The Tribe Has Spoken

Hooray! A new season of Survivor starts tonight, and in HD no less!

I wanna be a contestant on Survivor. Ever since the first episode of the very first season, I’ve wanted to put my multitudes of manly skills to the test in an effort to win a million bucks.

Granted, I don’t really have any particular manly skills that would be helpful in winning Survivor, but it would sure be fun to try. I don’t know a thing about building a shelter out of palm tree leaves, and I’d imagine that if I were alone on an island I’d starve to death within a matter of just a few hours.

But every season there’s always some cranky middle-aged person who can’t quite relate to the younger contestants, who generally spends all their time whining, and who always ends up getting voted out first. That’s the person I’d like to be on an upcoming season. Except for the getting-voted-out-first part.

I’d spend the first day being overly critical of how my tribe was building its shelter. I’d stomp around, lambaste them and tell them they’re doing it all wrong (even though I have no idea how to do it properly), and then I’d go sulk on the beach, pretending to be mad. But in reality I’d just use this opportunity to relax on the sand and get a nice tan. Same deal with the fishing and whatnot.

When it comes time for the first challenge, I’d fake a knee injury. Or maybe I’d fake an orgasm; that would stir things up. (At this point I’m obviously typing under the assumption that nobody actually ever reads blogs, right?) Anyway, the key is to be flexible, and know what to fake and when. At night, I’d sneak out of the camp and hang out with Jeff Probst at the bar.

Why would my tribe keep me along? Entertainment value, for one. I’d always keep them guessing as to what I’d be doing next. And if they started getting bored with me, I’d dazzle them with my luxury item: the Rubik’s Cube.