2 - "It's About Me""
Email this topic to a friend
Printer-friendly version of this topic
Bookmark this topic (Registered users only)
Previous Topic | Next Topic 
Conferences Story Competitions Forum (Protected)
Original message

Colonel Zoidberg 3370 desperate attention whore postings
DAW Level: "Car Show Celebrity"

09-19-09, 02:02 PM (EST)
Click to EMail Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to send private message to Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to view user profile Click to check IP address of the poster
"Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode 2 - "It's About Me""
CBS Big Brother

--So it's finally come to this. And she's even HoH.

--Oh, come on. Like it's really that bad. Natalie paraded around in a bikini during BB9.

--You swore you would never speak of BB9 again!

--Oh, right. Tonya wore a peanut butter bikini; what's so bad about Cinnamon? At least her bikini's real.

--She says her whole body's real. Yeah -- real expensive.

--She lives in a nice house in West Hollywood. Where do you think she's getting the money for implants?

--Hello? Have you seen the statistics for her website?

--Thanks, but no thanks; I don't do the whole girl-on-girl thing.

--I'm Officer Sanchez of the Internet Police Force; I'll be taking you "straight card" now.

--The hell with her; Giovanna just got into a sky-blue bikini.

--And how do you know this? Did you dream it up? Are you writing some sort of bad fan fiction?

--Because if you are, please include a scene where Gio kisses Cinnamon.

--Dude, just buy the Live Feeds.

--What, like you have an extra $24.95 lying around? We're in a recession. Waste not, want not. Twitter's free.

--Why couldn't Giovanna be the gay one? Cinnamon's just not my type. You male viewers are lucky.

--Not hardly, you know. She has a boyfriend.

--And if you couldn't kick his skinny ass for her, you don't deserve her.

--He has a kid. Cut the guy a break. He landed someone as hot as her with a 5-year-old in tow.

--Oh, come on. We all know skinny white guys are in vogue now. Anyone see the body on that Brazilian the host is seeing?

--Does that mean we can't call him the "Rexbot?"

--Only if he's like a machine when he's...never mind.

--I just want to get something straight. Rex used to date Juanita? Talk about an X-Factor twist.

--And get this. As much of a goof as he is, and as smokin' hot as she is, he doesn't want her back.

--I heard she cheated on him in college, and he's still bitter.

--Not the most forgiving guy, that Rex.

--Dude, you wouldn't forgive easily if your cousin shot your girlfriend and killed her.

--And the Winner for Missing the Point of My Post!

--Just know. Good thing that asshole's in prison, too. My fiancée’s part-Navajo. He might come after her.

--Right, because he has nothing better to do than hunt down every person who steps outside racial boundaries and kill them.

--Isn't that the definition of a pissed-off white supremacist?

--According to the court papers, he had to find time to beat his wife and indoctrinate his kids.

--I assume "indoctrinate" is a fancy word for "beat the hell out of."

--Probably. And he'll be in prison with a bunch of other pissed-off skinheads.

--It's not them I worry about. It's the pissed-off skinheads who aren't in prison.

--I thought Rex's dead girlfriend said black folks were the racist ones.

--Just because a dead woman said it doesn't make it true.

--So we just got done with feeling sorry for Danny Gokey. Now we have to feel sorry for the new BB host? I'm all cried out.

--And we know he's with us until the end. There's no hoping he gets voted off.

--Hmm, good point. Look at what it took to get rid of the Chenbot.

--Why feel sorry for him? Did you read his blog? It's not like he's driving a Pinto after his Lamborghini got totaled. Get a look at Jasmine.

--I'll take more than a look, thank you. I've seen her in L.A. - Rex is right. Damn.

--So...about the action in the house...Taylor's a bitch.

--Marcus just disinfected every dish in the house. I think there's medication for that.

--I bet his wife's at home saying "Thank God. Peace and sanity for two months."

--Nah, she's probably shaking in fear wondering what to do with him gone.

--I teach at the school down the street from Marcus' company. Yes, he's really that weird in real life.

--Producer just ordered Cinnamon to put her top back on. She says it broke off. She's using her left arm to cover herself.

--Giovanna just took off her top in protest.

--She did?

--No. But I wish she did.

--I hate you. I honestly hate you.

Blog Entry
Authored by: Rex Majors, stillaliveandkicking

Wednesday night. That means two things - a night in for me and a long call to IT at CBS to get this damn thing working. Yes, I know it's supposed to work over Skype. Key words: "supposed to work." I suppose I could make a long international call and just look at her picture - just a face shot of Marta. Presumably she'll let me see more tonight.

OK, finally got the thing working at about 8:10, which is about 1:10 am Marta time. Apparently it's winter in Brazil, which means it's still pretty warm depending on what part of Brazil. First comes a choppy video - hard to make her out - and then it actually settles in and I can see her sitting in a nice leather recliner with her meal in her lap.

I'm finally glad I splurged for the extra-fast internet connection - the first thing I see is that bright smile. The second? She's...well, just a little on the attractive side. Long, curly hair that she says she styled herself - apparently her long, blonde-streaked mane is her trademark on the team she plays for - and a slick athletic body that's an obvious result of years of hard work and training.

"Hey there, Rex," she says in a thick Brazilian accent - Yuki spoke with an accent, but hers was dulled by studying in L.A.; Marta tells me she's never left South America except for matches. The first call I want to make is to Derek for his translation services - of course, if I bring him in, my little athlete will forget all about me and trade this game in for the chance to hang all over a hockey player. Someone needs to remind her in that case that Derek's married, even if, from the look of his honeymoon photos, someone in a Captain Morgan costume took his place most of the time. Yes, we know you and Danni ate dinner incognito most nights; I showed Jasmine one of Danni's costumes the other day and she about fainted. Yes, that was a 33-year-old woman dressed as Disney's Princess Jasmine.

She's pretty good in English, but for anything she stumbles with, I assist her by speaking Spanish; when your childhood neighbor and best friend is Nicaraguan, you learn a lot of Spanish. Pretty soon, most of our conversation is in Spanish; I'm a little rusty but picking it up again. I almost kick myself when I tell her she's "hermosa," which translates to "beautiful" in Spanish, but it refers to a place or a setting, not a person. She doesn't let me live it down the rest of the night.

Another thing she doesn't let me live down - I went cheap for dinner for myself. She ordered chicken parmigiana (on CBS' dime, no less) while I went to my freezer and headed up a frozen dinner. And not just any frozen dinner - this one was mac and cheese. Clearly I went all-out, spending a grand total of zero CBS dollars on dinner. So much for eating gourmet seven nights a week on the company credit card.

I want to meet this girl so bad - and she tells me I'll get the chance in a month. She's coming up for a match with an under-23 American soccer team in Los Angeles, and I'll get to see her play and have dinner with her - in person. Maybe I'll spend a little money on myself. Maybe buy a new suit or something...nothing fancy; she's just...really exotic, fun, and beautiful. And an avid reader of my blog.

She asked me how tall I am - a question that almost cost me Carrie a couple of years ago; I told Carrie I'm 5'10", which I am, and when she hesitated in her response, I asked if she was a "six-foot-tall Amazon woman" (she was 6'2". It took an industrial-strength shoehorn to get my foot out of my mouth.) Fortunately, unlike Carrie, Marta's shorter than me, standing 5'7" (I had to do the metric conversion; she said she was 170 centimeters.)

I also seem to have set a new personal best - fastest time to getting a woman's clothes off, clocked at two hours and 17 minutes from the time my Skype feed started working. I'm not one who enjoys that sort of thing on the internet under normal circumstances, but CBS is encouraging me, and all this is shown on delay so they can blur it. The crazy thing is, she did it herself; I didn't ask her to do it, and I even tried to talk her out of it - well, OK, not really.

