Wednesday. Through the door and into the house we go, as the disembodied voice of Rod Serling's great-great-grandson's pool boy tells us that this house is like no other house. Cameras, microphones, chess board, doodads, et cetera. Twelve idiots will soon arrive. (Technically, RSGGGPB calls them "daring strangers." Same difference.) Confinement! No contact with the outside world! Evictions! And, of course, the $500,000 prize at the end. Because this is Big Brother, where the motto is: Even We At CBS Will Not Pay You One Million Dollars To Let Us Watch You In The Potty For Three Months.
Same piano/drum-machine/fiddle theme as last year. The composer of this music got his M.F.A. from the back of Cracked, and it came with a free order of Sea Monkeys.
Julie Chen comes down the front steps of the house, wearing a midnight blue peasant-blouse-inspired top, which I could like, and camel-colored velour pants, which I could not. She is sporting both a sparkly choker and a chunky pendant. I think the pendant is the one of these necklaces that she meant to leave on the dresser. She tells us we're about to meet the houseguests, and in her most dramatic and hushed chirp, she points out that they have nothing in common except "courage." And fame-whoring, Julie! Don't forget fame-whoring!
Here's the ridiculous Let's Pretend You're Shocked When We Hand You The Key sequence. It starts with a quick-cut series of contestant shots, including at least one of Josh that makes him look both awkward and evil, like a serial killer who wets the bed. All are visited by the unseen Key Fairy -- Danielle at home, Jason at what I'm thinking is his parents' house, Chiara at a hot dog vendor (her reaction is the most obviously phony, which is probably because her setup is the most credibility-straining), Marcellas during what looks to be a photo shoot he's working on, and Lori while on a walk with her kids. I'm sure the approaching cameras didn't attract any attention.
Amy, a large-breasted blonde wearing a whole lot of ill-advised eye shadow, is fetched from her stultifyingly boring living room, where she takes the opportunity to admire her reflection in the great big key. She finds herself bee-yoo-tee-ful. Outside on her lawn, she holds her little dog in her arms and clutches it tightly to her big dogs (if you get my sophomoric meaning), telling us that if she pisses us off, she doesn't give a damn. I make a voodoo doll of Amy and put gum in its hair.
Now Jason, the Ethan Hawkelganger, gestures at the giant cross on the front of his church and tells us with a grin that he's "playing for a higher power." His church is one of those that look like big public libraries -- very institutional and architecturally secular. Danielle stands in front of her house and proclaims herself a "classy, sassy diva." Her family looks on uncomfortably. Eric -- who has more than a passing resemblance to a buffer Carson Daly -- is fetched from the fire station, where he is in full gear; it's really the pink reflective stripes that make the outfit. Legitimate safety measure or très faboo fashion statement? It's your call. Lisa declares that there will be "no more bartending" for her. God, has the reality television cartel reached some kind of secret agreement with the International Brotherhood of Pourers and Servers? They're employing more bartenders than the Kennedy compound. ["After, like, the eighteenth bartender appeared on Survivor last season, I figured out that 'bartender' is L.A. code for 'failed actor/model.'" -- Wing Chun] As the roundup continues, Marcellas says he's "gonna do it with style." Which would be funnier if they had shared the fact that he's a stylist. Which they haven't. Tonya, perched on a motorcycle, tosses her yellow locks and tells us she comes "direct from Sin City." Gerry, in front of Woodrow Wilson Middle School (where, according to the big sign, summer school starts July 1) promises to "teach those kids a thing or two." I still say Gerry's picture on the CBS site reminded me of Rob Reiner, but I totally see the Trading Spaces Frank resemblance, too. Roddy -- who reminds me of an actor I can't place at the moment ["a beefier Ewan McGregor? A schnozzier Jeff Daniels?" -- Wing Chun] -- promises he will "play this game to a tee." Yes, he says this while golfing. It's rather unkind to introduce a contestant by forcing him to utter a remarkably bad pun like that, isn't it? He should have been forewarned! Of course, he could have foreseen it. (Man, if I had a dictionary, I would be dangerous.)
Now the editors get their kicks by intercutting Jason packing his trusty Bible with Roddy making exasperated comments to the effect that he's sure there will be some religious zealot at the house. "Those type of people, I think, are fools," he says flatly. Oh, goody, it's another "You got religious faith in my secular humanism"/"You got secular humanism in my religious faith" setup. This will be high-larious.
Lori looks a little like a combination of last year's Krista, last year's Nicole, and Daisy Duke. Well, if Daisy Duke were more of a nerd from Wisconsin. Lori looks at the camera and says, "Bring it on." Apparently, she didn't get the memo that no one from Wisconsin can convincingly say "bring it on."
Josh. Oh, Josh. Josh hails from the bottom of a large dumpster, where, approximately thirty years ago, a forgotten can of Spam developed a strange green fuzz and accidentally came in contact with the nearby corpse of a rat that had died a week earlier. Several drops of beer fell upon the two, and Josh was spawned. He tells us he's a "joker." He holds up the Joker from his deck of cards. You know, I have rarely hated a reality-show contestant as much as I hated Mike Boogie, but if I had to choose between Mike Boogie and Josh to be my prom date, I would select Mike Boogie so quickly that Josh's putrid swath of generic facial hair would be knocked clean off his face. Which, ironically, would be an improvement.
