Lard Asses Fighting In The Torrential Environment
Diaryland Survivor is too slow a game for me. Not like dodge ball. Now that's a fucking game. In dodge ball you get a ball, you get a bunch of kids, you hit each other with the ball, last person not pegged by the ball wins. None of this voting off bullshit. Know how you get voted off in dodge ball? It's when a ball the size of a large globe get's flung at your head. The tribe has spoken, beyatch!
See, THAT my friends is a game. Diaryland Survivor's a bit different.
See, what we have to do, now that we have been split up into two tribes (Yay! I'm on a team! Yay! We're the fucking Get-Along Gang! Yay!) is get together with 5 other people to write one little entry in 48 hours.
A brilliant fucking idea if there ever was one. Hardly gives you enough time to divorce yourself from your family and quit your job as would be required to compete in these terms. But hey, who said the game would be wihtout sacrafice? Not the Nazi bastards making the rules of this game lemme tell ya.
Anyways, the 6 person entry....not an easy thing to do.
Don't believe me? Try this at home. Go to your kitchen and make Jell-o. Not too hard, was it? Now invite 5 people to come over and make Jell-o too. Remember, it's just one batch of Jell-o. Not everybody making their own Jell-o.
Next, give everybody a 48 hour window to come over and help you with the Jell-o. Chances are you the 6 of you will not be able to find a time when you can work on it all at once. So what you'll have to do is start boiling the water, and waiting for someone to take it from there. But by the time person X come's about, the water has already evaporated and the first person has to start with the water again. You get the idea.
Anyways, the points I'm trying to make here is there's always room for Jell=O, and Uncle Bob and his tribe suck more than the Hilton sisters partying aboard an aircraft carrier manned by 3,000 sailors.
Now THAT'S alot of seamen.