Surreal Life: A “Strike” Against Special People – “Spare” me the Hate Mail
The show began innocently enough with its downright creepy opening circus montage and early morning scenes of the houseguests. Instead of the normal 7 C-listers, there were 9. Apparently Janice Dickinson (The World’s First Supermodel™) made the show’s producers agree to allow her hair and makeup guys (Duke and Gabriel) prepare her for each day’s shooting. I guess because she’s Janice Dickinson (World’s First Supermodel™), she can do these things. Oddly, she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by this extravagance but rather, seemed to revel in it. I’m just surprised that Duke and Gabriel signed the consent form, seeing as though their 2 hours of work made the old hag (and World’s First Supermodel™) appear only slightly less old and haggish.
Once she was dolled up, the show could proceed with the day’s first planned event – a Jose Canseco book signing. As everyone is undoubtedly aware, Jose recently wrote a book called “Juiced” in which he essentially said everyone in baseball is on steroids, including such media darlings as Mark McGwire. Initially, it appeared the entire crowd consisted of little kids, so there’d be no fireworks. Jose did joke (though he was probably somewhat serious) about security and that some people may want to shoot him. “Or maybe McGwire will send someone.” Wow, the steroid charges were dicey enough, now he’s saying McGwire is capable of hiring a hitman? Quick, someone call a congressional hearing! Once the little kids got their books, some older fanboys made their way to the table – and some of them were not happy. Jose Canseco is a big dude – a REALLY big dude. Some of these little twits, secure in the knowledge that they were on camera, tested the wife-beating convicted felon with things like, “Please sign the book ‘To Matt, sorry I killed baseball.'” Five years ago in a coke-fueled ‘roid rage, I think “To Matt, sorry I killed you,” would have been more apt. Canseco is a prick, sure, but you just know that Matt is too.
Before all of this, Omarosa was bossing around the others in an attempt to make the signing as orderly as possible. She was being her usual bossy, bitchy, annoying self but Balki wasn’t having it. He shot back at one of her orders, telling her to stop trying to run everything her way, to which she replied, “If we don’t have a plan, it will all go array.” Balki didn’t recoil, saying that the word is “awry,” and telling her that she should learn English. Wow, having a sheep farmer from Mypos correct your English is pretty embarrassing. Unfortunately, Omarosa is incapable of feeling embarrassment, so she went on her merry way. Then the “Surreal Times” newspaper arrived at their doorstop. “Get Ready to Roll” its headline blared. “Get ready” indeed.
The rules of the mystery game stated that one cast member would have to be the captain of the opposing team, so Janice magnanimously volunteered to do it. Once at the bowling alley, however, Janice suddenly changed her mind for no reason, forcing a different housemate to step up. It turned out to be Omarosa, which rubbed Janice the wrong way for some reason. She blurted out, “Omarosa, the whore,” for all to hear. Just as these two women were about to come to blows, the coach for the other team announced their arrival. “Here they are! The Sunshine Strikers!” A quick shot of Janice saying “Oh. My. God.” and it was time for a commercial.
Fortunately, Midseasonreplacements ads are off to the side so we don’t need to keep you waiting. But what if I want to? What if this annoying, useless, stupid pause is creating the necessary tension to introduce the main piece of my recap? See how that worked? Before I knew what had hit me, several retarded kids came bursting through a giant piece of paper with the “Sunshine Strikers” logo on it. Being retarded and all, each of them stumbled through it with the agility and aplomb of a drunken Kool Aid man. They each were told to scream an imposing scream and affect a tough-guy pose. Whoever came up with this idea needs to re-examine how this looks to a-holes like me. A Mongoloid in a “Pump me Up” stance shouting at the top of his lungs is, um, it’s… ok, it’s retarded. What do you want me to say? Balki, showing the world his tolerance and acceptance lamented, “Kill me now.” Wow, it’s not that bad, is it Balki? And besides, wouldn’t you rather live with the whole lot of the Strikers rather than one Omarosa anyway?
The winning team would receive free pizza and some little gold painted plastic trophies to boot. Now that’s somethin’ worth fightin’ for! The losing team would be forced to clean a whole mess of bowling shoes. After each cast member said what he or she thought was the most acceptable euphemism for “retarded,” we got to meet the Sunshine Strikers. An initially affable lot, to say the least: Captain Sunshine Steve, who must have a lifelong history of uncontrollably biting dentist’s finge – ugh, you know what? I can’t make fun of these guys. They don’t really qualify as media/reality whores do they? Goddamn it, this is tougher than I thought. Ok, how’s this one…after meeting Christopher, the most animated of the bunch, we had the pleasure of learning about Chastity, the cute little blonde with the ringlets. Chastity has the distinction of being the first woman I’ve ever heard of, met, or given a dollar to who is actually chaste. Congratulations, Chastity, now let’s grab those balls and start to play! Uh, Christopher…the bowling balls, dude.
