Mon, 14 Apr 2008 22:41:00
Rock Of Love 2 Finale - Bret’s Rock of Love or “AMBRE AMBRE AMBRE”
This is it. The big moment we’ve all been waiting for, when we find out that
the script has always called Ambre to win as the “Comeback Kid” Ambre wins after OH MY GOD DID YOU KNOW SHE WAS ALMOST ELIMINATED WAY BACK AT THE BEGINNING AND NOW SHE WON IT ISN’T THAT FUNNY HOLY COW JUST GOES TO SHOW YOU!
Let’s whore it up.
The final two:
Ambre - Hombre, simply because of the spelling
Daisy - Muppetface. As matthean noted in week 3, she looks exactly like Janice from the Muppet Show.
- Recap; everything the two finalists have been through. Focusing on Hombre’s OH MY GOD COME FROM BEHIND REMEMBER SHE ALMOST GOT ELIMINATED, Daisy’s hotness, and for fuck’s sake they featured Bret using the word “mediocracy” again. Mee-dee-ock-rih-TEE. TEE, you dipfuck. “Mediacracy” is the closest thing to the word you are saying, and it means something else entirely. And is a made-up non-word anyway. SHUT THE FUCK UP. Dummy.
- “And now, the exciting finale of Rock of Love.” We pick up with Douche announcing the trip to Meh-hee-coh. Hombre reminds us, for the fucking sake of fucking fuck again, that she was almost eliminated.
I’m serious. I’m going to go postal if they keep this up.
- Beers at elimination and then through the magic of some really bad editing, we’re packing for Mexico, then the sun rises and we’re off.
- Hombre does a double bad acting job. In confessional she’s all “We’re (big pause) flying (big pause and drop-mouth stupid face) to Mexico!” and on the plane Bret’s asking if they;re ready for Mexico and she so oversells her response. She’s like that really enthusiastic, yet untalented girl in the drama department of your high school who keeps getting parts just because people feel bad for her and “We want to let her do something, for God’s sake the kid loves acting” but she’s fucking terrible at it.
That’s our Ambre Lake. A shitty actress. Get that one, will ya, Google? Ambre Lake is a shitty actress. Also, Bret Michaels is a douchebag.
- Bing. We’re in Mexico already. Douchefessional that he took some time to really plan some great stuff. LIAR. You were handed a call sheet each morning. Do me a favor and eat a lot of sugar will ya?
- They’re having a HUGE intro to the Me hotel in Cancun. 1. How appropriate that Bret Michaels is staying in a place called “Me.” 2. He’s so earnestly selling how much he loves the hotel, etc. “We love the hotel.” You just got here. You mean “I was told to say we love the hotel because this trip was comped as long as we talk endlessly about how much we love it, right?”
Man, am I bitter? One more and then the reunion, Jim. That’s all, and then you can say goodbye to this dickbag forever. And Poison too. Fuck the lot of them.
Moving on. Awesome-ometer; 1, for the “traditional Mayan dance.” That poor bastard in the Mayan costume. This is probably about as traditionally accurate as my asshole, but the tourists love this shit. The whole dance and costume are probably catering to what the white folks *think* Mayan culture was about. sort of like the “Polynesian” dances and shit in Hawaii. And what’s worse, they have to dance in a fucking car port for three white assholes who just stepped out of a stretch limo.
You know, if I was Mexican...I might hate white people a little.
- Hombre so ridiculously oversells her confessional about the dancers that it makes me want to punch her in the cooch.
- Daisy; “Bret gave us presents.” Festooned with the Me logo. So yeah...I’m sure he spent hours tracking them down.
- He left a note saying he’d see them at dinner, but it wasn’t in verse. Did they not bring that Production Assistant who writes those with them? Dinner time.
- Question time. Daisy has a list. Really. On paper. With a pen to check off the ones she’s asked.
