Tiki Tantrum

Church smirch! I’ve hit jackpot, the money, euphoria! I thought that my craving for alcohol could never be satiated, but lo’ and behold I finally understand Conor’s obsession with Survivor! Oh, don’t misunderstand me, it really is a grotesque union to all that is lowly, earthy, and base. But now that I think about it, the whole eating random insects for nourishment thing is all very “John the Baptist”. I guess Conor, with his superior intellect, must have found a great deal of spiritual meaning in the show or he never would have watched it. For myself, I am just perusing all of Conor’s past interests for clues as to where he might have disappeared to. Good F*ing luck! How many seasons of Survivor have there been anyways, and how many islands is that? Nine or ten at least! Oh well.
Who am I kidding? By the time I got to the 5th season, I tried to hang myself on a tiki torch. Oh, I know. It sounds like I want attention. The truth is I miss those Thursday evenings when we used to put on our favourite Survivor bandanas and parade around the house naked just like the natives would have. *Sigh* If only Conor were here. We could scare Randy off with our maleness and drink beer to the sound of whining contestants talk about alliances and betrayal. Oh I know, Conor isn’t much for the whole naked thing, but survivor touched him in a way that nothing else could. I think that brought out the animal in him.

Bleary-eyededly yours,
Grunt