Sunday, April 26, 2009


Around the old chicken coop I like to call home, my hen, my little peep and I never miss an episode of “Survivor.” It’s a little more sophisticated than “Masterpiece Theater” and twice as entertaining.

Perhaps the most amazing part of “Survivor” is when the contestants’ occupations are superimposed on the screen, underneath their names. It doesn’t take long to realize that the vast majority of these people do not have real jobs. (They are also a bunch of dummies, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.)

Here are some of the actual job titles that belong to this season’s contestants:

• Soccer Coach:
First of all, nobody plays soccer in the United States unless they are between the ages of 5 and 9, and those soccer coaches are all voluntary. They don’t even keep score at those games, and every kid gets a trophy.

• Former Pop Star:
This player is African-American and quite overweight, but no, it’s not Aretha Franklin. Case closed—no one has ever heard of her.

• Bicyclist:
Again, it’s not Lance Armstrong. Therefore, no one is paying him to ride a frickkin’ bike.

• Hairstylist:
Like most hairdressers/stylists, her hair looks ridiculous. That must be a job requirement.

• Principal:
OK, now at least we have a real job, but I’m still suspicious. She must have filmed this season during summer vacation; otherwise, how could she leave her school for 30 days? Secondly, she is going to be a major distraction when she returns to school, because you can bet that every single one of her students watching this season is scrutinizing every square inch of her. When she returns to school, she is in for a world of hurt, and the sarcastic comments will be passed down for generations.

• Entrepreneur:
Do I really need to even comment on this one?


  1. Coach better be going home this weekend..

    Isn't your Mrs Franklin the wife of some spectacular football player or something?

  2. Jewels,

    Yeah, she just happened to casually mention that on the second episode or something.

    My hen practically walks out the room whenever Coach speaks, and my little peep and I just crack up. Personally, I always want the obnoxious ones to stay longer, 'cause that makes the show more fun to watch. Plus, I'm a masochist.