Rock Of Love Week 5 - First Annual Bret’s Mudbowl, or “Look at me!  I’m also sports douchebag!”

First of all I apologize for not posting the Brandi C. porn stuff.  Trying to find a reliable place to host a 700+MB file ain’t easy.  Gimme some time.  Nevermind.  Just as I was about to publish this post the upload finished.  765MB, Windows Media.  Brandi C. in another porn flick. (NSFW, obviously!)

So, like...more whore drama then.  Away we go!

The glossary for the whores still here on this goatfuck of a show:

Bret Michaels: Douchey, Douchebag, and all form of the word “Douche.”
Heather: Stripper Showmytits.
Mia: Meadow Soprano.
Lacey: Red Sonja
Jes: Punky Brewster.
Sam: Alternachick.
Brandi M.: Sturgess.  Also a porn queen if you like that sort of in-bred, white trash biker queen look. (NSFW)
Erin: Heartland Hooters.
Magdelena: Chick With A Penis.  Variations on that theme, like DickGirl or Ms. Cock&Balls.

- Recap shows Punky Brewster saying she needs a date with Bret, so yeah, that’ll happen obviously, since this is almost as scripted a reality show as “The Two Coreys.” We get a recap of the old Erin/Heather drama, and a reminder that Red Sonja is a class A, USDA Prime cunt with extra fish sauce.

- Open with footage picking up right after eliminations, and Sturgess says she partied maybe a little too much.  And that would be different from all the other days that end with a “Y” how?  Lo and behold she pissed off all the other girls.  Big frigging deal.

- “I heard I had a good time at the party last night.” And here we see why Sturgess isn’t really made of carbon, but of regret, herpes, 73 different “date rape” episodes and unchecked alcoholism.  Darwin would be proud.  She’s clearly a new life form.

- The challenge for today is football.  Guess how bad the poem was?  If cancer is terrible, and sex with Rosie O’Donnell is even worse, this poem was like having sex with Rosie O’Donnell if she was made entirely of cancer.  And you could catch it from her.

- Stripper ShowMyTits says she’s a tomboy and football is right up her alley.  You could probably fit a football team up her alley, so that’s no surprise.  Christ she looks awful in the morning.  Like a MINEWTFNEWMP (Mom I Never Ever Want To Fuck, Not Even With Magdalena’s Penis) instead of a MILF. 

- Teams: The Sweethearts: #36 - Brandi M.  #45 - Jes.  #22 - Magdalena.  #48 - Mia.  The Fallen Angels: #70 - Heather.  #68 - Lacey.  #25 - Erin.  #55 - Sam.

- Douchebag had braids in his wigstension.  Wow.

- I gotta say, Magdalena probably doesn’t know shit about American football, but she is significantly bigger that the other girls, and if she can pick up the rules - and avoid getting hit in her balls - then she’ll destroy someone.

- Winning team gets a four-way date, MVP gets a special one-on-one session with Bret Michaels, King of the Douchebags.  They already showed us footage of the date so, like, big shock the Sweethearts win.

- Punky Brewster (said with emphasis) - “I’m gonna fuck some bitches up.” One can only hope that she means it.  I would love to see her clothesline Red Sonja in the throat.

- Heartland Hooters: “As long as my face doesn’t get fucked up.” Too late, sweetie.  You ain’t that facially attractive to start with.

- Chick With A Penis gets the “kickoff” and runs the wrong way.  Alternachick: “I attempted a tackle, but ended up giving Magedalena a really big hug.” That’s because she’s a fullback and could smash through the defensive line of the 1974 Pittsburgh Steelers.  BECAUSE SHE HAS A COCK AND BALLS AND IS A MAN.  Douchebag is quarterbacking both sides. 

- Punky Brewster scores.  Fallen Angels fumble the “kickoff” - Bret just throws it, BTW.  The Not As Much Whores recover. Punky runs it and Red Sonja plants her with a pretty severe tackle, and it;s game on.  Jes now wants to destroy Lacey, and I’m all for it. 

