Oh damn! I think Christa and I are screwed. Maybe voting out T wasnít such a good idea. Jon DID promise on his Grandmotherís grave that he would take me and Christa to the Final 4 if we saved Burton, but Burton is not too keen on that idea. That ungrateful fool thinks that our votes to "save" him don't count because Christaís butt was also on the line. Let it be known, that if it wasnít for me and Christa, Burton would not be here.
I can't seem to focus on the bigger picture. Goofball Christa is of no help, and my lucky peach pant suit is not pushing me to the path of victory anymore. Maybe Darrah, the Queen of the Dead, can show me the way. She speaks funny, but I managed to understand that she and Jon have agreed to vote Lill out next. That's cool with me. Lill is nice, in a Rain Man kind of way, but if she made it to the final 2, the jury would just hand her My money. I canít have that. Adios Lill.
Whoa! Wait a minute there. Christa canít be the one voted out. A sniveling snake and a boring weirdo promised that Lill would be out tonight. Oh damn! I have been screwed again. But let it be known that I will not fall under the spell of the girly snake again. Whatís that Jon? Grandma Fairplay has told you from beyond the grave that I should trust you. Um...okay.
This is so great. Everything is going my way AND I got another opportunity to tell the ďfat women and wicker furniture jokeĒ! I got to demonstrate my hooked on phonics techniques, and read the reward poem. I was really proud of myself. The reward wasnít really an individual reward, but rather a group reward that I won. Well, Lil, Darrah and I. Whatever.
I freaked out in the plane, as I realized that the Pearl Islands are really a bunch of Islands! Who woulda thunk it?
The shower was soo frigginí nice, plus then the southern girl and the old crone let me order for themÖ. AND they appreciated it. Yep, this is really my game. Somehow I pissed Lil off and she went to bed early, but it really didnít matter as I already had everyone exactly where I wanted them. I even get to swear on grandma. I can hardly keep a straight face when I do that.
Everyone thinks Iím taking them to the final two, and one of them will be right. I just donít know which one yet. I can even lose every immunity challenge, it doesnít matter. Iím final two baby, just wait and see. Until next weekÖ Peace out!
Today I finished crafting a set of chess pieces out of sting rays and coconut shells. The detail work would make Karpov and Kasparov drown in their own tears. Now that Tijuana and Ryan O. have bade their farewells, I have no true friends on this island. No one is around to keep the secret that I, Darrah, have saved all the brains I've ever worked with and formed an amalgam of all my favorite parts, a neural wonderland, if you will. And, if you'll permit me, I will quickly verbally shapechange before the Survivors 'spect a thang.
Jus betwayn you an' me an' a polecat named Sue, ah think Jawn Forklift is a frayk of naycher. Ah tol' him ah would nevah go out with him, but naw he's been off'rin' me fahnill two staytuss. When embalmin' carpses, y'know ya don' wanna bay with uglay dayd payple, an' ayven when yer drainin' 'em of prayshuss bawdlee fluids, ya do whatcha hafta do. Bahfore ah won that ehmyoonty challedge--an' ah was quatt gyood with that muskrat, eff ah do sie so mahself, ah deed whatcha hadda do. An' that was stie up layt with Jawn in mah rowubs awl seelk an' fancy lahk.
Jawn an' Layl an' ah won an evenin' at a raysort. Way flew onna pline an' sawr awr sheltah down baylow. Ah think ah sawr Sunder glarin' at me with one ah-bawl ayven from whar ah was sittin'. It was lahk a baym of grayn laht, grayn fer jellossay. Iss nawt ayzee bein' grayn. Ah felt fer her.
At the trahbil counter we vawted out Chris'mas. She an' Sunder trahd tuh vawt out Burger, an' it didn' wark 'cause Jawn's dayd gran' momma has been bein' swarn awl over.
Winning reward challenge was the greatest! Iíve never enjoyed being naked beneath silk pajamas so much in my life! I felt so free, I jumped up and down on my bed like a kid. Jon was watching me with that look in his eyes. I might have let him have his way with me too, but he talked down to me and hurt my feelings. So I got mad and went to bed, naked underneath these silk pajamas. Let him dream on that one awhile!
Then thereís Burton. What a disappointment! I thought we had a pact to go to the final two. We sat as close as lovers on the beach late one night discussing our plans. When he waffled and said he wasnít thinking that far ahead, he began to sound like that cur Andrew to me. I thought we had something special. I thought we meant something to one another. But heís rejected me. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and by golly, I wonít be made a fool of twice in this game.
Thankfully after the tribal council this week, I realized I donít need Burton. Everyone loves me! I may well be the nicest, hardest working person to ever play Survivor. Iím sure Iím going to win this thing. Cincinnati, you have much to be proud of.
This just keeps getting better and better. We finally got rid of Christa. I mean, people may have wanted to get rid of Jon, but after Christa destroyed our food supply, she just couldn't stay. You know, I don't understand why everyone is so anti-Jon. I mean, sure, he may be a bit obnoxious. Sure, he really doesn't do all that much to contribute around the camp. But, who would you want to take to the Final 2 with you? Someone who's all sweetness and light and that everyone likes? No, you want to take someone who's a royal pain in the ass. These people should want to keep Jon around, but I guess I'm the only one who can see that.
My only problem right now is Lillian. I don't know if Lonnie doesn't pay her enough attention or what, but I'm beginning to think she's seeing our relationship as some sort of remake of "The Graduate". I may be as good-looking as Dustin Hoffman (hey, I think I'm better looking than Dustin Hoffman, but that's another story), but I'm here to say that Lillian is no Anne Bancroft. No siree, she isn't.
Well so this is how it all ends. What a bunch of drugged out Nazi losers. No wait, thatís my regular friends. So there were six left. Me, Sandra, ugh Burton, and Jon (who promised on Granny), against the dwarf and the scoutmaster. Really EZ, Iím still SO final four. I hated that reward challenge, except flashing the cameraman was kinda fun. I donít care if they cut it out or not, everyone knows any decent looking Survivor gal goes in Playboy anyway. Even if Jon went away with dwarf and scoutlady, heís not going to change his mind, right? I really hated the fact they all got to go away though. While they were away, stupid Burton starts grilling me on whatís up. Iím so good at lying. I canít wait til Burton is gone again. I lied at the immunity challenge too. I mean everyone understands sex, drugs and rock & roll, but draw the line at guns. I pretended I couldnít shoot, but I had to try and win. Jeff telling me how to hold the gun was precious. He so wants me. I almost got three targets in a row, but Ms mini southern belle got to them first. Oh well, that just means the scoutmaster is gone. Everyone was laughing and stuff at tribal council about all the lying going on here. I know Iím safe. Wait, did I just hear Jeff call my name? What do you mean I was the one being lied to? Everyone wants me around. Jeff called me a nice person when he announced my name. He really does want me. Oh well, I should be able to score back at loser lodge. This is Panama after all.
"Standing in the Shadows" is a weekly collaborative effort. Thanks to: AmandaG, Bill_in_PDX, Bumpkin, Cali, Eny, Feifer, Greenie, John, KylieGrant, Lobeck, Miss Filangi, Paulie, Shayla, Sher, Wayner, and Zhora!