Immediately, The Sunshine Strikers heckled the Surreal Lifers. “Gutta Baww,” screamed Chastity at Caprice. “Bite me,” yelled Christopher to Janice. Janice, being the World’s First Supermodel™, refused to take such insults lying down. “Bite you? Bite me!” was her witty reply. Chris countered with “Yeah right Toots!” Just then, Balki attempted to bowl and ended up dropping his ball backwards. Just who are the retards here anyway? Wondrously inexplicable as this whole scene was, it was about to get even better.
And by “better” I mean “I can’t believe what I’m hearing/seeing.” Janice had finally had enough of Christopher’s endless trash talking, so she tried to cool out with Balki. (I’m quoting, so don’t blame me for the following two sentences.) “That little retard’s gonna pop a f*ckin’ vein. That little retard keeps telling me to bite him.” “That little retard doesn’t seem to appreciate what it means to be the World’s First Supermodel™, what is he, retarded?” Sensing Janice was not exactly coming off in the best possible light, Balki whispered to her, “Don’t use the word ‘retards’ because their parents can hear you.” No, not because it’s INCREDIBLY INSENSITIVE and DOWNRIGHT EVIL, but because “their parents might hear you.” Gotcha Balki, thanks.
So Janice changed her stripes and switched to yelling out, “You stink, Rainman!” Baby steps. With the Sunshine Strikers up 680-659, little Chastity started singing, “Nah Nah Naaaah nah, Hey Hey Hey, Goot-byyye.” For years I’ve hated that song at sporting events, even going so far as to call it “retarded.” Nice to know I was right! Not knowing anything about bowling scoring (and not ever wanting to), I had no idea if Chastity’s mockery was justified or not. Apparently not – ok, like you’re good at math? Don’t hate on my Chastity. Pepa quietly stepped up to the lane and proceeded to bowl three straight strikes. Boom, boom, boom and the Surreal Lifers were in the lead with only one turn to go. Who in the world would take delight in beating the Sunshine Strikers? One person who would is Pepa, who hooted and hollered all over the alley as though she’d just beaten Parker Bohn III, not Corky Thatcher and his gang. (Parker Bohn III is like, the best bowler ever. Or something.) My jaw dropped to the floor as it looked like the Sunshine Strikers would be cleaning shoes while Pepa and Janice chowed down on their pizza.
The tension was palpable as Omarosa stepped up for the Strikers. Living up to the complete failure that she is, she bowled a gutter ball. Jose Canseco could taste the pepperoni…one more chance for the Boardroom Bitch…the ball was away, it wobbled, it teetered, it…it…was a strike! The Strikers win! Thank goodness. I wouldn’t have wanted to see Captain Sunshine Steve chomping down on some shoes, mistaking it for the pizza he was assuredly promised before the match. In the end, the whole event garnered $1380 for some charity. And no, I’m not missing any 0’s in that figure either. To think, these narcissistic douchebags almost made a bunch of retarded bowlers cry and go hungry while raising less than fourteen hundred bucks. Just as the show was ending, I saw that Carey Hart guy walk by in the background. “Oh yeah,” I muttered, “that guy is on this show too.”
Sg-dub’s Final Thought: (Cue twinkly piano.) As we travel this life we have choices. Choices regarding how we act in certain circumstances. Sometimes life throws us a curveball and we must choose to act one way or another – either as a vainglorious reality whore…or as a nice, caring person. As we saw on today’s show, just because you have achieved a modicum of fame in your little corner of the universe and you can take care of yourself, that doesn’t mean you aren’t a retard. You see, Omarosa, the word is “awry” and it does matter. Jose, writing book about beating your wife and doing drugs is, well, it’s only made worse by going on a show to promote your book about beating your wife and doing drugs. Pepa, you may know how to “push it real good,” but you should have modified that verb back when you had the chance. And Janice, how do you feel about yourself after hurling insults at the Sunshine Strikers? Really, folks, take an inward look and think about who the real retards in this world are. Take care and we’ll see ya tomorrow!