6/21--Breathtaking Iceland...Oh, and There Was a Show Too

One thing will stay with me long after this turkey-of-a-show has ended and all break ups have been duly reported: damn, Iceland is beautiful...and COLD! Wow, I thought Whistler, Canada looked chilly last season but this place looked like a scenic, volcanic Siberia. Note to self: if ever a chance to visit Iceland arises, make damn sure to schedule the trip in whatever passes for summer there because the Green Bay Packers would freeze their asses off in this place. It's almost a shame the Weather Elf wasn't around for the trip. He could have given us one of his hilarious weather routines: "It's so cold, I've got blue ovaries!" Anyway, the wingman gets things started off by greeting the boys in the center of Reykjavik by a statue. Trying to look hip, Harrison eschewed a coat and settled for jeans and a turtleneck--a decision he appeared to regret almost at once as he rubbed his hands together and practically danced up and down.

Roses are Red and Damn I'm Turning Blue!

Talking fast before his blood congeals, Harrison tells the boys there will be one, 1-on-1, one group, and one of the infamous, 2-on-1 somebody gets hugemiliated dates this week. He lets them know they all need to compose a lame love poem for Ali to 'win' the 1 on 1 date then ducks into a local coffee shop before frostbite sets in. Regular readers of my nonsense already know how I feel about this crap. Most seasons its a love song, this year a love poem--same damn thing but Fleiss appears to think my ears have bled enough already this season so they can read their childish rhymes and not sing them. Like it matters anyway. The winner is preordained. Think they want her naming Mushmouth the winner and screwing up their 2-on-1 glacier battle? Not. The boys move out quickly and start pestering the locals for a quick linguistics lesson in Icelandic to fluff their poems and give them an excuse to move around before they get hypothermia. Several folks try to help them but Icelandic sounds like a mighty jawcracker of a language. They'd be better off trying to bust a rhyme in Arabic from the sound of it, but several will try anyway. Groucho Roberto, who professes to be a regular whiz with languages--demonstrates that Icelandic is definitely not a romance language while Normal-Guy Chris L. sticks to kiddie English and talks about Green Eggs & Ham or something. Somebody finally presses the mute button and Chris N. does get to speak, and I'm certain he wished they hadn't. He is shown mumbling about church bells and his edit for the week is set: he's retarded. Palooka Craig aims for the funnybone and hits my spleen instead, while Kasey Mushmouth gets to rhyme instead of sing and mumbles so incoherently that Fleiss finally hears my pleas and inserts subtitles. Like it mattered. Fleiss' own sound team had no idea what the guy was saying. "Smarmony harmony snicklefrits??" Beautiful stuff. Captain Kirk, who Ali appears to like, hasn't had a 1-on-1 yet, then walks over to Ali and tells her she's got eyes like a root beer float or something. Alleged writer, Frankfurter the Human Cartoon, mimics his move but fills it with cartoonish flourishes, better prose, and hams it up, but to no avail. You didn't actually think you were going to get a second 1 on 1 just because you're a better writer and performer, did you Frank? Nah, of course you didn't. Captain Kirk wins the date for walking over to her and holding her pointed chin while he waxed poetic. Fine, better than singing.

Searching For Warmth and Finding Mold

What does one do when in Reyjkavik on a 1 0n 1 romantic date? Go sweater shopping. Not that I blame them of course. I read somewhere that Icelanders have the highest per-capita alcohol consumption of any humans on the planet, and now I understand why. I wouldn't have blamed these two if they'd gone shopping for a kerosene heater and a few bottles of Stoli. But they stick to clothing and Kirk hops around with his child-like enthusiasm and they try on dorky sweaters. A steady drumbeat of skepticism from Ali Cat lets us know some big reveal is coming too. She takes him to a private chalet for dinner and he tells her a serious story of nearly dying of mold poisoning. I've known people who suffered with that. Dangerous stuff. It's a good story of perseverance, and Captain Kirk makes up for the macrame scrapbook a little bit. Strangely enough, they both appear sober, which is odd when compared to how drunk Ali's going to look shortly, but the rose is never seriously in doubt.


