Saturday. Previously on Big Brother 3: Everyone was stupid.
Welcome to the Big Brother house. Never before have so many done so little for so long. In case you were in an unobservant mood twelve seconds ago during the previouslys, the tail end of Lisa's nominating segment is shown yet again on the black-and-white Dramatic-Tension-Cam. In the diary room, she congratulates herself: "My answers to my nominations of Marcellas and Lori couldn't have been any better." Huh? You know, I've reached a point in my life where I'm trying not to accumulate any more books, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to spring for that copy of The Official Lisa-English/English-Lisa Dictionary if we're going to last the season. She grins toothily that "everything worked out great." She describes herself as "very proud." Whatever you say, there, girlie.
In the living room, newly minted nominees Lori and Marcellas are trapped in a resigned hug of monochromatic dismay until the moment that they decide to buck up like the sprightly little elves they are, and they high-five. When their hands connect, there is a frightening outbreak of orchestral chaos, followed by a blast of what sounds like it might be a brass band made up entirely of badly dented tubas. The picture snaps into full color. Wow, just like The Wizard of Oz, if it had been about people smoking and scratching their behinds.
A cat walks on the piano at the music editor's studio apartment while he knocks back a Yoo-Hoo and wonders how he's going to pay off his student loans and still have time to write Ramen!, his edgy rock opera about the lives of young singles in New York. Roddy nuzzles the back of Lori's neck while he voices over that he was bummed about her nomination. In the diary room, Lori herself takes forever to explain that she doesn't know the other houseguests and they don't know her, and that's why she was nominated. During this speech, planets were born. She wraps up at last with a little "I'm not done here yet" statement that she means to come off as sassy, but that actually comes off as creepy and unhinged.
Marcellas -- who seems to have recovered from Lori's wardrobe -- tells us that he was sad for Lori because being nominated made her so weepy. Lori, on the other hand, tells us that "the game is on." Oh, gack. Marcellas chats with Roddy and Eric in the living room about the discomfort of having his own fanny on the block. He fumbles the Big Brother Shake, and chuckles with the guys over whether getting the hang of it would save him from eviction. In the diary room, he says that he considers his nomination a stab in the back, because he had been friendly with Lisa even before she was HoH. Well, get used to it, darling -- she's a snake, that one.
In a pointedly perplexing development, Danielle visits Lisa in the HoH room and praises her "very professional" nomination demeanor. Yeah. That's all she says, and then she leaves. Lisa doesn't think the purpose of Danielle's visit was to make Lisa feel better. Me, neither. On the other hand, she doesn't seem to know what the heck the purpose actually was. Uh...me, neither.
Lori is still self-administering therapy about her nomination. She visits Lisa just to clear the air and offer some reassurance that she's not mad about being nominated, and that she understands about the alliance. But then she diary-rooms that "paybacks can be pretty U-G-L-Y ugly." She tries to say it cool, too -- "ug-lay." Cool is not working for Lori. She's from Superior. Maybe if she were from Duluth, but not Superior.
Amy and Marcellas are playing cards. She complains that she doesn't want to vote, even though under normal circumstances she's "the hugest voter" and "loves to vote." What does that mean? Hey, is she one of those people who shows up with her little paper ballot and her golf-course pencil every time there's an available seat on the local Soil and Water Resources Board? I've always wanted to meet one of those people. Marcellas firmly encourages Amy to "vote her heart." She whines in the diary room that she doesn't want to vote against Marcellas, but she has to. Okay, seriously, I hate it when people do this. You do not have to. The drive to protect your own behind isn't malicious, but it's also not duress. It has gradually become my position that I don't mind people who turn on each other in this game -- it's people who turn on each other and then diary-room themselves into a frenzy about how they wish they could just be everyone's friend, blah blah blah, that annoy me most. Unlike shows where there's some element of skill competition, this entire game is about manipulation of other people, so quit pretending it isn't what you signed up for. It's the Lesson of Hardy and Will, among other things.
Josh pulls Jason aside and suggests that the two of them "work together" in the coming weeks. Jason equivocates, and Josh voices over that he just knows Jason "would like to be like [him]." Yeah, probably. He'll need a bandanna, a whack in the forehead with a brick, and a shoebox full of aggressive, fertile body lice. The conversation ends with a lot of blather about "the down-low" and "making it happen" and "with ya." I think Jason missed "keepin' it real" by about an inch and a half, thank the merciful heavens. I don't particularly like Jason's odd getup, in this scene, of shorts, sweater, ball cap, and sandals, either. He looks like he got lost on his way to a golf tournament and raided the lost-and-found at the YMCA. Jason assures us that he's trusting Josh for the moment, but that if Josh falters, Jason won't have any problem "doing nasty, dirty things" in response. A few hundred living-room couches across America are suddenly covered with greasy smears of ash representing what's left of a few hundred women with virgin fetishes who just spontaneously combusted.
Gerry comes to Lisa's room, where she's hanging out with Chiara. Wow, he must have saved a lot of proofs of purchase to land that yin-yang necklace he's wearing. He wants to know when the Goobers (whom he putridly refers to as "the cartel") are meeting again to discuss strategy. Gerry says the obvious choice for "the Lori position" in the nominations is Jason. Chiara momentarily panics at the thought that her pet virgin will be in jeopardy, but she agrees that it makes sense. Gerry says he's unapologetically being a "tight-ass mercenary." Yeah, your students are never going to bring that one up in the future. ("Settle down, you in the back row." "Ooooh, look who's a tight-ass mercenary!") He then makes an incredibly bizarre remark to the effect that he has one thing to say before returning to "eunuch-man." He tells Lisa that "an intelligent woman is such a turn-on." Don't even get me started on that remark, either in general or in this particular circumstance, because we'll be here through the beginning of the fall season. Or you'll be here, anyway. I'll be locked up.
Eric has a good body. Eric is a firefighter. Everyone loves firefighters. Eric likes running the big noisy sirens. Eric is the lizard's best friend. And I have fortuitously hit my Lizard Daily Allowance and my Eric Daily Allowance at precisely the same moment, so I think we're done here.
Because food challenges aren't boring enough, it's now time for the even more soporific segment covering preparations for the food challenge. The houseguests loll about on the couches, each assigned to come up with five food items they are craving. What I think is most appalling is that someone mentions iceberg lettuce. I'm sorry, but how can you crave iceberg lettuce? It has no flavor and no nutritional value. Amy can't shut up about cheese -- cream cheese, Jack cheese, Cheddar cheese, Colby cheese, pepperjack cheese -- and Josh just plain can't shut up. He diary-rooms on and on about how long it took for everyone to pick their five foods. He claims that "one stupid idea comes out, and everyone jumps on the bandwagon of retardation." Well, you should know, pinhead. You're the one sitting behind the wheel, leaning on the horn.
