I have a really low tolerance for whiners. Now, sometimes whining is justified as a means of blowing off steam, or just getting some negative emotions out about a really bad situation…but that’s not the kind of whining I’m talking about.

Oh, no.

I’m talking about the kind of whining you do when, say, your height-challenged partner on The Amazing Race is about 1/10th the size of the rather imposing animal standing next to her, is having difficulty maneuvering said animal because, oh, I don’t know, she’s wearing a suit of armor…and you…you have the audacity to gripe in the car that you do everything.

I believe it was about this stage of the race the last time Charla & Mirna were on the show, when I wanted to figure out a way to somehow crawl into the television, pin Mirna down and just let Charla go at her with some sort of native torture device from the country of {wherever they are that week}.

Now, Charla is not completely without responsibility in contributing to this morning’s rant…oh no. When you wind up intersected with a couple of go-getters like KandyDust and you think you might not be able to eat roughly the equivalent of your height in homemade sausages…speak up. Don’t say, “Whatever you guys want is fine” and then express your distaste for sausage afterwards.

Speaking of distaste for sausage, I must say last night’s eating challenge would have been almost a carbon copy of the Hungarian Soup Fiasco of 2005…if only we’d had live music. Oh well, what do you do. We did however, experience the same “God, I could use about 15 Alka Seltzers” look before the wretching began, at which point Eric delivered the gut-bustingly (literally) funny, “Ladies and gentlemen, Miss California!”

As a side note to the whole Intersection concept…CU and I thought that would have been a great way to unload the two weakest teams in one fell swoop. That’s right…if by some chance you’re stuck with the team in last place who already has a 30-minute penalty looming over them because there’s no way they’ll come in first unless Doc Brown can somehow FedEx his time machine to Poland…if you’re stuck with them…you’ll be sent home. Too bad, so sad. That’s what you get for lingering down in the bottom third of the pack.

Since the masterminds behind this show cannot legitimately influence international flight schedules, and obviously didn’t want Team Guido to suffer the unspeakable embarrassment of coming in last place by like, a week and a half…they simply manipulated a few timing details and made the other teams wait around for their buses to Auschwitz, which if you think about it, is rather creepy.

Ultimately though, Team Guido (or, “Bad Gay” as we had recently termed them…you all know who “Good Gay” is) goes home and we’re spared the eye-rolling I’m sure we would have had to endure had Charla & Mirna won the trip to St. Lucia for coming in first. “Saint who?”