To hell with these freaking people. I hope Kate, Nick, Miller and Jesse do well, if they were not in on last night's plot and I don't think they were. I hope Vic and Sam have heart attacks and they carry them back to that beach house that they talk about 24 hours a day. And uh, you know, most of the others, with the exception of Holli, I hope they get bit by a green mamba.
You know, there were 24 survivors-- me and 23 others-- I made probably 4, 5 or 6 friends that I will keep for who knows how long. Uh, and you know, the rest-- I have no interest in ever seeing again. And given the general population, you know, that's not half bad. If I keep 2 or 3 or 4 friends, then great. And they know who they are.
The people that voted me off were the dumbasses. And in a blind community, a man with one eye is elected king. I've got 2 eyes, so I wasn't elected. They voted me out.
If Vic and Sam and Scott make the final 3, um, I think the only way out is to commit suicide.
Anyway, good riddance. It's time for my ice cream and a scotch. I'm gonna go get drunk. This is Brian Scully. I had a good time. See you later.