Josh plays cards with Marcellas, and tries to score a few ego points by making Marcellas beg him for his vote. "Why should I keep you in over her?" Josh asks. Marcellas tells Josh he should vote out the person more likely to beat him later. This is a smart move bordering on brilliant, of course, because Marcellas gets exactly who Josh is, and knows that Josh is very nearly stupid enough to allow himself to be manipulated into not voting for Marcellas just to prove that he isn't afraid of losing to him. You'll recall that Marcellas just told Amy to "vote her heart." Knowing what to exploit in people is, of course, the only way to win this game, which is why it's interesting, as well as why it's sort of pathetic and depressing. Josh claims not to know what he's going to do about the vote. Marcellas tells Josh to "watch [his] back," and the editors provide two quick and grainy slam-close-ups of Josh, just in case the dramatic tension wasn't clear to you. Josh-JOOOSH! Is it clear to you now?
Jason and Danielle are playing cards, and he tells her how Josh slithered up to him to discuss strategy. She responds that no one has approached her about cooperation at all, and that it's beginning to make her nervous. Danielle also says in the diary room that she suspects that although Lisa is officially the head honcho, Josh is calling at least some of the shots. No flies on her. Her step is to figure out just how big the Goober alliance really is, and she and Jason agree that it includes at least Roddy, Eric, and "the girls" -- Lisa and Chiara. In the diary room, Danielle vows to get Josh, and she ponders her move.
Time for the food challenge. Like most of the food challenges, this one is brainless and bland, but the houseguests manage to act interested. I suppose it beats picking your teeth and playing with the lizard. This week, it's an egg toss -- first the men throw to the women, then the women throw to the men, and each egg represents one of the foods they asked for. If the egg survives the toss, they get the food. A close examination of the eggs in the baskets revealed that they requested, among other things, grits, pomegranates, Kona Coffee, half-and-half, mustard, pancake mix, and honey. Jason is excited about the prospect of getting vanilla extract. But Jason, does it go with cheese? Roddy says the men should throw the nonessentials, because the women won't catch anything. I narrow my eyes at him. We get underway at last. Eggs are dropped, eggs are caught, people yell. Among other things, this is our first opportunity to observe Eric calling Chiara "Kiki." That? Is very nauseating. They don't actually give us the totals as far as how many eggs the women caught and how many the men caught, but it does appear that the guys are better at the catching. I do like it when Roddy says that he declined to dive for an egg, determining that he "didn't think it was worth an injury for ground sage for the week." It's the way he says "ground sage." It makes me laugh, so now I narrow my eyes at him a little differently. As usual, they wind up with quite a motley collection of groceries. All the makings of a marvelous sardine and tartar sauce quesadilla, among other things. To Amy's delight, they pull down a veritable artery-load of cheese. Parmesan, Swiss, Cheddar -- it's a heart surgeon's paradise. All right, who requested corn dogs? That's just wrong.
Now Josh and Amy have an egg fight, which starts when she throws one at him. He, reasonably enough, grinds one into her hair. For some reason, Lori feels the need to point out that Amy "took it with grace," like, hello, Amy started the whole thing. Not only had you better be willing to have the guy crack an egg into your hair when you do that, but that should be the reason you do it in the first place, because getting each other sloppy is fun, and most certainly a time-honored way of showing affection. You know, I was watching a very, very muddy softball game once, and a friend of mine, who was built like a bear, had just slid into home and turned himself into a gigantic ball of nothing but mud. I lost track of him, and the thing I knew, he grabbed me into this enormous hug, covered me with mud, and ruined (permanently) everything I was wearing. It was excellent, I recall it with great fondness, and if you don't understand why that is, you are not the kind of person who should throw eggs in a social situation.
The storage room is full of food, to the squealing delight of all concerned. We are now subjected to an interminably long and unfunny sequence about attempts to hide Amy's precious cheese. This sequence climbs up in my lap, uncorks a bottle of Oil of Ennui, and dabs it under my nostrils, and now I can't concentrate. In the end, the cheese sequence occupies one minute and fifteen seconds of screen time. Yes, these people are in the house twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for a total of one hundred sixty-eight hours. During that time, they plot, they scheme, they sleep together, they talk trash, and every now and then, they take their clothes off. The show, on the other hand, is on for about one hundred twenty minutes a week, not counting commercials, and it just devoted one minute and fifteen seconds to hiding cheese. I'm just saying.
Marcellas lounges in the back yard with Chiara sitting on his legs. She admires his shirt, and when he gives her the full details on its vintage origins, she deadpans, "You're right. I can't see why anyone would think you were gay." They both cackle. In the diary room, he tells us that indeed, his sexuality is no longer the world's least-kept secret. Back at the lounge chair, he and Chiara agree that he pretty much gave it away when it became known that he owns, let alone wears, a lush bathrobe. Hee.
Bedhopping hilarity. Eric and Lisa move into the Big Bed Room, so now it is occupied by the two of them plus Lori, Marcellas, Chiara, and Roddy. Everyone ponders the porn possibilities of the various sleeping arrangements involving gay men, firefighters, moms, and so forth. Blah blah merriment. Sleep well, nitwits.
Oh, good grief. However much time they spent on the cheese, it's not as bad as the time they now devote to Jason's explanation of why chess makes a good metaphor for the game. Do you get it? Do you? DO YOU? As he and Josh play, Jason voices over from the diary room that there are pawns, and pieces that are sacrificed, and blah blah blah oh my GOD please give me a fork to stab into my own liver so I don't have to listen to any more of this. Here's an example of the subtlety: Jason says he wants to do something with the queen. Josh says, "It is nice to do something with your queen." Cut to...black-and-white shot of Lisa. Oh, please. Jason and Josh continue this hilariously vague conversation about strategy, because neither of them wants to say anything of substance. And neither of them, of course, has anything especially substantive to say.
Roddy and Chiara. Now I find this segment kinda funny, because I think he's mostly messing with her, and she sort of doesn't get it. He starts in while they're sitting around outside, saying, "So, when are we gonna smooch?" "Not for a while," she responds. "How long do you think?" "Probably about five weeks." Hmm. I could be wrong, but I think she blew this exchange. (No pun intended.) I think he was attempting banter, not asking an actual question, in which case her line is something more like, "I don't know. I mean, do you really think that's likely?" I'm concerned that he gave her the set and she failed to spike it. At least that's what I would have done. Of course, now she's in bed with him, and I'm...you know, TYPING, so...you do the math. Anyway, they flirt, they spoon, night-vision cuddling, and so on. Among other things, she refers to him as "Hottie." Instead of "Roddy." Sadly, I'm really not sure Chiara's wit goes very far beyond rhyming. In the diary room, Roddy talks about flirting with Chiara, and calls her "a lot of fun" and "a great girl." Oh, my. Talk about Phrases of Death. He also says "I keep tellin' her I'm gonna kiss her" in such a way that you can tell he goes on to explain that he's not necessarily serious about it -- but that, of course, is edited out. Later, as they're lying in bed, he whispers that he learned something today, and she asks what. "I learned you're a super-great girl." Yes, he actually says she's a "super-great girl," which is quite possibly the most sexless compliment of all time, except for "super-great gal," which I'm sure he almost said. Ugh. Correctly, she tells him he's a dork. I just can't decide whether I want to snuggle up to him for the season or not.