The Blue Skin Lagoon

While Ali and Kirk have been storing body heat, the Group Date card arrives. Moving out onto the frozen tundra will be: Groucho Roberto, Normal-Guy Chris L., Semi-mute Chris N., Palooka Craig, Tennessee Ty, and the Frankfurter. This means the 2-on-1 get lost date will feature crazy-assed Kasey Mushmouth and smarmy-assed Wrassler creep, Justin. The wrassler gets his smirk on early and plays his trump card. He hobbles over to an Icelandic doc-in-the-box and has his cast removed. "That's one small step for Justin; one giant leap for Rated-R." Listen, you douche; you're not allowed to make any allusions to the Apollo Program. The only thing you have in common with real men who risked all for the moon is that they might have accidentally collected your head on the surface thinking it was a moon rock. Anyway, Frankfurter, obviously desperate to do anything to convince the producers to let him leave, plays Life Coach to Mushmouth, who is looking crazier by the second. Frank helps the narrative along by asking him about his tattoo and letting Kasey mumble incoherently about guarding her heart again. Damn! Can we please get to the tundra? They try and block me with more mumbling, but since I'm writing this, I'm going there anyway. Up yours, Fleiss!

And when I said Tundra, I wasn't joking. Ali awaits them in a frozen wasteland with some Siberian ponies (Yes, I checked) and they all go for a ride. Since his singing is so putrid, this is the big chance for Tennessee Ty to take center stage and prove what a cowboy he is. He takes the lead and helps Ali onto her pony and runs around helping people out because he's from Tennessee, where everyone knows how to rope and ride except most people. Normal-Guy Chris L, looks much like the Massachusetts clam-digger he claims to be by nearly falling and splintering his tailbone on the ice sheet they're riding on, but makes his escape anyway. She then leads them to a hole in the ground and its time to go frozen spelunking. Normal-guy Chris goes first so he can steal 5 seconds with her at the bottom of the hole. Her hands are frozen like a Popsicle when she descends so he risks frostbite by giving her his gloves, which impresses her. Seeing this, every other douche races to bury her in clothing, except for the Frankfurter, who lays back. Privately, he moans about how group dates suck and goes on another of his now familiar jealous rants. She answers with one of her own and says he "disappeared" on the date. Their spelunking adventure over, Fleiss gets them to the Blue Lagoon hot springs so Ali can strip down and get near-naked and totally drunk. Ty, being the cowboy hero of the moment, gets 1-0n-1 time first, but I can't remember anything that was said. Chris L gets his shot and she asks him about his past relationships. Wow, really? He's been there for 4 weeks and had a 1-on-1 date with you and you're just asking this? Anyway, he shoots up red flags by admitting he's always tried to change for women. They make out so Frankfurter can melt down. He finally gets his 1-on-1 time and she orders him to "step up" like a football coach. Go on, Frank, grovel at her feet while she's tonguing other dudes in plain sight. What the hell is wrong with you? Frank vows it's a wake-up call and doesn't act surprised when Tennessee Ty gets the rose. Much to the chagrin of the female audience, we see little of Groucho Roberto. Sorry gals, you'll need to re-watch last weeks Lion King date if you want to see his beefcake, Fleiss is busy showing crazy at the moment.

Stranded at Santa's Workshop

One thing we can always count on this show for is it's cruelty. When it comes to dumping people, sometimes Fleiss comes close to executing the departing just for our amusement. And when you consider the sanity of the guy he's about to shitcan, I think you can imagine just how few Christmas cards Fleiss gets, despite his billions of dollars. Ali takes the Mumbler and the Smirker out to an active volcano via helicopter, and I have to say its one of the more impressive sights this show will ever capture. Not content with flying around it, the chopper actually lands on the volcano. A private interview with Ali lays out the score pretty clearly: "All Kasey has to do to get a rose is act normal." Sorry, babe, that's like asking a mouse to act gigantic, but it should tell you how she feels about the Wrassler. They all leave the volcano for a glorious glacier where the Icelandic Tourism Bureau has carved out an ice cave for them complete with ice furniture. Wrassler goes first with her while Mushmouth waits outside in the cold shooing invisible mosquitoes or whatever he does when he's alone. The Wrassler hits her up with what she wants to hear (i.e. he talks about HER and not himself,) and she's too young and stupid to see she's being played. She then wanders out into the deep freeze and has a sit-down with Mushmouth so he can mumble some more and then he whips out his tattoo. She goggles at it, and looks like she wants to yell for a cop. Uncomfortable, is a very good word for it. She then hems and haws around like she's talking to an asylum escapee--which she is--before she lines them both up and gives the Wrassler the rose. As the chopper lifts off, Wrassler smirks down at him and a pull back shot shows Kasey standing in the ass end of frozen nowhere all alone. The only thing Fleiss passed on was having the helicopter swing around and strafe him with a machine-gun. But if you're worried about him, you can drop him a line. Just address your card or letter to: Kasey Mushmouth, Reindeer Glacier, Reykjavik, Iceland. 320FU. I'm told that Robby the bartender from Jillian's season continues to receive fan letters in the middle of the Canadian Rockies and mail and food drops are regularly made to Payton from Andy Baldwin's season on that aircraft carrier she got stranded on, so he will be fine.