My next date with her is the Monday after the first eviction, assuming I don't want to talk to her in the meantime - we swapped e-mail addresses, and she sent me a few tasteful photos of herself and her teammates. I sent her some of mine, and her only real question seemed to be why I wasn't wearing a tie in any photos. I haven't worn a tie to anything but a job interview or a funeral in eight years, and that includes the live shows. They choke me, they're impossible to keep straight, and damnit, I'm 28 years old and I just lost my girlfriend, so leave me the hell alone...OK, I didn't actually say that last part. Don't want to look like I'm not over Carrie.

So let's see...two girls moving on, one cut. Next on the menu is Shilpa, all the way from some part of India that isn't even found in any season of the Amazing Race. She sure seems a little shy, especially from her letter.

  Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

  Table of Contents

  Subject     Author     Message Date     ID  
 Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode... Colonel Zoidberg 09-19-09 1
 Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode... Colonel Zoidberg 09-19-09 2
 Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode... Colonel Zoidberg 09-19-09 3
 Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode... Colonel Zoidberg 09-19-09 4

Lobby | Topics | Previous Topic | Next Topic

Messages in this topic

Colonel Zoidberg 3370 desperate attention whore postings
DAW Level: "Car Show Celebrity"

09-19-09, 02:03 PM (EST)
Click to EMail Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to send private message to Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to view user profile Click to check IP address of the poster
1. "Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode 2 - "It's About Me""
Backyard, Day 2

Ben looks up at Cinnamon as she re-enters the backyard; waiting on her are Jamal, Giovanna, and Jason, all seated on separate chairs on the back porch. Cinnamon looks all three over, seeing Jamal nervously wringing his hands while Giovanna, dressed in a bikini that leaves very little to the imagination, and Jason, who once again put on a tie, smile at the HoH as she takes a seat next to her newfound friend and bed partner Ben. Nothing happened. Honest.

"We need to talk." Jason is the first to speak, even putting his hand up to shut down Giovanna. "You'll see soon enough that the house split into two sides last night. On one side, you have me along with Marcus, Edward, and Taylor." Jason carefully omitted the name of the born-again Christian, who's inside at the table chatting with Marcus, knowing she and Cinnamon will mix about as well as...well, born-again Christians and adult film stars normally do. "On the other side, it looks like Jamal joined up with Valerie, Giovanna, and Cameron."

"That's all I need to know," smiles the strawberry blonde, whose new bikini seems even tighter than the one that just broke. Cinnamon looks over the well-dressed Jason, who puts out a Newport and proceeds to light another, and decides she needs a cigarette herself. "Look, Jason. I have a lot of misgivings about being in an alliance with you. For one thing, Marcus is all over Elizabeth in there, and she's nothing but trouble to me. She can't think strategically, and if she can, she usually chooses not to. Any vote she'll cast, at least in the beginning, is going to be personal. I know I'm safe, and I can put up whomever I please, but all I can do is decide who's going up. I can't force the house to evict someone. And I don't trust her."

"She's one person out of fourteen, and she has no power." Jason's rebuttal appears to be on the heels of a threat of seeing his alliance partner put up - the one Cinnamon doesn't know he has.

Err, scratch that. "I know you and Elizabeth are close. You can't tell me that the biggest whiner and Monk wannabe in the house isn't going toward Miss Safety herself. Come on. I don't buy that whole act for a minute. Wow, she's playing for her church. Every penny she wins goes to her church, a bunch of brainwashed morons who can't think for themselves, and she's just happy because her husband's the one doing the thinking for them. You're not in a foursome, Jason. You're in a fivesome. I'm not about to make it six. Not when it's a bad deal for me."

"Actually, Cinnamon, an alliance of six isn't what I had in mind." Jason takes another drag on his Newport as Cinnamon inhales on hers, a Marlboro Red. She thought about how she should have packed Lights instead, but the game is stressful, not to mention depressingly boring at times, so she might as well get some pleasure out of the one thing she can still have when she's on slop. Not that she is this week, but clearly the slop diet's not doing too much for Jason's cognitive abilities - no food also means no coffee, and Jason's left with only half his diet.

Plan B, Cinnamon ponders, would be to go brew some coffee and start sipping it right under Jason's nose, making him want a cup so badly he'll drink it and end up on the block automatically. Of course, why waste such a bold move when she can just nominate him straight out? Such a trick would be better reserved for when she's not HoH. Besides, destroying his cigarettes wouldn't work; as cheap as the producers are known to be, they'll at least buy him a new stash of Newports. One wonders how he fit two dozen cartons of those things in his bag along with nice shirts and ties; Cinnamon made room for her smokes by packing lightly, especially in the clothing department.

"What I want," Jason continues after finishing off his cigarette, this time taking a pause between smokes, "is an alliance that controls the house. And I want you and Ben to be part of it. You, me, Ben, Edward, Marcus, and Taylor. That's six. Elizabeth can come along if she wants to. I know she'll do whatever Marcus tells her, and Marcus will do whatever I tell him, so the seven of us can control the house."

"What I want," Cinnamon retorts, raising her left hand as she holds her cigarette in her right, "is to make this week my week, not about some sort of alliance. I'll protect you guys, but to be honest, you're not my target. I don't want any of you out."

"I'm listening," perks up Jason. "Who is your target?"

"Harvey," she says with virtually no pause. "I want him gone so fast his head will spin him right back to the damn police academy. Besides," she continues, "my plan is simple. He goes up, and his new lady-friend goes up alongside him. She can't save herself and save him, so we help her win the veto, put up a pawn, and Harvey goes home."

"I can deal with that." Jason stands up and heads for the door. He offers Cinnamon his fist to pound - somewhat reluctantly, she returns the fist-pound, and he heads inside, presumably to talk to his alliance.

As he closes the door, Jamal leans in to talk to Cinnamon. "Are you really going to listen to that asshole?" Jamal sent himself, along with Giovanna, to talk to Cinnamon; Taylor, his arch-nemesis, sent Jason, the smooth-talking cold caller.

"Good Lord, I could smell him coming out here. Doesn't he ever wash the smoke out of his clothes?" The words off Cinnamon's lips are only slightly hypocritical as she extinguishes her cigarette.

"So we're safe for this week, I take it?" The firm words off the New Yorker's tongue.

"Like I'm putting up anyone in your alliance. Come on. Two hot girls? That's all I need to know about you guys." Cinnamon smiles and looks over Giovanna, who, despite having a boyfriend at home, is more than willing to show the goods to get ahead. "I'm in with you guys. They wanted seven...well, they can go bug Harvey and Juanita. Or rather, they can go bug Juanita after Harvey's out of the house."

"What do you have against him, anyway?" asks Giovanna, who hasn't shared too many words with the terse Harvey.

"Really, Cinnamon," interjects the shy Ben," is he any worse than I was? You were a total bitch to me last night until I opened up to you. Isn't he just trying to do the same?"

"I don't know," Cinnamon sighs. "He just seems like the kind of person who just buddies up to me so he can try to get my pants off."

"I don't think any of the guys here are trying to get your pants off anymore," assures Ben, rubbing Cinnamon's neck; she seems to accept the rub from the Utah virgin. "Maybe he's homophobic; I don't know."

"Maybe he's never met a woman who..." Jamal stumbling over the word, "...umm, what's the word for a girl who dates other girls--"

"Lesbian." Strangely, Giovanna's the one who blurts it out. "And I guess with you in the house, there's no gay guy."

"Not it," Ben shouts out, raising his hand. "I may be a virgin, but I don't swing that way."

"Don't be so sure about that, Ben," smiles Cinnamon, playfully shoving her new best friend. "You're too much of a gentleman, you've never been with a girl, and you're not some sort of super-nerd that goes to Star Trek conventions. How the hell does that happen?"