Gerry attempts to give Marcellas a strategy lecture using playing cards. It is the worst strategy lecture you have ever seen, even if you were personally there when the Bay of Pigs invasion was planned. Its entire purpose is to point out that Marcellas needs five votes in his favor to stay in the house. Thanks, Gerry. Gerry calls himself "Machiavellian." Oh, lordy. "Machiavellian"? Yeah, right. He was all about demonstrating strategy with playing cards.
As Gerry continues to explain how hard he is "working" all the "points of contact," we see him meet with Josh, Eric, and Amy and talk about strategy. Only Gerry could make Big Brother sound like Total Quality Management. Josh says that Lori is the "one person in the house who is working people." Eric takes a stab at defending Lori, and pointedly says that he trusts her more than [implied soundtrack: "Dun-dun-dunnnn..."] Danielle. More dented tubas. Gerry ferries this info directly to Dani, advising her to make some advances to Eric posthaste, or she's likely to find herself on the one-way eviction train to Julieville. He promises to "watch her back," and seriously, I am exhausted from hearing these people discuss the having and watching of each other's backs. Enough already with the gangster loyalty speeches. ("They send one of yours to the diary room, you send one of theirs to the hot tub!") Gerry also tells Danielle that he's getting tired of "mentoring" Josh. Wow, the notion of Gerry mentoring Josh suggests to me such an utter black hole of strategic thinking that I have to grip the arms of my chair in order to feel secure that I will not be sucked forward into it. Gerry tells us that Danielle is a more "useful" ally than Josh. I think WorldCom is a more useful ally than Josh at this particular moment.
Speaking of the rat boy, he is now wearing his bandanna sort of diaper-style and floppy on his head, presumably in order to reduce his pulsating sex appeal and fight off the screaming herds of teenage girls who were so anxious to throw away their pictures of Prince William and order eight-by-ten glossies of his mug after his debut last week. In a continuation of his anti-Lori conversation with Gerry, he insists that Lori is "playing people." He pauses. "I'm telling you, I'm telling you, I'm telling you." In the diary room, Gerry fires up for his one good line of the week: "The more forceful Josh is, the more earnest he is...the less I believe him." Right on, there, Captain Follicle. Gerry tells Josh that he likes Lori, but that he'll vote her out if the "cartel" wants him to.
Lori talks to Gerry about how "sucky" it felt to be nominated. He assures her that he's doing everything he can to make sure she's not booted. And then he yells, "Color! Color! Color!" and paints a fake tile pattern on the floor. Okay, he doesn't. He does, however, lament in the diary room that he has to be careful he's not "entangled in too many webs." I am so bored already with Gerry's delusions of Richard-Hatch-esque grandeur that I cannot even express it adequately using words that are part of my vocabulary. You'd have to see the face I'm making.
Marcellas and Danielle play cards. She asks him if he'll be able to be happy if he stays in the house, and points out that everyone seems to be bugging the hell out of him. He agrees, saying he's still particularly irked at Lisa, who was one of the few people he thought he was getting along with until she nominated him. Interestingly enough, that's sort of what Lisa said at the nominations -- that she liked Marcellas, but didn't think he'd connected with much of anybody else. Dani suggests to Marcellas that the explanation for Lisa's behavior may partly be that "people are influenced by other people." She gives him a meaningful wink. God, let's hope this is the beginning of some kind of offensive by Danielle against Josh. Because if there isn't an offensive against Josh soon, I'm going to have to at least buy some foam darts that won't damage my TV.
Now Marcellas talks in the diary room about his efforts to "be a little friendlier." A good idea, I think. He crawls into bed in the Big Bed Room, where Roddy, Chiara, and Lori are already tucked in. He tells them that he's had some tough moments, but that he decided he "can't be the black guy that cries." They all laugh, so he keeps going, complaining bitterly about Lisa putting him up against "the divorced mother." When this makes all of them laugh some more, he goes on: "And she totally picked the right one. Not, like, the one with the big tits. Pick the...like, you know, the real mother. Not the...the stripper masquerading as a mother." They're all in hysterics now, including Roddy, who has a nice, loud, goofy laugh, which makes it substantially more likely that I will indeed wind up snuggling up to him. Oddly, recalling this moment later brings Lori to tears.
The houseguests awaken to find a message on their TV screen that says, "What is the meaning of [international "no" symbol]? Find out tonight." They start talking, and several wonder if they've done something wrong. Later, Lisa pulls everyone to the living room for a chat. She explains that the big "twist" they keep hearing about is the "power of veto." What this means is that there will be a competition every week to win the power to change the nominations by "vetoing" one of the nominees and forcing the HoH to nominate someone else in that person's place. The limits: the HoH is not allowed to nominate the veto-er in the vetoed nominee's place. If one of the nominees wins the veto, he can choose to save the other nominee, but cannot un-nominate himself. This throws everyone for a loop. Of course, making toast also throws them for a loop.
The houseguests mill around for a while, not sure what to make of the veto. The Goobers are hoping this won't interfere with their plans too much. Josh -- with a newly shaved chest, which is less gross than his hairy chest was, but is still more gross than the spider I killed in the bathroom sink yesterday morning -- complains that the veto interferes with all his hard work. Well, if it accomplishes only that, it will be worthwhile.
Roddy, Eric, and Josh are sitting around talking trash about Gerry and his whole "no permanent friends, no permanent enemies" yakkety-yak. Eric wants to know why they're even considering being loyal to Gerry when he has "gone back on the alliance already." Eric says this with approximately the level of seriousness most people would use in discussing pestilence and poisonous snakes. More veto talk, more stupid people trying to sound intelligent, more green night-vision footage, and more of Gerry yammering about what he will do if he wins the veto. I need an aspirin.
Gerry and Amy now have a chat, in which he attempts to feel her out about whether she might be open to not booting Marcellas. Amy plays that dumb "I'm sticking to my word" card, which I completely hate, and insists that, for the sake of the alliance, she's voting for Marcellas. Way to dig your own grave, Princess Peach Blossom.
As it turns out, the veto challenge is a game where you shoot balls from a cannon at a picture of whomever you do not want to get the power of veto. I have to point out that I played almost exactly this game one month ago at Chuck E. Cheese. I found the trigger to be unreliable and the air pressure annoyingly fickle. The houseguests trade off shooting at the pictures, and nothing interesting happens. The long and the short of it is that many people eliminate themselves, including almost all of the Goobers. It appears to me that they don't want the power because they want the nominations to stay the same (Eric: "I didn't want to win the power, because I wouldn't have used it anyways [sic]"), but what I think they're forgetting is that it's a zero-sum game -- in other words, someone is going to win the power. The best way to keep the noms the same is to win it and not use it, not somehow prevent it from being won. But they don't really grasp this concept, and in the end, Gerry wins the power of veto. Yes, Gerry. Man, he is going to be insufferable while he ponders what to do with his enormous power. I'm so glad I have until Wednesday to prepare.
