LAST EDITED ON 10-20-12 AT 09:11 AM (EST)
Or “Dana sings the toilet hugging blues”,
Or, “Dana’s amazing amoebic dysentery diet, guaranteed to lose 50 lbs in 12 days and gross out who ever has to clean the toilet in her house.”
Or “Did you hear the one about the three amoebic tenors who enter Lambo Lambert’s Belly Bar, and challenge each other to a Puking/Pooping contest?”
(I could keep this up for a while, but in the interest of sanity, I’ll give it a rest. You're welcome.).
Anyway...
Hello, we are just beginning our fall fund raising and recruiting drive for the lovely but Really Really Raunchy Lady's finishing school.
Do you enjoy these tales of mayhem and passion? Do want to contribute financially to keeping this movement going?
Or do think that maybe you’d like to join but haven’t known how?
Well, here's your chance.
Once again I return to these pages with words of enlightenment and encouragement for all those girls out there that think that those passions they repress can never be shared with the world.
Because that's just not true, and we here at the Really Really Very Very Raunchy Finishing School for RRVV Raunchy girls have demonstrated over and over again that world of raunchiness is available to those that dare.
Do you sometimes feel the need to cast off the chains of a moral society and just run amok in a small town on a thunderous custom chopped Vespa? Or to raze local churches and town halls, tormenting town elders who with their calcified thinking and local ordinances threaten to throw you in jail?
Do you sometimes feel that girls don’t get to be on top often enough, or to dictate when or where or how sexual passions should be fulfilled?
Or do you often wish that men would better serve the world and the women in it if they were naked, silent, in spectacular physical shape, subservient, and would serve cold island rum drinks with little umbrellas in between their duties as sex slaves?
Do you? Well, you may be a Raunchy girl. And here at the RRVV Raunchy girls finishing school, we salute you and invite you to join us. All we require is a demonstration of your uninhibited fetishes (I judge these demonstrations myself) and a periodic monetary contribution to the budget.
Which you may fulfill by whatever means you please. Merchandising? Excellent. Hurrahing villages and plundering town treasuries? We approve. Mass boinkings at army bases? Great. In short, pretty much anything goes.
We also make money moonlighting as Survivor Island spies, and we have some pretty good inside info for you again this week.
Spoiler #1: In Indian country, the Tribes are Russ-less. And Matsing has lost their perfect man and his perfect hissy fits. They will just have to make do, and will actually try and limit their celebrations in front of the camera.
Spoiler #2: Dawson will be eliminated. She will be up a creek and forced to descend the steps to ignominy. But before she goes, she embraces the Blue shirt and checks out Jeff in a personal way.
And we hear her exclaim “Wow! WOW! WOWSERS!” as she exits stage right. Jeff just got his little doggie yanked by a 90 lb girl on national TV, and apparently it's an impressive labradoodle.
Spoiler #3: Abi will take a page from the Russell the Muscle(head) and will give 100% in challenges. Unless they are hard to do, in which case she will sit out.
Spoiler #4: Adding to the Survivor Lexicon; Awesome(less) Dawson, and Lambo Lambert.
Spoiler #5: Sex Therapist Denise will form an alliance with the island monkeys when she talks them into attending group sex therapy sessions. However, a monkey's idea (and mine) of group sex therapy is much different and much more enjoyable than human group sex therapy wher all they do is talk, talk talk. Denise is a convert.
(BTW, having a sex therapist in the cast is a gift that just keeps on giving for a snarkist, even a low-down no-good such as myself can riff on that. Which leads to possibly the only time I will utter the words, Thanks for that, EPMB. A sex therapist on the island. Why has it taken so long?)
Spoiler #6: In a confessional before Tribal Council, Kate will be at a loss for words, and she will take 30 minutes explaining in sonorous detail just why she’s at a loss for words.
Tribe posed the question, what exactly is art? Is it like a fart, except without the effing F? So many questions, so little...wha? What was I saying? Oh yeah, somebody farted.
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