Chiara, a cute brunette, tells her dad on the phone that she's going to be on Big Brother. He must be so proud. She calls herself "the girl door who's gonna kick your ass." She doesn't really look capable of ass-kicking to me. Unless it's a fairly passive ass that's at issue. Eric says that "when the lights go down, [he's] full of surprises." You know, when that's true, it doesn't seem to me that it's invariably good news. Skinny Lisa -- whose Alanis Morrisette resemblance was correctly noted in the forums -- shows off her tattoo and promises to "go through the men and eighty-six those women." Elsewhere, my eyes try to avoid seeing Josh tell me he has "a pretty good way with women," but they are too busy steeling themselves for the sight of him spanking some unfortunate female and calling her ass an "onion." Amy calls herself "Scarlett O'Hara." And here I thought you couldn't actually hear long-dead fictional characters screaming. Eric says that if it will help strategically, "[he] will. Hook up. With girls." If he expects me to be surprised, he hasn't watched nearly enough television.
Packing, packing, packing. Lisa is concerned about going three months without sleeping with her cat, and Tonya is worried about three months without sex. You know, there's a pretty darn evolved joke in there somewhere, but this show is on three times a week, so I really don't have time for evolution. Gerry sings the blues very, very badly. I hope they don't let him bring his guitar. Leaving, leaving, leaving.
Julie explains that the houseguests will enter in three randomly selected groups of four to run for the bedrooms. The first room is the Big Bed Room, which is pretty plush and has real walls, but which requires two people to share a bed. Then there's the Aquarium Room, which features fish-tank décor and a big glass wall separating it from the last room, Youth Hostel Lite, which contains only three cots and a bench. A bench? Ow.
The houseguests gather at the front of the house. Julie greets them, and because they say "Hi" to her, she calls them "a lively bunch." Evidently, Julie grades on a curve. She gives a speech about competition, friends and enemies, power struggles, and how -- in case they haven't heard -- there will be no TV and no contact with the outside world. This is like the beginning of an airplane flight, when the flight attendant tells you where the plane is going, just in case you don't want to go to Albuquerque. Julie just wants to make sure they all really intend to spend the summer appearing on Big Brother. No one runs screaming, at least in the version that makes it to the air.
Eric, Lisa, Gerry, and Amy are the first to get into the house. They pick the Aquarium Room, and it's hard to tell whether they just missed the Big Bed Room, or whether they chose the separate beds over the privacy. The Aquarium Room also features a pet lizard. "Ah luuuuuuve rep-tahles," Amy oozes in the diary room. "Ah don't have anything made of rep-tahles." Amy's Motto: If I Like You, I Won't Make You Into A Purse. She's all heart, that one.
into the house are Roddy, Chiara, Marcellas, and Lori. They spot Youth Hostel Lite, but they don't find the Big Bed Room at first. Marcellas says they almost gave up and concluded they had to sleep on the cots, despite the fact that "that would suck." Man, you said it. Like a Hoover. Those cots look uncomfortable. With a little assist from Gerry, they eventually find their way to the Big Bed Room. They flop onto the beds, having narrowly beaten the last group to enter the house: Tonya, Josh, Jason, and Danielle. This bunch is not too thrilled about the cots. Jason lands the bench. Sorry about that, plastic monastic lover.
Because this show is all about responsibility, the very first thing the houseguests get from Big Brother is a giant tub of liquor. I mean, I suppose that's what I would want too, but this from a show that just got sued over its contestants and their quasi-violent sex play? Josh: "Well, the reason I got everybody together in the living room and I took over the leadership role, is because I am the leader." Man, don't get me started on how much I despise the grammatical construction, "the reason is because...." That makes my teeth rattle. He goes on to put on his Mike-Mike-Mike Boogie Shoes and very efficiently annoy the hell out of everyone in the room. He tells them he's a long-term substitute teacher. Everyone gives this a grudging nod of obligatory respect, but they still hate him. No -- everyone hates him. The other contestants hate him. The audience hates him. The brine shrimp rotting at the bottom of the Great Salt Lake have already heard about him, and they are circulating a petition to have him evicted. They are signing it with their teeny little tails. Like most imbeciles of his particular type, Josh makes reference to "keepin' it real." In the diary room, he declares that Marcellas was "jealous" of him. Josh tells Marcellas to introduce himself , and then diary-rooms that this was a "trap" that forced Marcellas to "play second fiddle" to him. Can I kill him now? Of course, I wouldn't actually kill him, because that would be mean, but...can I just have him killed?
Introductions all around. Lisa calls herself "crazy" twice, and that's really all I need in order to eye her suspiciously. She also talks through her teeth a lot, especially when she's thinking about how hot she's pretty sure she is. Jason's good-natured self-deprecation about being from Mobile brings the painfully predictable (and very unfunny) incest jokes from Josh. Fuckwit. Amy thinks Jason is cute. And, frankly, so do I. Tonya spills that she has five kids, which causes some dropped jaws. Lisa thinks it's "very sad" that Tonya's breasts are paid-for. Lisa believes in the natural look, I suppose, except for her gigantic tattoo. In other news, Amy pours on the drawl, and Danielle, speaking for all of us, says in the diary room that Amy "gets on [her] last nerve." Sing it, sister. Gerry tells the group he's a teacher, and we see an interview clip in which Josh reveals that he made up the part about being a long-term substitute teacher, and Gerry bought it. Uh, don't you think Gerry will talk to you about teaching sometime in the three months? Don't you think he'll figure out you're faking? What will that do to your alliance? Not too crafty, nimrod. Gerry does manage to get off a pretty good line about how he taught Special Ed for ten years, so he might be able to help Josh a little. Heh.
