Naked and Afraid… Oh, hell no

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Sunday was the premier of the most recent season of Naked and Afraid, so what better way to spend a Sunday evening than marathoning the previous season with Hubs B and BFF.

For those of you that have never seen the show, let me break it down for you. Basically it’s where these two fuckwits, I mean survivalists are dropped into jungles and shit and are forced to survive…naked with a partner they’ve never met. They get to bring one survival, like knife or a fire starter, something to help them out and they have to last 21 days. They also give each contestant (I call them this, although there is no prize at the end. Just the gratification of completing this journey…fucking lame.) a PSR rating. A Primitive Survival Rating, which is how likely they are to complete the challenge based on their survivalist experiences. It’s a scale from 0-10 and most of the men are rated somewhere in the 7.5-8.5 area and the women somewhere between 6-7.5. (sexist…) It’s a complete shit show, yet totally addictive.

So, we settle in to watch the premier after watching three consecutive episodes. It wasn’t so much that the episodes were hilarious, it was more about the conversations we had while watching.

I find the people who go on the show fascinating because I have no desire to ever do anything outside, besides sit on the beach. I’m afraid of the dark, I fucking hate bugs, especially moths, I have an aversion to things that are wet, so that rules out anything that deals with rain, I LOVE food and not grubs and weird ass shit caught in a jungle setting (one woman ate the brain from a rotten bird head she found on the beach and then was shocked when she got the shits), I won’t go camping, I despise sleeping on anything but a bed, I don’t like hiking or anything that requires me to climb, seeing as I’m afraid of heights and (I say “and” like the list ends here. Trust me it could go on for days) I’m always cold. So to say the people on this show are out of my realm of reality, is a fucking understatement.

As soon as the episode started BFF, Hubs B and I created our own rating system. FBR and DBR…Fucking Bitch Rating and Douche Bag Rating since the people in the premier were just awful. The female contestant complained non-stop. Um, you fucking chose to go on this fucking show, so stop your bitching. And the male contestant was a smarmy asshole, who found himself far too attractive, like he was a catch or something. At one point claiming to his partner after she was complaining about his douchebagness, “Girls would kill to be trapped with me for 21 days.” Really? Only if they like douche bags with beer guts and receding hairlines.

When the episode started I asked Hubs B what he thought his PSR be. Now I think of Hubs B as pretty badass and resourceful, but his response was, “Um…probably a 3.” Looks like I wouldn’t want to be paired up with him. So then BFF asks me, how likely I would be to survive on the show.

Hilarity ensure from Hubs B and then he says, “I give the two of you together 21 minutes,” which prompts BFF to ask if she could bring pizza as her survival item. I then, interject that we could totes survive longer than 21 minutes, which again has Hubs B laughing hysterically.

Hubs B: You won’t even stay in a hotel that has the doors on the outside.

Me: Um, that’s not a hotel, that’s a fucking motel.

Hubs B: Ok, so please fucking tell me, what type of doomsday scenario would warrant you staying in a motel with with the doors on the outside?

BFF: So if it was either sleep in my car or stay at motel with the doors on the outside, I’d choose the motel.

Me: *Long pause* Um…I don’t know. I really don’t like motels at all. Only hotels.

Hubs B: I’m amending my original estimate. 21 seconds…max.

BFF: I don’t like to hunt for food.

Me: Me either. I don’t even know where pizza lives.

BFF: I love food.

Me: Me too.

BFF: I’d go on the show just to lose 30 pounds.

Me: Great diet.

Hubs B: *Shaking his head* You two are fucking hopeless.

In the end, we established that the people who go on the show are fucking nuts, Hubs B isn’t nearly as badass as I thought and BFF and I would likely survive a few second, unless there was pizza involved. Not too bad.

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