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i will admit, with some shame, that i was on THE EDGE OF MY SEAT last night watching survivor. i was. i was supposed to be doing the dishes, but i would run to the couch, sit down on the edge, lean forward (you know, so as to REALLY CONNECT with the new cast), and inhale it all in through my gaping maw.

i never thought i could have a gaping maw, but i think i acheived it last night.

see, the good thing about these survivors (which i thought would be the bad thing) knowing how the game works is that they are less naive; they know from the minute they are interacting not to trust, not to let their emotions get in the way, to be little Richard Hatches of their own.

sadly, debb had a wee bit too much susan hawk in her to stick around. too bad, i would have been thoroughly amused by her.

maralyn, on the other hand, the retired police officer nicknamed "MAD DOG" sends the sirens in my head crazy. i don't buy that soft pink lipstick and those clumsily selected gold earrings in the "at home" intro shots. mad dog will not advance significantly, but i'm rooting for her. y'know, my "own kind" and all.

i also like jeff for the puking and potential gayness, and mitchell for the obvious gayness. i mean, "singer-songwriter"? c'mon, why don't you just put "GOTTA DANCE! GOTTA SING!" down on your profile?

i smell shades of "real world" season one, what with the fag and the texan. bound to be lotsa laffs.

ok. it's obvious that the obsession is back, the analysis is on, and it won't go away.

god help you all.