Rock Of Love 2 Week 1 - Back to the Rocking Horse, or “SERIOUSLY, I WAS FAMOUS AND IN A BAND ONCE!”

It’s another season of douchery!  Get ready to meet the “ladies” vying for the affections of the douchiest dude who used to be in rock, Bret “I swear it’s not a weave” Michaels.

- Douche rolls up.  Not on the Hollywood Taxi, a show element used (overused?) in the first season...no, this time he’s got a proper cock replacement sports car.  Looks like a Ferrarri from the quick shot.

- “...that bitch goddess I call rock and roll.” OH fuck you.  The douche factor just went from 0 to 60 faster than that prancing horse.

- A mahwn-tahge recap of season 1, an intro of a “bigger, better mansion” and Big John, and then into the just fucking awful theme song.  I’m feeling the old hatred bubbling up.  Dear God I dislike this man.

- OK, FOR FUCK’S SAKE STOP SHOWING HIM DRIVING THE CAR.  We get it, he has a red ferrarri.

- First girl is actually a reality veteran...Megan was on Beauty & The Geek.  She’s “drawn to Bret like a nun to a convent.” First of all, WTF?  Second of all, liar.  You are drawn to reality TV you whore.  By the way, she’s the Brandi C. of the new season.  Wes, you were right on the money.

- Second “lady” is Peyton.  Bit of a whiskey voice, and she looks like maybe she’s downed a few in her lifetime.  Rough edges is what I’m trying to say.  Not a bad looking woman, just...rough.  Not sure who she is yet, but she reminds me of both Rodeo and Red Cuntya.

- Next we meet SCARY RUSSIAN BROAD.  In Soviet Russia, girl picks up you!  Literally.  This is...a strong-looking woman.  Not sure why she’s on this show, she seems better suited for American Gladiators.

- Destiney.  No, I didn’t spell that wrong.  SHE did.  “I’m bisexual.” And a coked-out stripper whore who learned how to put on makeup from a guy that just graduated clown college.

- Oh Christ.  Imagine it...A hot California summer day, the sun beaming down ever so brightly, not a cloud in the sky.  The camera is inside a gated driveway.  The motor clunks into motion and the gate draws back slowly to reveal...Bret with his headlights on for dramatic effect.  Unless Ferrarri has made daytime driving lights standard...in which case *I’m* the big douchebag here.

- Daisy gets a moment next.  The car made her hot.  Or nervous.  Or something.  I bet it’s a rental.

- Ambre.  Again, not a spelling mistake on my part. Bret takes her breath away.

- “Are we ready to rock this house?” I dunno, are you ready to get another fucking catchphrase, Douchehole?  How fucking hard can it be to think up things that play on the word “rock?” I know there’s a writers strike and all, but fuck, man…

- “We had a lot of rock of like, a ton of rock of lust but very very little rock of love.” OHMIGAWD I HATE HIM.  I WANT TO KICK HIS FACE IN WITH A STEEL TOE BOOT.  I want to start a new punk rock movement just to rebel against his fucking musical style in an effort to make certain that no one will ever mistake me for a Bret Michaels fan.  He makes me hate the 80s.

- “Awesome” number one!  So of course he has to tell us his douche-losophy (yeah, that’s a word now) in regards to what he’s looking for; hot.  His exact words were, emphasized, I might add: “physical attraction.” Then, after a dramatic pause he listed some other qualities.  Nice to see he hasn’t learned a goddamned thing from last season!  He then invites the ladies to get “completely naked” and have an awesome party.  Awesome number 2, AND!  AND!  AND!  We get our first “Ahwhassagoinawhn.” That saying is, with the exception of letting that poor woman tattoo his name on her neck last year, his single douchiest thing.  every time he says it, my skin crawls and my soul dies just a little bit.

AWESOME-ometer: 2.  Ahwhassagoinawhn-ometer: 1.