- Fallen Angels get another posession and Lacey gets it.  Jes wraps around her like an anaconda and spin-throws her to the ground...Lacey’s down!  Lacey’s down!  She looks hurt.  It looks like she might have sprained or even broken her ankle?  Yes!  Instant Karma’s gonna get you, ya big whorey bitch.  Commercial

- Back, replay of the Lacey injury and Alternachick in a confessional vid: “Jes comes around and nails her, and she’s out. (devil horns) Yes! Oh wait but she’s still on my team. (laughs) Whatever, who cares.  Fuck her!” For the reals, sister...speak it!  Lacey’s out...Sweethearts have to bench someone and they choose Sturgess because she’s so hung over.

- Jes is blocking passes, tackling bitches...she scores again...yeah, I see where this is going, and I believe I predicted something like this in the intro…

- Douche-bret: “Heather hits like a bull.” That’s because she is a bull, dummy.  I think she might have a cock tucked away in there too.  He’s of course turned on by her/it.  Uglier the whore, the more Douchey likes her.  It’s an inverse algorithm of hotness.  The hotter a chick, the less Bret Michaels will be attracted to her.  The trashier and, let’s face it, trailer-park, manly and worn out a whore is, the more he wants to park his double-wide in her lot.  Magdalena doesn’t get his attention because she’s a pretty tranny.  He only likes the ugly ones.  If life were like “Too Wong Foo,” Bret would want to fuck Wesley Snipes, not John Leguizamo.  If it were “Priscilla,” Bret would try to stick it in Hugo Weaving and not Terence Stamp, who, admit it, was pretty hot for an old queen.  What I’m saying is Bret has bad taste.  Really bad taste.

- StripperShowMyTits is stepping up the violence.  She gets the ball.  Punky tears her pants clean off.  Meadow Soprano makes StripperBarmaid fumble.  Unbelievably, StripperShowMyTits pulls off an actual play and falls on the ball in the end zone.

- Douchebag: “Heather can’t keep her clothes on in any even that we do.” And we all kind of wish she would keep them on.  It’s never the ones you want to get naked that actually get naked, you know what I’m sayin’?

- Game is tied.  Stripper vs Punky for MVP.  Whoever makes the big play will get to fuck date the douchebag one-on-one.  The tension!  Big pass to Jes, who catches it for the win.  Sweethearts win, 3 to 2.  That’s right, they didn’t bother with actual football scoring.  They scored it like baseball.  Whatever, you think these bitches would get a two-point conversion or the concept of a field goal?  This was easier.  Punky gets the MVP date.

- The ladies are hurting as they get home.  Sturgess: “We’re a buncha broken bitches.” In more ways than one, buttaface/body/personality.

- Lacey is torqued because she lost.  She’s also wearing a “No animal testing” shirt.  Animal testing keeps Bret Michaels alive.  Does she really think she’s going to be the one he choo-choo-chooses?  She re-affirms that she’s planning to try to “knock these other girls out of here.”

- Aww, Punky is nervous.  How cute.

- Thatnks to Donna’s eagle eye, I present to you Douchebag McFuckstick’s biggest example of douchebaggery to date: the poorly-done portrait of himself placed outside the BMB (Bret Michaels Bedroom):

It;s bad enough that there is a giant BMB on the door.  That’s like, douchebag level 6.  But to prop up the really shitty painting of what looks like Kid Rock in your hat outside your BMB?  That’s like level 18, maybe even Secret Gold Level douchebaggery.  EXTREME DOUCHEBAG CLOSEUP!

I am only sorry I do not yet have a high-def television so as to bring you the subtle nuances of douche contained in this master work.  Moving on.

- I guess this is a thing or something.  Maybe it’s because I’m not a woman, I didn’t get why this was a problem, but here’s the setup:  Erin calls her job, apparently a club called “Underground.” Her boss tells her that Justin Timberlake is supposed to come in the next night and Erin’s all sad because she won’t be there.  Lacey overhears this and runs to Stripper Barmaid Trailer Whore to plot against Erin over this.  OK.  Sure.  Whatever.  Lacey turns that into “Erin would rather be with Justin Timberlake than Bret.” OK.  That’s fucking stupid, but again, I do not produce blood from my vagina once a month, so I’m not supposed to understand the inner mysteries of being a trashy cunt.

