There are some television depths to which even I will not sink.

"My lips of death are coming for you..."

So, we've established that I have somewhat trashy tastes when it comes to television. Even now, I sit here watching the Rock of Love Reunion in which the constestant who may or may not be a transsexual just punched out the contestant who collapsed in a drunk, crying heap on a speed bump and stayed there, drunk and crying, for an hour. Classy!

But I will not, WILL NOT, be watching the upcoming Daisy of Love, starring the runner up from the second season of Rock of Love. There will be drunken antics, there will be wackiness, there will be hijinks aplenty, but I will not see any of them. Every time see a commercial for this trainwreck, I'm afraid her collegen lips are going to come through the screen and smother me. It's terrifying. Also, I'm frightened watching the show could cause viewers to contract some sort of hideous disease. It's not worth your health, people.

It's back, people. And this time, it’s mobile.

I can tell you this: the skank factor has increased exponentially, something I didn’t even realize was possible. Yes, that’s right. Brett Michaels has returned for a third time, lookin’ for love among the strippers and strumpets of this great land. This season, Brett and his “ladies” will be traveling on a tour bus instead of staying in the tacky LA house that hosted the first two seasons. He has declared that if he doesn’t find love this time, he won’t be trying again. Oh Brett, please, if you don’t periodically subject yourself and twenty other fame-seekers to melodramatic humiliation, where will I get my guilty pleasure TV? I was planning on watching Rock of Love: Nursing Home Edition in thirty years.

Let’s get right to it. Brett greets his twenty potential soul mates and he is delighted to be standing before “this much beauty.” Brett and I differ on the definition of the word beauty. My definition includes neither collagen nor silicone.

Also returning? My favorite, Big John! He’s Brett’s true rock, as he keeps Brett sane, gets him to his shows on time, and breaks up any trampy catfights that happen to arise. I hope he’s well paid. Big John has lost some weight, cut his hair, and he’s looking downright adorable. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t know why these girls don’t ditch Brett and start going after him. Oh, maybe this is why:

“I’m a little bit not too smart, but it’s okay.” –Brittanya, Rock of Love Bus contestant

A little sampling of Brittanya’s competitors:
Contestant #1: Adult film star.
Contestant #3: Imagine Daisy of season 2, but three times more terrifying, and rapping (badly) with notes written on the back of STD pamphlets. Yeah, you read that correctly.
Contestant # 4: Transsexual, perhaps?
Contestant # 6: Certified lion tamer.
Contestant # 7: A new-age belly dancer from the foothills of the Appalachian mountains with a Master’s Degree in Storytelling. I love VH-1!

And now, for the interview portion of the evening.

A woman named Samantha steps up and mentions that she gets terribly carsick in all types of moving vehicles. Well, that shouldn’t pose a problem for a show taking place entirely on a tour bus. On second thought, I imagine there will be so much vomiting going on, she’ll fit right in.

Next, the porn star takes a moment to decry our nation’s non-acceptance of pornography, spouting, “America’s pretty messed up that way.” Well, I certainly feel chastened. How about you?

Finally, a terrifying woman, shellacked in make-up, steps up to the camera and Brett declares that she’s, “beautiful in a Juliette Lewis kind of way.”


Umm, what way would that be, Brett?

I will tell you this, she speaks just like Kip from Napoleon Dynamite, but that might just be the collagen talking.


I bet she wouldn’t bring you your chapstick either.

In the end, Brett dumps five of the girls, including terrifying Daisy 2.0, but he keeps the porn star, so she’ll be back to lecture us again next week. I’m just praying Heather makes a guest appearance.

But the real question is, will Heather be back?

VH-1 has announced that there will be a Rock of Love 3. Apparently things didn't work out with Ambre. What a shame. And by "what a shame" I mean, "oh this is so awesome I will finally get to see another season of this wretchedly fabulous show that I love so much oh I'm so wickedly delighted by this sad turn of events in Bret's love life somebody get me some pom poms." And all of this just forces me to admit that I now pray for Bret Michaels' relationships to go horribly wrong so that he will have no choice but to come crawling back to VH-1 and provide me with the appallingly low-brow humor I crave.

I know. It is so shameful. Please, look away.

Farewell, my sweet, wretched show!