- Question: Is Bret’s attraction to her ONLY physical? Awesome-ometer; 2. Answer: She’s a mystery, so it’s tough for him to say where’s she’s at. Douchefessional; “So now I need for Daisy and me to connect on a much more cerebral level. mental, if you will.” Yes, I think I will, fucktard. Because that’s what cerebral means. CAN WE GET A LARGE LEMONADE, EXTRA SUGAR FOR MR. MICHAELS, ASAP? If you could maybe boil me up a simple syrup and help me inject in in his veins that would be great.
He confirmed everything her question belies; he’s into her for her body and thinks she uses her sexuality all the time. Hombre tried to pile on with her “I agree with Bret” bullshit. Daisy tried to make her give a SPECIFIC example of when Daisy “led with her sexuality.” Hombre’s example? That Daisy is always banging on his door to spend time with him.
Can someone just say it? She sucks and fucks instead of *talks* and then wonders why no one takes her seriously. Can we just *SAY* it? Because this conversation is like listening to two lumps of beef debate politics, in two different languages. Nobody knows what the fuck anyone is talking about, and neither one is saying anything worth hearing in the first fucking place.
- Hombre asks Bret what he thinks the two women bring. Douche says that he fears Hombre is in it just to win it. So she interrupts him and says “I’m sorry I just gotta do this.” And then mouthfucks him with her old lady tongue.
2. Thanks for making it obvious that you are playing tactics just to win the game...just like the script says you should.
- Daisy says that Hombre is walking on the wild side to try to break out of her shell, that she doesn’t do rocker guys. Bret agrees. Well fucking DUH. She’s a good little Southern daughter of a fairly conservative guy. She’s probably never dated outside her own faith before much less outside her own social class. God help us all if she ever brought home a black guy!
You know, Ambre never stops overselling. As Daisy is talking, Ambre has this look on her face:
Her answer; “You’re not the typical guy that I date, but I’ll tell you what you are. You’re exactly what I’m looking for.” All over-sold, all over-acted. Hombre has all the sincerity of a used appliance salesman.
- Hombre gets her date tomorrow, Daisy the next day. Muppetface is all torqued out because she has to wait. Dinner over. Douche is going to his room to “think.” That’s code for “I gotta call the concierge and have one of those cheap Mexican peasant whores sent to my room.” Commercial.
- The sun also rises in Mexico. Hombre is so excited as she gets ready for her day-long date. Daisy decides to confront her over the “use my sexuality” thing. Ambre tries that bullshit response that she always does, which is to lie and pretend that she never meant it in a bad way, when of course that is exactly how she meant it. Daisy comes back with the fact that as a Muppet baby, she feels comfortable with her body and feels confortable being sexy. And made of 97% man-made fibers. And being fire-retardant. And having a hand stuffed up her to make her mouth move.
Then Muppet says to Hombre that Hombre doesn’t feel sexy. How could she? Especially in a room with Sex Kitten Porno Star Stereotype Number 13? She’s old compared to Daisy. She looks old compared to Daisy. She dresses like a frump. If Douche hadn’t made a big deal about her abs the first night she’d be dressed even frumpier. Hombre doesn’t take this criticism well. Daisy says she walks shoulders frumped forward. She does. It’s totally true. Daisy did a perfect imitation of it.
Ambre’s confessional is that Daisy is hot, but surgery can make Ambre hotter. But surgery can’t make Daisy smarter. Doh. The argument devolves into a “I’m better than you” nonsense fight.
- Hombre-fessional that this argument makes her more determined than ever to prove herself to Bret. I’m sure Muppetface will thank you for proving her right about you when you try to whore it up on your date. Might I suggest bending over in front of him and stretching? He seems to really like that. Also, blowjobs. I hear he loves those. Just ask Lacey.
- Awesome-ometer: 3. He’s taking her on a “Mayan jungle experience” at Xcaret. Oh for fuck’s sake. Tourists will fucking do anything if you slap a “This is old stuff” label on it. It’s a trek through some ruins then a day at the spa. I swear to fucking christ I will never ever go to one of these tourist trap, native-exploiting bullshit things ever. The stone isn’t even real. You may as well just go back to Vegas! This place looks like the alien set in an old Star trek episode.
