1. If you are on the jury, you need to vote this week. Just to be absolutely gin clear, this includes everyone who has been voted off the island. The last two entries will be posted Wednesday night, March 17. Please get your vote to me by email no later than 9 p.m. U.S. Eastern time Thursday night.
2. Jurors, please include comments with your votes to whatever degree you find yourself so moved.
3. If for some reason I do not receive a vote from one or more jurors by the deadline, we're just going to go with as many votes as we get. I'm not going to run around trying to find jurors. Please remember that in some cases email is not instantaneous. Please vote as early as you can.
4. Because I'm an idiot and started the game with an even number of people, it is possible that there could be a tie in the voting next week. As we learned at Tribal Council last night, our remaining valiant competitors have the same number of prior votes, so Article 17 will be no help breaking the tie. I have given this a great deal of thought, and despite my strong desire to just flip a coin, here's what's going to happen. In the event of a tie, we will have a lightning round that will operate as follows: there will be a short assignment which the players will have two days to complete. A disinterested party (probably between the ages of 4 and 6) will select one of the jury members' names from a hat or other receptacle. The selected jury member will not vote in the tie breaker, which will take place Sunday night. The lightning round entries will be posted anonymously, meaning the jury will not know who wrote which entry. Why? Because.
5. Next season, there will be an odd number of players. Duh.
6. You may recall that pursuant to Article Eight of the Official Rules of Reverse Survivor, the last player left on the Island (of Doom) will be assigned a "harmless yet embarrassing April Fool's Day task" to perform and document for the amusement of all. If you have any bright ideas about what that should be, leave a comment. Obviously, your suggestions should not entail risk to person(s) or property, illegal activity, significant outlay of monies (let's say not more than $10...I'm footing the bill), or anything else truly risky or meanspirited. Also, assume that no one is going to invest more than about an hour in this. I reserve the right to accept, reject, modify, or ignore your suggestions.
7. It's also time to start thinking about next season. If you or someone you know wants to play, make sure you send me an email.

Dear Sir,

I didn't want to be in a position to write this letter, because I really love Sony products. I have had a Walkman since I was 13 years old. I have a Sony television and many other appliances, which have treated me very well over the years.

My problem is with the Sony music division. Three weeks ago, I got beat up very, very badly, and I can't help but blame you for the situation. I am seeking money to pay for my medical bills as well as my pain and suffering. Here is how it happened.

I got beat up by 3 very large men in jail. Frankly, I am lucky that I wasn't raped, but I wasn't in long enough to take a shower, thankfully.

I was in jail because I bitched out a police officer after he wrote me a ticket for jaywalking across a fairly busy street. I guess there are a few words that you aren't allowed to say to a police officer. For a list of those words, feel free to email me and I will go into detail.

I was jaywalking because I was trying to cross the street to get to this one hooker that I wanted to proposition for sex. I guess I should feel lucky with the jaywalking ticket because if I had made it across the street it would have been much worse.

Anyway, I was trying to proposition a hooker because I got into a fight with my girlfriend and I figured paying for sex was about the best way for me to get her back.

Finally, I was fighting with my girlfriend because I took her CD out of the CD player and threw it out the window. I just couldn't sit there and listen to another single solitary second of that horrible Celine Dion record, which she loves so much.

So, I blame you. You published and released this record by the most menacing French-Canadian wench on the face of this (or any other) world.

You can mail a check for $137,956 to Harcourt Fenton Mudd as you know full well that there isn't a jury of twelve people in the world that will see it your way.

Sincerely,
HFM

P.S. My dog hates you too, because those high-pitched squeals are offensive to his hearing.

Mr. Al Bru
President & CEO
Frito-Lay, Inc.
7701 Legacy Drive
Plano, TX 75024

Dear Mr. Bru:

I am writing to complain about one of your products, WOW® potato chips. This snack ruined my life.

It all began at a business meeting six months ago. Lunch was served at the company-wide planning session and an assortment of chips was provided, including a single bag of the WOW® chips. I had never seen these before and, intrigued by the name, I quickly grabbed them from the tray. Absorbed as I was with the content of the meeting, I never got a chance to read the bag. My failure to do so meant I missed the small print warning: "May cause anal leakage." Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected to see those words on a snack food label.

In any case, a few hours into the meeting, I had to give my presentation. As it was summer and we were told to dress casually, I wore khaki pants. The whispering and snickering started shortly after I began to speak. I had no idea what was going on. It worsened until the room was practically doubled over with laughter. It wasn't until the meeting was over and I saw the brown stains on my pants that I had any idea what had happened.

After that day, I was ostracized at work. My coworkers declined to eat lunch with me. They started calling me Poopy Pete and refused to sit in a chair after I had been in it. I was no longer given good assignments and I went from having a corner office to a cubicle in the basement. My company car was taken away because the principals feared a decline in the resale value of any vehicle I drove.

My wife never quite recovered from the incident. Humiliated and shunned by neighbors, she ultimately left me. In the divorce proceedings the judge awarded full custody of the children to my ex-wife because I had a low paying job, no company car and a reputation for lack of bowel control.

Depressed, I tried to commit suicide by eating mass quantities of your WOW® potato chips, but failed. In what is possibly the cruelest twist, I now have to wear a colostomy bag as a result of the injuries I sustained from my attempt.