The tragedy is that the most entertaining thing about this sequence, when I first saw it, was a shot where it appeared that Lisa's boob was hanging out of her bikini. My amusement was shattered when someone on the forums asserted that it was an illusion resulting from the location of her mic wire. I was initially sure it wasn't, but looking at it again, I'm afraid it is. Mostly because there isn't enough of Lisa for that to be her boob. Also because where the hell else would her mic wire be, the way she's dressed? That's about where it's got to be. But I'm heartbroken that she's not actually oozing out of her clothes, because once naked body parts start accidentally making it into prime time? That's when it's on.
Wednesday. Wocka-wocka music plays as the Black-and-White Dramatic-Tension-Cam shows Gerry winning the extremely boring veto-privilege Chuck E. Challenge. There is much talk to the effect that Gerry is big power-guy right now. Lori has a chat with Josh, who points out that if Gerry messes with the nominations, that could screw Lori. Lori nods as if Josh has just said something terribly intelligent. Oh, honestly, what are the odds?
If Josh doesn't stop wearing that bandanna on his head, I'm going to hire a plane to drop me into the back yard with a dart gun. You can take it from there.
Lisa says in the diary room that she's very confident Gerry won't use the veto. And if she had any doubts, she certainly doesn't have any once she receives the wisdom of Tonya, who agrees with her. In the diary room, Roddy also predicts that Gerry won't use the veto. In a conversation with a do-ragged Tonya and Josh in the pool, Eric says the very same thing, only even more confidently. Well, that's it. Any time Tonya and Eric agree, I'm convinced. There can be no holding back the raw power of that kind of intellectual tornado.
Gerry goes to talk to Marcellas in the Big Bed Room, which he tells us he did because he knew it would annoy Josh. Teeny props to Gerry for that. He also reveals that he has begun to realize that if the Goober alliance is about what he calls "the beautiful people," then he doesn't want to be part of it. And that's fine, I suppose, except that frankly I'd rather see him say he doesn't want to be part of it because most of the people in it are such complete idiots. The fact that they look lovely without shirts is not the reason they're objectionable, not that I would expect Gerry to draw this distinction. Gerry rants to Marcellas about how much he doesn't like the alliance anymore, and how much he wants them to all go nuts and "kiss [his] ass."
Now this is where Gerry starts to get weirder. He tells Marcellas that Lisa and the rest of the Goobers felt this now-famous "negative vibe" from Marcellas. Gerry now has great regrets about having agreed, because he says he should have realized that Marcellas was just "vampin'." Oh, dear. I don't think I want to hear any more of this. Unfortunately, now I have to hear him say Marcellas was "queenin' out." There's a lot of yapping, but Gerry's basic point is that whether any of them (including himself) realized it or not, the Goobers' immediate dislike of Marcellas -- which seemed to set in about ten minutes after they got into the house -- was actually a result of the fact that Marcellas is a gay black man. Basically, the positive way to see Gerry's position is to say that he caught on to the fact that Marcellas was pretty much getting dicked over for being "different," and whether they realized it or not, what the rest of the folks in the house were reacting to was the fact that he was gay. ["While I don't necessarily buy that Gerry has had some kind of Augustinian epiphany about it, I do think that's what happened." -- Wing Chun] And the not-so-positive way to see Gerry's position is to say that he has concluded that the rest of the folks in the house failed to make allowances for the fact that (under his theory) you have to expect gay men to be bitchy all day long. In other words, I'm not sure he's winning any humanitarian awards for this little "revelation," even if you believe he's sincere in it. He also administers a little speech to Marcellas to the effect that Gerry immediately knew Marcellas was gay, but something something "that's you" and something something "you to call out." There's some irony in the fact that Gerry is turning into the Monica, as far as nonsensical conversation.
Now Gerry has a conversation with Lori. He tells her he wishes he could keep both her and Marcellas, and she says with absolutely impenetrable cheer that she thinks "that's ahhh-some." I haven't heard a voice like that since the girls at my high school got home from cheerleading camp, filled with newfound dedication and spirit. Gerry babbles some more on the topic of how Marcellas was treated so unfairly by everyone on the first night. Gerry blames himself for not righting this terrible injustice right from the start. Because obviously, if only Gerry had shared his wisdom, he could have convinced Josh to change his mind.
After a little bit of high-speed houseguests-milling-about footage, Marcellas and Lori have a chat. He tells her that unless he's saved by Gerry, he's still getting the boot, because the Goobers have it in for him but good. Incidentally, one of the nice things about Gerry's otherwise annoying whistleblower Son of Silkwood grandiosity is that he has thoroughly unmasked the alliance to anyone who remained and didn't know about it. Whee, air that dirty laundry! Lori predicts to Marcellas that Gerry will use the veto to save one of them.
Marcellas now goes into a very, very funny quasi-breakdown in the diary room, huddling against the side of the chair and ranting about how close he is to going over the edge. He pounds the armrest. "The bathrooms are making me crazy! The food is making me crazy! The phony [POUND] camaraderie [POUND] is making [POUND] me [POUND] sick [POUND]!" Hee! I love him. He keeps going, sounding less and less like himself: "I'm gon' die, I'm gon' die...I'm gon' wake up one day and be day-uhd." Oh, Marcellas. Do come over here and sit to me.
Lori diary-rooms that "things are starting to get ugly in the house," and she channels the Church Lady like you wouldn't believe. Complete with tight little mouth.
And now, in one of my favorite quotes of the game so far, Gerry tells us that "Josh is still operating under the old paradigm." Gerry, Josh couldn't operate under a paradigm if it were suspended over his head from a hydraulic winch. Josh doesn't know what a paradigm is. Josh doesn't know what "operating" is. Josh doesn't know what "under" is, unless it's followed by "arrest" or "wear." ["And for making me imagine Josh's underwear, you, Miss Alli, are fired." -- Wing Chun] In the Aquarium Room, Josh tells Gerry that no matter what, Gerry should just stick to the alliance plan. Gerry snootily continues reading his book like an irritated girlfriend, pointedly giving Josh nothing and allowing him to stew in his own juices. "The alliance has no realization that I'm about to trump their hand and throw everything into chaos," he intones in the diary room with great gravity. You can't actually trump an entire hand all at once, of course. But I guess that's not really the point.
Am I required to cover the ass-smacking segment? Am I really? Can't we just pretend it never happened? No? Okay. Josh likes to smack people on the ass. Especially, but not exclusively, women. Their consent is not required. Smack. Smack. Smacksmacksmack. Someone thinks this is funny, but it's not me. Marcellas and Danielle, in particular, don't appreciate it one bit. (Marcellas, in a hilariously motherly tone: "Don't hit the black people on their butts.") You know, this is only the second recap, and I'm pretty much out of ways to describe my loathing of Josh. They're all inadequate anyway. He continues to knock prior reality-show contestants off their perches on my Most Despised list, however. I've already explained that I hate him much more than Mike Boogie, and now it's safe to say that I would rather star in a remake of The Defiant Ones in which I spend long periods of time handcuffed to Wil, dependent upon him for my personal liberty and water supply, than spend five minutes in the same room with Josh, even if I could be shielded by a sheet of antibacterial plexiglass.