This week, we bid goodbye to the second season of Rock of Love with the Reunion Show. It was pretty standard stuff, except for the moment when 72-pound Daisy ludicrously got up into the face of Heather, a woman built like a tree trunk. Daisy barely got out two insults before Heather swatted her like a fly, sending Daisy reeling backward, but only until Heather got a fistful of Daisy’s cheap extensions and started pummeling her in the most spectacular fashion. Curse Bret Michaels’ cat-like reflexes in pulling them apart!

Bret seems ready to make a go of it with Ambre, so there are no plans currently in the works for a third season, much to my dismay. I wonder if Vince Neil is available.

In the end, I suppose it's easier to aquire some hair dye than a brain.

Tonight was the glorious finale of Rock of Love 2. I will be sad to see it go, but in its absence I can already feel my IQ climbing. Bret took the two finalists, Daisy (she of the doggy-chew-toy face) and Ambre (she of the unfortunate skunk hair) to Cancun, Mexico. When they arrived at their hotel, a troupe of dancers in Mayan dress performed a traditional Mayan dance for them. Through the feathers, you could just see the dancers thinking, “I can’t believe I have to perform my cultural traditions for these skanks.” Bienvenida a Mexico, ladies.

Bret took Ambre on a date that was a much more awesome version of that room in the Baltimore aquarium that recreates the rainforest. Also, there were massages, which the Baltimore aquarium does not have, and I feel the facility is the poorer for it. A bunch of crap happened, but the upshot is that Ambre did her own impression of what I hear is a very famous scene from Basic Instinct, which I have never seen, not that I’m pretending to have any sort of taste here, because let’s face it, I watch Rock of Love. Anyway, I was mortified. As mortified as a Rock of Love viewer has the right to be.

For Daisy’s date, Bret took her on a yacht. They stood on the bow and put their arms out and enjoyed the breeze. It was like Titanic, but with more collagen and hair plugs. Bret declared that he wanted to find out what was in Daisy’s noggin (empty), her heart (also empty), and her soul. When I think of her soul I imagine a tar-like soup in which a few trapped gnats gasp for breath. But Bret had no time to discover this because Daisy started to feel really seasick. It was hilarious. Bret went to tell the captain they needed to head back to shore. Meanwhile Daisy was totally miserable and hurling off the side of the yacht. It was so fabulous!

The next day, as the girls waited for the final elimination, apparently the pressure was all too much for Daisy and she headed out to the balcony to have a breakdown. There was more crying and much more hairline touching. She gave us a bunch of rubbish about being in love, blah, blah, flippety fling blang blah. It’s such a blessing that this season is almost over because I am so weary of correcting Daisy’s grammar. So weary. The way she massacres subject-verb agreement just exhausts me.

There was a lot more drama, but in the end Bret chose Ambre, and Daisy was sent away in a flurry of tears and shame and running mascara. Ambre was delighted, which, sure, whatever. And here’s where I start to hope that this whole relationship goes in the crapper so I can enjoy a Rock of Love season 3.

But it’s not over yet! We still have the reunion show, and from the previews it appears that Daisy and Heather have to be pulled off each other because they’re fighting like Joan Collins and Linda Evans circa 1984. And Big John is just sitting back and enjoying it all. You go, Big J.

Sorry about your dad’s cancer. Now get out.

Amanda and Gena told me it would be a good one, and they were right. Tonight’s episode of Rock of Love whittled us down from three women to the final two. But before that happened, we got to meet the girls’ families. Correction: we got to meet Ambre and Destiney’s families, and we got to meet Daisy’s ex-boyfriend’s sister because apparently her family doesn’t speak to her. What? They couldn’t get, like, an aunt or cousin up in here? When your closest “relative” is your ex’s sister, it’s maybe time to take stock of your life and figure out where it all went wrong. My guess would be sometime around the hair extensions.

Anyway, Daisy is sitting there all sad and glum while Ambre and Destiney greet their parents, and wondering who, if anyone, will come for her on Family Day. It was pretty depressing and I started to feel really sorry for her. Until she opened her duck lips and spoke and then I remembered that if I were in her family I wouldn’t talk to her either. Then I decided to spend all my sympathy on Destiney, whose father has terminal liver cancer.

