Previously on My Language May Be Clean, But Some Of My Thoughts Are Downright Phil-thy: Sarah found her power, although unfortunately, it was not the power to truss Peter up like a turkey and ship him off to be a holiday meal for the needy. Rob and Kimberly kept on fighting like the Pointies they are, but they finished first anyway, which just goes to prove that sensible hair isn't everything, and neither is the illusion of civility. Tom attempted to make like the Little Balding Crazy That Could, tugboating away with a sampan in defiance of all physics and logic, but it just wasn't enough, and he and Terry were Philiminated. This was good news for Dustin and Kandice, who survived in spite of not exactly making a great showing for that whole "it's a scholarship competition" thing by failing to read their clue before soaking it like a magazine dropped in the tub. Seven teams are left. Who will be eliminated... next?
Credits. You know, I'm glad that Dustin and Kandice are shown trying to hail a taxi, because it's about time that some light was shed on the social problem of young hot blondes who are unable to get cab drivers to pick them up. I hear it's particularly bad when they try to get picked up alone. [BOMP.]
Commercials. There isn't anything I like more than Hugh Jackman, and I still don't know if I'm going to watch an entire movie about magicians, because there isn't much I like less than David Copperfield.
We race across a stretch of water dotted with jutting cliffs as Phil explains that we are in Halong Bay in northern Vietnam. Phil calls it "a stunning seascape" where I assume she sells seashells by the seashore. Phil explains that this here was the fourth pit stop. I would like it if, in one of these episodes, Phil suddenly said, "This idyllic locale, revered by locals and tourists alike, was not a pit stop, but I came here on vacation once, and it is awesome, and I put it in my contract that they had to bring me here so that I could show it... to you."
1:47 AM. Rob and Kimberly. Rob is wearing a headlamp that does a nice job of exaggerating the appearance of his fauxhawk. The clue tells them to fly to Chennai, India. Phil nails this trip at more than 3000 miles, adding that they'll have to go to Hanoi by train first. Furthermore, you can't buy tickets at airline counters in Vietnam, so they'll need to choose a travel agency. "We're going to India, honey," Rob says as they leave the mat. "You ready for some curry?" I have this nonspecific sensation like the eyes of millions of Indian people just rolled back in their heads. "Right, right, curry," they are all saying. "You're going to call me 'Apu,' aren't you?" It would seriously be nice if racers could have something to anticipate about going to other countries rather than the food. We've already gone the embarrassing route of Mongolian barbecue, after all. Rob explains to us that he sees the race as "a metaphor for a life together." He thinks this is because they have a common goal and are working together, but I think it's because they're tired and pissed off all the time, they shower less and less as time progresses, and more and more strangers don't want to get involved with them. Furthermore, Rob could stand to shave, you know? It's not Survivor, dude. You're allowed to have a razor, and it doesn't take up that much room. I don't understand why he's allowing this scraggly nastro-turf to grow on his neck, especially since it seems to be carefully avoiding the actual front of his face. They get in a taxi to the train station.