Daisy of Love: Lullabies To Dickmatize

This week was a hoot for me to watch and if I were a psychiatry student I could probably write an entire dissertation on the pathology of rock n roll love and the idiots that fall for bad boys. Honestly, I fell for one myself. Okay, maybe it was twice but I learned my lesson and now can only be manipulated by men with large wing-wangs and even larger bank accounts. Shout out to my baby- I love you! Muah!!

In this episode, 12 Pack and Flex are becoming the Rowan and Martin of reality. They continually make fun of the other guys which is highly entertaining and borderline mean. Pretty much the way I like it. Imagine if you were stuck in a “mansion” with these assholes. You too would make fun of London for frying his hair with a flat iron when it ends up looking exactly the same as it did before he used it, like 12 Pack does. He may have that horrible chin strap facial hair but at least he doesn’t fall into the category of being premeditatively fake dishevelled. Are you really a punk who hates the world or are you just mad at your Daddy as Flex asked last week? We shall find out, Gasmii, we shall find out..

Let’s begin with our Ambiguously Gay Duo. Mr Peepers is doing side crunches and push-ups on the floor of the room he shares with TT, as the chinister one looks on from his bottom bunk (yeah, I almost called him that instead of TT. I hate chin landing strips with a passion).

There is a rift in their love. I feel a shift in the emotions that were so strong when they first arrived and it is not good. Will Daisy come between them? Can their love survive an open relationship? Will Mr Peepers ever stop flossing with TT’s pubes? I can’t stand the suspense! Such agony! TT leaves the room after making a meanie remark about Peeper’s exercise ‘O’ face. Don’t be nasty, we all know that you’re just mad because it’s been so long since he’s made it just for you.

Back to them later. Riki Fonzarelli and Daisy call the boys into a room full of music equipment and we get our next challenge. They have to perform a song for Daisy! Ha ha! Now we’ll see who’s a real rock star and who’s a big phony. Can’t wait! But there’s a twist. They have to base their songs on tunes that Daisy liked as a kid. No, not ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ or ‘Girls, Girls, Girls,’ but nursery rhymes. And, they’ll be performing live at The Knitting Factory. Excuse me for a moment while I go grab that barf bucket. I must be prepared.

The teams are headed by guys that are already in bands so that no single group can hog all the, ahem, talent. The first group is 6 Gauge, Big Rig and Flex. 6 Gauge made the bold move of picking his team based on their BMI and not their actual music experience. Or maybe he just can’t stand to be around a bunch of skinny pansies. It’s a toss-up.

London picks Cage because he heard him singing in the shower (brilliant!) and TT picks 12 Pack. This is getting sad. Poor Peepers can’t beleive his eyes. “Why, master, why?” I’ll tell you why. TT picked 12 Pack because TT is a coward who is turning on his friend, not because 12 Pack can play drums. I watched the outtakes and everyone in the house bashes Mr. Peepers for being an ass kissing pussy and TT stabbed him in the back. If you didn’t hate the chinister one before, feel free to do so now.

London picks Mr. Peepers which leaves Fox on TT’s team. That’s right, foxy Fox got picked last. God, he’s dumb, and he keeps getting dumber. In interviews he states the obvious: that London “picked me due(sic) to the fact that he had no more to chose from.” I’m so relieved to discover that he grasped the situation so perfectly. Someone please send the short bus to pick him up NOW.

They have two hours to get ready which should be more than enough time to butcher Mother Goose but they’re acting all nervous, especially Peepers. I think I know why. Have you ever been in a relationship and your significant other does something totally out of character and you get that sinking feeling because you don’t know where you stand anymore? That would be Peep’s dilemma. He knows the axe is going to fall and he’s powerless to stop it. Time to renew that subscription to Manhunt, kiddo.

TT’s team gets ‘Old MacDonald,’ London’s gets ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat,’ and 6 Gauge’s gets ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’ How precious. Flex says that he doesn’t know the words but something tells me that won’t make a damn bit of difference. Why? Because they are going to perform topless, and in Big Rig’s case, bottomless as well. Twunty likey. Twunty likey very much. Come to think of it can they also put some gaffer’s tape over Fox’s mouth and have him run around naked? Just asking.

TT is oblivious to Fox’s strengths because he hands him a bass. What’s he supposed to do with that? If he hasn’t learned cognitive thinking in 25 years, he sure as hell isn’t going to learn the bass in two hours. All he needs to do is emulate the chicks from the ‘Addicted to Love’ video and pretend to strum while looking gorgeous.