The girls each get a solo date with Bret. On the first date, Bret grills Daisy some more about her fishy relationship with her “ex” Charles. Daisy’s response? “My life isn’t black and white. It’s color.” Bret’s response that that? “Thank you for the education, there, Kodachrome, but what the hell are you talking about?” Exactly, Bret. Exactly. Daisy then declared her love for Bret. Meanwhile Charles’ sister is staring at her all, “You are the property of my brother. Especially your silicone parts.”

On the second date, Bret took Destiney and her parents to the tattoo parlor so Destiney could get a tattoo of the Rock of Love logo on her neck. Apparently she thought this was cool because Heather did it, and can I just say, I think Destiney has more of crush on Heather than on Bret. During the inking, Bret revealed that tattoo pain turns him on. And really, what doesn’t? Collagen! Strippers! Brussel sprouts! Total turn-on!

On the third date, Ambre found herself in hot water when it was revealed that she is 37 years old, and not 32 as she had been telling Bret. I think Bret should have been in hot water for not having the intelligence to tell that that’s not what a 32 year-old looks like, but perhaps I’m just sensitive because I’ll be approaching that age in the not too distant future. Anyway, Bret is shocked, SHOCKED, that Ambre would lie to him about her age. Oh no, Bret! Women lie about their age! This just in: Daisy’s lips aren’t real either!

Oh, and P.S. Between “Scott Baio Is 45 and Single” and the Celebrity Fit Club previews in which Erin Moran is getting drunk and behaving like a stripper, so much so that even Tina Yothers is disgusted, I think it’s pretty clear that VH-1 has ruined Happy Days for all of us.

Before eliminations, the girls have a little chat in which Ambre and Daisy call Destiney on not being attached enough to Bret. Daisy asks Destiney if she would still be on the show if it was Jon Bon Jovi or John Stamos they were dating, and she does so in a tone of voice that implies that she thinks either of those men is LESS of a catch than Bret Michaels. Can collagen seep into your brain?

During eliminations Bret tells each of the ladies what he admires about them. The only thing of note was when he described Daisy as creative. Creative? In what areas? Collagen injection? Hair extensions? Perhaps Daisy could have her own show on the DIY network. Tramping it up! with Daisy de la Hoya. "On this week’s episode: Breast implants and you. The choice to go with silicone or saline. Our hostess has two of each, just for good measure!"

In the end, it was Destiney who had to go, because she wasn’t prepared to say she was in love after spending two weeks with Bret and 20 other girls, most of whom were strippers. This has to be the most respect I had for her all season.

Next week: Mexico! Bret takes Daisy out on a yacht (because apparently the people who developed the show felt the need to copy season 1 point by point) and she gets seasick and vomits off the side. I suppose it only makes sense that Daisy’s date is on a boat. She’s a human flotation device.

What happens in Vegas... usually ends up humiliating you if it's broadcast on national television.

So, on this week’s fabulously trashy episode of Rock of Love, the final four went to Vegas where Heather brilliantly manipulated them into turning on Daisy. There was screaming and crying and throwing of drinks. Heather rules! Brett even had to call in Big John to calm things down. Speaking of which, I don’t know why these girls don’t go after Big John. He seems like a much better catch.

Also, this just in: Daisy appears to be working her way through former members of Poison. She has admitted to "befriending" C.C. DeVille in the past. Befriending? I can spot a euphemism at 20 paces! If I knew the names of any other members of Poison, you can be sure I'd be implying all sorts of profligate and shocking behavior with them.

In the end, Brett booted the sweet but terribly boring Jessica, and I can’t help but wonder if the show’s producers told him to do that, just like I imagine they forced him to keep Lacey for so long in season one. Sure, Daisy is a vile, manipulative liar, but she has to make it to the finale because she makes for good trashy TV. Jessica is the TV equivalent of Sudafed, which puts me to sleep even if the box says “non-drowsy” because it’s never, ever really non-drowsy.

And speaking of Daisy, I remarked to Amanda how much I love it that when Daisy cries (which is All. The. Time.), she can't touch her face because there's so much plastic, collagen, and spackle on it, it's in danger of melting into a pile of sparkly goo. So she just puts her hands up around her hairline as if she desperately wants to wipe her eyes but she can’t because she’s got to constantly remind herself that she can’t touch her face, so she’s forced to let her hands dangle up in the air like a monkey. She's such a terrifying disaster. I love it!

