Dschungelcamp, Day 11: Everything is poop

Attention, insult-ethical special announcement! Before this really starts today, we still need to clarify something fundamental, namely the current insult policy for men. Actually, the episode of Monday night was nothing more than a training video of the CWM on this sensitive topic, which was permeated by annoying jungle events.

Acceptable insults that can tippitoppi in the broad TV public raushauen someone, are therefore: piece of shit, Kackvogel, stupid asshole, Spackolacko. On the other hand, it is completely unacceptable to call someone "gay" via an Instagram story, as Yotta used to do with the CWM.

It is again one of those points where you just want to surrender and put yourself under his weight-laden therapy blanket: one seriously uses "gay" as an insult, the other takes it up as the worst conceivable dupe ever and rages on this part even more violently than on the Insulting B-side, which Yotta then hung up on: The advice to let him in on his pug sexually. But okay, finally, the CWM fled even in the past few days like a casual called "fuck the hen" out. And who makes a difference between hen and pug, is a lousy speciesist.

Comeback of the day: Forget the zero-star disgrace: Yotta delivers in the disgusting test mildly choking, but ultimately stable. And after his return to the camp, he modernizes one of the most famous Zen Buddhist meditation riddles: for centuries, one already broods over the question of how well the clapping sounds with just one hand. After all, Yotta solves the mystery of how sad a high five might look to itself. The CWM, the little defiant little head, does not really like to clap with him. And so Yotta celebrates himself, he has routine there: "BÄM! The Machine is back!" The food processor, you would have to say after the passed eating test strictly speaking, a somewhat fluctuating in the performance Testomix, but of course that's not quite so good.

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Versoftung des Tages : Was that a real human cracking in the muscular He-Man formwork, or did Yotta simply expand his suggestion assortment to the manipulation midnight after the avaricious drop in attendance at Miracle Morning? For once, let's just assume honesty. And feel with the shrunken to Bastian misery heap that tells at night by the campfire and the jungle camp of the regular, systematic father beatings of his childhood. In the eyes of his father, it was always the child's fault, Yotta says in tears, that he always made him feel "that I'm not enough." That spins a fine thread to Sibylle's sad automonologist of yesteryear. They sometimes do everything to forget, but actually there are really only lonesome little people in the jungle.

Collateral damage of the day: "I have fears, a bit," reports Evelyn, who is placed in a nocturnal treasure hunt as a thin Pufferscheibchen between the two malmenden enemy masses. Together with Yotta and CWM she has to press in a rock hole for a buzzer, an adeptly senseless trash update of the Plato's cave equations (Plato? Was not that the dog of Mickey Mouse?). However, the CWM does not feel like it: "I do not pretend to be a team with someone who fucks you in the back."

While it's still pondered whether this is not just an anatomically somewhat taut variation of the CWM's outrageous "gay" denial, the arguments are actually reconciled. And Evelyn's initial fear turns out to be absolutely justified: "You can shut up now," Yotta snaps at them in the middle of the historic peace negotiations: "We just have no challenge, girls, we have a serious conversation!" Coarse remains rough, because no pills help.

Reprise of the day: The CWM inquires of Gisele about her "Pafömm", a temporary vaginal secretion scent advertised by her, and thus brings back memories of a treat from the trash annals of the super-glamourous Scheidenekel: 2001, the unforgotten Zlatko in the The first German Big Brother season almost as much before the menstruation as before Shakespeare, and the CWM is in his disgust against female body fluid now in no way: "That's what disgusting!" (Leila, on the other hand, awoke to unexpected life in this humid, warm environment, like a newt, and asked Evelyn, with interest, "Do you sell acorn cheese?")

Previously, the CWM with a trained sausage expert look already the lips of the ladies in attendance and the persistently denying Evelyn assumed with similar disgust operative paunch expansion. However, she had a bruise and einichfestfest explanation ready: everything genetically! Or, in her words: "My dad is fat too."

Sprayed lips? At the camp? #IBES pic.twitter.com/umLQFOFzqv

Lifehack of the day: Breathe! And then breathe again. And again. And again! "Breathe deeply helps against gagging while eating and during oral sex," Leila informed at the jungle exam, where she competed with Sandra and Yotta. In fact, in the long disgusting story of this format, you never saw anybody taking in a relaxed pig uterus and mouse tails. "Chew, chew, swallow, swallow!", She also guided Yotta through his rumen-gagging. Is there a new star flashing in the coaching sky?

Secondary character of the day : The currywurst mum (CWMM). Not just a good tip, if you want to treat yourself to some good scrabble at the next game, but also a real authority figure. "My mother is very worried," her son Mann was afraid, as his joint treasure hunt with Yotta would arrive home at home. "With such a criminal you go on television," his guardian had reprimanded him before the move. After reconciliation, he feared: "My mother will have a monkey!" The already almost scratched BMX bike for the next Bursday he can now make up for it.

Stammelei of the day: The campers are to submit their Votingaufruf in rhyme form, a beautiful chicane. Alexandrians? None. The CWM can only deliver a fragmented "Sausage - Thirst, Curry - Dörri, Chris - Piss - Schiss". Only one is again a winning at life : namely, Peter, who casually rhymes his name on "Random". Mooooment, did anyone say "gay" here?

Gnääderakt of the day: Gisele is out. Or, with her words, "Well then."