"Obviously you've never met my mother," sighs Ben, asking then simply to leave that statement at that. The house still doesn't know his father died when Ben was 13, nor do they know about what his mother did to keep him from leaving home.

Ben looks over at the stationary bike parked outside the front door not getting any use; Edward had been on it earlier, and Cameron had used it some, but it sat empty until he went up to it to take a look.

"Oh, that's right; I was going to talk to you about exercise today, wasn't I?" smiles Cinnamon, walking up behind Ben, who isn't dressed for exercise - a gray Simon Cowell-style shirt and a pair of baggy jeans don't translate too well to fitness. "I have to ask, are you looking to get in shape or just look better?"

"Well," Ben looks back confused, "both, I guess. Kind of always thought they were the same." Actually, for the past few months, Ben had dropped about 15 pounds despite his mother's urging of him to eat more; she said he looked too skinny and unhealthy.

"I take it you're not looking to show off for the camera much." This is followed by a plug for Cinnamon's site that is undoubtedly going to be blacked out by the live feed cameras; no point in letting anyone else get free advertising, especially for an adult website. At least to be fair, whenever Elizabeth goes into any specifics about her church, they black out the feeds then too.

Ben strips to his underwear, a pair of white briefs; clearly he's never shopped for style, nor has he ever looked in a mirror while he's in his undies. Cinnamon helps him onto the bike, where he begins to pedal slowly. "Not too fast," she implores. "You don't want to get burnt out right away. Slow and steady." Ben's exhausted enough from being out of shape that he doesn't have time to think of the irony of having a personal trainer who's a heavy smoker. At least Ben's never smoked - never even tried it.

He lasts about five minutes on the bike before giving up; almost immediately he heads for the showers despite Cinnamon's word of advice - cool down a bit before showering off. He's too tired even to pay attention to the weird looks he's getting - an overweight 24-year-old couch potato in his underwear isn't a sight most of the house men see that often. Or ever care to again. Especially John, who lays back down on the couch and tries to sleep despite the Voice of God's warnings to try to participate.

Head of Household Room, Day 3

"I don't really have any allegiance in this house." Juanita's words to the head of household, who seems to be clad only in a bath towel, are met with a bit of surprise. "Sure, I'm close to Harvey, and I think that's obvious. But at this point, I'm still feeling people out. I want to make sure I'm in a good position."

"Tell me something I don't know," chuckles Cinnamon. "Who the hell comes up here and tells me to put them on the block?"

"Someone who wants out of the game, perhaps." The houseguests are, by and large, not at the point where any excuse to get out of the Big Brother house, even for ten minutes, is a good excuse. But they came this far, and most of them feel content to stick it out until the will of the house suggests otherwise.

"I'll just say it. Harvey rubs me the wrong way. Besides," she continues, coughing in mid-sentence, "I get the feeling he's really one of these super-players who can play us all for chumps. He probably has some sort of God complex, you know. Cops, especially where I come from, are like that." The Los Angeles Police Department is well-known for instances of brutality, and Harvey, being a big-city cop himself, is all too familiar with those stories.

"OK, relax, Cinnamon." Juanita tries to put the strawberry blonde's mind at ease with limited success. "Harvey's from Chicago, and I happen to know he's never gone postal on anyone."

"That's a stupid argument. The fact is," Cinnamon, by this point, is talking with her hands, and the towel has come undone, revealing that she is at least clad in undergarments, "you and Harvey are floaters. Floaters are dangerous. I'll be doing the house a favor by getting rid of one of you."

"Suit yourself," replies the rocket scientist, flicking back her hair and getting up to leave. "But maybe you should think about getting rid of someone whose departure won't leave people coming after you. It's the first week, Cinnamon. Don't get your best moves out too early."

This draws Cinnamon's ire, and the fact that she's barely dressed doesn't stop her from jumping off the bed in Juanita's face. "Are you telling me how to play the game? Do I tell you how to play the damn game?" Raising her pointer finger. "Do I? This is my week, Juanita! Not yours! If you wanted to be up here, you should have won!"

"I'm not about to argue with you on this," replies a much calmer Juanita, clearly not interested in fighting. "You can do whatever you want."

"Damn right I can!" shouts the raving-mad actress, grabbing her tank top and throwing it on the bed. Juanita storms out, and Cinnamon takes her headphones and puts them over her ears while she looks up at the pictures on the wall.

As she's gazing at the picture of Candy, her girlfriend, a tall, dark-skinned beauty who's shown from the neck up only except in one picture where she's strategically covered by a tree branch and her left arm, Cinnamon contemplates heading out to the yard for a cigarette, but decides to enjoy a few more minutes of solitude before the next person comes upstairs to try to kiss her ass.

But before she can finish that thought, the buzzer to her room sounds, and she invites the mystery person in, hoping to some higher power it isn't Jason or Harvey.

As the door shuts, the voice is unmistakable. "Do you know what that asshole did to me downstairs?" The Texan pops a squat on a plush chair facing Cinnamon.

"Oh, hey, Val," replies a surprised Cinnamon. Mostly, only close friends and family members call Valerie by her nickname, a habit her alliance partners have gotten in. To Cinnamon, it's a way of making the forty-something paramedic feel more comfortable with her. After all, Cinnamon won't be Head of Household next week, and who knows whose ass she'll have to kiss. "Let me guess. Jason?" Wrong. "Harvey, I assume." Wrong again. She starts into a tirade about Elizabeth before Valerie cuts her off.

"I'm talking about that useless piece of dog crap John." Valerie's cleaned up her language only slightly; already, the house has been treated to about fifty uses of a compound word describing a person performing unspeakable actions with one's own mother. She may not drink, smoke, or use drugs that don't come from a pharmacy, and she prides herself on her 765 credit score, but she has a lot of trouble controlling her sailor's mouth.

"What are you getting at? I don't follow." Playing dumb, of course, Cinnamon is fully aware Valerie's about to ask her to nominate John, a thought that hadn't crossed Cinnamon's mind if for no other reason than that she's not sure there's a John on this season.

"He's pretty much taken over the living room, and all he does is lay around and not talk except to tell everyone else to shut up." Well, to be fair, he does have to sleep somewhere. Valerie politely suggested he sleep in the sauna room, where there's a futon, but John was having none of it. "When I told him he should go sleep on the futon, he called me some names that even make me blush. And I've heard just about all of it."

"He's not a threat," Cinnamon replies, taking the devil's advocate.

"Maybe not in the game, but to our sanity, he is. He even shouts at us to shut up when we're talking nicely in the kitchen or the dining room. It's like he thinks he's at home and can tell his wife and kids to shut up." Not that Valerie's aware of it, but John's usually around a bunch of noise at work, and with no work to do, he's gone into what a baseball player once called Operation Shutdown.

Then comes the Voice of God, this season a woman. "John, please go to the Diary Room."

"This ought to be good," laughs Valerie. She and Cinnamon leave the HoH bedroom and look down over the railing; to their left are Taylor and Ben playing chess.

John, still on the couch laying flat, seems to have no intention of budging. The Voice of God repeats. "John, please come to the Diary Room--"

"Can't a man sleep?" shouts an angry John. After being prodded one more time, he storms into the Diary Room, with Cinnamon and Valerie above barely able to contain their laughter. Taylor, dressed in all black and still sporting her trademark stilettos, doesn't even try.

  Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Colonel Zoidberg 3370 desperate attention whore postings
DAW Level: "Car Show Celebrity"

09-19-09, 02:05 PM (EST)
Click to EMail Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to send private message to Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to view user profile Click to check IP address of the poster
2. "Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode 2 - "It's About Me""
Diary Room, Day 3

"John, it's Allison," and a shocked expression on John's face follows as he realizes he's speaking to Allison Grodner, executive producer of Big Brother. "We have repeatedly asked you to participate and get up and do things."