Meanwhile, Pee Pee is lurking outside listening to TT’s band rubbing his crotch in hopes that a genie will pop out and grant him his wish of the chinister one’s undying love. Plus, their band actually sounds good so he’s freaking out a little. I swear he looks like he’s going to cry or piss his pants any second. Who wants to bet that he’s a big old Momma’s boy who rescued baby birds with broken wings and fed stray cats with his paper route money? Wuss. Blech. I’d rather masturbate with a cheese grater than have sex with this turd.

At the Knitting Factory we meet the judges. Riki, Daisy and a chick named Taylor. Taylor is a gross, sloppy mouthed blonde who thinks she’s hot shit because her Dad played guitar in the Steve Miller Band. So she’s rock royalty, right? I’m sure that she hangs out with Kelly Osbourne, Kim Stewart and the Richards girls all the time. Mostly when she hands them their keys at the valet desk at H-wood.

She tells the guys not to get too excited and I’m sitting here thinking, huh? Taylor, you look like Tina Yothers crossed with Mindy McCready and I’m pretty sure that you’ve been cheating on that NutraSystem diet you signed up for. But she’s Daisy’s best friend so she can’t be all bad, right? Umm hmm. They probably bonded over their famous relatives.

6 Gauge’s band comes out and they’ve called themselves Chip ‘n Daisy. Get it? Like the male stripper company Chippendale’s? They drew fake tattos on each other with a Sharpie, put on eye makeup and lost the shirts. Then Big Rig comes out with nothing but a guitar and all hell breaks loose. Daisy goes into one of her patented epileptic fits of orgasmic delight and it’s a completely genuine and hilarious moment on a show that has such a tired formula. Only it gets better.

6 Gauge rips his pants off ( I have to assume that Tool Box left them behind by accident ), reveals his tiny undies and the boy is PACKING. I think that Daisy’s eyes just rolled back in her head and the producers are going to have to make her sniff London’s armpit to pull her out of it. It’s safe to say that they’ve got my vote. I could care less if they hit one note.

London’s group is called the Daisy Blades because punk rocker London assumes that Daisy like razor blades. Surprise! She doesn’t get the Sex Pistol reference and thinks that London is insulting her hygeine. Their performance is sort of punk and kind of prog but mostly just awful. Daisy’s panties are all wet for London anyway and she slinks down in her chair and then rocks out. Girl is seriously dickmatized because it can’t be to the music so I’m going to blame it on the Champagne that she keeps spilling. They are about as interesting as breakfast cereal.

TT’s band is called the Daisy Train or Chain, I don’t really care. They are by far the tightest and most professional sounding but there is no stage presence at all. 12 Pack is wearing a cowboy bandana and knows his way around a drum kit, Fox is doing his best not to ruin everything and TT plays the guitar perfectly but never looks up from his instrument. Dumb ass, ever heard of eye contact? You deserve to lose, just for that.

Riki and Taylor think that TT’s band were the best but this is not about that. It’s about whose pants Daisy wants to dry hump against later so she picks London’s band. Fonzi is not happy. He looks more fed up than ever and has that sad look of a Dad with a daughter that makes every bad decision she possibly could and he believes it’s because Karma is biting him in the ass for all the chicks he’s screwed over in the past.

The strange thing is that this is Mr. Peepers and London’s third date with Daisy. They’ve been on every winning team so far. Peepers is so creepy that I would have chosen another team (hello 6 Gauge) so I wouldn’t have him skeeving up on me. I mean after all, you can always make out with London later.

They hop on the Gibson tour bus to drink V-8 and eat some Kashi bars.
Ha! Yeah right. They head straight for the bar. Mr. Peepers points out that London is gulping his Champers like it’s Gatorade after a marathon and all I got to say is; he’s a tortured punk rock musican you fucking hall monitor, that’s what they do! Now go back to your bunk bed and kiss your signed photo of Sanjaya, you closet goo gobbler.

London wants to know where they are and Daisy tells him that they are in Beverly Hills. Guess what London was doing the last time he was in the land of Dr. Rey and Gucci? He tells her that he woke up in his car with no idea how he got there. Daisy asks him where he lives and he admits to couch surfing after his Dad had the cops throw him out of the house on a trumped up assault charge. It’s a boo hoo hard luck story and I’m sure it’s sad and all but Daisy spots something shiny and pretty or maybe the producers have finally broken out her daily supply of coke because she skips on down the hall to the back of the bus. Right in the middle of Debbie Downer’s story. Bwahahahahahah!!! I got a good laugh out of that one, Loser McWhineyPants.

