Diary Survivor Immunity Challenge #1

Dear Diary,

I have decided to write about my experiences on the island, so that after I get kicked off, I can cash in on some kind of book deal… I want my memories to be fresh!

Today, I arrived on the island. We had to row in on a little boat. I tried to get away with the non-rowing, like that girl on the TV Survivor show – but, the guy with all the pots and pans said my boobies weren’t big enough. Go figure!

The island itself seems okay. It’s hot, and I’m not sure where I packed my sunscreen. My white on white skin is gonna be burned to a crisp. Maybe I can find some aloe vera plants growing wild. Hell, there’s probably a 7/11 just over the next hill…

Okay. So, I park the boat, and haul my stuff off. Clothes, hair stuff, makeup (gotta look good for the cameras!), portable television/DVD player, 1st season box set Queer As Folk DVD (Gawd, I hope my kidlet will remember to record each and every episode, PLUS the letterbox version on Tuesday nights…)

Anyway, I bring my stuff over to where quite a few of the other potential survivors are already hanging out. It’s a pretty motley crew. First person I see – and who could miss him – is this an attractive, asian guy wearing a shirt with a huge, red Maple Leaf on it, and BLUE STREAKS in his hair! Those streaks are gonna suffer in this sun. They’ll be seafoam green in about a week, I’ll betcha. He’s talking very quietly with a lovely, fragile looking young woman whom I can hear tell him about her father recently being ill. He seems to be sympathetic, however, they MIGHT just be forming a little alliance. Better keep my eyes on those two…

I wandered around for a while, and set my belongings down. I rifled my duffel bag to find my spare batteries, and set up the TV/DVD in as shady a spot as I could find. I figured I would watch Episode 1 of QAF. Can’t get enough of that Brian Kinney’s adorable backside… All of a sudden, I find myself with a whole new bunch of buddies! First, this British sounding woman with puffy cheeks, from obvious recent dental work, approached me. From what I could understand (her words were pretty muffled by the rolls of cotton and gauze still in her mouth) she wanted me to know that the British version of QAF was “far superior” the American version. I offered her a seat on the ground near me, to witness the amazing coupling of Brian and Justin… As we sat in amazement, a fellow who fancies himself to be a television critic introduced himself. He said he loves all kinds of televised entertainment. - from The Gilmore Girls to boxing matches. However, he kept covering his eyes while watching QAF with us… All of a sudden, I heard a scream, and turned to see what the trouble was. A woman came running toward us waiving her arms and grinning hysterically. “Oh, my GAWD!!!! I won't have to miss QAF!!” “ Did you know that I AM Michael Novotny?!!” she exclaimed "Even though you can't always tell" “Well, sit down sister!” I said, as we all huddled closer to the screen.

About that time, the heavenly scent of buttered popcorn came wafting by. An amazingly talented woman had somehow managed to create, from absolutely NOTHING – a bowl of freshly popped corn. As we thanked her profusely, she brushed off the compliments with “Hey, I’m a mom. I create miracles before BREAKFAST”. She twirled away, her apron billowing on the breeze.

After a few hours, and several episodes, I was startled out of my hypnotic trance by some shouting in the distance. Apparently, one member of our little group had managed to smuggle in, a set of hockey sticks and a puck! Now, there isn’t a bit of ice anywhere to be found on our island, but she and a very young looking woman – who had obviously been drinking a fair amount of beer, were engaging in a boisterous game of hockey! The TV watching group, stretched and yawned, and turned it’s attention to the reveling athletes before us.

That’s when it happened… the intoxicated woman got a lucky shot off with the puck. It sailed swiftly through the air, until it came into unfortunate contact with the right cheek of one unsuspecting hockey fan. There were screams, and tears, and much howling (and that was just from the crowd!!) All at once, a heroic woman stepped into the fray. “It’s alright! She shouted. I work at a hospital! Well, actually, in the payroll department – but, I see a lot of doctoring, and I know what to do. Now, stand back, and give me some room!”

“Don’t touch that girl!” another voice shouted. Everyone was silent, and the shorter ones’ craned their necks to see who it was… “Please. Don’t touch her until I get some photographic evidence of this near-tragedy.” With that, she whipped out her fancy-schmancy camera, and took detailed photographs of the bloody and oozing facial injury. “This is bound to get me a good grade” she muttered with a certain amount of glee. As she finished her evidence gathering, she deliberately stepped on, and squished a rare, brown-hairy spider. “We have those same bloody bastard spiders in the outback” she said to the young man in the USS Enterprise uniform. He was busy talking SF/F with an EXTREMELY masculine man who was holding the latest Neil Gaiman novel. "You know", the intrepid Captain Kirk began, "It's quite possible to meet the woman of your dreams through Diaryland." "Yeah, well with my luck, she'd only want me to tutor her in English" his new buddy replied.

The courageous hospital worker had cleaned the wound, and it looked like it was going to heal nicely. “I forgot my first aid kit. I’m going to have to use whatever we can find here on the island to bandage your wound” “Nevermind. I’ve got the perfect bandage” said the battered hockey fan, as she stuck a post-it note to her cheek…

As the sun set that first evening on the island, our plucky little group sat around the camp fire, and listened as a beautiful young woman played violin and danced around the fire. She only set her long, flowing skirts a-flame twice….

Gee. I hope that tomorrow, Jeff Probst shows up with some freakin’ food, or a map, or a box with a magnifying glass… I stink. I need a shower. Oh, God. I’m bloated. Am I getting PMS already? Geez, there’s SAND in my sleeping bag…. Why, oh WHY do I volunteer for these things?????

March 06, 2002

Buh Bye!
October 05, 2008

Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
September 01, 2008

One Last Bitchfest for the Road
August 24, 2008

Get the Popcorn Ready
July 17, 2008

I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
June 20, 2008

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