Ultimate Fighter: Spunk: (n) Refers to Seminal fluid, (v) Also Means to Ejaculate

Dear Gasmii,

This week, it is fully confirmed that our fighters have failed to grasp the fundamental reasons behind the separation of kitchen and bathroom. Seriously, how limited do you have to be to grasp the concept that what goes into a body should not get mixed up with what comes out of a body?

One of these two has never peed on food…

And, the sad thing is that urine is the least of the bodily fluids that we’re treated to this week. So, join me after the jump to find out how TUF is continuing on its determined course toward fetish porn.

As usual, we start this week with a recap of the last episode’s fight between “Small Balls” Vinny and Farmboy Jules. One immediate and pressing issue arises from this segment. An issue that would I personally consider serious enough to call an all out emergency for; that being Hugger John’s hair:

Seriously, call Tabitha!! STAT!!

Back at the house of domestic tranquility, the fighters continue to model those qualities of character that every decent person should aspire to. Apparently, the red team has been making it a practice to steal and consume Tom Lawlor’s fruit tray as a joke. Hah-hah. It seems that Tom Lawlor asks for a daily fruit tray, and every day, when he returns from practice, its gone. Note to Tom: I feel your pain. Dieting is hard work and when somebody’s messing with your food, it’s almost impossible. In my opinion Tom Lawlor is justifiably pissed off and justified in taking extreme measures like sitting down and talking to the other team to draw up a list of house rules, or ordering two fruit trays, or, if all of the above fail, rubbing the fruit with hot chili juice.

Tom apparently draws his inspiration from higher cultural references. I’m thinking he’s got to be a big fan of the Bad Girls Club. Who knew? Tom’s solution is to tinkle on his own fruit tray, because, hey, it’s his fruit tray. If he wants to take a whiz on his own fruit, who can blame him? Not only does Tom donate his urine, but, Vinny, never one to miss out on whiz, joins him, as well as Marilyn and Shane Nelson. It’s a golden shower orgy and the cumulative effect is to leave about two inches of urine in the bottom of the container.

Definitely not Kosher.

The nice thing about this incident is that it finally gives the blue team a chance to display their teamwork. It’s kind of sweet to see them yelling out helpful tips to each other, such as “shake it, shake it”. After all, peeing is such a challenging event it clearly needs group support.

Proof that Marilyn can play nicely with others.

I just want to take a moment to acknowledge George Roop, as one member of the blue team that seems to be something of an anomally. In his blogs, he actually avoided getting on board the Roli bashing bus from a few weeks ago, and he’s managed to stay temperate and away from the worst excesses. While the pissing pack is going at it, George is hanging out in the hot tub watching them, but refusing to join in. His take on it is simple, “That’s just wrong.”

George Roop, possibly not a dickwad.

With the fruit plate carefully resealed and lovingly stored back in the refrigerator, we go to the fight pick of the week. This week is a lightweight fight and “Coach” Frankie calls out Dave Kaplan from the blue team and Phillipe Nover from the red team.

Dave Kaplan, an activist for leprechaun rights

Phillipe Nover, emergency room nurse from hell

Dave has been dying to fight Phillipe because he was first pick and is ostensibly the best fighter in the house. And Phillipe has just been dying to fight. “Coach” Frankie is, of course, super confident about Dave winning, because how could the blue team possibly lose?

At the house of tranquility, the red team is returning from their practice and, apparently, they are seriously jonesing for a fruit fix. The door to the house has barely shut before Ryan Bader scuttles to the fridge to gleefully steal the truly organic, urine soaked, goodies. In no time at all, the red team is chowing down on the delicacies with a lip smacking gusto, and OMG this is the most disgusting thing I’ve seen.

The cameramen must be dead or made of stone, if they weren’t laughing their asses off.

After they’ve finished off the contents of the plate, the blue team’s token leprechaun, Dave Kaplan, is nice enough to break the news to them that they’ve just consumed the combined liquid waste product of four blue team members. What the hell kind of fresh fruit are they used to eating? Did they not notice the two inches of golden “juice” on the bottom of the container, not to mention the pervasive odor, and I would assume taste, of urine?

Bizarrely, Ryan Bader and Kyle Kingsbury take the news pretty calmly, even laughing it off.

Kiss me now, fool.

On the other hand, Fainter Phillipe is refreshingly upset about the urine in his food. Personally, if I found out that I had unknowingly partaken of a mixture of Marilyn’s, Small Ball’s, Tom Lawlor’s, and Shane Nelson’s piss, I would be chugging Drano.