They finally arrive at the Gibson showroom which is a musician’s wet dream. She presents them each with a Gibson Epiphone Les Paul guitar, not to be confused with an Epiphone-less Les Paul which is actually the one that everybody wants. I know that I am splitting hairs but I’m not here to get Gibson or Epiphone to sponsor my snark so whatever.

London sizes it up, wondering how much rotgut and ramen he’ll be able to buy after he drops it off at the nearest pawnshop because that is exactly what he did with his last guitar. He tells Daisy as much and she makes a brilliant observation- a musician without a guitar is like a blonde without her beach. Amen, sister, Amen.

She sits down at the piano with London and as he shows off by playing her a pretty, pretty ditty Peepers steals a kiss. No, not from London, which would make sense to me, but from Daisy. There goes my dinner. London’s pissed. So pissed that he breaks the third wall and rolls his eyes at the camera. Ha Ha! You got owned by a twit! I make up for the vomit with tears of laughter.

Daisy tell Mr. Peepers that she does not want to come between he and his special friend, she’s no homewrecker, and I think it was very nice of her to listen to his relationship woes. Enough of that tripe.

She has a one on one with Cage next and it’s time for more tears and sadness. His Dad was abusive, his Mom was an alcoholic who flipped her car (did she die? not clear on this) and he was homeless after that, eating out of trash cans and fighting in alleys for money. Good God. At least he got discovered and should be well on his way to losing whatever memory he’s got left. That would be a good thing.

Meanwhile, London is busy being a big baby who throws a tantrum if his belly isn’t rubbed every five seconds. He just doesn’t get why he’s being ignored so he switches to the hard stuff when they get back on the bus to go home. Great. Now he’s guaranteed to be charming.

He starts of with accusing Daisy of giving him attitude the whole night and tries to get the other guys to back him up. They wisely stay out of it. He’s acting like a pissy little bitch and if I were Daisy, I’d hit him over the head with that guitar before he gets his chance to sell it. Maybe that’s what he really came here for. Guitars to sell. Only the cameras at the house were watching his every move and he didn’t get a chance to grab one of the many ones hanging on the wall. But he’s got one now so he’s ready to go home so he tells her he’s going to pack his bags and go back to the vomit covered couch he’s been missing so badly.

They get back to what I will now refer to as the Yack Castle, since that is what I’ve been doing since this show started, everbody’s all pissy and a black cloud has descended once again. London takes out his frustration on the closet in his room, gives it a right good beatin’ cuz that’s what bad boys do, and abuses the camera crew. He’s still pissed about all those guitars he could have stolen by now.

Everyone tries to restrain him from leaving except for TT. He doesn’t even pretend to care. In his head it’s bye-bye London, hello more air time. True colors, folks. Like I said before, if you don’t hate this guy yet, your douche-dar gun’s safety is on. Take it off and join the rest of us.

I did enjoy London’s little puppet dance for the camera crew and he wants you to know that “my name is JOSHUA LEE! I am a real person!” You know, just in case you have an unoccupied couch he could crash on.

I fall in love with Flex again when he says, “My name is T.J. Markowitz and I’m a real person.” He sure does love to mock. Does he do parties?

Daisy grabs London for a chat in her boudoir where she tries to convince him to stay. He tells her that he can’t stand to be treated this way since he sacrificed his whole fabulous life to be with her. And there goes dessert.
They make out disfunctionally and the dry heaves arrive when daisy tells him that he’s the best kisser out of all of them. What about the first day with Fox? She is forgetting him fast.

The next day Daisy sends team Chip ‘n Daisy to get makeovers at some stupid tool barbershop called Floyd’s 99. Flex makes another funny about yep, that’s what he came there for, a freaking makeover, yessiree. When they get a look at the Road Warrior rejects that are responsible for their transformations even Riki can’t help but laugh. They’re good sports about it but it is kind of funny that the three guys in the house with no makeup in their luggage have to sit in chairs and have eyeshadow applied to their lids.

By the way, I’m a bit conflicted in how I feel about Flex. Is he cool because in the outtakes he says everything that I’ve already said about Mr. Peepers, or is he simply a bully? Would he be fun to date or would he turn out to be another Tucker Max wannabe who would film you having sex and sleep with six other girls on the side, all the while making fun of you to his friends? Not sure yet.

