If they get to Minnesota, there’s always lutefisk…
I’d pay good money to see that.
Oh, I agree. I don’t need to see someone trying to choke down six pounds of gross foods (read: local delicacies 
), I just want to see them trying to eat some of it.
They’re in the Mid-Atlantic, the “Gross Food Challenge” could be steamed crabs. There are plenty of people who like them, but there are just as many who are totally grossed out by having to rip the legs off, pull the shell apart and scoop out guts and lungs before getting to the delicious meat.
OOOOooo, they’re coming to the South. It would be great to see chitterlings on the menu!
To raise the stakes, you could force the families to be the ones to prepare them, too: here is a plastic kiddie pool with rocks and seawater and a bunch of crabs scuttling around merrily. There is an barbecue pit with a grill, and big pot and a little bucket that holds maybe a pint. Scattered around the area is firewood. About a 50 feet away is a water tap.
Task: you have to gather wood and build a fire in your pit. You have to carry enough bucketfulls of water to fill the pot to the line. You have to heat the water to a boil. Then each member of the team must catch a crab and drop it into the water, and finally eat them when they’re cooked.
The appearance of crabs is bad enough for some, but a whole lot more people are squeamish about having to actually kill their own food.
,
Well, yeah, there is a bit of the “showbiz kid” in her … but at the same time, she’s young enough yet that she can be salvaged. We can save her! We can keep her from becoming a bitter psychotic attention-whore, like other reality show contestants, and just turn her into a bitter psychotic who makes fun of other attention-whores. It’ll be fun, if by “fun” you mean, “just like my real-live life.”
Oh, and do Draelin, et al., out there: I had a dream last night where Phil came to my house because he read about “Flotillas or Chinchillas” and he wanted me to be the official Detour-namer for the Race. He said I could have my name in the credits and everything. When I came up with something called “Flunkies or Monkeys,” he said he wanted to run away with me and get married. Does this mean I should stop taking Benadryl before bed?
No, it just means you need to stop making your own Benadryl in your basement lab. 
I weep for the future of our Republic.
“Flunkies or Monkeys”? Heh.
Detour: Flunkies or Monkeys. In “Flunkies,” team members must don off-the-rack business suits and perform putatively business-oriented projects for the benefit of a toupee-wearing egomaniac. The task is not physically demanding, but teams will be subject to living with a group of tiresome, self-inflated know-it-alls, and may find themselves in a Boardroom setting subject to firing at a whim. In “Monkeys,” team members must remove most of their clothes and live in the jungle for weeks while performing make-work challenges and attempting to manipulate each other. The task requires little thought, but teams will be subject to living with a group of whiny, self-absorbed drama queens, and may find themselves invited to the inaptly named Tribal Council.
Here’s my thoughts on why they are doing an extended stay in the U.S…
By doing families they have doubled the number of players in the game. That means double the expense and logistics.
Can you imagine the expense and logistics of flying 44 people around the world? (Plus adding a camera man for each team)
My bet is they will travel around the U.S. eliminating a team every time until they get the numbers whittled down to where traveling outside the U.S is a more do-able option.
I am SO not worthy.
Too late. Mama Weaver has already spawned, and repeatedly.
- A zut fan