- They walk around a built-up, faux-material walkway through the “nature park” which looks for all the world like the jungle room in any shitty zoo, then find some lagoon thing. A poor “native Mayan” bastard rows them out to some mid-pond massage tables, and a really fucking awful Bret Michaels ballad sets the mood. if the mood is “Make Jim vomit.”
Jesus H. Christ this show is making me angry tonight.
- Hombre decides to crawl on top of Douche.
It progresses into her trying to be sexy, kissing his neck and shit, and it isn’t working. Mostly because the song sucks in ways that none of these whores ever thought of. Plus Ambre is about as sexy as a root canal. And if you have some kind of weird dental fetish and think that root canals are sexy, fuck off my site you weirdo. Commercial. Thank fuck the song is over.
- We’re back. Oh imagine that, it’s lunch and a conver/////// OH CHRIST! Oh fuck you gotta see this. Forget anything I was about to say.
Dude. Bret. Dude. You should sit in on editing so they never catch you doing shit like that. It makes the wig very, very obvious. If VH1 goes high-def you’ll never get away with it next year.
Do you guys think Bret gets his wigs from the Sheinhardt Wig Corporation? Awesome-ometer; 4
- The conversation is about how they are so much alike. Then Douche douchefessionals that isn’t it funny that Ambre was one of the first girls who was supposed to OH MY GOD DID YOU KNOW THAT SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO GET ELIMINATED AND NOW SHE’S HERE AT THE FINALS AND oh fuck you VH1 I wish all of you slow, painful cancers. I hope all of you had money invested in Bear Stearns. Pricks.
- He’s worried that she can’t hang as a rock star girlfriend. She over-acting-fessionals (am I stretching that gimmick too far yet?) that her being a stodgy old mom sets her apart. Sure it does. Ever you say, honey.
- He says that having the two of them to choose from is a great time in his life, but a hard decision. Jesus. Can you imagine the gall of asking two women to declare their love for you and then telling them straight to their face that you can’t decide between them? What kind of woman would put up with that, even for a small piece of the 80’s cash pie? And what kind of guy would want a woman who would earnestly be all “Oh yeah, this must be so hard for you to decide that you aren’t in love with me after making me declare it to you six million times, and then go run off with this other girl you’ve been making me compete against for two weeks.” Bret Michaels, that’s who. Because he’s a douchebag.
The sun also sets in Cancun. DOUBLE AWESOME ALERT! Awesome-ometer: 6. They stroll through the grounds of the hotel to get freshened up for dinner.
- Back to the room with the Muppet. Holy edited tensions Batman!
- Daisy’s tat is a whole tableau of Nightmare Before Christmas. That’s kind of more awesome than I first thought, as I don’t *really* like sleeves on women. The work is pretty good, too. The more I see of it the more I like it. I hate the stars on her neck though. Those were a terrible, horrible choice and should be lasered off ASAP.
I know the pics are hard to see, but the art in the tat is pretty cool.
- Muppet asks about their date. Hombre decides that she doesn’t deserve an answer. They start bickering again. Who fucking cares. Ambre over-delivers a few choice lines, like “For a pretty girl, you;re the ugliest person I’ve ever met.” Bad. Actress. Hombre calls Muppet a bitch as she walks out of the room.
- You know, for a not-really-very-short girl, Ambre has got some stumpy fucking legs. She strolls to her dinner with Douche, who has a gift for her. He described it as a “Little rock & roll meets a little cool meets a little classy.” Only it’s fucking horrible.
Good lord. That man has zero taste. In anything.
- The dinner convo is more of the “I like you.” “Well I like you!” stuff that feels so fucking scripted. “By the way, for the record, I’m not wearing any underwear.” Douchefessional that he thinks that’s the best thing a woman can say. meanwhile I retch a little, because “I’m not wearing any underwear” means a few things.