I can hardly believe this.  4 minutes in and he hasn’t mentioned diabetes or his kids!

- Big John lays down the ground rules like last year.  Same rules.

- We meet another girl...Kristy Joe.  She’s the first legitimately pretty girl we’ve seen so far.  WAAAAAAAAAY too much makeup in the “live action” part where she’s meeting bret.  Much better in her confessional where she’s wearing less.

- Aww!  Big John isn’t getting to kick five whores the fuck out...oh wait, Douche is making the cut.  He’s telling certain girls to “hang.” One of them is new...Erin, one of the black girls.  Erin is the “punk black girl” one from Central Casting.  You know the one..."Look, we hired a black girl...but she loves punk and is acceptable to white people!  Aren’t we good progressive people?” I hate reality producers.  Anyway....basically Bret’s like “Big John’s gonna talk to you and I’ll...(douche pause)...see you later.” Oh for fuck’s sake, like we don’t know they’re getting in.

- We meet Aubry, who is thrilled and relieved that she made it in the house.  Guess what, Aubs?  You’d be the big winner if you got cut.  Unless you are already carrying herpes and chlamydia.  In which case welcome to the house.

- Korie is going straight for the bar.  Yes.  Korie.  If these aren’t stripper names I will eat my own ass.

- The four chosen to “hang” are the VIPs.  This is so fucking stupid.  They’re not especially attractive.  He doesn’t know them in any way.  They were obviously picked by the producers for some stupid fucking reason.  They get a special suite and shit...GEE, WILL THIS CAUSE CONFLICT IN THE HOUSE?

I think I’m losing my patience for reality TV at large.  I am so fed up with the stupid tricks and manipulations.  Just throw these cock-and-fame-hungry whorebuckets into a house and then them claw and scratch and ooze coochie juice all over the place like sap from a maple until Bret decides one of them is stupid and fug enough to turn his crank!  We don’t need the bullshit.

- AAAaaannnnd so it starts.  All the bitches are mad at the other bitches.  One of them said “Step up your game.” Oh for fuck’s....VH1, I AM NOT A RETARD.  Wait.  I’m watching this.  And detailing every moment of it for your enjoyment.

I take that back.  I am a retard.  Commercial.

- Destiney decides to “rock the stripper pole” in her shoes, purchased expressly for the pole.  Does that make her a stupid whore, or a whorey idiot?  Hard to decide.  Six of one, half-dozen of the other.  Also, her mouth sort of looks like those red wax lips you used to get when you were a kid.  Or maybe like two dead superworms.

- Angelique take a run at the pole.  How can I put this?  Imagine a super-hot Polish model.  Say, Paulina Porizkova.  Now make every one of her feminine features a total mockery of what feminine parts are.  An almost comic-book exaggeration of female secondary sex characteristics.  Now, give her a husky tranny voice and a ridiculous “Boris and Natasha” accent.  Oh, and inflate her lips and extra 45% from whatever you imagined, because Angelique’s lips makes Destiney’s lips look like Kenneth Branagh’s lips.  She’s not even human anymore.  She’s got to be at least 65% silicone.  By the way, Silicone can’t strip, she sort of went headfirst into the ground.

- Oh christ...photo time again.  Really?  Just the exact same shit from last year?  When can we expect the date at the western-themed steak house, or the tattoo parlor outing?

- Finally, we get to hear from Catherine.  Catherine is O.L.D.  Whatever she’s telling the producers?  Add ten.  or twenty.  She’s not ugly, or worn out, but her personal style is frozen in a weird blend of 60s and 80’s-retro-60s.  Maybe people don’t remember, but at the end of the 80s, right before grunge and hip-hop dominated the fashion world for like, eleven minutes, there was a 60s retro revival, and this chick is totally frozen in time. 