In this group, you have to admire a guy who knows enough to use a toilet to deposit his bodily waste, regardless of the orifice it’s flying from.

On a more romantic note, I would like to acknowledge the couple of the week.

Maybe Hugger John can housebreak him.

We leave the red team, with Fainter Phillipe still puking and spitting, to go to the blue team’s training session. Dave Kaplan is now sporting a dyed blond Mohawk that closely resembles a roadkill carcass lovingly glued to his scalp. He shares that he was a Divison I wrestler and lived in Holland to train in thai boxing.

Frankie seems to have formed an unusual attachment for Dave, possibly rebounding off last weeks tryst with Small Balls. He shares that at this point in the show you start getting attached to different guys, seemingly a new one each week depending on who’s fighting.

Personally, I’m having a little trouble understanding the attraction.

But, enough of the blue team’s relationships. Back at the house, Fainter Phillipe has realized that his sushi has gone missing and he’s ticked off. First the urine and now missing fish, what’s a guy gonna do? Hugger John explains that nine out of ten times someone steals Phillipe’s sushi. What’s more, this disgraceful behavior has been going on long before the fruit salad fiasco. Well, the red team has had enough. Enough, I tell you. They’re not going to let those blue team bastards get away with stealing fish and tricking them into imbibing pee. But, what to do? How can they possibly top the urine debacle? Being men of sound principles they come up with an ingenious plan. Instead of urinating on the sushi, they are going to “spunk” on it. Please, God, don’t let spunk mean masturbate. Oh, silly me, in times of strife, masturbation is clearly the way to go. Fainter Phillipe enthusiastically says, that “this is going to be fun.” And, I’m thinking, so are they going to film a circle jerk? Is nothing sacred on this show? Or, has living in the house curtailed their normal activities of self-gratification so much that they’re this desperate for a chance to flog their respective logs?

Regretfully, the editors take us away from the developing masturbatory storyline to bring us to another blue team training session.

Well, sort of a training session.

The majority of the blue team sits on the floor chatting, while Marilyn rolls with David Kaplan on the mat. Marilyn tells us that he mostly trains by himself, because the other blue team members aren’t really into training hard. David then submits Marilyn. And, being a dedicated professional, Marilyn freaks out, storms off, throws a box and punches the soda machine.

What does “Coach” Frankie do when Marilyn acts like a teenage girl dealing with her first bout of PMS? Absolutely nothing. He tells us in his usual self-congratulatory tone that when he sees Marilyn acting that way he just keeps his distance. I think that’s a great strategy for somebody who’s just another fighter on the team and has no authority whatsoever. I can even understanding giving Marilyn a moment to gather himself, before tossing him the fuck out of the gym for unacceptable behavior.

Found next to Wuss in Websters.

While “Coach” Frankie does absolutely nothing, the red team is in the throws of delight over the special sauce that Kyle promises to produce. Upon careful consideration, Fainter Phillipe chooses the California roll as the item to be spiked with spunk. Yes, I enjoyed writing that. The reasoning for his choice is simple, the California role “at least has white stuff.”

It turns out that Kyle is the only boychick willing to actually donate his little guys to the project and like a good little soldier he marches into the bathroom to do the deed. Thankfully, he shuts the door. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-masturbation. I just don’t really want to see Kyle Kingsbury yanking on his wanger. There’s a few tense moments as the cameramen focus their lenses on the door, and Jules yells into Kyle and Kyle yells back at him to shut up. Then, in a surprisingly short amount of time, Kyle comes back out with a platter of freshly squirted sperm, announcing proudly, “I’ve prepared a very special sauce for the California roll.” Ladies if you’re looking for a guy who can reliably produce under pressure, here’s the guy for you.

Black belt spunker

The blue team comes home from training, and the red team waits expectantly. Sure enough, like a leprechaun in search of gold, Dave Kaplan finds the sushi and unwittingly fills his stomach with Kyle’s swimmers.

The red team approaches Dave after his milky repast and joins him at the table gently introducing the subject of the newly missing sushi. Dave, somewhat cockily (sorry, no pun intended) confirms that he did in fact eat it and it was gooood!! Kyle offhandly comments, “Let’s see, if I ate somebody’s semen…” And, suddenly, Dave’s not so cocky (again, no pun intended) anymore. In fact, Dave begins to look like a very unhappy little leprechaun who maybe just discovered that all that glitters is not gold.

But, now, Dave has a quandary. There’s not much worse to threaten with. I mean urine’s been done to death in this house, sperm was used on him, so, what’s left? Fecal matter? You betcha.

