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EPISODE #1110 |
alternatively titled
Here's To Wishing Jason Voorhees Was
At Kyle's Lake House |
Real World? REAL Uneventful. |
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Yep. Another week, another baaaaad episode of The Real World.
The episode opened with the roommates packing and getting ready for the weekend at Kyle's lake house. Cara was chasing
Chris around the apartment, screaming, "You looovvee Kurt! You want to have a million babies with him!" Please. What's next?
The entire house gathering together by the hot tub to sing "Kurt and Chris sitting in a tree?" What grade are we in, people?
And come on. Chris having Kurt's baby? Since when did the Real World house turn into the set of that heinous Arnold
Schwarzenegger movie Junior?
Everyone (but Tonya) piled into the elevator and they were on their way.
As soon as Kyle noticed Tonya wasn't in the elevator, he closed the door faster than Inspector #5 could reject a
miscut pair of Gap khakis. Unfortunately, Tonya arrived at that very moment and hitched a ride down with the rest of
the roommates.
Once they arrived at the lake house, Kyle announced, "This is the ple-zace!" Simmer down, Puff Daddy. Don't get your
boxers in a bunch. Looks like Kyle's been watching too many episodes of MTV's Cribs. And to think I always
called it the "hiz-zouse." Boy, was I wrong.
Next, Keri exclaimed, "I'm at the lake house and I don't feel like it's Kyle and I. I feel like it's the 7 of us." Well no
shit? Maybe that's because it WAS the 7 of you (well, the 8 of you if you want to count Cara's nose.)
Cut to Kyle giving everyone a tour of the house. As soon as he pointed out a set of bunkbeds, Cara screamed out, "Ooh, I wanna
be on top!" This girl couldn't be more of a whore if she had a two bit stapled to her forehead.
Next, the roommates went out to play on Kyle's daddy's powerboat. Tonya and Justin flung themselves into the water and hung
on to a raft for dear life as Kyle pulled them all over the water. Suddenly, Joe Rogan appeared and said,
"That's right, Tonya and Justin, apparently fear is not a factor for you." He then mysteriously disappeared. And hey, glad
to see that getting thrown around in the water didn't wreak havoc on Tonya's kidneys!
Cut to Kurt and Chris swimming in the pool, while Aneesa and Keri were screaming sexual innuendos at them. "Kiss! Make out! Hook up!"
Man, where's Jason Voorhees when you need him? You'd think he'd be all over that, a bunch of dorky kids hooking up and making
out at a deserted lake house. You've really let me down this time, Jason. You've got nothing on Michael Meyers. Gee,
if only they were there on Halloween...
...and what was with all of the close-up shots of balls popping up and down and bouncing all around in the pool when Chris
and Kurt were hooking up? Discuss amongst yourselves.
Cut to Kyle sitting in the hot tub looking more upset than Martha Stewart after hot glue-gunning her hand to a piece of
decorative seasonal wood. Of course, a montage of black & white "Keri" scenes followed. Keri laughing. Keri eating. Keri taking
a dump. Keri hitting herself in the lip with her shoes. Keri combing a doll's hair. Keri setting up dominos. Keri doing the
Macarena. Keri on a pottery wheel forming a dildo for Aneesa. Keri spanking a keebler elf on the ass. Yes, there were more
shots, but I'll spare you. Plus, they cut to a commercial break so MTV could promote the Osbournes a little more.
After the break, we returned to find Kyle still looking pathetic in the hot tub,
praying quietly to himself. Thankfully, I can read lips, and what he said was, "Dear God, I need another Princeton shirt. This
one smells because I wear it every day, and I don't think Keri likes it. Amen."
Cut to some boring, random shots of Chris bartending at a place called Crobar. Kurt showed up, stayed for three
hours (stalker much?), and repeatedly asked Chris if he wanted a ride home. Please. Kurt was more transparent than
Gwenyth Paltrow's dress at the Oscars. What he was really asking was if Chris wanted a ride AT home. One little word. So
much meaning.