Eric explains that he's a firefighter. It's interesting, isn't it, how that gets almost a moment of silence now? How we almost bow our heads, just a little, for just a split second? Everyone I know does it. I do it, too. I may always. Of course, this isn't about that, so Chiara notes that Eric is kinda hot, which is true, especially when compared with Josh. Unfortunately, Eric says "rock on" at the end of his speech, and I think the expiration date on "rock on" has just about passed. Lori is from Wisconsin, and she does customer service at a bank. Hey, is that her voice on the phone that tells me, "The balance on your account is...five...dollars...and...fifty-one...cents"? If it is, I'd like to talk to her about some adjustments. Amy explains that she doesn't like Lori's "northern accent" (Lori's really isn't that bad, by the way). And then Amy says (no kidding) the following: "I've always been kind of anti- that whole north, Midwest, or upper west, whatever, accent thing." I take my Amy voodoo doll and stuff lutefisk up its nose. Bite me, Sweetheart of Sigma Die, Die, Die. Lori says her kids are her life, and Eric does a pretty funny "We're your life now" bit, pointing menacingly at her. Hee. Chiara says that her name means "light."
Now, the houseguests do a little dishing about each other. Tonya diary-rooms that Chiara seems "really genuine." Lisa, on the other hand, diary-rooms that she doesn't see any particularly strong competition. Amy adds that this year's group is hotter than last year's. I don't know. There's no Evil Doctor of Unfettered Lust yet, but I do think the nice people are, on average, significantly better-looking than last year's nice people. Of course, at this time last year, I wanted to marry Hardy, so you never know what a season will bring.
Josh tells the camera that the game is his, and the house is his. He gives the other houseguests the courtesy of admitting that they're "involved." I begin imagining what he would look like as a stuffed head over my fireplace. I would poke him in the eye every time I walked through the living room. In fact, the temptation to do that might make me late for work.
Julie returns to the houseguests to tell them about the food challenge. So far, they have just PB&J, but they can win groceries in the challenge. She sends them out to the basketball court, where they discover three big trees; each has two big birdlike nests in it. The way this works is that they each get a shopping bag, and they grab all the groceries they want from the big table in the yard. Then they climb up in the nests with their shopping bags. Each nest has to be boy-girl. The shopping is uneventful, highlighted by Danielle's continuing admonitions to "get the meat." Man, if I had a nickel for every time I've heard that on this show, I could quit my job and watch the live feeds. They climb up obediently into the trees; the pairs are Marcellas-Danielle, Gerry-Amy, Josh-Lisa, Jason-Lori, Eric-Chiara, and Roddy-Tonya. Just as time expires and they all settle in, Lori emphatically yells, "TWEET TWEET!," which is pretty cute, actually. Julie now explains the weird twisty thing they've introduced this year to try to screw with the dynamics. Because the dynamics are normally so healthy. Anyway, the deal is that whichever pair is last to leave its nest becomes essentially a team inside the house, and that pair wins three thousand dollars for every week they both stick around, so they can split a maximum of $30,000. The general rules of tree-sitting are that they can't go inside for bathroom breaks, they can't sleep, and they have to hang on to their bags and all the groceries they've carried up into the tree with them. So it's just you and your food and whatever sorry person you climbed up there with.
Tree stamina hijnks follow. There's a lot of talk about the possibility of needing to pee. Feet begin to fall asleep. The nests are just about big enough for two butts, but that's about it, so it's like sitting in a big chair together. Interestingly, several of these pairs make really attractive couples, particularly Roddy and Tonya and Eric and Chiara. Eric and Chiara figure out that the best way to sit is actually face-to-face with your legs around each other. It's pretty friendly, but it does look like the least cramped alternative. They seem to like each other quite a bit, and they definitely experience one of those hey-you're-cute, hey-you're-cute-too moments that don't really mean a hell of a lot but...gosh, they're nice. Lisa and Josh are sitting similarly, but they're not having the same friendly experience. They're pretending to be having one, but in reality, they're sizing each other up like the operators they are. He thinks she's hot. He thinks he's hot. She thinks he thinks she's hot. He does. He thinks she thinks he's hot. She doesn't. (Miss Alli's Mom: "This guy gives me the creeps.")
Jason and Lori are also getting along, too, but very differently. Basically, he's just a big old sweetie-pie, and she thinks he's darling. (Me, too.) Gerry, meanwhile, is feeling rather "protective" of Amy. Your local psychoanalyst could have a field day with this whole nest/parenting metaphor, but I'm not really trained for it. Amy is already half-hammered, and she pulls a beer out of her grocery bag and pops it open. It is quickly pointed out to her that this won't do much to help her stay in the tree, given that the need for a potty break is emerging as the most likely limiting factor in your staying power. In a later interview, she calls this "the worst decision [she's] ever made," and considering how many times I suspect she has been awakened in a strange bed by sirens, I just don't believe that's the case. Amy continues to act up like the loudest girl at a sorority party. Meanwhile, shortly after the rules are clarified that both feet have to stay inside the nest, Josh and Lisa are sent packing, and shortly after that, Gerry and Amy have to give up so that she can empty her beer-soaked system. The twangy Banjo of Bodily Function Humor follows her as she skitters to the potty. Eric and Chiara are soon similarly bladder-impaired, and have to bolt.