In sadder news, the marvelous Heather took her leave in this episode, ending my dreams of her staying on till the end. Bon voyage, fabulous tranny queen. I hope to see you in season three.

Next week: the obligatory parents episode, where we get to see who or what spawned Daisy. I can’t hope for something as spectacular as last year, when Heather went into great detail listing the ways in which Lacey resembled a prostitute right in front of Lacey’s horrible, horrible father! But I am hoping for Destiney to just haul off and smack a few liters of collagen out of Daisy’s face. She’s the most expendable of the final three, so she might as well go out in style.

The Fabulous Return of the Fantastic Tranny Sparkler

Amanda came home for Easter to surprise her family, so of course we made plans to get together and watch the latest trashy episode of Rock of Love. Our plan to feast on Scott’s By Dam tacos was thwarted by Scott’s being closed for Easter, but we enjoyed hot sausage sandwiches and Polish pizza from Pizza Deli instead.

In this gem of an episode, Bret invited the remaining ladies’ ex-boyfriends/ex-husbands on the show to dig up the real dirt on the girls. I heard about this premise a couple of weeks ago and was praying that Kristy Joe lasted until this week. I’m dying to meet the man who wasn’t certain if they were going through with the divorce, despite the fact that she took out a restraining order against him and the fact that she, you know, went on a reality TV show, the object of which is to fall in love with an aging former rock star. Alas, it was not to be and KJ went home last week, but there was still plenty of fun to be had, most of which came from the long-awaited return of the hideously fabulous Heather!

Oh guys, I can’t believe how much I missed Heather. I couldn’t stand her or her tranny** hair during season 1, but now she’s like a skanky breath of fresh air. With huge tranny hair. It just shows how much this show has gone downhill since the glory days of season 1. These season 2 girls can’t hack it. They can’t hold a candle to Heather. She walks on screen and suddenly all the season 2 girls seem dull and gray. They are ashes and Heather is a big, bright, booze-guzzling sparkler! I adore her!

**This is not tranny in the Christian Siriano sense; i.e. “hot tranny mess.” This is tranny in the sense of actual tranny. To paraphrase the philosopher Steven Tyler, Lady sometimes looks like a dude.

Heather wasted no time digging up all the dirt she could get on these girls. And like utter fools, they told her everything. Everything! Did these half-wits not watch season 1? Amanda and I nearly choked on our Polish pizza when Daisy revealed she still lives with her boyfriend. In a one-bedroom apartment! Then, hilariously, she tried to cry, but the Botox wouldn’t let her move her face, and the collagen made her trembling lips look like two of those water noodles that we float on in Aunt Linda’s pool. It was fantastic.

Also, Bret took the exes to Dave and Buster’s. Skee-ball! Tickets! That, coupled with his Steelers love, makes me think he and I could maybe be friends. Then I remember how much eyeliner he wears, and that thought gets blown out of the Monongahela.

In the end, dumb bimbo Megan got the boot, and it was pretty hilarious. She just stood there like a petulant child, shaking her head, while everyone wondered how many times and ways Bret was going to have to explain to her to get out of the house. I seriously thought he was going to have to have Heather drag Megan out by her hair. Now that would have been classic.

Then Bret announced the best news of all: the group would be leaving, post-haste, for Vegas and THEY’RE TAKING HEATHER WITH THEM! Oh, joy! Rapture! Please let her stay forever!

Next week: Heather, like a fabulous, manipulative cruise director, manages to have all the girls turn on Daisy. There will be screaming. There will be crying. There will be drinks thrown. There may even be some face slapping. I. Cannot. Wait.

I love this horrible trashy show oh help me I love it so much someone bring me some vodka!

Merry Me!

Okay, so it’s season 2 of Rock of Love, and I had been really excited for this because I loved the first season. The thing about the first season was that the show was so much fun, I wasn’t embarrassed to admit I watched it, despite the utterly ridiculous nature of the spectacle. The long-awaited season 2 had a promising start. As Amanda described it after the first episode:

“It's pure trash and I'm loving it. The women this season are even more ridiculous than last season… And the hair. There are at least 2 women that look like trannies!”