1. It means that during the normal course of just being a human - especially a human in a warm climate like, say, Mexico - your privates generate moisture, and the whole point of underwear is to help absorb and wick away that moisture. If you don’t wear them, then it just sits on you, until it dries, but more moisture always comes, and then the bacteria and yeast start in and the next thing you know, the whole damn hotel room smells like a cross between a sewage treatment plant and a San Francisco pier.
2. It means there’s a good chance that your buh-gine is going to run against the furniture at some point. The same furniture that 6,963 sweaty tourists have rubbed their asses on for the last umpteen years, after riding Mexican buses, riding in Mexican cabs, rubbing up against fuck knows what all day, and of course depositing their own genital sweat into the mix. Oh yum! SO SEXY!
Ladies, wear the fucking panties. Not wearing them is not half as sexy as it seems on TV
- Oh. Then she shows him. Am I supposed to believe that these two are all giggly and attracted to each other? I mean I know he’ll take a flying fuck at a rolling donut given half a chance, but come on.
- They go to his suite. he give her (read: us the viewers) a tour. It’s a commercial for Me. I wonder if he got a little something extra for all these blatant commercials during the show, or was it something he had to do in order to get the contract. I;d want a little extra scratch for being so blatant a pitch whore. It’s decidedly non-rock & roll.
- Awesome-ometer; 7. Douche-fessional; “This is it everybody. This is the moment of truth.” Really? Pretending that you are going to put your cock in this actress is the moment of truth? If you say so, dude.
Can i just re-iterate something? If this were real, what we have here is a guy making a bunch of women compete to get to be his “special lady.” At the end, as it was last year, he takes the two finalists on a trip. It is plainly stated that he sleeps with both of them, and they’re perfectly OK sharing his cock and being made to stand there while he picks only one of them and then unceremoniously dumps the other one.
What the fuck?
- Next morning. OH FUCKING BLOODY HELL THE WIG.
He thanks her for a great day and an “even more awesome-eser night.” I think that counts. Awesome-ometer; 8. Jesus Jumped Up Christ on a sidecar that wig is terrible. It looks like a plastic mold of what a wig might look like.
- That about wraps it up for them. Hombre heads back to the room, and Muppetface’s duck-faced pout-fest which is no doubt waiting for her. Cut to the balcony where Muppetface is trying so hard to make Hombre jealous. While I don’t like Ambre, but this is pathetic. Ambre calls her out on it and Daisy pulls the same game on her that Ambre tries all the time: “What? What am I doing? I’m just...”
- The date starts. You can smell the vibe right away. It’s all goofy and surface and stupid, and “awesome.” Awesome-ometer: 8. He’s only interested in one thing with Daisy. He;s probably right, I mean she’s not exactly the deep end of the pool or anything. May as well poke & go.
- their date is deep sea fishing, a cruise and drinking. The whole point is to get her drunk and ranting, I suppose. Douche-fessional: “I wanna find out besiodes Daisy being one of the hottest women I’ve ever laid eyes on, I wanna find out what’s goin’ on inside her noggin. In her heart, in her soul. (REALLY douchey, sleazy voice here) And then suck face with her.”
He really thinks that shit makes him seem cool. he;s like that dick at the party who is always making the not-quite-funny jokes that are just a little inappropriate.
- He tells Daisy, YET AGAIN that he’s into her for her body and some shit about great sex and how he knew it would be awesome. Awesome-ometer: 9. OK, BRET, WE GET IT. AMBRE ALMOST WAS ELIMINATED AND DAISY HAS A HOT BODY, AND YOU ARE THE KING OF ALL PUSSY. WE FUCKING GET IT.
He lays the “transitional period” rap on her again. The script here is that Bret already has his mind made up that Ambre is more “stable” and at Bret;s age, he’s still a rocker but wants to settle down. he is SO picking Ambre, and it’s all about rehabbing his image from the big mistake he made last year. He eliminated the slightly older women that never had a prayer, but this will be all about the come-from-behind victory and the fact that he picked the more “mature” one. Even though they have about as much chemistry as Draino and my asshole.