Roddy, on the other hand is fresh as a daisy. "I just readjusted," he says, "and I have a brand-new ass." Ha! That's my favorite line of the episode. He's a cutie-pie also. Those remaining in the tree can see that Eric, Josh, and Gerry have all tied on their do-rags, and are having a sit-down inside the house. Interestingly, Gerry is the only one hip enough to tuck in the back so it doesn't stick up in that rather papal manner that I find so unattractive. "We didn't get bandannas because we're not in the house, guys!" Jason mock-whines. Heh. The bandannaed goobers in the Aquarium Room start talking alliance, while Danielle, out in her tree, starts lamenting the fact that she has the meat in her shopping bag, and it's probably not doing too well up in the tree. The alliance talk continues inside, where Josh singles out Marcellas for prospective booting. The others agree, for no particularly convincing reason except that they think he's "negative." Whatever. ["I immediately feel protective toward Marcellas since, in his place, I would be at least as negative and cranky about my annoying fellow houseguests, and I wouldn't be nearly as fabulous and queeny to make up for it. I love Marcellas, based on the little we've seen of him." -- Wing Chun] Josh tells them he would be willing to be nominated against Marcellas as a ploy, but then he tells the camera he didn't mean it. Huh? If you tell people to nominate you and you secretly don't want them to, how does that help you? This is the worst idea since freezing Ted Williams's head.
At approximately the three-hour mark, Danielle dumps her bag over the side, effectively throwing the competition. She makes like it's about the meat, but as she explains in the diary room, she really just didn't want to be a target. What was most brilliant about the way Danielle played that is that she didn't make an epic production out of the decision and how selfless it was, which is what made it seem selfless. I am here to tell you, Danielle came to play. How long she'll last depends on how quickly the Goober Gang catches on that she's a threat, but she is a good, good player. Inside, Marcellas gripes good-naturedly about being forced to leave the tree, unwittingly providing fuel for Josh's "negative energy" fire.
So now it's Roddy and Tonya and Jason and Lori in the nests. Jason says he feels bad because of Danielle and the self-sacrifice. (See?) Tonya correctly surmises that it wasn't really a spoilage issue as much as a my-butt-has-had-enough-of-this-tree issue. Roddy gives Tonya a shoulder rub. Yeah, I'll take one of those too, please, if you're handing them out. Meanwhile, in the Big Bed Room, Josh tries to make buddy-buddies with Marcellas, which Marcellas -- to his credit -- doesn't fall for at all. Strike one, Greasy At The Bat. "He wanted to gauge me and size me up," Marcellas says, "and I was trying to give him as little information as possible, because I do want people to underestimate me, and to play me like I'm stupid."
As Tonya and Roddy readjust their positions in the nest, Roddy gets up off of his brand-new ass far enough that Big Brother calls it "standing," and gives them the buzz. So your winners are Jason and Lori, which is nice. It's like Greg and Mrs. Brady winning the first competition. Jason thinks staying in the tree made him seem like a "fierce competitor." Aww. He also recognizes, though, the risks of winning the first competition.
Gerry snots that Lori and Jason won't make it long enough to collect the $30,000. Gerry, I wanted to like you, but you are dancing all over my last nerve. And you need to get control of your beard.
Day Two in the house. Rise, shine, put on makeup, bond with housemates. Lori and Chiara discuss the origins of the mysterious wet spot in their bed. No, no -- on the pillow. (It's not that mysterious.) The options are sweat and drool. Eeeeew! Now, did I really need to hear that? There's a reason I don't get the damn live feeds. Tonya and her incredibly white teeth, however, have had an uncomfortable night on the army cot. Josh was so uncomfortable that he slept on the floor. Frankly, I'm surprised that he didn't sleep hanging upside-down from the rod in the closet.
Danielle makes breakfast for everyone, which everyone appreciates. Man, Danielle is like Nicole without the footnotes to the DSM-IV. Gerry says it already feels like a family. Yeah, on the second day. I'm sure Gerry's actual family is very flattered.
Back to Julie. EEEEK! Somebody get Julie a sandwich right now. Sally Struthers needs to make one of those weepy commercials where she asks you how you can sit there eating your lasagna like the middle-class schmuck you are when Julie Chen's ribs are not only sticking through her skin, but actually making advances on Canada. Anyway, Julie looks particularly emaciated in her jeans and her stretchy rust-colored top. It's time, she tells us, for the HoH competition. Whoever wins is the Head of Household, and that person will sleep in the HoH room and make the first nominations. We cut to the house, and she has her usual boring banter with the group. The actual competition is a variation on the same very boring competition that kicked off last year's show. The bottom line is that the contestants all have to answer stupid questions about each other, and through a lame process involving a spinning wheel and other complex mechanisms, this slowly narrows down the houseguests to a single winner. The questions are boring, nothing interesting happens, and Lisa is named HoH. Seriously, you didn't miss a thing. It comes down to her and Lori, and the vote goes 8-2 in Lisa's favor, with only Roddy and Jason choosing Lori. Dumbest competition ever.
So tomorrow night, Lisa will make her nominations for eviction. For now, she goes to check out the bedroom, bringing her envious housemates along. Julie tells us that Lisa's new role includes "responsibility." Uch. She also tells us how fascinating the summer is going to be. That seems a little overly hopeful to me. And seriously, how could she know?
Thursday. Black-and-white footage of the contestants, underscored with tense drumbeats, opens tonight's installment, as we learn that crime doesn't pay. Oh, no, I'm sorry. That's over on COPS. Actually, what we learn as we go up to color is that Lisa is enjoying the cool food in the HoH room. This is followed by a lengthy sequence regarding the other houseguests and the degree to which they are kissing Lisa's ass because she's the queen. Everyone almost seems to admit to her that they're doing it, but all are unable to stop themselves. Josh, in particular, is both a practitioner and a critic of the suck-up. Lisa seems to be taking the opportunity to feel Eric's chest a lot. In fact, she implies that had she had another day or two, she wouldn't have been alone in that big HoH bed. She is...in a hurry. Golly. Anyway, the swimsuit showcase has begun, it appears, and there aren't shirts around very often. The theme of the episode is Chests, Chests, Chests! Or...wait, is that the theme of the show?
