Courtesy of CBS

After dozing through the first seven episodes of Survivor Out Back, it came as no surprise when I learned that Merrie Olde London Towne, the frightened and uptight megalopolis from which producer Mark Burnett hails, boasts more surveillance cameras per bloke than any other city in the world. In foul Blighty, it seems, blokes--and birds, as well--just like to watch. And what they see--other pale and pasty blokes and birds flagging down cabs in Piccadilly, or waiting in the rain for a double-decker in Greenwich is just slightly more exciting than snorefests like Survivor II.

Well, yes, it was vaguely fun to watch Little Izzy the Slipper-Maker shiver for ten hours and seventeen minutes on her perch in the Herbert River during the Immunity Challenge that cost Jeff "The Barfer" Varner his television life after someone--probably Alicia--ratted him out to the other side by revealing the crucial vote he garnered on Episode Two. But the only reason I could bear to watch was because I'd made myself a small toddy of Stolichnaya mixed with the residue of a boiled cane toad. Now, in Far North Queensland where Survivor Out Back was filmed, it's not legal to ingest a controlled substance such as boiled cane toad. But we Yanks are a more laissez-faire lot. Anyway, if you drink the residue of a boiled cane toad the stuff will profoundly mess up your perception of time. And Holy Moley! Ten hours and seventeen minutes of Shivering Izzy went by as if I was watching one of those Reebok ads (which, by the way, are far more entertaining than the CBS yawner they pay for).

This predictable game show so far bears no more sexual tension between the contestants than Wheel of Fortune. And except for that happy moment when Mike-o the Psych-o pitched headfirst into the campfire last week, thus avenging his own stupid self for his slaying of Piglet in Episode Four, there has been very little to cheer about.

Before Kimmi Kappenberg got the boot on Episode Five it had been slightly amusing to guess which one of the players was suffering from constipation. But in order to inject some buzz into this funereal shitcom I was forced to gather together what few friends I haven't alienated to play the game of Survivor ourselves. Well, okay, I admit we didn't fly off to some tropical island like Pulau Tiga, or hike out into the Bob Marshall Wilderness. What we did was we bought Survivor, the Mattel card game, and got loaded on a pitcher of Stoly-and-toad. Friends, it was a hoot! First, playing Rodger Hee Haw, I drew a command card that said I went fishing all day but nothing was biting so I lost my turn! Then my friend Beff (playing Alicia) drew a card that said because she'd been skinny-dipping all day she'd have to show her hand to everyone! And then my other friend Jane (playing Amber) got to draw two survivor item cards because she'd gathered enough materials for a "sturdy shelter." But in the end my additional other friend Marcia, playing Little Izzy, triumphed at Tribal Council when she promised that if we voted for her she wouldn't heave chunks on the table!

So based on our magical night's tarot reading of the CBS game, my pick to click, the chick who can do it all, the queen of Team Barramundi or Benetton or whatever these slimers are calling themselves now, will indeed be the Boston clog nut, Izzy Filarski.