Time to Get Even More Drunk

The party gets going as Ali enters and she tells the boys about Mushmouth and tries very hard not to laugh her ass off about it. The story barely ends when Frankfurter hops up and snatches her away for the 1st private time. He reminds her that he's supposed to step up and they kiss. Frank then gets that look in his eye that every woman understands called male horniness. Ali sensing the Frankster is about to tackle her on the couch and do her, giggles with glee. Frank praises her "brains". Heheh yeah, her brains. Next up is Palooka Craig, who has been expressing extreme nerves that he's about to get dumped and won't be able to fly around the world on somebody else's dime anymore. Give the 'ol Palooka credit though, he comes in with a joke and you can rarely go wrong making a girl laugh. He shows her a pen-drawn tattoo on his wrist that has her breaking up laughing, which tells you just how broke up she is about Mushmouth freezing in that ice cave. Somebody hits the mute button again, and for the first time we get to see a private moment between Ali and Chris N. She asks him about his fun side and the edit makes sure he looks catatonic before responding, "I like Mexican food." Fleiss, you're such a dick. But this does lead us to where the ladies want to go anyway; Normal Guy Chris gets a brief talk where he lies about how willing he is to leave Cape Cod and his old man so he can go collect garbage in San Fran while Ali appears on Dancing With The Stars or whatever. Then, finally, the Wench Queen sits up straight as we get to Groucho Roberto. Ali hauls him out into the cold by the hot springs and they exchange about ten slurred words that amount to her telling him he's too damn good-looking for her. Then they make-out.

Wingman Narrative

For the 1st time this season, there's enough filler-time left over from all the drunken insanity for the wingman to slither onto his cheese throne and feed some storyline to the primary. The whole recap boils down to what they need you to know for the rest of the show: Ali is afraid to fall in love and terrified she won't get loved back. If you've missed the central theme of her edit to this point, there it is all spelled out for you. Nice to know Fleiss thinks you're a blithering idiot, isn't it?

The Least Dramatic Rose Ceremony Ever!

Already safe: Virtually half the cast, including Tennessee Ty, Captain Kirk, and Justin the Wrassler. Which leaves three guys she's drooled over, one guy who cracks her up and is employed as a lawyer, and one guy we've seen speak twice and both times he was made to sound and look handicapped. Oh, the drama was killing me.

Roses:
1) Frankfurter--He's gonna step up so he can step out.
2) Normal-Guy Chris L.--coming to a sanitation truck near you.
3) Groucho Roberto--This guy could go to sleep until the finale.
4) Palooka Craig--cool! A trip to Muslim Europe on the house!

Cut: Guess. He walks out to the limo alone and climbs in as it pulls away. For a minute I think they're going to keep the mute button on but then he speaks, looking dazed at his dismissal but not heartbroken, and says some of the most intelligent things I've ever heard uttered on this show: "This process was just too rushed. Maybe in other, different circumstances I could have opened up more. But this all came too fast." No wonder they didn't let the son of a bitch talk, he's a friggin genius.

Breaking News: Hot off the presses or whatever they call the internet these days. It's just been announced that Jake Cheesemachine Pavelka and his partner, I mean, fiancee, Vienna Sausage Girardi, have decided they have secured adequate Hollywood opportunities and are therefore calling their partnership over. The bad news, he's now free to come swooping in on what remains of Ali's season. Lets hope not. Rumors are also swirling that Jillian Harris and her fiance, Drop-Dead Edward Swiderski are about to raise the white flag too. If we combine this with this season, which is starting look like an all-star bust, it means Fleissmonster and his evil minions are back to where they usually are in terms of success. Just ignore the Jason/Molly wedding, that was obviously a fluke.

Ok, next week, this turkey goes to Turkey and the producers pull an ambush that's guaranteed to wipe that smirk of the Wrasslers face before I have to slap it off him. See ya then, mateys!