Lori and Roddy discuss Lisa's likely course of action. They agree that picking people to nominate after a day and a half together is destined to be pretty random. Moreover, everyone mostly likes each other at this point, so it's not like Lisa can send somebody packing and get big cheers all around for it. Lori interviews that she feels vulnerable in the nomination process, because she and Lisa don't really know each other, so she thinks Lisa might choose her to nominate. After all, as she and Roddy were discussing, it doesn't take much at this point. The two of them talk about the rumors surrounding Lisa's nominations, and Lori interviews that Marcellas, Amy, and Josh are the ones she thinks are in the most jeopardy. She also says that she thinks "there might be a lot of backstabbers in the house," and punctuates this with a chirp of "Sure!" that is so Fargo it almost seems like parody. Lori and Roddy also talk about the fact that Josh is more than a little paranoid on the topic of the prospect that he'll be nominated.
More sucking-up. Lisa makes it clear that one of her demands is that she get her bed back when she's done being HoH, because she feels such a close "bondage" with the other occupants of the Aquarium Room. Oh, great. Add yet another category of voyeur to the mailing list CBS will be using to market the live feeds. Even more sucking-up. Maybe that's the theme of the episode.
Josh very stupidly says that this is the best time to be HoH, which is certainly not true. I'm not convinced that you want to be thrown into the turmoil the first week. Roddy, on the other hand, intelligently perceives that Lisa's power is going to be pretty transitory, and that although she has the novelty of going first with nominations, it doesn't mean a hell of a lot that she has power for the week. Smart man, Roddy. Kinda funny, too. Lisa, very clearly, is doing a piss-poor job of being HoH, because she's being much too full of herself about it. "No dishpan hands for the Head of Household," she quips when someone else takes over washing the dishes. Ugh. Ease up, dearie. You don't want to make enemies.
Sitting by the pool, Josh continues his crusade to make loud sucking noises against every ass from L.A. to New York. He tells Amy how concerned he is about being nominated, and how surprised he was when Lori bumped him from the HoH competition. He offers Amy some more incoherent babble about strategy, and wraps up by informing her that Danielle doesn't like her, which is certainly true. Amy swears that she makes a bad first impression. Yeah. Let me know when she gets to her second impression, because her first impression has turned out to be of a spoiled drunk, and I'm about through with that. Josh's paranoia continues unabated, but Amy assures him he won't be voted out because he's "the comic relief." He says that they would really start laughing if they saw him naked, and Amy thinks he's joking. I think he probably isn't. Furthermore, Amy needs a supportive undergarment, stat. She's lying on her back, basically, and gravity is sort of...burning her candle at both ends.
Later, Josh starts playing around with a rubber duckie, throwing it around with a slingshot. When Marcellas discovers that the duck has been violated, he carefully cleans it with a toothbrush while talking to it in a soothing voice. Yep. Really happened. Meanwhile, Tonya tells Danielle that Marcellas talked about going out on the beach in a thong, which makes Danielle say, "He's gay, right?" "I would think," Tonya agrees. They chat about this for quite a while, and as much as I admire them for not wanting to assume anything based on stereotypes, this is one of a very few times in my life that I have badly wanted to employ the expression, "Girlfriend, please." In the diary room, Marcellas talks about how anxious he's been about the housemates finding out that he's gay. Outside, Tonya and Danielle are still talking about it. Marcellas in turn says that he thinks people know, but that nobody's asked him. Honestly, why would they? They've known him three days. It's kind of not especially relevant. Tonya unwittingly says a little bit about herself when she chucklingly comments that "if he's not [gay], we're really sorry." Marcellas doesn't really want to do some big announcement (he could write "I'M GAY" on a cake and serve it for dessert), but he also feels nervous all the time about when it's going to come up. I can't claim expertise, but I would think this would be where you would fairly casually tell one person, and then count on it to spread to everybody else within about six minutes. "All I can do is wear my cashmere sweater and clutch my pearls and hope for the best," he says. Hee!
Amy and Lisa exchange boring small talk, and then they get on with what they really enjoy, which is hanging out in their bathing suits. Endless bod-miration footage follows. The girls basically all have admirable bods, and all the guys have admirable bods except Josh and Gerry. Everyone is particularly impressed with Tonya's form (or forms, I guess), in light of the fact that she has five (one-two-three-four-FIVE) kids. Lisa has decided to continue down the Road to Shannonville by sporting a thong. UNNECESSARY. Man, like we don't already see enough of these people. I do not need to see actual ass cheeks in order to complete the picture.
More hanging out. (But not like Lisa is hanging out of the thong.) In one of my favorite moments of the entire episode, Eric is waiting by the shower stall as Chiara emerges from the bathroom. As she does, he yells, "BOO!" and she jumps and squeals. Aw, that is one of my favorite flirts. Some dances, you can do over and over again and they never get old, even though they're kind of stupid. Eric and Chiara continue horsing around, and Gerry teasingly tells them to take it outside. This introduces the Gerry Is Everyone's Big Daddy sequence, in which he explains how much he misses his kids and how much he's enjoying being a father figure for the house. That's kind of nice, I suppose. But he still looks like Frank, so I keep fearing that while they all are asleep, he'll paint a big smiling frog on the wall.