Trashy! Big hair! Trannies! So much fun, right? But now season 2 is just making me sad. I’m sad that the women are so stupid. I’m sad that Bret is so stupid. He either got more moronic in the last year, or his imbecility somehow escaped me during the first season. And the thing is, you really need to be able to root for him in order to enjoy the show. But this year it’s just like watching a bunch of pinballs of stupidity bouncing off of each other. And the stupidity makes me sad.

Sadness is watching three girls holding up the card they made for Bret, reading “Merry me!,” and then hearing them remark to each other, “We’re such a wonderful trio. Of brains.”

Oh dear.

I’m not going to stop watching the show yet, but I am back to being embarrassed about it.

Oh, I’m sorry; did I wander onto the set of the Jerry Springer show?

The weekend before last Amanda’s sister got married and Amanda came home to be in the wedding. The wedding was a really lovely affair, despite the fact that the hardwood floor, when wet, became very slippery and I fell. Twice. It was like karma biting me in the butt, since I fell right in front of Chris and if you know me at all, you know one of my chief entertainments in life has been to laugh hysterically when Chris trips, shrieks like a little girl, and hits the ground while his shoes fly in two different directions. However, I was not the only one to fall at the wedding. Chris himself fell twice, one other reveler spent more time on the floor than on his feet (though that had more to do with the beer in his system than the beer on the floor), and at the end of the night you could watch the dance floor and see a person drop out of sight approximately every nine seconds. Good times.

The next evening Amanda came over to watch the long-awaited Rock of Love reunion show. I eagerly anticipated all sorts of cat fighting and hair pulling, but I was bitterly disappointed by a shocking lack of such antics. Even Heather and Lacey were polite and conciliatory toward each other. Heather even apologized for calling Lacey a prostitute in front of her parents. How boring. Boo! But, it is a truth universally acknowledged that whenever one would-be shockfest lets you down, another springs up from out of nowhere to take its place.

The facts are these: For the past two months Amanda has been dating this guy, David, and she’s been really happy about her relationship. They got along really well, he was very kind and considerate, and she was even thinking about asking him to come home to PA to spend New Year’s with her. When she flew back to Houston after the wedding weekend, David picked her up from the airport. She thought he was behaving a bit strangely, but she was exhausted from her trip and put it out of her mind. The next day things seemed normal. She and David were back to texting each other throughout the day and they’d made plans to get dinner and see a movie that Friday. All day and evening on Thursday he was MIA. She heard nothing from him on Friday, and he stood her up for their date. On Saturday she went to dinner with her girlfriends, where “trashing David” was the most popular item on the menu, but on Sunday when she still hadn’t heard anything from him, she decided to take action. She got onto his MySpace page and emailed the young lady who was at the top of his friends list. She told the girl (who I’ll call Doris, since I didn’t ask Amanda what her name was) that she was a friend of David’s and asked if she knew if he was okay. Doris wrote back immediately saying David was at the gym and asking Amanda how she knew him. When Amanda wrote back that she had been seeing David for two months, Doris wrote back to say they needed to talk.

For the next two hours Amanda and Doris talked on the phone, comparing schedules and trading stories about David that sounded remarkably similar. He’d been dating Doris since May, living with her since July, and lying like a pathological lying liar since the day he emerged from his mother’s womb. When he got back from the gym Doris asked, “David, who’s Amanda?” David claimed he didn’t know anyone named Amanda. From the speakerphone Amanda shouted, “You have GOT to be kidding me!” He proceeded to deny everything, claiming that his ex-wife put somebody up to this. And the saddest, most pathetic part? Despite enough proof to convict OJ, Doris still wasn’t sure who to believe. Oh, Doris, Doris, Doris. Please, love yourself more than that.

After all these shenanigans, Amanda went to the gym and did some boxing. Hopefully Doris learned that she’s better off alone than badly accompanied. And ladies, I advise you to steer clear of all men named David in the greater Houston area, just to be safe.

And that's why you don't tattoo a guy's name on the back of your neck.

You know, when I told my sisters that I watch Rock of Love, they looked at me with disbelief and pity. Melis recovered her voice enough to spout, “You watch that?” She was clearly appalled. But you know what? Now that my not-so-secret shame has come to an end, I regret nothing. Where else can you see the awesome pink-haired girl walk away with it all, while the nasty I’d-rather-let-the-man-I-“love”-go-into-insulin-shock-than-cut-short-my-dunebuggy-ride stripper takes off in a trail of hairspray and profanity, wondering how she can get this ill-concieved tattoo removed? Sure the show was trashy, but we all need a little trashy in our lives.

