Marcellas now goes into a very, very funny quasi-breakdown in the diary room, huddling against the side of the chair and ranting about how close he is to going over the edge. He pounds the armrest. "The bathrooms are making me crazy! The food is making me crazy! The phony [POUND] camaraderie [POUND] is making [POUND] me [POUND] sick [POUND]!" Hee! I love him. He keeps going, sounding less and less like himself: "I'm gon' die, I'm gon' die...I'm gon' wake up one day and be day-uhd." Oh, Marcellas. Do come over here and sit next to me.
Lori diary-rooms that "things are starting to get ugly in the house," and she channels the Church Lady like you wouldn't believe. Complete with tight little mouth.
And now, in one of my favorite quotes of the game so far, Gerry tells us that "Josh is still operating under the old paradigm." Gerry, Josh couldn't operate under a paradigm if it were suspended over his head from a hydraulic winch. Josh doesn't know what a paradigm is. Josh doesn't know what "operating" is. Josh doesn't know what "under" is, unless it's followed by "arrest" or "wear." ["And for making me imagine Josh's underwear, you, Miss Alli, are fired." -- Wing Chun] In the Aquarium Room, Josh tells Gerry that no matter what, Gerry should just stick to the alliance plan. Gerry snootily continues reading his book like an irritated girlfriend, pointedly giving Josh nothing and allowing him to stew in his own juices. "The alliance has no realization that I'm about to trump their hand and throw everything into chaos," he intones in the diary room with great gravity. You can't actually trump an entire hand all at once, of course. But I guess that's not really the point.
Am I required to cover the ass-smacking segment? Am I really? Can't we just pretend it never happened? No? Okay. Josh likes to smack people on the ass. Especially, but not exclusively, women. Their consent is not required. Smack. Smack. Smacksmacksmack. Someone thinks this is funny, but it's not me. Marcellas and Danielle, in particular, don't appreciate it one bit. (Marcellas, in a hilariously motherly tone: "Don't hit the black people on their butts.") You know, this is only the second recap, and I'm pretty much out of ways to describe my loathing of Josh. They're all inadequate anyway. He continues to knock prior reality-show contestants off their perches on my Most Despised list, however. I've already explained that I hate him much more than Mike Boogie, and now it's safe to say that I would rather star in a remake of The Defiant Ones in which I spend long periods of time handcuffed to Wil, dependent upon him for my personal liberty and water supply, than spend five minutes in the same room with Josh, even if I could be shielded by a sheet of antibacterial plexiglass.