Time for this week's luxury competition. As Lisa dramatically announces, the object of the challenge is to win hot-tub privileges. Oh, like CBS would ever deny these people hot-tub privileges for any period of time. If they were to lose this challenge, the one would be, "You have five minutes to each write your name on a piece of paper." Okay, they might give them six minutes, because of Amy. Anyway, the way this works is that each of the houseguests gets a swimsuit assigned to him or her. The women get fairly simple bikinis, and the men get t-shirts and shorts. There's a large green tank of green goo out on the patio. (They never do tell us what the goo is.) They have to enter the tank in groups of four, each group containing two men and two women. Once in the tank of semi-opaque modesty-compromising slime, each group has to fully exchange swimsuits, so that the men end up in the bikinis and the women end up in the shirts and shorts. They have six minutes for all three groups to finish. So that puts the nudity clock at about seventy-five minutes of show, total.
The first group in is Eric, Roddy, Danielle, and Tonya. Get naked, get dressed. They have a pretty good time, actually, and Eric has a nice smile. As they finish and begin to exit, we learn the strangest part of this competition for the men, which is that the women's bikini bottoms, when they are put on underwater (or underslime, as it were), have a tendency to trap a big pouch of the water (or slime), which then bounces along between the wearer's legs once he exits. Eric refers to this as "this extra package bouncin' underneath me." Unexpected comedy really is the most precious kind. Eric helps Tonya out of the slime, and as it turns out, the challenge for most of the women is keeping the men's suits from falling off, because all the women on this show this year wear a size zero, and the shorts are a tad bigger than that.
group in is Lori, Chiara, Marcellas, and Jason. Chiara says that the nudity was okay, because it was a group thing. Marcellas diary-rooms that he enjoyed standing to Jason for said nudity (heh), and that he "got to show [his] ass on nationwide television, which is sort of liberating." I love the little inflection he puts on "liberating." He tickles me. Danielle, meantime, diary-rooms that "Marcellas looks really comfortable in the bikini." She pauses. "If you know what I mean." Yes, dear. We know what you mean. You are the last person in America to get what you mean, actually. She also mentions that of the men, only Jason really looked good in the bikini. "It caressed his little hips ever so lightly," she says admiringly, and I wish it weren't true, but it sort of is. He has quite a delicate girlish figure. For, you know, a hottie. Chiara isn't too happy that he fits perfectly into her suit. But clearly, the women are Jason fans.
The last group is Gerry, Josh, Lisa, and Amy. Gerry comments that he didn't care how the swimsuit felt, but that he was concerned about his look: "A guy my size in a Speedo is not a pretty sight." Hey, I've seen Mike Boogie dressed like Dracula, Gerry. There's nowhere to go but up. As Amy exits the tank, her shorts are around her knees, so I'm assuming she's waving pretty much everything she has at the people behind her. She eventually pulls it together. Indeed, as he feared, this turns out to be a rather poor look for Gerry. He has a sizeable version of the slime bulge Eric mentioned earlier, which in his case is an even more serious problem, because it drags down the ill-fitting suit. As he gets to the bottom of the ladder and steps off, his suit takes a dive, and the editors have to pixilate his naked ass. I think that's one of those things that really changes your life. Once you've been a person who's had your ass pixilated on television, you really can't go back. Eric somberly states in the diary room that he may have nightmares about Gerry's bikini look. Aw, don't be mean. Hee.
They have won hot-tub privileges. What a surprise. I'm sure the producers were hesitant to allow them to spend a lot of time nearly naked. They all take showers in the back yard, and Eric talks about what a good bonding experience it was. When you've been naked in a pit of slime with someone, after all, that is true friendship. They arrive at the hot-tub later to find it surrounded by candles and (once again) a vat of booze on ice. I really am starting to find the booze-pushing a little distasteful, actually. Everybody climbs into the tub. Lori mentions that the conditions were so favorable that she "rocked even later than [she's] been rockin' every night, ya know?" Okay, the same memo that says people from Wisconsin don't say "bring it on" says that people from Wisconsin don't say "rockin' every night." It's just wrong. But they all looove the tub. Toasting, bonding, drinking, admiring the collection of chests.
Mama-bonding segment. Lori, Tonya, and Danielle sit around yakking about their kids, and they talk to the camera about how much they love talking about their kids. Based on the people I know who have kids, this is easy for me to believe. Once again, we hear some more talk about Tonya and how superior her body looks for a lady who has five kids. I completely agree, and I completely give her all appropriate credit, but I must also point out that the fake boobs do help a little. Meanwhile, Jason explains that he's bonding with the moms, because he loves the sheer mom-ness of the moms. He finds them refreshingly mom-like. And mom-alicious.
And now, Marcellas's Lament. He explains in the diary room that he is "tormented." What is he tormented about? "Tonya's bad hair color...the lizards...how shiny [he is] because of this L.A. humidity...." He goes on to say that he wants to get rid of Tonya and Lori. In Tonya's case, this is because he's tired of hearing about her kids and her divorce, but he's not hot on her look, either. "I'm hating her outfits, I'm hating those huge phony breasts, and the bad teeth-bleaching..." He has problems with Lori's look, too. "Lori in that denim romper," he despairs. "[It] was bad enough, and then she put that pink, fuzzy tank top under it, and I was like...[beat] 'wow.' Those were courageous choices, but bad ones." He doesn't like her snakeskin bikini, either. Now, the hating of Josh: "It doesn't surprise me that Josh is also a Scorpio, because Josh is making me crazy. I am a Scorpio, too, and we are crazy jockeys for attention." HEY! Shut up. All right, hate me if you will, but I giggled myself silly at that entire sequence. It's about time we had a houseguest with the wisdom to be horrified by the way these people dress. ["I'm saying. Marcellas is a delight." -- Wing Chun]
Josh hates Marcellas right back, but that's not nearly as interesting. He manages to be vaguely offensive in his characterizations without being amusing in the slightest. Get off my TV, you little ratweasel.