"What do you want from me?" asks an exasperated John, his top two buttons undone on his button-down shirt. "I don't fit in. I don't have anything in common with anyone. And I'm on slop. Even worse, I have nowhere to sleep. I got two hours of sleep the first night and I've been trying to catch up since." Sure, he goes on less sleep than that on almost a daily basis, but on those days, he has adrenaline to catch him up. This is, in John's eyes, something of a vacation, something he's usually disinclined to take.

"Well, try to find a way. If you go out, go out fighting. Just do something. We can't have you taking over the living room and telling everyone else to shut up. I know you're accustomed to living alone. You live with thirteen other people here. Get used to it." Allison's tone seems to be getting firmer and more direct, and John, used to taking orders at work, seems to understand.

"While I'm here," he asks, "do you need anything else? Any new game twists I need to be aware of?"

"Don't get too anxious, John." This time, Allison seems to be trying to end the conversation. "I don't want to hear any more complaining about the houseguests' talking. If you need to sleep, go find a quiet place to do so. Besides, you shouldn't be too upset about slop. Three more weeks on slop and you've accomplished your Secret Mission." Allison knows all the players' Secret Missions, as do a handful of higher-ups, including the new host. America, however? With the exception of Edward, who changed his Mission, the viewing public is in the dark. Players aren't allowed to reveal their Secret Missions to anyone unless prompted in the Diary Room that it's OK to spill the beans about theirs to the viewers. This season's penalty for spilling the beans about one's Secret Mission is forfeiture of said Mission and an automatic nomination. John knows that there are penalties for spilling the beans on this topic, but unlike everyone else, he faded in and out when Rex was talking about it in the Diary Room. Maybe if Julie were still the host...nah, Rex was actually pretty engaging. John just chose not to listen.

Kitchen, Day 3

Harvey glares at Cinnamon from across the bar as she digs into a pasta dish she and Ben prepared - a pasta primavera with light ingredients, one that Ben complimented her on. Harvey is on slop, meaning that he's without even coffee for the week; slop restriction will be lifted on the next food competition date. Unfortunately for him, that means he has to survive this week to eat all the food Big Brother is willing to offer.

"That looks really good," he grunts. "Too bad I can't have any. Any chance I can get that slop pass from you?"

"Fat chance, Harvey," she smiles. He doesn't return the favor.

"I won't be fat or have a chance if I keep eating this," he replies, taking a bowl of warm slop from the microwave, an older model without a clock display. Sure, it's about 2:10 Pacific time outside, but inside, the only time anyone has any concept of is when it's time for a competition or a ceremony. "I need some damn food."

"Then I guess you should have earned it," taunts Cinnamon, shoving a big forkful of pasta in her mouth.

"It's not my fault Marcus and John ended up on my team. That wimpy bastard gave up without Ben even swinging." He didn't need to remind Ben of that.

"Maybe you should have been nicer to me, you know." He sort of tried, but the "What the hell did you just say?" answer to her insult of him has bugged Cinnamon. "All I did was call you a pig--"

"Like I don't hear that a thousand times a day." Well, he is a cop, after all. "I pull people over and tell them they were speeding or they have a taillight out or something, and all I get is, 'I pay your salary, pig.' It gets a little old." Of course, Harvey hasn't actually done traffic duty in a few years; theft, kidnapping, and armed robbery are his fortes. Anything they may need a negotiator for. "Being a cop is about all I know. I don't have a big, fancy college degree." Unfortunately for him, neither do Cinnamon or Ben, and Ben really wanted one.

"OK, I'm sorry I called you a pig." She seems sincere enough. "I forgot you were a cop. I didn't remember everyone's jobs right off, and frankly, dealing with the finest in Los Angeles when my girl gets pulled over for a DWB offense is frustrating as all hell." This gets Cinnamon thinking for a moment about how hot Candy looks in that Corvette she bought her.

Harvey seems to understand. Ben, on the other hand, asks for a translation of the term "DWB," something Harvey provides. "Driving while black," as Cinnamon fumes. At least she flashed some skin to the judge to beat that ticket Candy got for supposedly running that light. "What kind of car does your girlfriend drive?"

Got to think up a lie quickly. "A Subaru that her last girlfriend bought her." That part was sort of true; Candy seemed to own more cars than anyone in L.A., and with her charm, she's bought none of them.

"So, what exactly does your girlfriend do that gets her all these cars?" Harvey seemed perplexed that people can just buy each other cars like that - Harvey's been taking the El to work for the past eight months.

"What? It's just a Subaru. No big deal. And at least I didn't have to buy her a new car or anything." Oh, yes, she did. And it had to be a red Corvette. A hotter car than the black Corvette that the girlfriend before last bought her.

"So...she can't buy it herself? She just mooches off other people?" Said by someone who doesn't understand this concept of people giving each other presents.

"What the hell are you saying, Harvey?" Clearly annoyed. Not backing down.

"I just don't see," he sighs, "how someone just gets other people to do things for her like that. I bet she sits around all day and eats bon-bons, too."

"Pretty much," she smiles. "I don't make much, but it's enough for both of us."

"Sure it is." Something clearly set off in his mind. Something doesn't add up. "Now I get it. She's some dumb 20-year-old stripper groupie who lives off other people's kindness."

"Go to hell, Harvey." Shoving the pasta in her mouth, in case Harvey forgets he can't have any. "She's 32 and a hell of a lot smarter than you. You're just trying to get under my skin, and I’m not having any of it. It's all just a game to you. And I'm not about to let it bother me."

"Look, I didn't--"

"I don't care." Walking away, leaving her dishes there for someone else to do. "I don't care." Ben joins her, heading for the backyard and more workouts. Only this time, Jamal has been kind enough to lend him a pair of basketball shorts to wear along with a tank top.

Blog Entry
Authored by: Rex Majors, stillaliveandkicking

The first thing I asked for was the name of the idiot who wanted John on the show so badly that he repeatedly seemed to hear "yes" when John repeatedly said "no." We get it, John; you don't want to be here, you want to get back to work, and you probably make more then anything but the first-place prize in two months at your job.

At least it's a bit of a relief that most of the interesting people this season have applied. Jason was a recruit, as was Giovanna, but Giovanna actually sent in a tape that we overlooked previously. Cinnamon's tape...well, let's just hope for our sake it doesn't leak out. We'll have every family group on our collective backside over it. Frankly, I've gotten enough hate mail from conservative groups for the fact that she was even cast - I get it, she has an adult Web site, she does naughty things with girls, and she's a former stripper. We can't put a house full of Marcuses and Elizabeths in the house every season. That would be boring, and only a handful of people would watch it.

I'm actually a little sick of getting mail at all; it seems like every day, some idiot sends a piece of hate mail my way, and one person even sent a packet of some powdery substance designed to look like anthrax. He designed it to look like some Islamic terrorist sending me a threat about behaving "morally." Just one problem - the substance in the envelope was Arm and Hammer litter box deodorizer, and I'm pretty sure I smelled bacon grease on the paper. I kept the letter, in case I got down on myself and needed a laugh.

Now back to my life of immorality, or something like it. Ten dates in ten days with ten different women. There really wasn't much to speak of with my Thursday date; Shilpa was almost unwilling to speak. I had to do all the talking, and the answers she gave me were brief; she never even looked me in the eye as I talked to her.

I got out of her that she wasn't sure if she should honor her family, head back to India, and marry the man her parents have chosen for her or if she should stay here and live her own life. Naturally, I advocated the latter, and that got the most debate out of her; she frantically defended her family. Whatever gets her talking. At least she didn't storm out of the date or anything; I told her I wanted to see her again, even if I knew there was a chance she would end up going back home anyway.