After a little preening, it's luxury competition time. Everyone gathers in the living room, and I swear it seems like Lisa has been HoH since man discovered fire. As usual, everyone is required to wear swimsuits for the competition. Why? Oh, no reason. Don't you wear yours whenever you have to engage in any sort of activity? In this particular parade of idiocy, the houseguests are divided into two teams. They take turns running into the house and figuring out what items have been removed. First team to find everything that's been taken wins a Hawaiian luau in the yard. There are a few notable highlights. Marcellas finally embraces the nerd/cool-kid split when, after choosing Lisa for his team, he comes to his senses, remembers who his friends are, and picks Gerry and Amy . It's kind of endearing, really, and I'm tickled that Amy has, for now, wound up on the nerd side of the equation. She's much more interesting that way. Josh is chosen last, and Amy tells him, "You have to go to the team that didn't want you." He thinks she's kidding. Once the race itself is underway, Lisa comments that Tonya is at a bit of a disadvantage because she has to carry her gigantic fake breasts everywhere she goes. Thus burdened by her gazongas, Tonya is so utterly unable to find anything that she allows the other team to recover from a significant deficit. And, in what is clearly the most telling thing about this entire piece, the contestants prove unable to spell, basically, anything. Eric means to write "picture" and writes "pitcher." Chiara means to write "oar" and writes "orr." No, really -- "orr." Roddy refers to the "dinning room chairs." You know, usually, when you say people on television are idiots, you're forced to work without a lot of actual empirical evidence. But the inability to spell "oar"? Yeah, that makes you an actual certified moron. And "picture"/"pitcher"? That's a freakin' classic. Third-graders all across America are encouraged by the fact that they still have a lot of time to study their spelling lists before they risk being considered too stupid for television. The winners are Marcellas, Amy, Tonya, Eric, Gerry, and Lisa, because they are very slightly less devoid of intelligence than Lori, Josh, Roddy, Danielle, Chiara, and Jason.
Luau. You don't care. And even if you did, I don't. Suffice it to say it's the sort of luau you'd get in the Four Winds Room of the Hyatt at the annual meeting of the National Association of Independent Plumbing Suppliers.
And now, the segment in which you are instructed to think Danielle is really, really funny. The only problem is that she's so clearly not. Not only is she not funny, but when they show the segments that supposedly prove that the rest of the house thinks she's funny, they mostly show her working her rear off to be amusing, and...they kind of show people obligingly acting amused, but not seeming all that amused. She does her impressions of the rest of the houseguests, which are unremarkable at best -- among other things, she gets Amy's accent entirely wrong, doing the hick twang rather than the honey drawl, and her Gerry is appropriately dismissive and insulting, but doesn't have much to do with his actual mockable qualities, of which there are too many to count. And her version of Lori's Wisconsin accent could not be less effective. Someday, when we have more time, I will teach you her Midwestern-accent practice sentence.
Now the women gather 'round to hear the rather surprising story of Marcellas's one-time engagement to a woman. He talks very warmly about how much he loved her, how he fell head-over-heels for her and breathlessly proposed...it's really very touching. I mean, presumably, there's a later part of this story that isn't so nice, but they don't really show us that part, or Marcellas doesn't tell it. Rather hilariously, the women who are there (Lori, Lisa, Tonya, Chiara, and Danielle -- everybody except Amy) all wind up talking about it as if it were the most emotionally moving thing they have ever seen in their lives. Lisa says she had a lump in her throat. Danielle mocks herself for finding it "so beautiful." Tonya says it makes her tear up just thinking about it. Marcellas explains that he bought his girl a ring, and that his philosophy is that if you're going to bother buying a ring, "go to Tiffany, and get it on. Every woman deserves the blue box with the black writing and the white ribbon." He's so wonderful, because he says that as a boyfriend, but also as a stylist. Chiara stares dreamily at him. Lisa says it gave her hope that "there are nice guys out there." Speaking for a nation of single women who attended liberal arts colleges, I cannot help screaming at my television, "AND THEY'RE ALL GAY!" The women all diary-room about how much they love him now. Love him. Basically got big fat crushes on him from that one story. Everybody hug! As he embraces the women, Marcellas congratulates himself for telling the story without "pull[ing] a Bunky." They all laugh adoringly. Aw, how much do I love him?
Marcellas, in the diary room: "Even though I was having a real moment, I was still conscious that there was some strategy, or some strategizing that I could do within that moment." Translation: "Suckers." Ha! Brilliant.
Ominous low cello notes follow Gerry into the bathroom, where Danielle is showering. They greet each other, and he goes into the potty. She watches and waits for him to emerge. In the diary room, she begins to rant. "People who don't wash their nasty hands when they come out 'the bathroom, I have a problem with that." Gerry emerges, and does not wash his nasty hands. He does, however, brush his teeth. Danielle notices this, and it occurs to her that he does a lot of cooking. Out in the living room, Chiara, Lisa, and Tonya discuss the scandal that is Gerry's failure to wash. Tonya mentions that he didn't wash his hands when he came in the other day to make the salad.
And now, seriously, this is one of my favorite sequences in the history of this show, ever. It's vegetables, but it's also true crime. It's like The Tell-Tale Artichoke Heart. We open with an extremely sinister black-and-white shot of Gerry's hands all over the salad. Get it? He tossed the salad! With his hands! Don't feel afraid yet? Listen to the music! (As to the merits of the debate, I don't claim to be the world's most meticulous person, but I would never ever make a salad to be eaten by other people and toss it with my hands unless I had made a great display of washing my hands six times with soap in full view of everyone to whom I intended to serve it.) ["There is also no evidence that Gerry, say, left the john without washing his hands -- which is gross, I agree -- but then didn't wash them, in the kitchen, before preparing food. And furthermore, given that these people routinely hang out in the can telling tales of broken engagements and playing cards and whatnot, I don't know why they're suddenly all Howard Hughes about bathroom cooties." -- Wing Chun] In the diary room, Danielle obsesses about Gerry's hygiene. And now black-and-white Gerry's hands are in the salad again! It's a close-up! Of his hands! In the salad! Back in the living room, Tonya says that they're going to have to mention this to Gerry the time they notice it, because she doesn't want to "catch anything" or be "eating somebody's urine." Josh, by the way, is lying with his head in Tonya's lap, trying to get her boobs to rub against his ear. Now, black-and-white Gerry is shoving salad into his mouth! With his hands! Salad! Hands! Gerry's privates! The bathroom! Hands! Mouths! Gerry! It all fits together! If you concentrate, you can actually see individual E.coli bacteria on the romaine leaves, wearing sparkly outfits and doing the Hustle. And all because Gerry didn't wash his hands.