Bret throws up the horns and does the tongue thing.  Only, like everything he does, it’s not cool or ironic.  It;s just douche.  He means it, and not in the way that an old-school metalhead means it.  He weilds it like some douche-weapon.  No, not a weapon.  Armor.  he throws up the horns as if to ward off the years, and his impending baldness, by declaring “LOOK AT ME, I’M COOL.” Only he;s not.  Fuck you, Bret Michaels.  Fuck you for being such a douchebag.  You killed my puppy...the puppy in my heart.

Also, Awesome-ometer: 3

Anyway, he starts doing the same shit he did last year while taking pictures.  Same patter, same dumb shit.  We meet, in order:

Jackye - she spelled it, not me.  Kind of fug Long Island-looking chick.

Jessica.  Donna thinks she’s pretty.  I think she’s cross-eyed, five-headed and sort of a sorority dime-a-dozen chick.  At least she spells her name normally.

Roxy - Another other black girl to whom he’ll give the boot to as soon as it’s socially acceptable to do so.  She’s really pretty.  One of the few.  The proud.  The chicks Douche McWornOutWhores will never go for.

- Catherine, who showed every day of her 45...maybe 50 years on this planet.

- Sara, another black girl.  Again, I don’t know why they bother, unless it’s for the publicity.  He’ll never pick them.  Mark my words.

- Oh god.  Angelique.  Jesus ever loving jumped up christ on a sidecar, she makes my dick want witness protection.  She’s like the anti-sex.  Five minutes with her and I don’t care how horny you are, you might never want to fuck again.  You know how kind of scary Pam Anderson is now?  And how it’s confusing because back in the day, she was hot like scotch bonnets?  But now you see her and you’re all “Ooh!  Pam!” but then the reality is, she’s worn out, diseased and has fucked three of the dirtiest, most unwashed motherfuckers on earth, so your balls sort of send a signal to your brain that says “NO!  FOR FUCKING FUCK’S SAKE NO!  ABORT!  ABORT!”

Well, Angelique is exactly like that expect no one was ever attracted to her.  She’s like a scary French version of a Pam Anderson sex doll.  Only dumber.

BTW, Douche was with Pammy, but he’s not one of the three.  They are Kid Rock, Rick Solomon and the king of unwashed balls, Tommy Monsterdick Lee.  Why should he wash?  It’s eleventy and a half inches long.  These whores would suck it if it was covered in motor oil.

Anyway...she got naked for him. “The first topless girl for me in life is sort of like a trailblazer.  She;s like a Lewis and Clark.” Would it really be so wrong if I hunted him down and shot him with a special shotgun filled with, oh fuck, I dunno, pages from a dictionary and the brain of someone who was much smarter but died in a car wreck?  Come on.  That should be allowed.

- Daisy, who also took off her top.  She’s sleeved as well, and while I have nothing against women with tattoos, sleeves on women are just fucking awful.  Sorry, inked-up ladies!  Anyone who isn’t trying to bang you will probably tell you the same thing.  Unless they work in a tattoo parlor.

- Peyton is up next.  Now, she keeps her clothes on, but she does every single cliche “web porn” pose there is, in rapid succession.  Don’t be surprised if someone doesn’t unearth her on a porn site or forty in the near future.

- Destiney.  Whatever.

- Inna does a split and humps the floor.  Bret is impressed.  It’s sort of inevitable.  She’s frightening, clearly a whore and a bit ugly so of course he loves her.  Right before this Kristy Joe says she’s not gonna whore herself out like these other girls.  well duh.  You;re actually attractive.  besides, he’ll cut you anyway.  You;re not blonde, older, ugly and a whore with daddy issues.

- Courtney has some broke-ass teefs.  Ouch. Cute though.  She’s not exactly “sexy hot whore stripper” comfortable in this scenario either.  Look for her to hang around as the wallflower who needs to be “brought out of her shell” and then cut.  Like Mia from last year.