I gave her another chance because she actually opened up to me at the end; I wanted to learn more. It's as if she's playing hard-to-get, which is intriguing but not much of a long-term strategy. but it was the shortest date of the ones I've had so far, even the one I cut short earlier this week.

Besides, nominations were today, and I had to get back to my live feed for the fallout. Also, the first America's Choice vote is out after the premier - what kind of pets do they want to give the house? Either they get the reptile variety, the small mammal, or the miniature bird. After about a hundred text votes, the birds are in the lead.

Backyard, Day 4

"All I'm saying," says Marcus, a little anxious, "is that we have to put pressure on Cinnamon to put up someone from the other side. There are five of us. We need to stay strong."

"It's taken care of," assures Jason. "I've told you a million times, Marcus. She's not putting any of us up. There are floaters, and we all hate floaters." He pauses again to take another drag on his cigarette, a habit Marcus finds disgusting but puts up with because he'd rather feel safe with a chain-smoking telemarketer than feel in danger with whoever Cinnamon goes after. "Cinnamon joined up with Ben, and they seem to have joined up with that mish-mash of an alliance that three girls and Jamal put together," glaring at Taylor with the last phrase.

"Don't look at me," she demands. "I tried to get him on board. It's like the only way he'll give me any attention is if he's trying to stab me in the back." She continues on about her ongoing point - the one where Jamal cheated with that taller, more voluptuous woman in Biloxi right after he got back from the Race. She even suspects he and a fellow Race contestant had something going on, but no one dares speak ill of the host's deceased girlfriend and Jamal has never shown any attraction to women of races other than his own. She bemoans her luck of being stuck in the house with a bunch of guys who are either married, repulsive, or not giving her the time of day - Edward's fully aware Taylor thinks he's attractive, but he's quite married, thank you.

Jason goes back to his previous point. "What did you say to him, anyway?"

"I did the same thing that usually worked when we were dating, and for whatever reason, he wasn't responsive." Well, he kind of was - Taylor has a bit of a domineering personality with her ex, and if she wanted something done, she got it. All she's gotten so far, and she's still having trouble believing he hasn't contradicted her story, is that he's kept his mouth shut about her infidelity. "Jamal listens when I speak. What I want, I get. He's my puppet, and I'm his puppet master. Give it this week and he'll be eating out of the palm of my hand. I promise." Knowing Jason, he'll demand visual evidence of him eating out of her hand.

Suddenly, the Voice of God orders a houseguest to stop singing; this time, the Voice isn't coming down on malcontent John. Apparently Ben was spouting off a rousing, albeit off-key, version of "Yellow Submarine" in the shower - naughty, naughty, young hamster. Mustn't do that. The feed ends up blacked out for about 20 seconds, long enough for Ben to apologize and continue to amuse himself by drumming on the shower door - just as annoying, but not as likely to infringe on copyrights. Especially since the drum beats can't really be confused with much of anything.

"Whatever you have to do, do it," demands Jason. "If you have to suck up to him, do it." Taylor can't admit that sucking up sounds like a great idea even though it really is, even when she knows Jamal's in there fawning over Cameron. Yes, he's fawning because she's a great storyteller; neither of them is looking for a relationship of any kind, at least not after their last disastrous relationships.

"I'll get him over to our side. Then that half of the house will just be a bunch of ditzy women." Evidently, Giovanna still hasn't spilled the beans about the fact that she owns her own business, turns a profit during a bad recession, or has a genius-level IQ, much higher than even self-described rocket scientist Juanita. Everyone keeps their secrets - Harvey's not just a traffic cop, Juanita didn't just meet Rex at a casting call, and John is, in fact, an actual human being. "And Ben, who's head is so far up Cinnamon's ass that he doesn't know which way's up." Taylor crosses her legs. "And that doesn't even make sense." Right?

"I have an idea," chimes in Edward, who just joined the conversation. "Why don't we make up a story about how we heard Giovanna making fun of Cinnamon for being gay? We can talk to her about how we heard the woman praising those creeps from Westboro for mocking gay people." Ooh, those Westboro people. The ones who picket this and that and talk about how much God hates this and that. Edward does, however, resist adding in that, if the only people in heaven are those people, then he'd rather be in hell. "Pretty soon, the whole house will know Giovanna's a homophobic bigot, and we-ll be able to--"

"We'll all be able to shut our fat lawyer mouths and stop lying," comes a harsh female voice from behind Edward. Oops. Squash that idea. "My brother's gay, thank you, and I love him just as much as I do my straight family." Clearly, making up a lie about a houseguest works a lot better when said houseguest isn't within earshot, as Giovanna, clad in a black tank top and form-fitting jeans, stands over the disheveled attorney. "Maybe if you want to make things up about people, make up something people already believe, dumbass."

Giovanna and Cinnamon, unbeknownst to Edward, already had that conversation - and much to Cinnamon's disappointment, Giovanna's straight. Damn. Oh well; there's always Cameron. Ah, Cameron. Such a nice girl.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything by that, G," smiles Edward, forgetting that only Giovanna's friends and her boyfriend's 5-year-old son can call her anything but her given name or Madame.

"The hell you didn't, Eddie." I guess two can play at that game. "If you jerks are going around making things up about people, at least make things up people can believe. For one thing, I see a lot more people out of this crowd that are probably homophobic than anyone I hang out with." Glaring at Elizabeth, who's never really gone into her views on homosexuality but has blasted Cinnamon for her career choice and dating a woman who, by all accounts, seems to be allergic to wearing clothes. "I'll give you one chance to apologize, or I'll talk to Cinnamon and we'll have your asses out of here so fast your collective heads will spin."

Edward puts his head in his hands and then looks up at Giovanna, who is still unamused.

He makes a fist and places it delicately in his hand.

"I'm sorry." The only words he can muster. "It's just...hard to explain. It's like word vomit. The words just come out whenever I get an idea sometimes, and I run with it." Giovanna's arms are still folded. "Even my wife yells at me about that. It's my biggest fault. Please," and at this point, he's practically begging, "don't let your fault be an inability to forgive."

"Whatever." Giovanna walks away, her hands thrown up. Enough is enough.

"Just give her some time," soothes Elizabeth. "I'll go talk to her in an hour. I know you didn't mean it." All that's missing from this clique of five is a nickname. Team Christ was already taken by the season that never happened - and not the one with one-legged Eddie and Chicken George.

But at this point, Jason Plus Four's token egghead is almost in tears for what he said to Giovanna.

  Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Colonel Zoidberg 3370 desperate attention whore postings
DAW Level: "Car Show Celebrity"

09-19-09, 02:07 PM (EST)
Click to EMail Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to send private message to Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to view user profile Click to check IP address of the poster
3. "Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode 2 - "It's About Me""
CBS Big Brother

--Wow. Giovanna's pissed.

--Well, it was about time someone decided that making things up was a sound strategy.

--And it was about time it backfired.

--Giovanna just marched into the living room and grabbed Cinnamon. Edward's officially a dead man.

--He chalks it up to "word vomit." He says he gets ideas and just runs with them.

--And in protest, Cinnamon and Giovanna stripped naked and had a threesome with Cameron.

--Dude, shut up with your sick little fantasies.

--Cinnamon's said about eight times in the Diary Room how hot she thinks Cameron is. Cameron's even caught Cinnamon checking her out.

--Dressed in that? Cameron's asking to be checked out.

--Get this, people: Our new hot-shot alliance of five is now called the God Squad.

--You interrupted our drooling over the three hot girls for that update?

--Does Twitter have a profanity filter? Because I'm not sure if I can repeat what Giovanna just called Edward.

--Get this, people: John just joined in and used the c-word against Giovanna. Edward's backing down, and John's attacking now.

--Damn 140-character limit. Had to cut the last post short and make a meaningless one this time.