Now, Josh is maneuvering with regard to the nominations. He is no longer willing to be nominated alongside Marcellas, because he isn't confident that his alliance will hold together. Yeah, no shit. So he's going from person to person, acting paranoid about what Lisa is going to do. Josh's inability to relax and feign unconcern is only one of the many reasons you can tell that his copy of Evil Doctor Will's Guide To Winning The Whole Shebang has many, many coffee stains on it that obscure key portions of the text. He attempts to talk to Lisa directly about how he thought they had some kind of magical bond during the nest competition, and now he's concerned that she isn't his sweet patootie anymore. Or something like that. You know, Josh, lose the bandanna already. Carolina blue is not your color. Or anyone's color. Lisa is very annoyed by his attempts to operate on her. He bugs Amy. He bugs Chiara. Everyone is sick of the paranoia. Lori tells Lisa and Chiara that she wants him out.
The America's Boyfriend Olympics continue as Jason vies for the gold, accompanied by the Happy Merry Music of Cute, Nice Boys. In the hammock with him, Chiara says she'll give him the money if she wins, if he'll just come home with her. My sentiments exactly. Or, nearly exactly. I wouldn't give him the money, but I would certainly make room. Basically, the women love him. He's sensitive, and he cleans the bathroom, and being as hot as a well-prepared wok isn't hurting anything, either. Chiara tells him a story that relates to a friend of hers losing her virginity, and she gleans from his reaction that he may be a virgin himself. She becomes fixated on this point, to say the least. He diary-rooms that he thinks it will "single him out" if everyone knows he's a virgin, so he's trying to keep it a secret. Oh, whatever. What singles you out is your very sad soul patch, which is your one aesthetic flaw. Shave, boy, and we'll be so very good to go. At any rate, Chiara makes a few more attempts to discuss it with him, and although he doesn't (at this point) say it out loud, she basically gets the idea. The notion of his being a virgin completely turns her on, so now she's giving him the heavy-duty foot rub. As it turns out, Jason's primary concern about Chiara being in on his big secret is that she might tell Lisa. And...what? Lisa is going to have him sacrificed to a volcano god? I personally think they're all making far too much of this.
Haircut time. Tonya, it would appear, is quite the haircutter. Now, last year when Nicole gave haircuts to people who had been in the house for weeks, it made some sense, because they had gone so long without. But here, I think they're just bored. Tonya cuts Eric's hair and Roddy's, and then she moves on to Jason, and hallelujah to that, because he definitely was working the '80s do entirely too hard. Chiara seems almost sad that Jason's getting his hair cut, and she's still trying to hop aboard the Virgin Hottie Express, so she sits on the bathroom counter to supervise. Long story short, she drags out the fact that he's a virgin in front of several other people. Did she not get the hint that he didn't really want to talk about this? I sort of think Chiara is cute, and well-intentioned, and I get that she has a crush on him. But...my dear, think. She also correctly points out that this will make a lot of women hot for Jason in addition to herself. Sadly, this is true. I actually sort of like the way Jason explains it, which is that it is partly a religious decision, but he also sees some advantage in avoiding sex-related complications in all but the most serious relationships. I also like the fact that in private (in the diary room), he emphasizes the religious aspect, but he doesn't feel the need to do a big public speech about that, and talks more about the relationship-logistics part. He's very endearing, and really quite a good sport about the teasing the girls are giving him, so he gets big points for that. Actually, the only part in this sequence that makes me wonder about Jason is where he's in the shower running what sounds like the electric razor. Ew.
Okay, Josh's Goober Alliance has shifted a little. Now it's Gerry, Lisa, Chiara, Eric, Roddy, and Josh. In other words, out with Amy, in with Roddy. There's a net gain if ever there was one. On the other hand, Roddy, nooo! What are you doing? I hope he's infiltrating. Josh lectures about voting and sticking together and blah dee blah. Roddy indeed says that he's very skeptical about the Goobers. As the hot tub bubbles away, the Goobers discuss Amy, referring to her as "southern belle," which the captioning shows as "Southern Bell." No, captioners. "Belle," not "Bell." Not the phone company, the debutante. Sheesh. They all agree that they will make Amy think she's part of their alliance, and then they'll stab her in the back. There's a lot of sort of meandering strategy talk in this group, just yakkety-yakking about how smart they are and diary-room drivel about whether they trust each other or not, and quite honestly, they just don't have enough to go on yet to make it interesting. Josh shows them how to do the "Big Brother Shake," which surprisingly does not involve Gerry's substantial chestage. Instead, it is the most dumb-ass secret handshake you have ever seen in your life. Seriously, I refuse to describe it. That's how stupid it is. If you needed another reason to hate Josh...never mind. Who could need another reason?