As if this conversation weren't stupid enough, Lori now walks in and is honestly appalled that all these people (the crowd at one time or another includes Tonya, Chiara, Lisa, Danielle, Josh, Marcellas, Eric, and Jason) are sitting around talking about this. (But Lori, did you see him? His hands! The salad!) She suddenly loses about nine of her remaining twelve marbles in one fell swoop, and starts babbling that everyone else runs their hands through their hair while they're cooking. She mocks them by psychotically fondling her hair and screeching these exact words, and I am not lying: "Oh, my GOD, I feel glamorous! Can I help you with the meat?" You know, every really, really bad show reaches a point where you stop resisting its sheer, unmitigated hideousness and start embracing it as the carnival freak show it really is. You may have your own, but for me, it's Lori, screaming, "Can I help you with the meat?" I mean, who could ask for anything more?
In the end, it's all rather anticlimactic, because after Lori and Danielle yell at each other for a while about whether it's stupider to sit around gossiping about a guy who doesn't wash his hands, or to scream like a lunatic at people who do, they agree to pull Gerry in and ask him to, you know, wash his hands after he uses the bathroom, and he says that's fine. Lori twitches.
time we see Gerry, he's dramatically washing his hands like a surgeon after emerging from the bathroom to find Danielle at the sink. They have a good chuckle over it, and I have to give Gerry at least some credit for being good-humored about something that was undoubtedly pretty embarrassing to have brought up.
And now, some time with Amy. She explains that she's the kind of person who does her own thing, but she knows she has an "air of superiority" that can be off-putting. She walks into the bathroom, where interestingly enough, Chiara and Tonya are in the shower together, covered with shaving cream. And Josh, Roddy, and Eric are watching. No, they are. How this occurred, of course, is not shown. As Amy is leaving a minute later, Chiara asks her if she wants to come in the shower with them. "Oh, no, I'm fine. I'm going to play cards," Amy says, and then adds, "Y'all have fun!" As Amy leaves, Chiara says, "Let's not say I didn't try to include her in something." Now, in Chiara's very slight defense (not that she strikes me as defensible generally), I do think she's kidding about trying to include Amy, and is teasing about being surprised that Amy wouldn't want to participate. God knows I'm not sticking up for whatever weird crap is going on in that bathroom, but I don't think Chiara was genuinely claiming that she was trying to be Amy's friend at that particular moment. Outside, Amy reports to Marcellas and Lori what just happened, and how Chiara said she'd been trying to "make a connection" with Amy. "I'm sorry," Amy says, utterly disgusted, "I don't want to connect on their level." Yeah, okay, Amy, but let's not get all too far above the low-class behavior of others when you are, after all, the girl who got smashed and hung from a tree yelling like a fool on the very first night. Lori tells Amy to break up the "power circle," and now...oh, dear. Lori is having another breakdown. "Split it up!" she yells. "Break it up! Shake it up! Baby, shake it!" By the end of this, she's doing a sort of Wisconsin Little Richard thing, and I'm thinking it's time to get the hook, because she's about to go so far around the bend that she'll be difficult to retrieve.
Marcellas and Gerry sit outside, and Gerry talks about how good he feels. He tells Marcellas that this is because Gerry has a brother-in-law and two nephews who are black. Excuse me? Gerry voices over that he "fell victim" to the first night's strategizing, which he alleges was based on a misunderstanding of "who Marcellas was." Once again, Gerry kind of creeps me out with his whole "Marcellas was just being a typical black gay man" thing, because I'm not really so sure that line of thinking is quite as advanced as Gerry thinks it is. He says, "I forgot how much I enjoy the company of my gay friends who are like that." And it's one of those things where I know exactly what he means, and I'm not saying no, but...it's still not quite entirely comfortable to me when you start in with the "gay friends who are Like That" routine. Also, Gerry is really annoying. And even if he were capable of single-handedly stopping racism and homophobia in our time, I would still be unable to stop thinking about his hands in the salad. His hands! The salad!
Gerry shares his thoughts with Danielle in the storage room. "He got picked on because he's gay and because he's black." Danielle shares her thoughts with us in the diary room. "I don't think that has nothin' to do with the tea in China, frankly." She goes to see Lisa and Chiara, and warns them that Gerry is going to veto Marcellas on this social justice theory of his. Danielle gets an assurance from Lisa that Lisa isn't planning on putting Danielle up if that happens. In the diary room, Danielle explains that everyone thinks she's on their side, and that's perfectly okay with her. Smart lady.
More chattering all around the house about whether Gerry will or won't change the nominations. Lisa hopes he won't. Josh thinks he won't. One of Tonya's implants thinks he will, and the other thinks he won't. Gerry voices over that he's hoping Josh will be nominated in Marcellas's place if he uses the veto. All the Goobers talk about the fact that it will be bad for Gerry if he defies their will. Because the Goobers use the Force. Or something.
At the veto meeting, there's a lot of introductory gobbledygook. Gerry tells Lori and Marcellas that he'll give them a chance to beg him to veto their nominations. Lori says that hers should be vetoed because she tried to defend Marcellas against unfair snap (and I do mean snap!) judgments. Marcellas says that he's now ready to play the game. "I'm down," he says. "It just took me a while to get down." Wow, I think that was the theme of my birthday party last year. Gerry finally announces that indeed, he is vetoing Marcellas's nomination. Because everyone judged Marcellas for being black and gay. And a little bit bitchy, but he doesn't say that part. And...there's racism in society, and we have to face it...or something. And he has some black family members and some gay friends. Man, Gerry sounds like a drunken preacher conducting the worst revival meeting of all time. "My soul is not for sale," he blathers.
Now it's time for an additional nomination. Her hand forced, Lisa replaces Marcellas with Amy, weepily declaring that she knows Amy the least, of everyone who's left. Amy giggles and claps at being nominated. She bounces over to the nominee chair like she just made the finals at a pageant. Everyone has tons of respect for the fact that she handles it like a pro.
Amy and Lori both say they feel confident and safe about being on the block. Outside, Marcellas says he's a winner all day. Later, in the Aquarium Room, Marcellas makes a comment about how "everyone thought this would be easy," and Josh throws back a typical asshole remark about how Marcellas was the one who didn't make it easy the first two days. Marcellas, despite the fact that he's working with the grass skirts they used in that absurd luau competition yesterday, doesn't come over and strangle Josh with a piece of one of them. "I think Josh is the antichrist," Marcellas diary-rooms. He goes on to talk about the house "as an organism," and how it has "a cancer" on it. In the form of Josh, of course. (And Gerry! Because of the salad! And his hands! In the salad! Oh, sorry.) Josh refuses to speak to Gerry, irate that Gerry suggested that Josh picked on Marcellas because he's black and because he's gay, rather than because Josh is a weasel.