- Ashley and her itty bitty titty problem.  Douche says she’s self-conscious in a room full of DDs.  She’s also not wearing nearly enough makeup.  Come on, Ashley!  You need to buy 36 pounds of saline and at least a wheelbarrow full of Mac before you can hang with this crew of elite, refined ladies gutter sluts.

- Missi.  Not sure where the issippi went.  Ba-dum-dum.  You see what I did there?  Like the state.  Anyway...she must not be very interesting.  or they know this segment is running long.  Then Ambre, Niki (who looks like a platinum blonde Molly Shannon after a seven day bender in TJ) and Aubry blow by REALLY fast.  Aubry has the worst set of vampire fangs I’ve ever seen on a woman.  Real, actual fangs, one on each side.  Weird.

- Megan is torqued because Douche is making out with Vampirella.  That’s Aubry, by the way.  She’s got a nickname.  We paused it for a sec so I could comment on sucking face with Vamps and noticed another thing; Douche Michaels has a rockin’ ass wig on this year.  It’s living up to the promise of those publicity shots; so full, thick and lustrous.  Mush more than he had last year, which is weird.  As far as I know, hair on your scalp does not increase in thickness with age.  Bret Michaels might just be a medical miracle here, folks.  QUICK!  Call the Nobel people.  i want my fucking medal for this top-notch research.

So, yeah, Megan, the dippy one from Beauty and the geek is mad or something.  “This old lady is kissing Bret.” Yeah.  Whatever.  And she’s up next.  Douche tries to be all sarky and funny by saying she’s got a horrific body and he “allowed” her to kiss him.  Bret Michaels is almost as funny as prison rape - when it’s not on the Simpsons (and of course a half-season later on Family Guy).

OK, we’re 17 minutes in.  I may have to do this first episode in two parts or something.

- Kristy Joe is next. Douche notices that she’s actually pretty and leans in to kiss her.  She had the “nerve” (read: good sense) to wipe his mouth before kissing him, and he does this douchebag hand gesture - one of about a bajillion to come - of his finger being an erection and then deflating.  DUDE!  You just kissed a woman with vampire horse teeth that aren’t the right color and a complete skank who is on her second reality dating show!  You’re lucky she didn’t throw a handful of ethanol gel on your face and light it!  With the shit you’re carrying, I say we take off and nuke your crotch from orbit.  It’s the only way to be sure.

- The last girl getting photographed is Erin The Black Punk Rocker™.  1. I don’t call her that to mock her, but rather the producers who so clearly have her filling a role here. 2. Her new name shall be ETBPR™.  No, you can’t pronounce it, but this is a fucking blog, so play along.  :)

Awesome-ometer: 5

- Moving on to the next stage of our RoL script; the post-photography drinking binge.  Inna is a one-trick horse.  She’s not really dainty enough to call her a pony.  Girl is thick, is what I’m saying.  Anyway, she does the splits again.  No, that’s not gonna get old really fucking fast or anything.  peyton does that “urban” booty shake arm shake thing that every single woman in every rap video ever does.  It;s fucking scary when they do it and it;s worse when a somewhat thin white girl does it.  NO.  Stop it.  You’re making my penis wish for more Angelique screen time.  AND THAT IS MY WORST NIGHTMARE.  I’d rather dream about Freddy Krueger wanting to finger my asshole.

Actually, I had a dream like that once.  Only Freddy was wearing a priest collar and singing show tunes.  I was raised Catholic after all.

Back to the whores.  Chicks are drinkin, strippin’ off for the pool, lapdancing each other, and so forth.  Whatever.  Commercial.  We’re DEFINITELY breaking at the 30 minute mark and doing this in two parts.

- We’re back at Whore Central.  Courtney is neurotic about being “the fat brown girl.” her words, don’t get all mad at me.  Then Douche sends Big John to call for the VIP cumrags cockbaskets gonorrhea factories ladies.  Aaaaaaannnnd of course the next shot is one of the non VIP cumrags cockbaskets gonorrhea factories ladies getting all upset.  Oh my goodness, such dramatic tension!  Why Ah nevah!  Who could have forseen such strife?

