BB: “The Bayleigh Vote”


Why would Hay cry with Bay, have a house meeting to clear Bay’s name – and then still vote her out?!?

It was crocodile tears on the part of Hay and Fessy. As I said earlier, the only reason they didn’t have the votes, was because Tyler did this Hail Mary pass, with his Cloud app, disillusioning Sam, and making her believe any attempt to save Bay would be useless.

I am sure that if Sam had gone to Bay and said, ‘I’m voting for you to stay,’ Bay would have told Hay and Hay would have gotten Scottie and Fessy to be on-board.

What Foutte doesn’t understand is that you don’t just end up on the right or the wrong side of the vote – you create your own destiny. You create your own majority, your own numbers! This is what Level 6 has been doing from Day One and that’s why they’re cleaning the floor with these Foutte imbeciles.

The only one who genuinely cried for Bay was Sam. Tyler can steamroll all the other n00b NPCs in the house. But if Tyler ever touches Sam – the same way if Bay, had backdoored Scottie – I will never forgive him. Never.

I don’t mind a good villain, but some things just fly over the moral event horizon.

Now Bay is gone for good. I want Sam to stop crying and to fight. Kaycee is a peer and that would be a fair fight. Kaycee is starting tiffs with Rockstar because she’s angry that RS is taking Sam away from her. But your fight isn’t with an elder and a mother of three, Kaycee. If you have any honor, go to the source. You two fight it out and stop moaning and griping behind each other’s backs. Fight or kiss and make up. Geez.

It looks like RS is going to be gone; Sam is going to have to be able to stand on her own two feet and win this thing for herself. The training wheels are coming off. Mom is nowhere in sight!

As for Faysal, crushing him in this critique, just doesn’t feel like a fair fight. He is just – ugh – he has no game-play to speak of. Swaggy said Fessy was his boy, and that once Swaggy was gone, Fessy would “cook” them all. Fessy barely voted for Swaggy to stay and he definitely didn’t vote for Bay to stay. Fessy’s said it himself: the only thing he wants out of this game is Hay(!).

This is ridiculous. You couldn’t have a more useless sack of potatoes. No wonder JC calls Fessy ‘stupid.’ I can’t believe he has survived this far. Hay doesn’t like him; she just likes the male attention she gets from him. I still maintain Brett is better for her. Brett and Hay bring out the best in each other. They have chemistry. They are the best male and female flirts in the house.

Hay and Fessy just seem like a tragic love story (even though Grodner is desperate for a showmance, now that both Swaggy and Bay are gone). Hay recently opened up to Fessy, about being adopted and such, and they got to second base. But it was still Cringe, because all Hay does with Fessy, is pout. He brings out her worst self.

Fessy just seems too desperate with Hay. He knows he has a hot girl and he can’t bear to lose her! If Fessy and Hay were never in the house together, they would have never connected, in the real world.

As for bringing out the worst in Hay, wine in the bathtub, with Tyler, was the lowest common denominator. I said I wouldn’t judge females (or males) that way, but isn’t she proving Sam right, by hoping to get to Tyler, through lust alone?

In the beginning of her HOH week, one convo with Angela, was enough to sway her to nominate Sam. Good thing RS was there, to talk some strategic sense into Hay! Now, Tyler is supposedly not even her target, and she wants Kaycee out. This is the heights of stupidity! This is why half of Twitter wants Foutte gone, so that those who are left can finally start playing the game.

Hay joins the valley of discarded toys, who have been broken by their HOH week – especially if RS goes home this week. Except for Tyler (the first HOH has a bit of a pass, since no one knows anyone yet) and brave-hearted Scottie, the HOH room has brought out the worst in Kaitlyn, Sam, Bay, Angela and now, Hay. Everyone just takes a power trip!

Big Brother is a slower game than Survivor, and that’s just fine, because the conditions of BB are meant to mirror the daily office politics, of real life. A sped-up version of The Sims let’s say. On Survivor, being in the bush, fending for yourself, brings out a person’s true character in a heartbeat.

In the cushy BB house, especially since being a Have-Not is not such a big deal anymore, people’s true selves can simmer under the surface for weeks and weeks. The villain (Tyler) or the floater (Fessy) can sit around for a month, before anyone gets a clue.