The morning, Gerry says something about friends and enemies that is honestly too boring for me to pay attention to. Josh congratulates himself for getting "one of [his] moles" in as HoH, and crows that he's sitting pretty, provided he hasn't overstepped with Lisa. Marcellas points out that he hasn't really done anything to make Lisa angry, so he can't imagine why she would nominate him. Sigh. Lisa interviews that nominating Marcellas was "verbally Josh's idea." She emphasizes "verbally," as if she's about to clarify that in fact, she was going to nominate Marcellas anyway, but of course they don't show that part, which is very annoying. Josh says he had to nominate someone, and so he picked "the ultimate patsy, Marcellas." Bastard. In a conversation with Eric and Lisa, Josh lectures on and on about how Lisa should play the game. He tells her to nominate Lori as the alternative to Marcellas, because Lori won't hold it against Lisa later. I'm not sure I agree with that at all, but I guess this freaking alliance is so big at this point that there's barely anyone to choose from. He suggests that they warn Lori that she is going to be nominated, but tell her that the plan is to boot Marcellas. Lisa bristles at Josh's whole Obi-Wan routine, assuring him that she knows how to make her own decisions. This causes Josh to diary-room that Lisa could be "a handful." It's that "women are so cute when they're tough" attitude that I hate. Furthermore, there's not a "handful" on Lisa's entire body, so he needs a new metaphor. He eventually agrees not to tell Lori that her nomination is part of a setup until after the nominations. Excuse me, but why do they think Lori will feel better knowing that a group of seven people is plotting together against her? Aren't they basically going to be "reassuring" her that she's going to be around for about another four weeks, maximum? I'm not sure revealing the alliance is in anyone's interest but Lisa's, which is why it's such a stupid maneuver for Josh to want to tell her. Not that his stupidity surprises me.
Cut to Josh, telling Lori that the plan is to boot Marcellas, and then telling her that she's the other unlucky camper who's getting the nod. Apparently he changed his mind about not filling her in. She isn't too thrilled about being nominated, and wants to know whose idea it was. Josh claims not to know. (You'll recall it was him.) "You're here to reassure me," she says. He proceeds to swear, on a bunch of relatives he probably doesn't have, a cat he probably doesn't have, and a girlfriend he doesn't have, that she can trust him. He also swears on Judaism. I'm sure Judaism is honored. She seems skeptical. Perhaps she's figured out that being the odd person out of a big alliance (which he's telling her is six people, but which is actually sort of seven) isn't such a reassuring thing to know. She says in the diary room that Josh will do anything not to be nominated. That, actually, isn't that offensive to me -- that's kind of the way the game is. It's Josh's personality and stupidity, not his maneuvering, that's annoying me at this point.
Josh and Gerry have a chat in the storage room. Josh tells Gerry that he warned Lori about being nominated. Unbeknownst to them, Lisa is listening on the other side of the door, and hears Josh tell Gerry essentially that he reassured Lori that if Lisa doesn't toe the Goober line, she'll be out herself. Josh also tells Gerry that his real plan for the eventual, final, actual, genuine Sub-Goober Alliance is Josh, Gerry, Roddy, and Eric. Lisa? Oh, yeah. She's listening. Having heard this, she tells us that Josh is "a snake," and will "get his own snake poison back." Gee, probably. Because they're always smart enough to get rid of the backstabber when they have the chance. [Eye roll.]
As everyone waits for nominations, Chiara practices her Mary Katherine Gallagher, which is actually pretty funny. And now that she points it out, I do see the resemblance a little. Lisa interrupts the partying by rounding everyone up for the first stage of the nomination process, which is the dumb speech where she explains how it works. Blah blah blah, she gets all the keys off the wall, puts the keys of the people she's not nominating in the box, blah blah blah, and if your key doesn't show up, you're toast. Everyone seems to find this meeting unsettling, as it serves as a sad reminder that they can't just play in the slime pit naked for three months. My goodness, Lisa brought quite a few bikinis with her, it seems to me. I think I've already seen three.
More nomination talk from Josh. Chiara tells him to shut the hell up. "Ah laahke ever-bahdy," Amy laments. Ah, yes. The heartbreak of the softhearted skank. Inside the house, Lisa gets the keys off the wall, trying to look pensive and not really pulling it off. She mentions how hard it will be to have the nominees "verbally know" that she put them up, and I have no freaking idea what that means. It means she likes the word "verbally," I suppose. Key-placing, agonizing, yakkety blah phooey. She gathers them all at the dining room table. She says she had no choice but to be the first "bad guy," and acts like she rather regrets having had to do it (not that she didn't allow them to all kiss her ass all week). The slow and non-suspenseful nomination process takes forever, as usual, and we learn to no one's surprise that she has nominated Marcellas and Lori. Yawn. Josh wiggles like an overstimulated seal when he learns he's safe. When Marcellas realizes he's nominated, his jaw drops. "Marcellas, you are a marked man," he snarks at himself. Lisa claims that she picked Marcellas because she likes him, but nobody else does, and that she picked Lori because everybody else likes her, but Lisa doesn't. Get it? Lori cries a little in the diary room, claiming that this is the kind of thing that "just might kill ya, but makes you stronger if you handle it right." I suppose. I mean...it's not up there with malaria or anything, but I get the general idea.
Now we are forced to watch Josh congratulate himself on the progress of his plan. Oh why, oh why didn't Lisa nominate him? When will these people learn that you get rid of the hideously evil manipulator at the beginning? You at least declare your independence from him. If Lisa had split off from Josh, I think the only person who would have been stupid enough to remain loyal to Josh is Gerry. The rest of the Goobers would have gladly jumped ship. They don't like Josh, they just want an alliance to be part of. Lisa is an idiot.
Marcellas vows to remain in the game, which is good, but he refers to himself in the third person, which is so, so bad.
Saturday night, a twist is revealed! Of course, the last twist was the whole nest challenge thing, so I'm not feeling too optimistic. There's no eviction until Thursday, so get ready for some serious, serious filler. Yeah, filler!