This is about solidifying that MILF fanbase of his so they keep buying his records and paying for tickets. he has about as much intent of dating Ambre later as I have of pouring a bottle of Draino in my ass with a funnel.
- Mawhn-tahge of fishing and riding the “King of the World” position on the boat. Then Muppet gets seasick. Bret is giving advice about how to deal with it. Dude...there’s nothing you can do. You either puke and pray it stops, ride it out, or take drugs to stop it. Talk all you want, but that shit will whup your ass until the boat stops moving. trust me, I know. I love the ocean, and it hates me. I get sick as fuck on big waves. Nothing to do but deal.
- They go to fish, and she’s stumbling...she’s for real seasick. She goes down to the deck. She’s losing circulation in her hands? Weird. He decides to turn the boat around. Douchefessional: “I really wanted to spend this most awesome day out with Daisy at sea, but I’m realizing; she’s a landlubber.”
And that’s why you should have ASKED before booking - or having the staff book - this kind of a day. Not everyone likes boats. Even if they do - like me - they may get sick anyway. But, the point of this shit is not to have a good time with a woman, the point of this shit is to prove that Bret can decide and determine what is going to happen, and you either get with the program or go home. Because as I said last week, your role as a potential “rock of love” is to subordinate your existence to his. Never make things hard for him, never be real, never question him, never present more than a minor bump in the road, something that he can “fix” with a hug and one of his stock “caring” phrases. Anything more than that and he’ll walk away.
Bret Michaels is Powerpoint deep.
- He tells the “captain” that Daisy’s seasickness is going beyond sick and going “into the mind, where she just wants off the boat.” Well fucking duh you stupid prick. I’m guessing Douche has never been severely motion sick. It’s one of the worst feelings. I’d rather be in a lot of pain. Luckily for me, on our honeymoon, I was both. Popped a disc in my back and went on an ocean run where I got so sick I had to stare at the floor for two hours.
Anyway, Bret’s a douche. She’s gonna hurl. Commercial.
- Back, and Daisy’s chucking margarita over the side of the boat.
Douchefessional that of all the girls he’s watched puke, Daisy is the hottest. OH FOR FUCKING FUCK’S SAKE YOU FUCKING SAD OLD PIECE OF SHIT STOP. Puking isn’t sexy and you are pretending that every fucking thing makes you horny and it’s sad and pathetic. It’s not cute or endearing or cool.
- He’s “caring” for her by hugging her and rubbing ice on her stomach, and she confessionals that she doesn’t think he could be more caring. SEE! See what I’m saying? A few easy lines, some ice and a hug. Meanwhile she has REAL issues in her life and he’s going to cut her loose so fast because of them it’ll make her head and gut spin all over again.
- Back on land. He douchefessionals that they are still gonna have a most awesome date. Awesome-ometer: 10. Double digits two weeks in a row! Sweetness. Jesus! before I even get a chance to move in another awesome as they part to get dressed for dinner. Awesome-ometer: 11.
- Weird. When Daisy went back to the room to get ready, wither Ambre was gone, or nothing happened. I vote for the second and why? No script. This wasn’t supposed to happen now because they were supposed to be on the boat all day. I caught you, VH1!
- Cut to dinnertime. Douche is wearing some spangly Ed Hardy shirt and Muppetface is wearing what looks like a satin nighty. hey, when your ass looks like that, you can wear whatever the fuck you want.
- Gift time. Same box as the one Ambre got. Could it possibly be the same necklace only with different charms?
It is. Fuck me...it is. It’s the same fucking thing. Jesus Christ. If that doesn’t demonstrate how little he thinks of them...even if this is as fake as I think it is, if *I* were in the Bret position I would insist on the producers differentiating the gifts based on, you know the person I was supposed to give them to. If for no other reason than I would like like a total twat giving the same gift to two women on TV.
This is a fucking sitcom plot for fuck’s sake. SO cheesy.
