Heh. Loving the title tonight. If the office chair in question is my actual office chair at work, then someone is going to get tossed on their tuchus for no apparent reason in the middle of a spreadsheet, and then the Blue Screen of Death will appear, and then all of the sudden the entire network will go down for the rest of the afternoon. So this could be interesting.
Seriously, though: The teams are going to Talladega this week, which can make for some great discomfort on the part of the Weavers. I really hope that it isn’t too bad this week, because while I think they’re crazy and maybe a little bit evil and seriously in desperate need of conditioning products, I still feel badly for them over what happened. I hope things were handled in the classy way to which Amazing Race fans are accustomed.
And since I have very few people left at this point to root for (as my second and third favorite teams are already gone): Go Gaghans! Sklonk away, wee Carissa!
Wow, that Schroeder family mom sure is skinny. And the daughter is so incredibly full of angst that it’s painful to witness.
This seems to be the make-em-or-break-em week. Those who haven’t been working well might suddenly find their strength, and those who have been cruising along might suddenly crash and burn.
And, really, isn’t it about time the Weavers got over this “anything to do with racing is evil and horrible” kick anyway? I mean, if I had their attitude, I’d still be unable to enter a bathroom because my dad died on the toilet. C’mon…
You cannot possibly imagine my fear for the future of America to realize that we do not know our own geography. Nor can you imagine the blue streak I just cussed at that statement, after I threw my IBC cream soda bottle cap at the television. (Objection! Irrelevant! State of mind, your honor! Overruled!)
Random observations: In context, this week’s title line was kind of stupid. I need one of those party bikes. Looks like there is a lot of puppy love happening on this Race (the Linz boys’ lust for the Bransen girls, and Carissa’s obvious crush on Phil). “The Pelican State” is a cooler state nickname than “The Keystone State,” but I don’t know why. Apparently I have not gotten enough sleep this week. I really wish they would do some kind of Detour that resembles “Flotillas or Chinchillas,” because the only thing cuter than wee Carissa Gaghan is wee Carissa Gaghan with an ever wee-er little furry thing in her backpack. Feather boas make Char Schroeder look like a giant chicken. Even when they’re quiet, the Paolos are obnoxious. Maybe they need to be bound and gagged and stuffed in the trunk of one of those SUV’s. The Gaghans got shit lucky this week. I really <heart> Phil.
Also … I get that B.P. is one of the major corporate sponsors of this edition of the Race, but they seriously couldn’t come up with a better task than “Go to this B.P. station and find Lester?” At least make them find Waldo or something. Damn! But next week: Out of the country! Whoo! Any idea where they’re going? I didn’t recognize the landscape, but I imagine that one of the Universal Constancies is that baseball fields look pretty much the same everywhere. Like tourists.
And finally, confidential to Ma Weaver: Get some damn conditioner NOW. You’re from Florida, so you KNOW what happens to your hair when you’re in humid climes in the summertime. Do NOT make me waste my next “Are you there, God? It’s me, rockle” message on your ass or we will have ISSUES. And when you get the complimentary Flowbee in the mail? That’s from me. You’re welcome. Start with your split ends because they’re making me monkeyshit. Nice job at Talladega, by the way. God helps those who help themselves, just remember that.
Well, since Mama Paolo managed to give her own son a papercut on the back of his neck (!!), I’m going to go with the second option. Plus, it looks like the older boy – what is his name, anyway? the one person in that clan who isn’t a complete toolbox? – might have a little bit of a leadfoot. Which I want to encourage in that family. All the sooner to drive off a bridge with.
As I said previously, it was at the ten minute mark that I wanted the Weavers and the Paolos dead again some more. The Weavers for yet another extended demand on the time and resources of the Almighty, and the Paolos for, well, existing pretty much. How immature do you have to be, when told that you’ve injured someone, to deny it reflexively?
The Gaghans almost screwed themselves with the assumption that the kids wouldn’t be able to do the sawing. Burned a lot of time playing blackjack (and curse the Weavers for being the luckiest people on the planet, 12 winning hands in three rounds? They should go to Vegas except they probably think gambling’s a sin) and cost themselves a couple of places.
I’m liking the Linzes better every week. The fart jokes have tapered off and they seem to be working better and having fun with each other and the other teams.
Pretty obvious who was going home this week. The Confidence Curse strikes again.
That would be the Confidence Curse. Hit the Paolos in the first ep, the Linzes (IIRC) in DC and now the Schroeders.
I’m really, really hoping that the teams aren’t going to Puerto Rico next week. Because then I would have to smack the taste out of Phil’s pretty mouth for saying that PR is out of the United States.
Oh! You reminded me! (I swear to God, I have to stop posting in these threads when I am sleep-deprived. Even when they’re my own threads.) I felt terrible for Stassi Schroeder, but I also felt a little relieved at the end, when her dad (Mark?) was doing his post-Race interview. Unlike Papa Rogers, he took full responsibility for what happened, and he seemed to be a much nicer and cooler person than he did while on the Race. I can imagine it must be the ultimate indignity, reality-show-wise, to be eliminated on your home turf, but I strongly suspect that this family is going to be OK. Stassi seemed much more understanding than Brock Rogers did when her father didn’t listen to her. Although I’m sure her father apologizing helped a whole big butt-load. (BTW, “Brock Rogers”? That’s the name of a future porn star if I ever heard one.)
If you guys are interested, CBS is launching a new Internet talk show about the Race, called “The Finish Line .” The first episode is tomorrow. One of the hosts is Clown Jon from Season 4. The link won’t take you to the show itself but it does provide more info.
[Anita voice] Puerto Rico is in America now! [/Anita]
I have no real info about that except to say that Internet sources have not listed that particular commonwealth among the places visited this season. Of course … it’s the Internet, so. I’ve seen no real spoilers, just the occasional article that my Google Alerts found for me. (BTW, my use of “commonwealth” there was a reference to my home state, which is in fact actually a commonwealth. But whatever. I need sleep.)
But Mom and Dad, while capable of astounding feats of strength and endurance, are dumber than a box of rocks. That blackjack game was dead easy. The best way to win is to let the dealer bust out. It seems to me that the Gaghans kept busting out by trying to get all four hands as close as possible to 21. This is hard to do without busting at least one hand. It doesn’t matter how low your cards are. Just stand and let the dealer draw, which he has to do.
Yeah, that was the lackluster part I was talking about. You’re right, I really meant AWSOME in the physical challeges.
Although I’m not sure I can say dumber than a box of rocks while I still have the Weavers around to compare them against.
Wow, stereotypes about the South much? And how low has the Race sunk? From the Taj Majal to a trailer park in Mississippi in eight easy seasons. I weep for my show.
It’s probably a good thing they’re staying mostly in the US, though – can you imagine Mama Weaver trying to figure out what continent she’s supposed to fly to if they tell her to fly to Switzerland, or India? (Although I’d pay good money to see her amongst all the “heathen” in India!)
I did, however, actually weep when I saw tonight’s greeter – the parade leader for the Olympia Brass Band. I love those guys. They’re not the best brass band in New Orleans, or the most popular, or the best known, but they are about the sweetest bunch of old guys you’d ever want to meet. I just hope they’re okay; the band isn’t listed on the WTOP radio comprehensive musicians list, but the musicians also sit in at Preservation Hall, which is fine and also reports all its musicians are fine, so I’m just hoping that includes the band. And their parade leader, with his fancy sash and top hat. :::sniffle:::