If Tyler was on Survivor, like Chris, he would be gone before he could say ‘Surf’s Up, Dude.’ But on BB he gets to sit pretty, until the 11th hour, especially since his HOH win was at the very beginning of the game.

In BB, the only thing that is like the wilderness, that can bring out people’s true face, is the HOH room. Why do you think JC and Kaycee have been avoiding being HOH, thus far? Being HOH forces you to show your cards. It holds a mirror up to your character: will you stir up the pot (Scottie) or just go with the flow, only to be voted out next week (Bay)?

Hay may have a higher IQ, than most people in the house, but her social game, as even she seems to know, rests almost entirely on her looks. Hay knows Tyler is coming after her. Hay knows Tyler knows that she came after him. If it wasn’t for this breather of a HOH week, she would be gone. Next week, Hay, of course, cannot play in the HOH comp. Let’s see if, like Bay, Hay is gone, one week later.

As for Tyler, it’s only too bad, that he was rightly persecuting Bay for having a power, but when he spills the beans on his power, he isn’t being held accountable. Hold another house meeting Sam, except make this one count. Expose the snake!


Them Through the Ages


They went up to the rooftop of a nearby motel, the one where Cai was staying. A gentle whirring rose from the boiler turbines, down below, deep in the bowels of the building. Sleeping pigeons roosted under the water tower. The rain had stopped, and clouds floated in the night sky, reflected by giant puddles.

Cai had retrieved his long, black overcoat, which swirled around his thin legs. He pulled out a Camel cigarette and offered his lighter to Dan, who took it, and lit up.

The two men watched the retreating cumulus formation, illuminated by the veins of traffic below. Steam floated from thousands of dark rooftops, with myriad HVAC units, vents and tunnels.

Dan glanced at the Dracula-like creature in front of him. “You’re from out-of-town?” he muttered.

The lothario gave him a crafty, cryptic look, “You might say that.”

There was a density to him – that aristocratic nose, that lofty, sweeping brow – that spoke to him, that offered a weight, a depth. He felt himself drawn forward into this man’s orbit, like falling into the path of a black hole – or a runaway bullet train.

“Where did you say you were from?” Dan tried again.

“I didn’t,” the stranger guffawed.

“Excuse me?” Dan also laughed, but he was 100% serious. He really wanted to know.

“Originally, I am from London, but I came here from Seattle,” Cai began.

“Misty Seattle. Hmm,” Dan said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

“Yes; how well versed are you in the mystical arts?” the stranger gave him a significant look.

“The mystical what?” Dan asked, dumbfounded.

“The mystical. Arts.” Cai said, punctuating each word with an action: he dropped the butt and stepped on it – grinding it out – also taking one step closer to Dan, in the process. His massive, intellectual weight was all directed at Dan. The tall man loomed in front of him, looking down on him, his eyes narrowed in that oily, feline slant again.

Dan stepped back, confused, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cai stood still, as if his metaphysical weight were settling, like a dense ball of dark matter. He sighed, as if confessing something to himself for the first time, “I am the Lightning Avatar. I come from Atev. You’re aware of parallel dimensions, right?”

Dan, a high-energy particle physicist, nodded. He was still baffled, but something Cai said, rang true to him: a bell knell of recognition tolled inside his psyche, on the shores of his consciousness. He didn’t know why. It was a note, the clarion call, of destiny.

He decided he would address that later, and pushed on gamely, “So, what’s your job?”

“Anesthesiologist,” Cai smirked, with obvious relief. He seemed to be standing over Dan less, and the angles of his body opened into a more welcoming posture. Cai’s mien took on the very definition of ease. Dan allowed himself to come closer, into the circle of Cai’s cologne – into the circle of energy that vibrated and emanated from him.

“You would be,” Dan murmured, surprised at how close he was to this man. The nail edge of a crescent moon emerged from a cloud bank and towered over them both.

modern life


Forgot About Dre (Instrumental) – Dr. Dre feat. Eminem

Conscious Thoughts:


D A N C I N’

You Don’t Know Me – Don Henley