I could lie and tell you I am going to sue you but I can't even find an attorney who is willing to take on my case. It seems they will represent the vilest of criminals but not a decent man who made a poor snack choice. So I write only to say, "Shame on you, Frito-Lay." Know that I will never again eat another potato chip.

Sincerely,
Peter Sullivan

Dear God,

I wish to file a written complaint regarding the newest member of my family, baby Electra, which was recently delivered. I would like to return this merchandise for a full refund, emotional and weightwise.

The ordering process was actually fun, as advertised. I had been practicing ordering babies for quite some time. David and I were thrilled when my order was confirmed, and I was told that the normal wait-time for my order to be filled was 9 months. Obviously you exaggerated, as I had to wait almost 10 months for my order to be filled. I suggest in the future you make some effort to manage the expectations of your customers.

I had heard many stories of weight gain and moodiness during the order-filling process, but I cannot believe how I was treated by your staff. I was unable to eat anything for the first 3 months. The smell of beer still makes me sick, and don't even mention sushi to me. I think that you need to update your website about this issue. I also turned into an emotional basket case. Up until then, I had only cried during one or two Jerry Springer episodes. During the first 3 months, it was a regular occurrence. My least favorite feature the first 3 months, however, was the breast pain. Since my breasts are my livelihood, I should have been informed about this feature when considering my purchase.

All this pales in comparison to the insatiable ravenous hunger of months 4 through 6. I ate everything in sight, including food off of other people's plates, and foods I ordinarily wouldn't consider. I mean, sardines? Lime jello? Hello! When I sent my husband to the store for a pint of Ben and Jerry's, he came into the room with a pint and two spoons. I used both spoons. I understand a little weight gain is to be expected, but 60 lbs? I didn't sign up for this. And then you took most of my brain away from me. I know I can be absent-minded sometimes, but I had problems remembering my own name. I once ran (waddled, actually) upstairs to get a fire-extinguisher, and then stopped to take a bath. Thank God my husband was home or I would have suffocated in the tub.

The last 3 months made the first 7 look like a picnic. I couldn't get up from chairs. My breasts applied for and received their own zip code. Sleeping became a series of catnaps while being bludgeoned from within. I felt like I had a dumptruck parked on my bladder. My ankles became the size of an average woman's thighs. I ate Tums like Tic Tacs. And then you played the cruelest joke on me of all. I was horny all the time, and my husband just wanted me to go away.

When delivery of the product was scheduled, we had to drive to a different location for delivery. At first I didn't understand why we couldn't arrange for home delivery. Now I get it. Squeezing a bowling ball through an opening built for a golf ball (well, in Dave's case, a softball) was more difficult than advertised. And that was after 26 hours of "contractions". Your website should perhaps come up with a different descriptive term for "contractions", like "small-scale nuclear implosions". And after the delivery, well, suffice it to say the experience has been a pain in the ass.

When the product arrived, I was thoroughly dissapointed. The child was not even clean. We had to clean her off and this was a brand-new baby!!! Only she didn't look like a baby, she looked like a cross between a baby lizard and an ewok.

So here I sit, sore, fat, and exhaused, with breasts that are ready to explode, holding a clean lizard-ewok baby. I want a full refund, NOW!

Oh wait, she just smiled at me. Never mind.

Sincerely, Carmen Electra

Stately SWM, 80, seeks SWF, 25 - 28, for marriage. I enjoy talking (my record is 26 straight hours!) and keeping our schools racially pure (I am more flexible when it comes to my bloodline). You must be open to blended family and blind to past indiscretions. Virginity a must. Beauty pageant title(s) a plus. Write to Strom at Box 102.

SWMM (Single White Male Midget) searching for large-bodied female that would make Sir Mix-A-Lot proud. I may be small, but I have a huge heart that is prepared to love a huge lady. I am looking for someone who wants to eventually share my apartment. There is plenty of room because I don't take up much space. It would also be nice if you could cook, but what are the chances that someone who likes to eat as much as you do, doesn't know how to cook?

Please call Pee Wee Dwarfman if this sounds like you. 800-6-Wee-Man

SWF2M, 37

Are you looking for a sensitive guy who enjoys cuddling? Do you long to be with a man who understands your needs and desires? Your mood swings? Your struggle to be thin? Would you love to find a man who would rather spend hours shopping than watching football? Who is not embarrassed to pick up tampons for you from the drug store (and who knows the difference between Tampax and Kotex)? If so, then I'm your man. And I'm all man, thanks to the wonders of modern medicine and my extra thick thigh muscle.

Wizard, 34, seeks fair maiden of good cheer for committed relationship leading quickly to marriage. This SWM enjoys fantasy role-playing games, speed chess, the Marvel universe of heroes, Tolkien, Madrigal singing, Renaissance Faires, Elves, and playing my lute. No experience necessary in any of my interests, but I hope you're willing to learn! (Don't worry if you don't have your own cloak. We can borrow one from my sister.) I'm a druid, but am eager to join you on your evolving spiritual path. Xena: Warrior Princess, Agent Scully, Princess Leia...any look is OK. For our first date, let's experience The Return of the King once again, this time in Digital Dolby Surround Sound! Let me be the Lord of Your Ring!