Back home, a scabby-elbowed Chris was complaining to Tonya about how Kurt just sat there and watched him work for 3 hours.
The two were whispering, and I could barely hear them. Come on, MTV. Throw me a frickin' bone here. I left my Miracle Ear
in the car. Greg Louganis spit water in left ear. Mike Tyson bit my right earlobe off. I just got back from a John Tesh
concert. Crank it up a notch, will ya?
Cut to Kyle and Keri spooning together on the couch. Kyle said, "You know what it would be like here without cameras?" What's
that, Kyle? Even more un-cool than it is now? Some more fun-filled whiny nights of eating ice cream?
Keri thought for a minute, and then replied, "Yeah, we'd be like jackrabbits on steroids."
Just then, the Energizer Bunny cut in, ran over Kyle's ego, and scampered away.
Suddenly, we saw two bodies in bed together, moving around more than Michelle Kwan in a centrifuge. Once the camera zoomed in,
I was somewhat shocked to see that it was Keri and Kyle. Thanks, but I could have gone to my grave
without witnessing those disturbing infrared shots of the two of them dry humping each other. Obviously, Kyle was feeling more
guilty than Keri Russel's hairdresser after giving her that heinous haircut, because he suddenly got up and ran out of the room...
...but not before the camera could zoom in on his boxers, revealing that he had a boner the size of OJ Simpson's legal team. Yep,
good ol' Kyle was more excited than a hillbilly winning his first hogtie race.
After the break, Chris ran to the phone to call Kurt, and gave him what was undoubtedly the WORST "this is why I'm dumping you"
speech in the history of humankind. "I'm not sure I can commit to any future plans as far as spending more time with you. I need
to focus on recovery." Well, you go, Chris! Way to focus on your recovery. Now, run along to your job and pour me a nice
drink. Make it a double.
Cut to Kyle out with Cara, eating a Cinnabun the size of Celine Dion's attitude. Yes. It was large. He could barely cut the
damn thing. MTV then zoomed in on Kyle trying to cut the mangled Cinnabun with a plastic knife. I couldn't help but
wonder... was this the best footage MTV captured that week? Rivoting stuff, really. Cara said, "Kyle has so
much control that it makes me want to throw up." Yeah, Kyle has so much something that makes me want to throw
up, but I'm not sure that it's control. She then said, "If I were either of them, I would have already landed the
deal." That's right, honey, and you'd still have the testosterone on your hands to prove it.
Kyle was going on and on about how he was "sexually attracted" to Keri, but that he also loved Nicole. He then said, "Yeah,
last night, the plug was almost in the socket." What are you talking about,
last night's experience with a faulty TV wire, or almost having sex with Keri? His overuse of 2nd grade sexual innuendos is making
my head hurt.
The show ended with the big Keri/Kyle showdown. It went a little something like this:
Kyle: "Tell me what you want."
Keri: "You know what I want. It's obvious."
Kyle: "No. I mean besides my strapping, virile manhood. What else do you want."
Keri: "I want friendship and that's it."
Kyle: "What's with the tude?"
Keri: "You make me feel second best."
Kyle: "Do you like my new Princeton shirt? God gave it to me after I prayed for it."
Keri: "It's lame that I've put myself in this position and I'm not going to anymore. Goodnight."
Kyle: "But wait! It has a number on the back and everything. And it's orange! Come back!"
And that, my friends, brought another week of Real World Chicago drama to an end. Stay tuned next week... where
Cara and Kyle go walking down the street arm and arm. And now onto the all-new Whiny City
awards!
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THE WHINY CITY AWARDS |
This week's Whiny City award for the most annoying character:
Kyle. Second week in a row. Same reasons as before. Grow some balls. Stop crying every 4 seconds. Stop whining about Keri. It's revolting. And for the love of all that is good and holy, LEARN HOW TO EAT A DAMNED CINNABUN.
This week's Whiny City award for the most vomit-worthy comment(s):
Cara: "I wanna be on top!" Yes. We know. ZIP IT.
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