--Anywho, John won't leave Gio alone. She tries to walk away and he keeps shouting right in her face like a drill sergeant.

--Well, at least he said something.

--TPTB said to participate. They didn't say how.

--Any word on if this is an attempted Quit By Rulebreaking?

--Well, he did throw his tie at her.

--That's good of Giovanna not to say anything back. Now John just looks like a bigger idiot.

--He called her a "retarded child."

--Dude, he used about twenty offensive names for women and you focused on "retarded child"?

--She said in the Diary Room she has a genius-level IQ. Why the hell does she own a deli?

--I'm from Miami, and I've been to Giovanna's deli. Her sandwiches are flipping great.


--What word would you prefer I used?

--Never mind. Edward's up in Cinnamon's room crying.

--And Cinnamon's up there looking almost indifferent. Not sure if she's buying his act.

--This is no act. He's a professional lawyer and he's a pretty tough man. And he's bawling. He's genuinely sorry.

--Who's Cinnamon going to believe? Some sniveling lawyer or a smokin' hot beach babe in a bikini?

--You people do know Cinnamon's capable of looking at woman as something other than sex objects. She's not a guy, you know.

--**This Tweet removed because it contained a nuclear bomb going off directly above the previous Tweeter's head.**

--I just love the look on Ben's face as John continues to berate Giovanna. I don't think he knew what to make of it.

--He said in the DR that he should have jumped in, but he's a wimp so he sat there and ate Twizzlers.

--I think Giovanna did a nice job of taking care of herself. After that tongue-lashing, John was so tired he almost fell over.

--John said in the Diary Room he backed up Edward to get help from the God Squad. Someone needs to tell him who's running the house.

--He thought Jason could keep him off the block. Jason said he doesn't sell garbage.

--Cut to a bunch of houseguests not talking to John. So everything's back to normal.

--Cinnamon: "This outburst is the best thing that could have happened to Juanita."

--Anyone think Cinnamon's really, like, the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and not telling anyone?

--Did you just use the word "like" extraneously in a Tweet?

--Like, yes I did.

Pink Room, Day 5

It's the kind of situation that usually requires a boxing announcer - Jamal and Taylor entering a room alone together. Two houseguests enter, and one leaves. And then the other leaves after they clean up his or her carcass at the end of the season. Taylor opens with her wardrobe, a short skirt and a bikini top, lest we forget she's wearing heels as always - she packed a pair of sneakers, but she only wears them for competitions.

Jamal's counter? No shirt, the official Big Brother male equivalent of the bikini, and unlike some houseguests, he can pull it off. If only he'd give up the smokes, Taylor undoubtedly thinks. Neglecting, of course, that she packed a carton of Camels for this season and is already through the first pack.

The way Jamal's looking at Taylor, one would think she led him up there on a leash with a taser. The way Taylor's looking at Jamal...we won't go there.

Jamal's first to speak. "What the hell is going on with you?" Pretty mild opening, actually. "Why should I trust someone that told a lie like you did? It's like the first thing you did when we got in here was throw me under the bus, and now I have to keep lying."

"For all I know it's the truth, Jamal," attacks Taylor. "For all I know you really did have another girlfriend." Sound strategy, actually, trying to convince the lie's victim that the lie is actually the truth.

"I never had another girlfriend, damnit." Pure frustration. "You know that. You cheated while I was on the Race. I was out trying to fix my relationship with your dad and trying to get money for school, and you went behind my back!"

"I know," she soothes. "And I'm sorry. I don't know why I did what I did. I guess...I was just lonely. But," and she pauses, speaking firmly, "we have to keep this up. It's been established. You cheated on me. I'm the victim. And if you tell anyone differently, I'll find out and have you out of this house so fast you won't know what hit you."

"And what's in it for me?" demands the defensive ex-boyfriend. "What are you, the cheating bitch, going to do for Jamal?"

"It's not about you," she snaps. "It never was. It's about me." Clearly full of herself at this point. "We're going to the end together. Both of us are accomplishing our Secret Missions. And then, when we get to the end," speaking in such a way that one would think Jamal's on his knees in handcuffs, "you're going to tell the jury to vote for me."

Jamal takes a dumbfounded look at his ex as if to ask if she's lost her mind. At this point, he starts chuckling, a laugh that turns into a full-fledged thigh-slapping laugh-fest.

After about a minute-and-a-half of sustained laughter, during which Jamal struggled to catch his breath four times, pounded the bed with his fists three times, and even hurt his shin flailing his legs around, Jamal struggles to speak.

"That's the funniest damn thing I've ever heard, girl," still smiling and chuckling at an unamused Taylor. "What if I get to the end with my Secret Mission and you don't? You're so dumb you'll throw away another half-mil?"

"Really," replies Taylor, arms folded sternly. "Your Mission's probably a lot harder than mine."

"The hell it is," as Jamal still is laughing uncontrollably.

"What is yours, anyway?" Taylor is, of course, well aware that players go on the block automatically for revealing their Secret Missions in addition to being unable to win the extra prize money for accomplishing them.

"Ummm...I have to get five people out before the final four, and I already picked them out. You're not one of them." On the other hand...

...and there goes the Voice of God. "Jamal, please come to the Diary Room."

"Damnit," he declares, as Taylor smiles victoriously. But it's not to be enjoyed for long. Sure, there's a rule against revealing one's own Secret Mission.

However, there's no rule against lying about it.

Diary Room, Day 5

"Yes, I'm saying completely ridiculous things to Jamal," Taylor rambles. "I know that. Not all of it's going to stick. Do I expect him to take me to the end and tell the jury to vote for me? No way."

Pausing to catch her breath and cough a bit from a morning spent smoking, eating, and ranting. "But Jamal's the only variable I have any chance of controlling. I don't know anyone else. I don't know Jason or Marcus or Cinnamon. I know Jamal better than he knows himself sometimes. And I know that, when I spoke, he listened. That was when we were dating."

"He believed me when I told him, at first, that I wasn't cheating on him. He dropped it for a while, even when his gut told him otherwise." The devil horns may be peeking out a bit here. "But I carried right on with it, and honestly, when I get back together with him, I'll carry on with other guys on the side and tell him I'm not. Because I can. And he's too dumb to get any other ideas."

"The only reason he's mad is because I confessed." This part's true - Jamal never caught Taylor in the act; she spilled the beans. "Other than that, if I said jump, he jumped. He didn't even ask how high; he just jumped. And if I said it wasn't high enough, he jumped again until I was happy with his jump. I did what I pleased, and he was happy about it. He doesn't even know I got my dad to go on the Amazing Race in my place just to get them to make money for me."

"That was the arrangement," she smirks. "They go on the Race, and any money and trips they won go straight to me. They were wedding presents more than anything, and I planne to use the money they won to plan my wedding to Jamal, and if they won a trip, that was our honeymoon. After that," and she seems surprisingly calm saying this, "he was mine. He would go to work, cook, clean, and do all the domestics while I sat around and watched TV and lived life the way I deserve. And if I can find a way to make him bear our future children, I'm doing it."

"The bottom line is, though," and at this point, she seems to be putting a little more emphasis into her words, "that, the more ridiculous things i can make Jamal do for me, the better. If I tell him he's going to watch my back, do my laundry, cook for me, and tell the jury to vote me a million dollars, then, at the very least, he'll watch my back and do my laundry. The other part of my plan," and a dramatic pause with no drama at all, "is to win him back. Apparently cheating is a hot-button issue for him. So in secret, I'll start being nicer to him. He'll want me back. I know he will."

