The second time was not a charm for a former cast member in a Beavis-friendly ‘Survivor’ where the entire nation of Guatemala burnt to the ground. They went out in a blaze of glory by burning pictures of fallen cast mates (reasonable), the entire camp (slightly less reasonable) and a perfectly good chicken (completely bizarre but nonetheless absorbing).

The Survivor finale is always a big night. Even when the show stunk, the finale was always engrossing. This season was Survivor of old. The subplots were intriguing. The surprises were not contrived and the double crosses were Boston Rob-esque. The bonehead moves continued into the final hours and even managed to grow more inexcusable with so much at stake.

Danni, the sports radio host from Kansas City, whose pre-fight weight was 68 pounds despite standing over 6 feet tall, took home the prize against returning competitor and stud survivor Stephenie. In the end, she was able to capitalize on some giant sized blunders by otherwise good players.

The gaffes started last week with the grand daddy of them all. Cindy was granted the opportunity to give four cars to the people who would decide whether she could win a million dollars for herself. It was the equivalent of winning immunity as it almost certainly would have guaranteed her one more amnesty. She took the car souring Rafe, the least vindictive player ever, who subsequently led a movement against her, which let Danni slide through.

The game play did not improve this week as Rafe took the first challenge and decided to uphold his promise to Danni that she would make the final three. Again, a moral move but a critical error as Lydia has been worthless in every challenge thus far. In one challenge where they had to tromp through a foot of mud proved difficult for Lydia as the mud was over her head. If someone can potentially drown in a baby pool, you want them in your final two. (Originally said by Nietzsche, I believe.)

The final immunity challenge involved standing on an unstable platform while trying to maintain balance. They were given two ropes for support but were asked to let one go after an hour. At that point, they flailed around like pit fallers and found them selves in an awkward position leaning against a pole. Rafe had a solid hold but in a moment where he lacked focus, he touched the pole and Probst caught it. Danni’s long legs served her well as the position came comfortably to her. While a vein was bursting in Stephenie’s quad muscle, Danni appeared to be filing her nails. While Steph experienced a half dozen leg cramps, Danni picked a half dozen split ends. When Steph finally collapsed dead to the ground, Danni had to be woken up from her nap.

Rafe decided it was time for his next misstep. He’s only made two million dollar mistakes in the last twenty four hours so he’s due. He decides to relinquish Danni of her promise to take him to the final two. That Rafe is always one step ahead, another quality snap decision.

The Q & A was uneventful all the way through to Judd. Stephenie did a decent job at times and was able to mold the questions to her liking. She got control of Jamie but dropped the ball when Cindy asked who she would take off the jury. Danni was equally unimpressive and she sold Stephenie’s strengths better than her own.

I think I safely can speak for the nation when I secretly prayed Stephenie would make the final two so Judd could sick a Crocodile on her. All things considered, I thought Judd was surprisingly tame when he was blindsided and was holding back for an explosion come jury time. All-in-all, he held it together reasonably well, besides firing, “You lied to my wife. You crossed the line.”

Jeff tallied the votes and then set them on fire too. He jumped in a helicopter for his voyage straight to Hollywood Theatres for the live unveiling. I think he has it in his contract that he has to look as cheesy as possible at all times. Alright, I’ll say it; Danni looked good, real good. Mark it down; she won’t be working for KC radio for much longer. Monday Night Football or the like will be in touch. When the votes were about to be read, I literally thought 6-1 Steph. And that folks is why I have my own reality column.

The only question I was anticipating from the reunion was the failed pseudonym attempt of Gary Hogeboom. Now, I’m from Philly and I, like most, am a passionate Eagles fan. So I’ve been bred to hold a hatred for the Cowboys that has left an indelible mark on my soul. Quite honestly, the team bus could crash and I wouldn’t shed one tear. Now that I think of it, the team planes for the Cowboys, Giants and Redskins could collide in three-way disaster leaving the surviving players stuck on iceberg in the middle of the North Atlantic where they’d be forced to kill the punters and backup QBs just to eat good meat, I still don’t think I would honor the moment of silence we would constantly be asked to grant them. If they ever made a movie about it, my family and I would break it out every year on Easter Sunday.

Alright, alright, so I’m not that bad. But I did have this burning inclination to despise Gary before he spoke his first word. So I was somewhat conflicted about Gary straight away. At the core, he’s a nice guy. Even in my unrelenting bias I can see that. But, heck, he’s a Cowboy. Nobody ever said Cowboys were smart, and his lies were not well choreographed. On top of that, he was forever doing a Carl Spackler impression from Caddyshack and a darn good one at that. Thanksgiving was glorious for me because I got to watch the Cowboys get slaughtered and then watch a cowboy get sent home.

I’m disappointed that more emphasis wasn’t placed on this gem: “No, I went to Western Michigan, but I didn’t play quarterback.” Now, nobody has ever accused Cowboys of being geniuses but come on. The answer was simple, “Michigan? Isn’t that where they sell gloves or something? No, not me, I’m not from Canada. I went to the Landscaping Institute outside of Hoboken NJ. And I got my masters in air raiding technology. My thesis was on “Winterizer and its effect on dry top soil.”

Of all the random universities, she managed to know the exact one he attended. And Probst gave it absolutely no attention. That was almost as bad as him giving Richard Hatch a free pass after he grinded naked against a married woman.

Despite all that, it was entertaining as usual. Thanks again Survivor for another great season. You’d think after twelve outings it would get old, but somehow with the same rules, the same dumb mistakes and the same cheesy host, there are still 24 million suckers out there and I’m proud to be one of them.