The episode closes with the Goobers' flatly stating that Gerry is now finished for good. Josh declares that Gerry "wrote himself a ticket home." Lisa says that Gerry's obviously gone unless he wins HoH, in which case he could survive one more week. Have they all forgotten that there are other people who could potentially win HoH who might rather nominate them than Gerry? Lisa tells Josh and Eric that the reason Gerry is sitting outside alone is that "he feels retarded." Excuse me, but what grade were you in the last time you heard someone insult a person they didn't like by calling them "retarded"? Was it before or after you lost your last baby teeth? Honestly, Lisa, your emotional age had better get its ass in gear, because your biological age is way in the lead and is, frankly, going to lap it before long. Josh says that Gerry is a "marked man."
Thursday. The Julie Chen Exposed Rib Watch this week is at about seven. Julie kicks off the festivities by reminding us that Lisa is head of household. And that she nominated Lori and Marcellas, and that Gerry vetoed Marcellas, and that Lisa put up Amy instead. Because they didn't just tell us that during the previouslys. Except for the part about how they didn't, because THEY DID. The show proper opens with a shot of the lizards, which slides over to a shot of Gerry.
This is the part where you really find out what a complete dink Gerry really is. He starts going on and on about his own heroics with the veto, and how now he'll be a "richer man" for having been so damn noble. In case you haven't heard, Gerry saved mankind from racism and homophobia by vetoing Marcellas's nomination. Lori calls this "a beautiful confession." Gerry corrects her that it's a "manly confession." That should be a new magazine -- Manly Confessions. I would read it, although admittedly not if Gerry wrote anything that appeared in it. He continues that in this case, being "manly" isn't about "pumping iron." Lori starts shaking her head and saying, "Nope, nope, nope," and if you ever watched Sesame Street, there was a Muppet who said "nope, nope, nope" in exactly, precisely that way. It's tragic that they can't run side-by-side footage. Marcellas agrees that the house has become "a morality play" -- "Touched By An Angel versus Baywatch." Oh, eesh, are those my only choices? I think I'll read a book.
The origins of the Goober alliance, and the way it literally fell out of a tree, are explained for the zillionth time. Amy was replaced by Roddy to form Goober 2.0, and so forth. Marcellas tells Lori that it feels to him like "the beautiful people [versus] the normal people." I'm not entirely sure that anyone in the house qualifies as "normal," but I would agree that if you chose your alliance based on the swimsuit competition, this is the alliance you would probably get. Except for Josh. Anyway, then it was out with Gerry, in with Tonya, and now you have your new alliance, Goober 3.0. The women and the men in the alliance sit around plotting against each other about what they'll do when just the six of them are left, which is just preposterously premature, since it won't happen that way unless they win HoH every single week between now and then. I am constantly amazed by the ability of the people playing this game to forget its fundamentals when planning strategy. Listen up, morons (them, not you): Unlike Survivor, you cannot control who leaves just because you have the majority of the votes. GET IT? It's really not difficult. Oh, and Eric contends that he, Josh, and Roddy have more "brain power" than Chiara, Lisa, and Tonya. I don't know if that's true or not, and I would need a microscope and a calculator that goes out to many, many decimal places in order to gather the data.
Piano music that sounds like the beginning of a long-lost Journey song plays as Danielle and Jason play cards. Danielle explains that their current plan is to keep their heads down and let everybody else fight.
Lori continues wigging. Everyone continues eyeing her, noticing that she's turning into the neighborhood crazy lady. She, on the other hand, complains that Amy has gone from being her own person to trying not to get thrown out of the house. Lori punctuates this with another of her terribly earnest eyebrow-pops. This one actually goes far enough to constitute an eyeball-pop.
Roddy and Josh discuss their belief that Amy is a more dangerous person to have in the house than Lori, because Lori isn't going to win competitions and create problems with nominations or the veto. They chat with Tonya and her extremely distracting chest about whether Lori can be "controlled." Elsewhere, Lori tells Marcellas that the Big Brother house is "hell with studio lighting." Heh. She vows again to get through it, and says it's just a game. If you still have your old MBTV Drinking Game stein, you know that requires you to drink.
Julie's neck cartilage goes live to the living room to chat with the houseguests. After resolving an audio problem, she asks them about the veto and the effect it had. Danielle basically says it created great drama. Marcellas loved it. (Duh.) Julie asks him how he felt about being un-nominated, and he reaches over and kisses Gerry, then starts faux-weeping about how happy he is to be in the house. More houseguests yammering.
Time for the obligatory nominee speeches. Amy says she's enjoyed "reigning as nominee" (hee), and just generally acts happy and...well, yes, a little annoying, but I have grudging respect for her...oh, I don't know. Moxie, I suppose. Lori gives an incoherent speech about her "great adventure" and whether she really "got to know" the other people and other meandering things of that sort. Her eyes don't quite roll around in her head, but she needs to get out of the house.
And now, voting. Gerry laments his "dilemma," but he votes to boot Amy, based on his belief that Lori will be more useful to him. Danielle thinks Lori has gone a bit "cuckoo," but votes to boot Amy, because she gave Lori her word long ago. She says Lori is "cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs." Tonya and her purple do-rag have absolutely nothing interesting to say, and they vote to evict Lori.
Wouldn't you like to meet some of the houseguests' families? You wouldn't? Well, frankly, the show is on two nights in a row now, and we need some filler, dammit. Marcellas's roommate loves him. ["Wasn't that his sister?" -- Wing Chun] Thinks he's playing it just right. Thinks he's got it knocked. Lori's mother loves her. Thinks she's doing the best she can. Lori's son actually shoots at a drawing of Josh. That's really bad parenting to allow that, because weasels aren't even in season. Amy's mother loves her. And can twirl a baton. Does that really surprise you? She gets by far the best line of the family segment, which is when she says it was hard the first night, when Amy was boozing it up, to know that people across the country were getting the chance "to see Amy carrying on...well, so much like Amy normally does." Ha! What a great mom line, if ever there was one.
More voting. Eric likes Lori and doesn't like Amy. Chiara feels the same way, but tries to be more diplomatic. Jason (of course) likes them both. Yawn. Eric and Chiara vote to boot Lori, while Jason votes to evict Amy.
