Ah, that was fun. Here we are down in the dungeon level of the Colorado Mountain Lair Branch of the Really Really Raunchy Girls Finishing School, launching a weeklong celebration of “Poke the EPMB with a sharp stick” week. And have I had fun? YesI have. I didn’t get an eye or a ‘nad, but a got a number of through and throughs. And a satisfying number of blood pokes. Those old man hang down swinging ‘nads are surprisingly hard to stab, and his crying was so pitiful that I didn’t want to go for an eye. And I wanted to leave something for my girls to go for.

Now I’m resting my weary arm and sharpening my stick for the next go. And being oohed and aahed over by my very complementary complement of buxom babes that are also my Survivor Island spies, and who have just delivered the latest and spoilerest news. They crawled on their bellies like reptiles, they swung from trees like apes, and they boinked the brains out of the production crew in order to get us these spoilers, so…Respect!. They deserve it.

Spoiler #1: Speaking of reptiles, Trish just flicked her tongue at me. Brrrrr!

Spoiler #2: The title of the next episode is;

“Woo Hoo”, or “Who knew what Woo knew, did you know what Woo knew, or what Woos woes were?"

Woo’s Kubuki bun keeps coming undone. I guess it’s a good look for him, assuming he has no problem with pretending he’s Asian.

Spoiler #3: Now to the fatal quote of the week:

<El Jay> “I finally feel comfortable at TC this week.”

Poor El Jay, and sympathies to Tribe. I pictured Tribe screaming at the TV “Don’t go down into the basement, EL-Jay. For the love of God just don’t go!” (or words to that effect). Unlike Tribe, El-Jay didn’t understand what happens when those words are said. Good news for LJ though, he’s going to the Ponderosa to join a couple of newly scrubbed up and hot to trot female bootees who have been waiting for fresh meat (sorry Tribe, location top secret).

Spoiler #4: Sad news, Tasha got up the nerve to ask LJ out on a date, he stood her up. Really unromantic and ungentlemanly of him, I say. Tribe, being the gentleman that I know you are, you should give her a shoulder and make up a good excuse for him. A Boa ate his homework, or his grandmother died, or something. She’s good people.

Spoiler #5: This week will feature a sand bag toss. No, not a Trish toss, a SAND bag toss.

Spoiler #6: Tony goes crazy this week. His hands are a blur, spit flies from his babbling brook of a mouth, and he runs around the island like a mad man. He has plots of plots within plots involving plots, everybody turning on everybody else. He apparently only achieves peace in his spy shack. We think that that's where he keeps his meds.

Tribe strikes again

I dunno about poking the giant gorilla, but I will gladly take a chance at spearheading Tony's gnads.

Thanks for nothing, Tony!

LAST EDITED ON 04-19-14 AT 00:18 AM (EST)

I don't know what the hub-bub is about. Sharp sticks got nothing on a nice, moist clod of fine primate fecal matter. And I have the arm and accuracy to splat a gnat's eye at 100 meters. (Splatting nads is just for practice.)

Of course, given the fact that EPMB has managed to get to the Hemp State and partaken of a goodly share of cannabis, it is crucial to hasten the ultimate bombardment.

Dear Daddy.

When I left home a couple of weeks ago and said I was going to another beauty pageant, I wasn’t telling the truth. I mean I thought that that’s what it was, they said I’d be filmed on a remote desert island in a bikini while on a strict diet, and that there would be competitions. But I guess I should have read the contract.

Turns out that the diet is a nothing but rice diet, (it does work, but I’d rather have my Ramen noodles), and the competitions aren’t runway strutting or singing or anything like that, they make me dive and swim and push boxes blindfolded and run and stuff. I don’t get any makeup or spray tans or any of those little adhesives to hold my bikini top up or anything. I didn’t like it at first, but guess what Daddy, I met a boy. He’s really good looking Daddy, and I can’t wait for you meet him. He isn’t real smart, but he cleans up real good. His name is Jeremiah, just like in the bible, and I know you like that.

Anyway I got put on this island with a bunch of other people, old, young, ugly and cute (I’m the cutest, hee hee), we got nothing but rice to eat, we cook on a campfire and had to make our own little house. We all sleep together but don’t worry, nothing is happening that you or Pastor Bob would disapprove of. I made friends with this person who is even skinnier than me, and she slithers around camp. She sure is strange but so far she hasn’t sunk her fangs (yeah, fangs, can you believe?) into me.

And another guy who was a cop from New York or somewhere that pretends to be a carpenter who loses his tools whenever he isn’t looking. He doesn’t tell the truth and is always sneaking around in the jungle. I think he swings from the trees too.

And guess what? The camp counselor’s name is Jeff. He’s a man so they call him Jeff, but it’s so nice when there is another Jeff in camp. Make me feel like I have a special friend. Jeff has told me that if I ever get homesick and need someone to snuggle with at night, that he’s always there for me. Such a nice man.

I got to go now, there’s an eyeball staring at me through the leaves. I don’t know who it is but he’s standing where I just pooped, so I think I’ll be able to sniff him out later around the campfire.

Love, your sweet little girl,
Jefra.

Ain't you a good girl. An' don't let that Jeff consoler guy worry yur pretty haid none, I'm sure he's related to us somehow. Well darlin', I done used up all my words so I gotta git.

Love, Daddy.

LAST EDITED ON 04-22-14 AT 11:28 AM (EST)

Dear Daddy,

I hope yore last tooth is doin OK? And Duke that hound dog, is he still a'chasing them possums? Give him a slobber kiss for me.

I'm so home sick for some of Momma's grits and raccoon gravy.

Love,
Yore little J-poo.