Also, I’m not entirely convinced Heather wasn’t a bit of tranny.

Ding dong, the witch... well, you get the idea.

At last, our long national nightmare is over. Lacey has finally been ejected from the Rock of Love house, unfortunately without the Prozac-fueled meltdown I so eagerly awaited. That was a shame. I have decided to comfort myself by imagining her limo ride home, complete with screaming, tears, vodka, and unintelligible blather.

And wow, I didn't think I'd ever find someone so immediately unlikable as Lacey, but her father filled that role with no effort at all. Assuming that pompous jackassitude requires no effort. At least we now have unassailable proof that mental illness is hereditary.

Kinda makes you wonder about the circumstances under which he wrote Every Rose Has Its Thorn...

Well, this week’s Rock of Love did not disappoint. I waited with evil glee all week to see Lacey get totally smashed and fall off the bar as she crawled across it (like a “cracked out cat” as Jes put it) in the most embarrassing display of public drunkenness since Courtney Love threw her compact at Madonna at the VMAs and then tumbled head over heels off the interview stool after revealing a past romantic liaison with Ted Nugent. And just when I got over cackling with delight at the sight of Big John carrying Lacey’s trashy, vomit-plastered self out of the room, I was rewarded with the hilarious prospect of a drunken Brandi vomiting through her napkin while Heather gobbled down oysters as though they contained a secret ingredient that would grant her immunity in the next elimination round. I don’t care what anyone says, this show is hysterically funny.

However, the best moment of the night was reserved for Bret’s heartfelt confession that Brandi said one of the most touching things he’s ever heard, just after he pulled her vomit-covered head out of the toilet. It was slurred and laden with profanity, but apparently it was touching. Why is this not part of NBC’s Thursday night comedy line-up?

Next week, the Heather-Lacey alliance finally explodes in a most spectacular fashion (whee!), and right in front of Lacey’s dad. I can hardly wait!

I’ll bet they used animals to test Prozac

Okay, so I’m hooked on the show Rock of Love. It’s so embarrassing that I have to just come right out and say it quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. I blame Amanda. It all goes back to the time she was visiting from Texas and we stayed up till 2 AM eating pancakes and watching a Flavor of Love marathon in which Flava Flav somehow (and I still don’t know how) restrained himself from taking that giant clock necklace and smacking New York across her smug face. Needless to say, I was rooting for Deelishis. Now that show was hilarious, particularly when New York’s certifiably crazy mother tried to lure her daughter from the Flav house by pretending to have a terminal illness. Sadly, the ruse failed about 17 seconds in because Mama York didn’t think far enough ahead to come up with a name for her fake disease. I mean, syphilis would have been the obvious choice as it would also account for the insanity.

Anyway, all this is to say that the show was great fun in a “I really shouldn’t admit I watched this to anyone” way and Amanda got me hooked. So, when I saw that VH1 was doing a similar show called Rock of Love in which former Poison front man Bret Michaels looks for love among a group of women too young to remember when Every Rose Has Its Thorn hit the airwaves, I had to check it out. Oh man, jackpot! This show is hysterically funny in a horrifying way. The women are almost all incredibly stupid and/or continually drunk. The exception to this rule is Jess, who is smart and funny and has awesome pink hair that I covet and wish I could pull off. I am rooting for her, but I also really like Brandi M, because even though she spends much of the show in a drunken stupor, she is so funny. She has a biting, caustic wit that would serve her well as a writer for The Daily Show. Jon Stewart should really look into that.

Lacey is clearly the “New York” of the show: totally insane and convinced that she is awesome when, in reality, she is just an awful, awful person. I’m certain the producers are instructing Michaels to keep her on till the end for ratings purposes. I look forward to the season finale where Lacey gets the boot as she so richly deserves and hopefully runs off to refill her Prozac prescription. Also, she’s one of those really obnoxious PETA people who get all in your face about eating meat, like, shut up crazy girl, I like steak!

The show is about half over by now, but I recommend trying to catch a marathon of it sometime in the future. If you’re so lucky as to do that, definitely make yourself some pancakes.