Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Why am I still watching Survivor?


No, really. I have no idea. It's a boring-ass show about 85% of the time, and my visceral hatred for Jeff Probst knows no limits.

Do I have everyone's permission to stop watching now? Please?

Perhaps I should present my case in full.

Exhibit A: Probst

Put simply, Jeff Probst, the host of Survivor, may be the most obnoxious jackhole on television. I hate him and his ass face. I understand that he's trying to be the host and all, but would it kill him to shut his gaping piehole for two seconds? Why must he yell at me through every damn challenge? Yes, JEFF, I can see that she untied the rope. YOU'RE NOT PROVIDING A SERVICE FOR THE BLIND HERE, JEFF. SHUT THE FUCK UP. I actually mute the TV during challenges he irritates me so badly. I can't stand his stupid yelling.

Then there are his idiotic little catch phrases, like "Worth playing for?" after he explains the rewards and "Immunity, back up for grabs." He's so self-important and smarmy, like he really sees himself as the beating heart beneath Survivor's breast or whatever, when in actuality all he does is strike a lot of poses in his Crocodile Dundee hat and make an ass of himself. If I hunted quail with him I would shoot him in that stupid hat.

On top of all this, I now have Jeff Probst-related Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Several months ago I ran across a link online titled something innocuous like, "Jeff Probst LOL." Thinking it might provide me a laugh at his expense, I clicked. Everything kind of goes black after that (though my therapist wants to try to recover the memories as soon as she deems me ready) but I do know the link took me to a photo and the photo . . . ahhhhhhh . . . I can't . . . thephotowasprobst wasnakedprobst holdinghispenisoutforthecamera. Probst . . . penis . . . please god let that be Photoshopped. The thing is, I believe he's the kind of person who would be full enough of himself to pose for such a photo, which causes the edges of my protective denial to wobble a bit. No, I refuse. Totally Photoshopped. I could not sleep ever again if I thought I had seen Jeff Probst's actual penis. It was Photoshopped, DAMN YOU.

[below, Feel the Hate]



Exhibit B: Everything Else


It's all just gone stale, hasn't it? If we're being honest? I'm only watching now from habit, like I keep thinking something will happen if I hang in. But nothing happens. The contestants always look exactly the same. The challenges always look exactly the same. They tried to rekindle interest by starting with four tribes this season, and that lasted . . . one episode. And the point of that? No idea. Couldn't care less about "Exile Island," because zzzzzzzzzz. You had a good run, Survivor, but I think it's time.

For the dramatic series finale, you can take the vaguely racist exoticizing of Others upon which the show was erected to its logical conclusion and throw Probst into a volcano. (Oh, god, "erect" and "Probst" in the same sentence and I have to go cry now.)



7 Comments:

At 7:05 PM, Anonymous dr. werner krauthammer said...

As a practicing Sighcologist with five degrees from three internet universities that are good in fourteen states, all red ones by coincidence, I have to say that the thrust of your column intrigued me.

It's my professional opinion that, yes, you really did see the symbollically mighty penis of Probst and as a result of that horrifying experience are suffering from that increasingly less obscure varient of PTSD known as "Probst Traumatic Stress Disorder, a disorder characterized by the primary symptoym of acute hostility towards the mumbled words and muddled language spoken by media personalities who sit on their face and talk out their mouths while wearing duffey hats.

 
At 9:30 PM, Blogger Shell said...

Ye gods!

Don't leave now! What's the cure??

 
At 10:55 PM, Anonymous Dr. Krauthammer, DDAD, Ph.X., MFEDA said...

Glad you asked that. Having predicted through deep thought and shcolarly expertise the statistical rise of what I have technically named and defined for all time as "Probst Trautmatic Stress Disorder" and being able to diagnose its many subvariants including but not limited to "Reversed Probst Penis Envy," "Probst Juvenalian Penile Multiple Dysfunctions," and the less commonly found deep pyschological phenonomon I call in my soon to be published article in a leading, prestigious professional journal, "Acute Flaccid Probst Droopy Disorder."

 
At 1:49 AM, Blogger Belle said...

LOL! Funny stuff. Yeah, I got my fix during the first 3 seasons and that was about all of the reality thing I could deal with. I'm pretty turned off by reality TV in general these days as it has bombarded the air waves. But it was fun while it lasted, lol!

 
At 12:20 PM, Blogger Shell said...

I am so honored to have such a distinguished personage as Dr. Krauthammer visit my blog.

I guess I'm going to have to face my trauma head-on and find a link to those photos and post it here for your (purely scientific) perusal. They're worse than the barf drinking dude, though.

 
At 1:00 PM, Anonymous Dr. Krauthammer, ETC. said...

Please, call me Werner.

From my studied analysis of your blog, I would deduce that you will require therapy for Probst Disorder for quite some time. Your determined desire to comb the World Wide Web in search of a naked picture of the dangling thing itself and thus revisit the site of a near death experience surely points to in my extremely learned opinion as one of the many possible forms of Potential Permanant Probst Disorder. I would hypothesize that the image of the dangling thing has burrowed into the archetype portion of your brain and is now, even as I so porpusefully pronounce, in the process of deleting the benign archetypal images stored there and replacing them with images of an "ASS-FACED" Probst in a Crocodile Dundee hat. Rest assured there is a cure. My rates are reasonable, and I accept all major credit cards.

By the way, as you research my credentials, you may come across a book in which I and my new field of Probst Studies appear prominently, called, "Probst Smear: The Untold Story of a Vicious Academic Attack on Jeff Probst, America's Favorite Stud." Ignore this scandalous book. The author is a scoundrel who makes many defamatory remarks about my reputation such as claiming that I received ALL of my degrees from Internet University of Uraguay.

 
At 4:06 PM, Blogger Shell said...

"Rest assured there is a cure. My rates are reasonable, and I accept all major credit cards."

Well, THAT's a relief and no mistake!

I swear I didn't click on the penis pictures this time. Maybe I'll forget. . . someday. . .

I'm so glad you came around, though--you're completely cracking me up. :)

 

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