Props to Potes, as always. You've got...I don't know, something about waxes and faxes. It's true.
Why do I let reality television be smarter than me? WHY?
Hi, everyone. Djb here. You might recognize me from such recaps as "those three years I toiled in varying levels of fame and obscurity, watching people blow stuff up in the desert and then run away guiltily from the stuff they just blew up in the desert on Roswell" and "the day I watched my very first episode of Charmed." But tonight there's a very different kind of recap for me to write, and it's not one I'm sure I can do at all. It's not a recap written in another language or a recap I have to write without a chair or a recap about people whose intellect exceeds mine or yours or the average bowl of cashews. Instead, it's a recap of such tremendous volume (two hours? TWO HOURS?) written in such a frightfully short period of time (I'm on a plane to L.A. on Friday morning and before I'm gone this sucker is done) that I hope you'll stand by me through the next two exceedingly late nights of hair gel, hanky-panky, and Trista's increasingly hard-to-bear high, cackling laugh. Like, for instance, if I use the verboten, Gong Show-era-approved hyphenate "hanky-panky" just for its alliterative value even though it sounds really gay. Say you'll stay. We've already been through so much together. Well then, what am I waiting for? Your recap is served, and the season finale is on the menu! Hope you were hungry for "Disclaimer."
Wednesday, 10:22 PM. I just ate an entire box of Cheez Nips. Just thought you should know.
We're in the lady's chambers of Trista "Christian Oh The Time Has Come And You Know You're Not The Only One To Say...Okay" Rehn. The cameras wander inside to find her pretending to be asleep for the sake of some stray pick-up shots, but from the looks of her regal bedding, it's clear that she hasn't had a good night's sleep since the wily Brook snuck in under cover of darkness and disrupted her slumber with the strategic, mid-mattress placement of a single pea. In her arms is the stuffed Shamu that Rhymin' gave to her on their romantic date to Sea World. And you've got to give him credit for hanging in so long despite such terrible wooing opportunities; "a romantic date at Sea World" is as likely an expression as "an appendix removal at Chuck E. Cheese's." It just doesn't happen that often is all.