- Awesome-ometer: 6.  Douche meets with the VIPs.  He picks Megan first.  She’s about 60% cute in a California Clone way.  Totally dime-a-dozen face, bolt-on titties, fairly tight body...throw a rock in Los Angeles and you will hit seven women like this, and maybe another fourteen on the deflection.  She’s also about as smart as wood.  Dead wood.  No...sawdust.  That has been baked in a kiln.  The space in her skull normally occupied by a brain is instead filled with Silly Putty.  She is clearly the Brandi C. of this season.  She’s pretending like she’s always been in love with Bret.  Not a fucking chance, dude.  But you probably know that and are just going to score. “I was really drunk making out with him, but I think I had a really good time!”

I shall call her Chazz.  Why?  Because Airheads, that’s why.  Plus, I imagine that’s the sound a syphilitic cock makes when cum comes out.  *chaaaaaazzzzz*.  MMM...syphilis.

To close her her segment, she blondely giggles “I love Bret Michaels.  Me and him for-ever!” I have cooked onions with more intelligence.

- Quick look at the party...they’re doing shots.

- Destiney is next.  She has a gift; a studded bandanna, which is so horrible I have no words.  Right now there is a guy in a brown trailer somewhere in America, his rusty 1979 Camaro parked outside, with a faded ‘Don’t Stop Bellievin’” bumper sticker peeling off the rusty, loosely-attached bumper.  He’s sitting in a 40 year old paisley barc-O-Lounger, drinking a can of Bud, scratching his balls through a 30 year old pair of Levis, wearing an old Journey tour shirt.  He is watching this, and he just turned to his 300 pound wife and said “Holy fuck, Mabel, that is one ugly goddamned bandanna!”

Also, Awesome-ometer: 7.

Oh.  She’s the obsessed fan stereotype.  And Douche used the same line as last year, that she was going to either “make sweet love to me or kill me.” I know we’re all supposed to recycle but this is ridiculous.

Lastly, Destiney wouldn’t be so awful if she didn’t have ridiculous balloon lips and wear more makeup than Marilyn Manson.  Stupidity ruins another almost pretty girl.

- Daisy gets some alone time next.  “It was like fireworks.” She’s on and on about the instant connection she thinks she has with Douche.  So she’s the Heather of this season...only fifteen years younger.  She’s also a “musician.” Oh fuck.  Last time that didn’t work out so well.

- Cut to Inna in the hot tub while Douche is mackin’ on Daisy; she’s drunk. As. Fuck. and ranting.  She hops out of the hot tub and jumps on Bret.  1. Douche is all “Good times ahead” or whatever, but Big John hauls her shit the fuck out of there: “This is VIP time.” Oh, it’s like that?  Really?  You;re just going to telegraph the manipulation this time?  Rock on.

- ETBPR™ is next.  Poor kid.  She’s just getting her time wasted, both by Douche and by the producers of this show. 

OK.  I take it back.  She’s a Myspace dork.  She actually said “I learned HTML through Myspace.” Douche confessionaled that she was putting him to sleep.  Now, at this point I’m still in her corner, until she said, and I quote “like, there’s so many thing going on in the world, and a lot of them I’ve learned about through Myspace, like...”

OH MY FUCKING SWEET FUCK.  Myspace taught you about the world?  Die. In. A. Fire.  and please, for the fucking love of Tom and all that is MySpacey, NEVER VOTE.  Just...buy more clothes or a little yappy dog or something.

Learned about the world through MySpace?  Fuck.  I had such high hopes for this one.

AND I’M BREAKING.  Part 2 will come tomorrow.

Posted by JimK at 12:01 AM on January 17, 2008
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Categories: Television,  Rock Of Love,  Rock Of Love 2
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