"The reason I'm making him sell the story I created is simple. If he cheated, people will accept it." According to Taylor, she's gotten far worse for cheating than her dad did for the same crime. The facts tell a different story, but this is Big Brother. Who lets facts get in the way of a good story? "Reality shows are littered with men who cheated on their wives and girlfriends. They can be redeemed. Who was the last reality show female who was a cheater?" The girl from America's Next Top Model notwithstanding. "Besides, Jamal's the stupidest person in the house." OK, except for John. "He's completely incapable of thinking for himself. That's why I do the thinking for him. So when I tell hime to sell the house on this lie, he'll do it. It hurts him in the long run, but it helps me, and like I told him, it's about me. Not him."

"And if I find out he's doing anything other than what I tell him, I'll cut his throat."

Blue Room, Day 5

After revealing a Secret Mission, real or fake, houseguests are always called to the Diary Room immediately as a point of order; the houseguests are then led to believe that the person called to the Diary Room is now without a Secret Mission.

That's exactly what Jamal wanted Taylor to think, and walking into the Blue Room, where Valerie and Cameron await, he's giving no indication that he just lied to his ex.

Taylor seems confident enough, as she should, since she's now removed the only barrier to her plan to force Jamal to hand her a million dollars at the final vote. Never mind that the plan is completely insane; as Jamal had said in the diary room, if he wanted to give a woman he didn't like a million dollars, he'd go win the lottery and then get married.

As he plops down on one of the beds, Valerie lends a supporting shoulder. "Hell, if I were dating her, I'd cheat on her, too," she quips. "No one I know with any self-confidence dresses like that all the time. It's like she doesn't want anyone to know anything about her, so she just puts up these walls and hides behind her clothes."

"Yeah, tell me about it," replies Jamal, still shirtless. Of the other men in the house, Edward and Ben are the only ones to go without shirts this season, and Ben has been asked to keep his shirt on more than once by his fellow housemates. "It's just too damn bad we all have to listen to someone that likes girls this week."

"It's easy for me," smiles Cameron.

"I know it is," exasperates Jamal. "She's not even shy about checking you out. Isn't that a problem? I mean, if some guy was checking me out, I wouldn't like it."

"I don't mind. Whatever gets me farther in the game." Cameron's dressed in tight shorts and a tank top. "I can't exactly tell her to stop looking or anything. But I've had this chat with her. She's gay; I don't have a problem with it. I'm straight. She has a girlfriend, and I'm a little surprised I'm her type."

"I'm a little surprised I ended up with Taylor, too. Not exactly what I'm attracted to." This turns Cameron's head, since she has a similar body type to Taylor. "I don't know...I guess my type isn't what they cast for. I do I describe this..."

"Not really petite girls, then?" inquires Cameron.

"Right. That's what I was trying to say." Jamal never said he was that skilled with words. "It seems weird to say I like bigger girls, but I guess that's true."

"Finally, some love," jokes Valerie. "And I'm the only one here like that. Figures; that's not what they cast for in anything, even shows like this. It's all these size-zero women who never eat. Most women don't look like that."

"I never got into shows like that," Jamal opines, continuing about Taylor's obsession with The Bachelor.

"I wonder, you know, why one of the cable networks doesn't try a dating show with some, you know, normal-sized women." Valerie making it clear that they don't exactly get cable in the Big Brother house. Or even network shows. Just each other to entertain them. "They have it for guys dating guys. Maybe they need it for girls dating other girls. Put Cinnamon on it if her girl ever kicks her out."

"That's the ticket, Val," laughs Cameron. "Hi, my name's Cinnamon, and I make a career of bedding twenty-year-old girls and putting it on the internet. I'm a chain-smoker, I don't have any idea what my natural hair color is, and I love pina coladas."

"You'd almost think you didn't like the girl," continues Valerie.

"Nah, nothing like that. I'm sure she'd come back at me with something just like that. And I'd laugh. I have a pretty thick skin." Cinnamon's thick skin comes from years of being hounded by businessmen and being shot down by college girls. Cameron's? Well, she's not as open about it.

"OK, so what if I marched up to Cinnamon's room right now and told her what you just said?" demands Valerie, almost passing for angry.

"Just tell her what she says about me in return," dismisses Cameron as Jamal sprawls out on the bed, starting to wonder why he's selling the house on Taylor's lie. All he has to do, he figures, is reach the final three with her, and then he can send her to the jury house. She'd do the same to him.

  Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Colonel Zoidberg 3370 desperate attention whore postings
DAW Level: "Car Show Celebrity"

09-19-09, 02:07 PM (EST)
Click to EMail Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to send private message to Colonel%20Zoidberg Click to view user profile Click to check IP address of the poster
4. "Big Brother: Secret Mission Episode 2 - "It's About Me""
Diary Room, Day 5

Wearing her key, Cinnamon strolls into the Diary Room for her pre-nomination reflections on her housemates. Dressed in a tank top and cutoffs, her usual garb when she's not wearing one of several bikinis she brought, she sits down on the plush couch and crosses her legs.

"So, do you want me to tell you my nominations now or wait for the ceremony?" she asks the producer, who's codenamed a "psychologist" for the viewers' deception. She's to name her nominees at the ceremony, spending time in the HoH bedroom placing keys.

"I've already made up my mind who's going up," smiles Cinnamon. "But I have a few choices. The fact is, Ben, Giovanna, and Cameron are safe, and Valerie makes a nice set of eyes and ears." Not to mention a voice that's got the volume stuck on "all the way up." No mention of Jamal in those who are safe.

"I considered putting up Jamal and Taylor together. I thought about demonizing Jamal for being a cheater, but as open as I've been with the house about who I am, my logic might be exposed as kind of faulty there." Wait, a second. Why is she speaking so eloquently? The producer asks her if she's really in adult films, based on her manner of speaking - her background check says she is, and so do her words. "I just got really high grades in English. But could you imagine an English teacher looking like me? Who the hell would take me seriously? Life's short. I do what I love." Someone get the tape of that last statement for Rex, whose late girlfriend was an English teacher. And more than a bit attractive.

The producer drops the issue and tries to go back to Cinnamon's point about not wanting to expose Jamal's infidelity, but Cinnamon's moved on to Juanita. "That rocket scientist. I feel like she has a in-road with the host. They met at a casting call. I'll buy that. But what I don't buy is that he won't be more favorable to her because of it. That and a lot of people probably think she's really attractive." Including Cinnamon, but unlike the other beauties in the house, she didn't pack a bikini, preferring instead to swim in a one-piece with a pair of soccer shorts on.

"I don't trust Harvey," she continues. "I flat-out don't trust him. He never shows himself as an actual human being. It's like everything to him is what he can get out of it. He's not a bad guy or anything, I'm sure. But this whole act of being a cop? I think he's probably the one lying about his occupation. I think maybe his father was a cop, and he's really a pool hustler or a doctor or something. And the dead wife thing...just how many people do we have to feel sorry for, anyway?" Cameron and Valerie have both been abandoned. Rex lost his girlfriend. Juanita's divorced. Ben hasn't yet told his story to Cinnamon. Maybe it's best for him if he doesn't, since Cinnamon isn't buying what Harvey's selling.

"And that damn John. What the hell is his problem? It's like he saw Giovanna upset for something Edward did, and he felt the need to get in her face." She rattles off every word she heard him use that's derogatory to women, and he isn't sure, but he might have heard a few racial slurs. Not exactly sound, considering the Head of Household's girlfriend is black.

She finishes up without another word about faulty logic involving Jamal and Taylor, and she marches up to her bedroom with thirteen keys in hand. The cameras seem to have no qualms about zooming in on the first name to go into the key box - Ben's.

Nomination Ceremony, Day 5

The words "One of my duties as Head of Household is to nominate two players for eviction" accompany the pre-recorded broadcast version of the show, as expected; however, the only thing accompanying the in-house version are Cinnamon's repeated calls to come to the large dining-room table.