- Sidebar; My prediction is that inside of three years, Daisy ends up as a contract girl for Vivid’s Alt division. Or worse, Elegant Angel.
- She tells him she is at a point that she wants to change and grow. And he replies that is...wait for it...that’s right, awesome. Awesome-ometer; 12.
- Muppetface tries to say something, and I think she was trying to tell him that Ambre went apeshit when Daisy called her old and boring or whatever the hell they said during that fight. Plus, she’s trying to sell herself as the hotter, more exciting one. two things leaped out at me:
1. Daisy can’t talk. She is literally incapable of beginning a thought and expressing it coherently. She starts a sentence, throws in a bunch of “you knows” and “umms,” then cuts halfway through to the beginning of another sentence, then leapfrogs to the past half of whatever conclusion she hopes you’ve reached. She talks like her brain is a boggle shaker.
2. I’m the middle of this she said ‘I’m not the girl (she grabs her own boobs), obviously with the white picket fence” And douche replies with “That;s not what I’m looking for.” She keeps talking. realizing his mistake, and how that would damage the script later when he picks Ambre, he tries to cover it with ‘That’s not what I’m looking for in you.”
He’s picking Ambre, and those two will NEVER date. Not even once. It’s all for show.
- The babbling continues. she tells him she loves him. He says nothing in return, but starts sucking face. Dinner over. Did they even get any food?
- Time for Muppetface’s turn on the Bret Michaels Pussy Spit. Fucking hell. These people have no god-damned respect for themselves. Commercial.
- SIDEBAR; Holy fuck, it just gets worse.
Fucking hell. That’s just *sad*.
- The next morning. Awesome-ometer: 13. I believe that is a tie for the all-time record, so, you know, historic. He sends her off after dumping loads into her all night. Sucker. You just got your vagina rented.
- The girls are back together in the room. Supertension is in the air. No one speaks. Ambre-fessional that she doesn’t get the silence. “Am I missing something here?” Yes, you are. First one to speak loses, sweetie. if you ask, you *need* to know and Daisy wins. If she volunteers it too soon, then you win because she had to rub it in your face. In her mind, I mean. It’s a silly power struggle played by immature goofballs. Like the kind of women that would go on a reality show to date a washed up rock star.
Take my advice - advice I learned from WOPR; the only way to win is not to play.
- Ambre loses. She is really fixated on that fact that Daisy imitated her walk. Struck a nerve? Ambre asks her why the silent treatment...once again, Muppetface speaks a language that is not right down to earth and that no one can understand. She starts four different sentences, all of which are trying to say that she;s in some kind of zone or fantasy land where only she and Bret exist. She never finishes any of them, then looks at Hombre and says “Do you get it?” No, Muppetface, no one gets it because you’re not actually saying whatever the it is that we’re supposed to get.
Huge parts of that girl’s brain are just missing.
“You degraded me by calling me a stripper.”
“Dude that’s your occupation! I’m a TV host, you’re a stripper.”
First of all, cable access in LA does not make you a “TV Host.” Secondly, well, yeah, she’s a stripper, but no stripper wants to be reminded of that. The number of strippers in any given club who strip because they god-damned well want to can usually be counted on one finger or less. They HATE being reminded of what they are and what they do. Apparaently it’s an insult to simply state the facts as they exist. Seen it a million times. Hell, we saw it last year on this show with Heather.
If you want to see Daisy’s tee-tas, BTW, just head to Shotgun Willie’s while in the Denver area. I hear she;s still working there, and still living with Charles.
- SOB! Daisy is really scared. Of course that means muppet tears!
Aww, widdle stwipper girwl wanna stay wif big wock staww! Whatever.
- Room service shows up at the room with a note for the girls. It’s in verse this time. They get spa treatments. How exciting............wait, that’s not excitement. That is my heart stopping dead from boredom.
- BIG logo shot.
What a surprise, it’s part of the hotel. Gee, comped gifts again? Who’d a thunk it? Mawhn-tahge of the Yhi Spa.