Heather decides to write Douchefuck a letter “exposing” all the other girls, and you just know this is going in the letter.  Once again, not to harp on this point, but what the fuck?  Why is this an issue?  Heartland Hooters casually mentioned “Aww, Timberlake is gonna be there and I’m gonna miss it” and now this means she hates Bret Michaels?  Commercial.

- Back from commercial, and I cannot believe that this is BARELY THE HALFWAY POINT.

- Punky and Douchebag’s date, and as Jes walks up to this place called “The Joint” that painting is here too.  WTF?  STOP IT.  It’s horrible.  The setup is so fucking cheesy.  It’s so “Look at me, I’m a rock star.” Small intimate table, but you can see the stage just beyond, and you fucking know Douchebag is going to try to wow her with his rock star relevancy again.  Sure enough he strolls on stage.  He just can’t turn it off, like, ever.  BE A REGULAR HUMAN BEING ONCE IN A WHILE, DOUCHEBAG.  It won’t hurt, I promise.  Jes looks like she’s trying not to react to a fart.  It’s just such a dick move and I really really think that she thinks so too.

Bret wrote a song for the date.  Now, remember, he didn’t know who in the blue fuck was going to be actually on this date.  He starts it off by saying that he’s “been waitin’ so long for this date.” But he was waiting for the event, NOT the girl.  He didn’t want to get to be with any particular girl, he just couldn’t wait to be on a stage, set above one of the girls, playin’ star again.  Here he goes.  Turn the page.  (20 points to whoever gets that one)

I have said it before and I’ll say it a million more times before this is over; Bret Michaels is a douchebag.

- He starts to play and...umm...the guitar melody is literally one note different from “Every Rose.” Without CC, Bret is completely clueless how to write music.  He’s plagiarizing his own back catalog.  The song is pretty weak.  It plays under a montage of Bret essentially lecturing her about him.  We don’t get to hear her talk much, although there is some footage of her talking while the studio version of the terrible fucking song comes up loud.  Date over with Punky saying that they have a connection now.  RUN, PUNKY, RUN!  Get away before the douchitude rubs off on you!

- Next day...Douchebag gets Heather’s letter and he’s NOT thrilled with it.  Let me tell you why, regardless of what Douche says on TV: If Heather would do this now, to the girls in the house...she will tell Bret’s secrets, and you don’t tell secrets on a rock star.  if you can’t keep your mouth shut, you can’t be trusted and if you can’t be trusted, all you are good for is as a receptacle for jism.  Which in Stripper ShowMyTits’ case is 100% accurate.

Oh my.  I’m so fucking wrong.  This moron actually believes everything Heather said.  Oh well.  I was giving the stupid fuck too much credit as a real live human, I suppose.  I forgot that he couldn’t care less about anyone but him, and if this skanky lying whore caters to his ego, then she’s his choice and decency, truth and simple human understanding be damned!  Damn the douche-pedoes!  Full douche ahead!

- Poem time.  The ladies are going to a gun range.  Meanwhile Lacey and Heather are trying to weasel info out of Erin for use against her, and Douchebag is ranting about Erin in the limo on the way to his date.

“Turns out that I was about to be a notch on Erin’s bedpost. I’m the notcher!  I make the notches, not Erin!” What a selfish, unabashed douchebag.  Not really a surprise for a rock star, really, but damn...he’s letting this all out on TV.

- Bret can actually shoot a little and loves to go to the range.  He’s still a douchebag though, gun-lover or not.  In fact I’d almost rather that he hate and fear guns.  Somehow knowing that Bret Michaels, King Of The Douchebags, likes guns lessens the reputation of gun owners everywhere.  I’d sooner be associated with David fucking Berkowitz.  Still, one more thing that is likely to keep Lacey from getting picked, so that’s good.