Cinnamon, carrying the key box, which holds eleven keys, sets it down on the lazy Susan in the middle of the table on the part closest to her. All but Cinnamon take their seats; as Head of Household, she remains standing.

"As Head of Household, I have to put up two people for eviction this week. I'll start by pulling a key, and that person will be safe and pull another key. That person will, in turn, be safe, and so on and so forth until all keys are pulled. The two people without keys are nominated." For the handful of you who have never seen the show, that is.

Cinnamon turns the key next to the number 1 and pulls it out, revealing Ben's name. "Ben, you are safe." She places it on the key box and spins a short distance; Ben is right next to her.

"Thanks, Cinnamon," he answers, and pulls another key, revealing a longer name. "Giovanna, you are safe."

He lobs the key to the dark-haired New York transplant, who thanks Cinnamon and reaches for the third key after placing the key around her neck as Ben did.

She turns the key and looks around the room. "Cameron, you are safe," she declares, spinning the key box toward the petite blonde. Cameron, smiling politely, thanks the strawberry blonde and takes the next key, expecting that Cinnamon has all but telegraphed her loyalty to the house.

Cameron seems a little shocked by the next name. "Edward, you are safe." She spins the key box back to the attorney, who thanks Cinnamon and quickly turns the next key.

"Valerie, you are safe." This one was a bit more expected, and Jason glares at Cinnamon as if to say she's not fooling anyone. The Texan grabs the key box and turns to the sixth key, revealing the next name.

"Jason, you are safe." Jason's face changes a bit, but he follows suit in thanking Cinnamon for safety as the last five safe houseguests had done.

With a quick turn of the wrist, he pulls another key, and he gets exactly what he expects. "Jamal, you are safe."

The young man, who has been laying low, thanks Cinnamon and grabs the next key, pleased that Taylor's name is not on it, declaring, with some comfort, "Marcus, you are safe."

Instead of saying "I know," he follows suit and thanks Cinnamon, almost relieved. Somewhat daringly, he grabs the ninth key and turns it with his bare hand, not even using a tissue.

"Taylor, you are safe," he gasps, and Taylor thanks Cinnamon while she stands up and grabs one of the two remaining keys.

With no drama, she pulls the tenth key and faces Juanita, whose name appears on it. "Juanita, you are safe." She lobs the key to the Nicaraguan, who deflects it onto the table and picks it up, putting it around her neck. It is now her job to pull the last key, which will have the name of a houseguest who undoubtedly rubs Cinnamon the wrong way.

Her first glance is to John, who chewed out Giovanna and has tried his best to make other people as miserable as he's been in the house. Unbeknownst to the others, John has tried unsuccessfully to quit four separate times in five days, but of course, the man who still subscribes to AOL and hasn't cancelled that gym membership would be ranked lower than a typical quitter, in that he fails at quitting.

She turns next to Elizabeth, the born-again Christian who came up with the moniker "God Squad." While Cinnamon believes in God, she always considered God far less judgmental than Elizabeth, who even criticized Cinnamon's choice of girlfriend as well as having a live-in sexual partner to whom she is not married. Someone forgot to tell her that Proposition 8, the gay marriage ban in California, passed, and that Cinnamon wouldn't be that interested in marriage even if it were an option.

Her final glance is to Harvey, and God forbid she address him by any other name. Her limited interactions with the cop have proven to be both frustrating and fruitless, as he seems to be treating her as if the two are in a high-stakes poker game at all times. Even questions such as "Can I get you anything?" are treated as impositions or not without a hidden agenda.

Juanita pulls the final key slowly, hoping to see Harvey's name. Marcus says a quick prayer that it's Elizabeth who's pulled. Not too many people are praying for John at this point.

The last key is pulled, and with Juanita's words, the nominations are finalized.

"Elizabeth, you are safe."

Elizabeth takes her key and thanks Cinnamon for the safety, realizing that she could be backdoored, as could anyone in her alliance, especially if Juanita wins the veto.

Attention turns to Cinnamon, who, unlike many Heads of Household past, doesn't seem to talk much with her hands. "I have nominated you, John, and you, Harvey, for eviction." This much is evident.

"John, the fact is, I've exchanged maybe ten words with you since we arrived. Talking to you is like pulling teeth from a rock. I get the feeling that you don't want to be here." Quite astute of her, actually. "This is your chance to prove me wrong by winning the veto. Otherwise, I think your outburst against Giovanna sealed your fate. That was uncalled for and unnecessary. Edward apologized for his words. You attacked her. And so you are nominated."

She turns next to Harvey, still in his leather jacket. "Harvey, I've exchanged even fewer words that aren't of a game nature. We have a lot of time here in this house, and if I don't know you as a person, I don't trust you as a player. Aside from that, you're a floater, and you could end up on the God Squad tomorrow. It's all about numbers." Sure, her statements are largely fluff, but isn't that what all ceremonies are? "This nomination ceremony is adjourned."

CBS Big Brother

--So there we have it. For no reason, Harvey's on the block.

--The guy doesn't stand a chance. We all knew that coming in.

--You're thinking of firefighters named Eric.

--Well, in a few years they'll have another cop named Harvey who's just as dead.

--Something's off about him. I can't put my finger on what.

--He talks about his job a lot. A real workaholic.

--At least he talks. John's a workaholic and he hasn't said ten words this season that aren't telling people to shut up.

--The tirade at Giovanna notwithstanding.

--He kind of had to know that those ten words wouldn't include "(Insert name here,) you are safe."

--"If I win the veto, fine; if I don't, fine." Ten words right there. That's his DR speech for being nominated.

--And he doesn't have anybody crazy enough to take him off the block. Even bile-spewing Edward won't touch him.

--Whatever the POV competition is, I'm putting John down as out first or second. For total lack of trying.

--His strategy: Make everyone hate him. Tell everyone he hates them. Throw comps. Worked for Will in All-Stars.

--Will had Boogie and was endlessly entertaining. John's about as entertaining as food poisoning.

--Please spare me that mental image; I'm just getting over food poisoning. Never eating Taco Bell again.

--Dude, I haven't eaten Taco Bell in eight years.

--John left his brain at Taco Bell.

--So that's what they put in Chalupas!

--Juanita's pissed.

--But then again, she wouldn't be happy if Cinnamon crapped out dollar coins and gave them to her.

--Would you want money covered in poop?

--I'm trying to make a point.

--You're making a crappy point, no pun intended.

--I caught Valerie's point about that show...what's it called?

--I don't know; what show? No show with a guy dating a bunch of plus-size women exists.

--So you've never heard of More to Love?

--I looked up that show - looks nice. Maybe should have picked Juanita - they cast a rocket scientist.

--Juanita doesn't fit the mold - she told Harvey she's only 125 pounds. Looks bigger to me.

--Besides, they haven't done the whole interracial dating show yet.

--So you're not watching Rex cavort with a bunch of women?

--His ex is Mexican and his dead girlfriend's black. Big whoop.

--Nicaraguan, dumbass.

--Same thing.

--No, not really.

--Well, it is kind of true. The whole dating show has been played to death.

--Men pursuing women, women pursuing men, men pursuing men, washed-up celebs pursuing women, their rejects pursuing men...

--Don't forget Tila Tequila!

--And Playing It Straight. What a train wreck.

--About the only avenues they haven't done are mixed-race relationships and lesbians. And I would think the latter is ratings gold.

--Yeah, if she looks like Cinnamon.

--And acts like her.

--Maybe not if she acts like Cinnamon. Cinnamon's a little too wild.

--Apparently her girlfriend is some kind of adult film groupie who's dated, like, five other lesbian film stars.

--There you go again, saying "like" out of place.


End of Episode #2

  Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Lock | Archive | Remove

Lobby | Topics | Previous Topic | Next Topic

p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e -
about this site   •   advertise on this site  •   contact us  •   privacy policy   •