And now it's time to catch up with some of last year's houseguests and see how they're doing. Nicole seems to be a little less of a nut than she was at this time last year. She and Jeff are still together, and she's a weekend radio personality. Her eyebrows look the same. (Presumably, she's using the same stamp and the same ink pad.) She says she keeps in touch with Hardy, who she reports is lonely and "needs a good girl." Yeah, okay. Except for the "girl" part. And hey, here's Hardy now! He is still in the dictionary under "pretty-boy." He's modeling (what a shockeroo), and has actually done two commercials with "Shannon Michelle" (that's Shannon "Sonicare" Dragoo, for those of you who haven't had a chance to change your scorecards). He recalls that he and Shannon had some run-ins (insert sinister black-and-white shot of electric toothbrush), but he says they respect each other now, even though they're not friends. Translation? When they were working on one of the commercials, he scrubbed the toilet with her mascara wand, and he feels much better now. Anyway, Hardy is single and ready to mingle, so get your applications in today! Autumn is in a band. (This is the extent of her singing that we hear: "C'mon...woo!") Her kid is still cute, and she's doing much better now that she's recovered from the eating disorder she developed after watching herself on television being told by Shannon to go eat a bag of chips. Good grief, do they really want me to think about this right now? About the damage this show is inflicting on the contestants at this moment, as I am watching it? It's like watching Die Hard 2 as your in-flight movie. Kent still talks to Bunky on the phone (aw!), and he's mostly not smoking, though it sounds a little tentative. He takes a moment to trash Mike and Krista over the non-proposal proposal. He has organized a cruise for fans of the show, on which he is going with Bunky, Autumn, and Sheryl. Man, it must be said...being a reality-show contestant is like being a major league pitcher. You've got to know when to let go, or you wind up like Steve Carlton, toting your spikes from locker room to locker room, sure that the start will be the one when you get your groove back. This is especially true if you were Dick Ruthven instead of Steve Carlton to begin with.
Last year's houseguests offer their opinions of this year's houseguests. Nicole thinks Josh is disgusting. Hardy thinks Amy needs to tone it down. Kent thinks people are going to get sick of Tonya unless somebody "gets close to her with a pin or any sharp object and bursts 'em." Hee. Kent did have his moments. Autumn wants to marry Jason and have a thousand of his babies. And she hopes "good will win over evil." Oh, Autumn. How you have not changed. Hardy thinks there will be "a lot of fireworks." I really, really hate him, and his enormous smile, too. Put. Your teeth. Away. Julie promises that week, we will be getting updates on the other former houseguests, including -- be still my heart -- Will. Of course, I know where Will is -- he lives in the saddest, darkest, most ashamed part of my heart, where he will remain forever, inspiring acts of trickery and wickedness, and the occasional NC-17 dream.
Stupid Julie HoH interview with Lisa. I find it so interesting that some of these people obviously dress up for the live show. Lisa is more made-up and done-up than she usually is, despite the fact that she's not on TV any more than she is on any other day. Anyway, Lisa comes across just as vapid and pointless as ever. She talks again about the great pain she felt because she was separated from the rest of the people in her big private bedroom, boo hoo hoo. She's grinning like an idiot -- again, like we don't see her every day scowling and grumping at people. She doesn't want Josh to be HoH, because it would be too much of a "power trip" for him. Of course, if she's looking to keep him off power trips, not going along with his every stupid notion would be one way to go. Just a suggestion.
More voting. Marcellas thinks Lori is a darling lady, but Amy is his "best friend in the house," so he votes to boot Lori. Josh swore on everything that he could come up with, pretty much, that he would keep Lori. Much to my surprise, he votes to boot Amy. My suspicion is that he thinks he would lose too many jury votes later (in his fantasyland where he makes it to the final two) if he voted Lori out after swearing on his family members, his dog, and Judaism. He also probably knows the votes are there to boot Lori, so it doesn't really matter. I fantasize about tying him to a tree and flicking him in the forehead every hour, on the hour, for three or four years. I would probably sharpen my fingernails first.
Julie reminds us that the voting is tied, and the last vote is the one cast by Roddy, which we haven't seen. She goes to the room full of houseguests and informs them that by a vote of five to four, Lori is out. Lori chirps her usual (and slightly psychotic) "Very well," and asks everyone to accompany her to the door. The endless goodbye sequence follows. Hug. Hug. Hughughug. These are always just the most emotionally ambiguous hugs ever. There's the "I really like you, but you're going to find out in about ten minutes that I voted you out" hug. There's the "I hate you, and I've got nothing to lose now, 'cause you're outta here, wooooo!" hug. There's the "Please think of me kindly if I wind up in the final two, and try not to pay too much attention to all the footage your family is about to show you of me calling you a psycho" hug. You could write a book called, Hugging When You Don't Really Mean It, and you wouldn't need anything but this show. Among other things, Lori is a pat-pat-pat hugger, only with all the body mics, it sounds like BOOM!-BOOM!-BOOM!. God, it sounds like building demolition in there. The two people who I actually think like Lori the most and are sad that she's leaving are, interestingly, Roddy and Eric. Oh, and somebody forgets to turn off Julie's microphone during the hugging, so you can hear her demanding that someone relieve her of the burden of the envelope she's carrying.
In one of those wonderful moments that can only happen on live television not exactly involving members of Mensa, Lori has trouble finding her way the approximately one hundred feet from the house to Julie. She stands in the "yard," sort of blinking and looking around. Julie calls Lori over, and she finally finds her way in and sits down. Back in the house, all the houseguests are happily congratulating Amy on staying. Including most of the ones who voted for her.
Lori has that same tight, insane cheerfulness in her Chenterview that she has had the rest of the time. Her attitude is relatively positive and upbeat, but she really does seem kind of pinched and twitchy. In their video goodbyes, Jason, Gerry, Marcellas, and Danielle all tell her they enjoy her. Of them, I think Marcellas feels the most genuinely bad. He really does seem rather broken up about finding himself in the position of voting for her.
Julie explains that it's time for a new HoH competition. This week, it's about trivia questions regarding the house, and specifically in which room certain things are located or certain events occurred. The Goobers start dropping early, because they don't pay any attention to anything except scheming and getting a tan. My favorite part is where Eric answers that on the first night, the last group of people to enter the house slept in the kitchen. Oh, Eric, my stupid, rippled darling. When the dust settles, the last two contestants standing are Marcellas and Amy. When Amy flubs a question about where in the house you find a painting of a chair, Marcellas becomes your new HoH. He does that wonderful palms-to-cheeks, bend-at-the-knees, squinted-up-eyes thing that you would normally only see at beauty pageants. He is so excited. I must admit that I find myself wondering whether Amy threw it, or at least how disappointed she is about losing it. I mean, she knows Marcellas isn't going to put her up. Why make yourself a target and immerse yourself in the drama?
Time for the America's Choice question. It relates to what kind of contest the houseguests should participate in to decide who gets to pick the exercise equipment they get. Get it? You're not voting on what they get, you're voting on what they do to decide who gets to pick what they get. It's all very complicated, but because it holds the highest likelihood of causing injury to Josh, anyone who doesn't vote for Human Bowling is banned. Actually, the highlight of this sequence is Roddy looking directly into the camera, saying, "Big Brother, we need some dumbbells, please." When they feed me a joke like that, I really can't do anything with it. It's unsportsmanlike. There's a reason you can't use spotlights for deer-hunting.
Who will Marcellas nominate? (Other than JOSH!) Who will get the veto? (With any luck, it will be someone who won't save JOSH!) Who will be the evictee? (JOSH!) Who will be injured during Human Bowling? (JOSH!) Who will get food poisoning? (JOSH!) Who will be trampled by a pack of wild rhinos? (JOSH!) Hey, you've got to have hope.