- Meadow sucks at shooting, Sturgess is awful but Chick With A Penis is like, a crack shot.  Insanely good.  If I had to try to ID the gun, BTW, it looked like a .357, but there was so little kick.  I bet they were firing light .38 rounds out of it.

- Lunch inside the lodge.  Dead stuffed animals EVERYWHERE.  Douchebag asks the ladies if StripperShowMyTits is trustworthy.  Maybe he’s finally getting the message that Heather may not be the person telling him the truth.  Sturgess mentions that she fucked vanilla Ice on The Surreal Life...Douchebag gets a look on his face like someone just told him that Poison was going to tour without him this summer.  He’s now all fired up against Heather.  In other words, Bret bends like a reed in the wind.  Or the applicator tip of a douche bottle.  The nozzle, if you will.  Bret Michaels is, in addition to being a douchebag, a douche nozzle.  Commercial.

- We’re back.  The Cunty Twins are plotting against Erin, and Heartland Hooters can hear the whole thing.  Good lord these bitches are dumb.

- The chicks that were on the date are grilling StripperShowMyTits about what is in the letter. OH MY GOD they’re treating this like it’s trying to map the human genome or something!  What the fuck do you think a stupid whore like her wrote?  That you are all stupider and whorier.  “Whorier” is not a word, but it is now.  Heather tries to play it off like the letter was only about her.  Lying whore.

- Cut to Douchebag playing a douchey song in his Fortress of Douchitude.  Goddammit, all of this is making me never want to be a Poison fan anymore.  Knock on the door...and here comes Red Sonja trying to back Heather’s play.  Bret spills what he knows, and whammo!  Lacey turns on her “friend” Heather faster than Heather could say “Please refill my Valtrex prescription.”

- Jesus...this letter never fucking ends.  Sturgess decides to tell Heartland about the letter.  Heartland goes looking for Stripper.  They “chat” about it.  THIS IS SO FUCKING STUPID AND I AM SORRY I AM TELLING YOU ABOUT IT.  I apologize.  I wish that I was writing lengthy essays about the nature of humanity and how we can all come together as a peoples, or maybe about how love can overcome adversity, or hell, even a story about the time I stuck my arm in a horse’s vagina (true story) would be more upscale than this shit.  WHAT THE FUCK!  This show makes me miss American Idol.  They argue for a couple minutes.

- Erin heads toward the Fortress of Douchitude to set the record straight.  Lacey is still inside.  He keeps Heartland at the door and his confessional cutaway says that Stripper and Heartland are both about to be elminiated.  GOOD.  Get them both the fuck out, then do something else next week.  Foxy boxing, anyone?  Let Jes break Lacey’s face next week.  Commercial.

- Elimination time, and all the bitches bitch about each other.  Straight to the cuts.  Douchebag is in a bad mood.  One is going home.

- Jes stays.  Mia stays.  Brandi M. stays.  Unfortunately Lacey stays.  Magdalena stays.  Sam stays.  Erin and Heather left.  Stripper ShowMyTits is all upset that she’s last with Erin.  Douchebag slows it down and calls Heather out a little, but ultimately picks her.  Erin is out.  Good lord he’s a stupid, easily led idiot.

Douchebag: “If you’re lyin’ to me Heather, I’m gonna find out.  Count on it.” No you won’t.  You’re too stupid.  Heartland Hooters: “And really, I have had bigger and better stars than Bret Michaels.” I do not doubt that at all, you airbag-carrying whorebucket.

Clips from next week include Sam saying she has to bail...toldja! 

This show makes me sad.  Mainly for myself.  This week was particularly idiotic...I feel dumber for having watched it.  At least I have SOME standards...we watched two leaked episodes of ‘The Two Coreys” and we refuse to watch another fucking instant of that horrible program.

See you next week for more outrageous whores...more sickening stupidity and More King Douchebag!

Posted by JimK at 08:46 PM on August 12, 2007
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Categories: Television,  Rock Of Love
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