Yum Yum! Rotisserie Vulture. Yum!

Here I am back in wonderful world of Survivor Spoiling, a service brought to you by the folks that make sure you get to the church on time, Timex (Waiting for my spot ad fee from Timex). And by the folks that put the FAN back in fantastic, Coca-Cola (deep pockets there, that one should get me a really decent check). And now that we have the business part of this week’s spoilers out of the way, I can throw this POS watch away, and spit out that noxious brown stuff.

We have the latest and greatest spoilers available anywhere on this earth or any other, but first I’d like to lodge a complaint and issue a warning. I do not appreciate those PDAs between Jacklyn and Jon. Cut it out, you two. Jacklyn is my girlfriend (in my mind), we’ve had sex many times (in my dreams), usually in three-ways with Julie (in my reveries), and she has promised her hand (etc.) to me and even signed a contract (that we both swore to and signed in my imagination – still legally binding, right?). She is a bit gaunt right now, and skinned and banged up because of those horrible ordeals that Jeff puts her through (why do you do that, Jeff? Would you also slash a Degas? Step on a rose? Kick a kitten? For shame). But no matter, I still can picture my girl on a beach towel, soft waves curling at her gorgeous feet, her face softly back lit by a spectacular multicolored setting sun, and skin glistening with beads of sweet dewy sweat on her plump breasts that heave in anticipation of caresses to come from yours truly. So just back off Jon, no kissy kissy, no handsy handsy, and no nothing. Or I may have to arrange for a little accident followed by an Island Cannibal feast. I can do that. Exile Island and I have the people, place and the inclination for that sort of thing. People disappear all the time in the jungle and except for the growing piles of bones, there are no traces, and only the jungle knows what happens to them. And it isn’t telling. Because, you know, it doesn’t have mouths or voice boxes or anything.

Enough said, Jon? OK. One more chance for you, or - Screatch (finger across throat gesture), that’ll be all for you, boy.

Now, on to this week’s spoilers. My girls are piqued because of my relationship with Jacklyn and my three-ways with her and Julie, but they still produce like the troopers they are. That’s one thing we teach in the Really Really Really Raunchy Girls finishing school of Erotic Dance and Tasering techniques, and they are all Phi Beta Raunch graduates. PhD’s of love, in fact. We are the only school in the world to offer Graduate degrees in Raunch, so these women are considered world authorities. It helps that they can slither on their bellies like reptiles, and training them to flick their tongues in the air to detect others in heat is also good exercise for other stuff.

So without further flicking of our tongues, here we go:

Tongue Flicker Spoiler #1: This week began the annual much anticipated tribe pranking contest. One tribe (let’s call them the orange tribe) hid the clothing of the other tribe (known as the blue tribe) and made them play beach volleyball in order to get them back. As the sun set after a full day’s worth of volleyball, it was declared a tie, and it was decided that another day’s competition would be needed. It was a day of jumping and flopping and jamming and slamming, along with bouncing and bouncing and with a good amount of out of bounds action. Much enjoyed by all.

Tongue Flicker Spoiler #2: Those brainiac Einstein’s on these tribes finally noticed that their rice was almost gone, rice that should have been sufficient to last several weeks, and they never noticed Natalie’s noticeable weight gain.

If there is a challenge to count to two, no one will win.

Tongue Flicker Spoiler #3: A little island honesty: Kelly – “I wish I had played without my Dad”. IOW, “Die, Daddy, Die!”

Tongue Flicker Spoiler #4: Josh: “We are abstinent till marriage.” WTF, Josh? WTF? You’re gay, outside the moral code of main stream society as well as of most religions, with no pesky pregnancy issues, and you’re abstinent? Don’t you know a free pass when you are presented with one? Isn’t that why you’re gay, worry free sex?

And oh yeah, you may not even survive this Island experience. Then where will you be? Boink away, boys, boink away! But always remember, practice safe sex.

Oh well, whatever works for you.

Tongue Flicker Spoiler #5: Fashion spoiler: Missy, you think that those three divorces were the worst mistakes you have ever made? Or maybe it was that byotch Baylor that issued from one of those marriages? No lady, no no no! Those were pretty bad mistakes, but it was that frilly 50’s era Ester Williams bikini that you dug out of the trunk in your attic that was your worst mistake. Why didn’t you bring your rubber swim hat too?

Tongue Flicker Spoiler #6: Starvation is setting in. The definition lines of Julie’s silicon bags are showing, as are her Botoxed lip lines. And she’s beginning to quack like a duck.

Tongue Flicker Spoiler #7: Things are getting so bad on one beach that that tribe is beginning to look forward to the weird food challenge, and a possible feast of rotisserie vulture. There will actually be a stampede when Jeff reveals the curdled cow blood meringue pies, candied grub casseroles, and the Orangutan eyeball soup. Later interviews with Jeff will reveal that he went home that day with no shirt (they actually ate his blue fishing shirt) and with teeth marks on his arms and legs. He said that he felt very fortunate that his “soft goods” remained intact. It was very close for the Probst progeny that day, may God have mercy on their sorry souls.

Tribe puts me in my happy place.