- Oh for FUCK’S SAKE. Mawhn-tage of Ambre’s doings on the show. YES, I KNOW SHE WAS ALMOST ELIMINATED. I FUCKING WELL FUCKING GOD-DAMNED WELL FUCKING KNOW IT ALREADY. This is just padding the extra half hour.
- And now it’s Daisy’s turn for the same exact kind of recap of all her doings.
- Oh GOD, Douche gets a recap mawhn-taghe that starts out with him strolling along the surf.
Nice strategic holes, dickweed. That was cool when we were 16. Also, another shitfuck ballad that is making me more than a little seasick myself...OH FUCKING the recap ends with the sheesiest “bret is the sunset” pose ever.
Fuck me. It’s so bad it’s beyond cheese. That should be labeled as a processed cheese food.
- Commercial. THANK MOTHERFUCKING GOD THIS IS ALMOST IT. The long night is almost over for me!
- Elimination time. Hombre is petrified. She over-acts a line about how Bret holds her heart in his hands. She’ll feel complete of he picks her. I buy exactly none of it.
- Daisy elimination-fessionals that she’s scared, but if Douche picke Ambre she’ll be shocked. Prepare to be shocked.
- Driven separately, they arrive and walk down some fake Mayan temple set. So cheesy.
- The douche arrives from a pit under the stairs. Holy fuck, the suit.
That could not be worse. Casino called, douchebag, and they want their wardrobe back.
- Usual lines about how they both look great. Thanks for taking the journey and all that shit. He douchefessionals that he made the wrong decision last year. Yeah, financially...picking the young girl cost him money. betcha!
- Speechifying about how he has been through X Y and Z with Daisy. Same shit as he always says. Then he fucking says again that Ambre was almost eliminated. I can’t believe they keep saying it over and fucking over.
Fuck you VH1 I’M NOT STUPID YOU BASTARDS, I GET THE GOD-DAMNED STORYLINE. I SAW PI AND UNDERSTOOD IT, SO FUCKING KNOCK IT OFF.
- Choice time. Dramatic music. Chick-fessionals. He hems and haws. ‘COMMERCIAL! You’d think we were watching a Fox game show.
- Back. Can we just pick Ambre and get it over with? Douche babbles some more. More about each girl. More chick-fessionals. STOP FUCKING DELAYING IT. “Daisy would you come down here please”
She thinks he’s picking her. Doh. Sorry, Muppetbaby, but your tour ends here.
She’s stunned. He gives her some shit about how he loves being around her but it’s just not going to work. Muppet-fessional full of sobbing how she’s in love with him and seven half sentences. She wanders away into some kind of artificial cave, which has to be some sort of metaphor.
- Ambre gets picked. WHAT A SURPRISE! WHAT A TWIST OF FATE! And then, just to solidify my hatred for all things Bret and VH1, he fucking douchefessionals AGAIN that Ambre almost got eliminated and blah blah blah.
If in the future you read about a crazy fat man assaulting the VH1 studios with a arsenal of weapons, screaming nonsense about “I FUCKING GET IT YOU BASTARDS” you’ll know what happened.
He uses that “rock of like, rock of lust” line *again*. Blah blah, they both think they’re the one for them.
Last line, from Bret: “Now let’s go have hot monkey sex.”
That’s so fucking appropriate. Such a typical cheesebag line. Perfect way to end this show.
- The reunion looks pretty fucked up. Heather and Daisy literally get into a huge physical fight. Maybe that will be fun. All I know is it’ll truly be the end of this shit.
I’d love to lie and say it was fun, but after awhile, it wasn’t. Still, it was a great exercise in making up new words...and it does improve my typing speed. Just not my accuracy. :)
Posted by JimK at 10:41 PM on April 14, 2008
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Categories: Television, Rock Of Love, Rock Of Love 2
Tags: TV, Hair Metal, 80s, Bret Michaels, Poison, Reality, VH1
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