“You will have fecal matter on your persons in the next 3 days.”

In case the urine, sperm, or potential fecal matter isn’t enough to get your panties in a bunch, we are now introduced to balut. For those of you that recognize and cherish this delicacy, I apologize. I know there’s a lot of Jewish food that can cause my goy husband to heave. That being said, OMG, this is one disgusting delicacy. Fainter Phillipe, who is responsible for introducing the food into the house, explains that a balut is a duck egg that is just about to hatch. Basically what he’s talking about is an almost fully developed duck fetus.

The last of the three food groups: urine, sperm, and, now, duck fetus.

Thankfully, it’s time for the weigh-in. “Coach” Frankie tells us that he thinks Kaplan is capable of winning the whole kit and caboodle. Sadly, we’ve seen very little of Mini Big Nog this episode. But, not surprisingly, he thinks that Phillipe is going to win the fight. Somewhat, surprisingly, Big Daddy weighs in with his opinion. Big Daddy thinks Philippe is going to win. I’m thinking that my money should go with Big Daddy’s.

Just in case you’ve been wondering how Marilyn is managing after his gym tantrum, the editors decide to bring us back to the house where he’s hanging out with the red team. You know, the team that Marilyn was drunkenly haranguing during the first several episodes? Apparently, they’re a-okay with Marilyn, now. Instead, it’s his own team that he doesn’t like. In particular, Marilyn has decided that he doesn’t like Dave Kaplan. The same Dave Kaplan that made it possible for Marilyn to cut those last few pounds before his weigh-in. But, that was then, and this is now. Dave Kaplan seems to have committed the sin of getting more attention from “Coach” Frankie than Marilyn, not to mention being generally smarter than Marilyn. Of course, the last complaint could be made about the duck fetuses as well. Regardless of the actual reasons, Marilyn feels justified in giving Phillipe a rundown on Dave Kaplan’s weak spots as a fighter. And, because Marilyn is so ready to stand up for his beliefs and convictions he makes a point of asking the red team not to “tell the other guys what I said.”

My childhood dream was to grow up to be a drunken, stupid, illiterate, violent, spoiled, immature, untrustworthy, lazy assed wannabe fighter. I think I’ve accomplished that.

Good Lord, isn’t there anybody in this house that could be role model for youngsters?

Note to Hugger John: I’m depending on you to finish this show having done nothing worse than sporting a really bad dye job.

Happily, the night before the fight, Mini Big Nog comes over to hang out. He builds Phillipe’s confidence, lets himself be hugged by Hugger John, and is generally adorable.

Everybody should have a Mini Big Nog for a coach.

The Fight

Ring Girl:

A head shot seemed kind of irrelevant.

Stats:

We have about five minutes left when Phillipe and Dave touch gloves. And, we’re off. Phillipe lands the first punch. Dave lands a kick. And, then, it looks like it might be a murder. Phillipe punches Dave until he goes down. And, then, Phillipe’s on top punching.

And punching.

And punching.

And tap out.

Phillipe’s easy win prompts a wide variety of reactions. “Coach” Frankie looks stunned.

This must be a dream.

Big Daddy falls in love.

He’s going to make me a lot of money.

Marilyn tells us that he doesn’t mean to be an asshole, but he’s glad to see Kaplan lose because he needed a reality check.

Because I’m what’s called an expert on reality.

Fainter Phillipe is justifiably thrilled with his victory, proclaiming himself to be the “toughest unregistered nurse anywhere.”

He gives a really mean enema.

Sadly, the blue team has regressed to a state of denial. Leprechaun Dave insists that he’s the better fighter. He only lost because he had an idiotic game plan.

At least my hair came out okay.

“Coach” Frankie comes out of his state of stupor enough to mutter that, maybe, he should have warned Dave about taking shots to the head. Yeah, I think that would have been good advice to give. Especially, since I seem to remember Frankie saying something to the effect that Dave wouldn’t even blink at Phillipe’s punches. Oh, well, live and learn, or not. “Coach” Frankie goes on to say that Phillipe didn’t really win, he just took the win that Dave handed him with his bad strategy.

I’m right. The world’s wrong. I’m going to be a bitter old man.

So, Gasmii, what do you think. Is Phillipe Nover as good as he looks? Are you rushing out to get duck eggs? And, who do you think is going to win this thing? As of now, I’m hoping for Ryan Bader and Fainter Phillipe, even though it would do my heart good to see Hugger John get the contract.

Hugs,

Yenta