Back at the Yack, they’re playing Truth or Dare. Fox asks Peepers who he thinks will get eliminated first, himself or TT. Holy crap! Something halfway intelligent! My lady bits just woke up a little bit. Somewhere between dozing and full sleep but it’s still an improvement.

Mr. Peepers says that daisy will keep TT around longer because they are more alike and falls back on his TT ball licking routine for the umpteen billionth time. When he says that if it were down to “me, you and him,” it would be TT, he is expressing how he would choose. Does he even realize how weird and creepy he comes off to everybody? It’s pathetic how clueless he is.
TT is pissed and thinks that Mr. Peepers said what he said for sympathy from Daisy. Geez, you are even more clueless- HE IS COMPLETELY IN LOVE WITH YOU, MORON! God, this is getting old.

Let’s move on from delusional to manly, shall we? Daisy dares 12 Pack to arm wrestle Cage and he kicks Cage’s ass. Wipes the floor with him. Is Cage lying about being a fighter because those UFC guys are ripped in a super hot way and Cage is a bit doughy, don’t you think? Maybe his fighting career was winding down and reality fame is his new plan to keep from having to eat out of the dumpster behind Popeye’s.

12 Pack’s reward for having big biceps is a kiss from Daisy. We don’t see it (thank you, God!) but London is worried because Daisy kisses 12 with the same passion that she has for him. Insecure much?
I have a confession to make. I’m so ashamed, but 12 Pack is growing on me. Ugh. There, I said it. Moving on.

It’s time for a delicious ‘blonde moment’ and Daisy’s is spectacular! Mine usually involve forgetting that the windows don’t work when you turn off the car or putting my keys in the freezer. Hers trumps mine spectacularly. She forgets an ENTIRE conversation. Oh, the look on London’s face when she asks him why his Dad kicked him out of the house and where he’s living now. Is she just messing with him? Trying to embarrass him in front of the rest of the guys? Nope. She is a ditz. And London walks out of the room.

Poor London, I mean JOSHUA LEE, REAL PERSON. He is not used to being tuned out so thoroughly, except by his DAD. That’s right, Dad. London (JOSHUA LEE, REAL PERSON) has Daddy issues. Flex was on the money last week.
The guyliner- Daddy didn’t hold me enough. The mohawk? Daddy called me a loser. The selling of guitars? Daddy took away my favorite Power Rangers action figure. Grow a pair, douche. There’s more moxie (love that word) and balls in one of my toenail clippings, for God’s sake.

Riki Fonzarelli feels that things are getting out of hand with Daisy and Lo Lo Lo Lo Loser so they have a little pow-wow on her bed. He gives her completely sound advice, the kind you would expect from an older brother or Richie Cunningham’s Dad; when you start out fighting all the time, the relationship doesn’t miraculously get better. The fighting continues and even worsens. He calls London a “typical loser rock star guy,” but Daisy isn’t listening. She should be. Riki has seen enough of those kinds of guys to last a lifetime.

He reminds her of the first night when London passed out in a pool of his own vomit but let’s give him a free pass on that one. It had been a long time since he’d seen anything other than Kamchatka and Natty Ice.
She goes off to talk with the loser again and he pulls that push-pull crap that dummies like Daisy are such suckers for. “I’m not fake, I don’t lie but if you feel like the other guys want to be here more….” Our blow-up doll tells him that she doesn’t want him to leave, that she’ll be offering him a chain and it is up to him to accept it. Sucka!

At eliminations we get to finally see the G-D awful makeovers. 6 Gauge is in a mesh shirt with a dog collar, Big Rig has green and red circles spray painted on his head and is wearing some kind of wrestle/stripper gear, and Flex has a full face of makeup on. Oh. My. God. I haven’t worn that much makeup since I went crazy at my mother’s dressing table when I was three.

The first chain goes to sob story-teller Cage. 12 Pack totally thought that it was going to be himself, psych! Next up is Mr. Peepers and TT is all jealous, as he should be. Just let him munch on your sack for a bit, why dontcha? It will make everything all better, promise.
12 Pack is next, then Flex (is he wearing pale petal pink lipstick by Loreal?) and Big Rig. Now for the big moment we’ve all been not waiting for. Will London (sorry, JOSHUA LEE) take his star chain or will he stomp all over poor Daisy’s delicate flower of a heart?

He refuses it. Oh well. He would have ended up dumping her later anyway.
Daisy cries and says that London has made her feel like she’s not good enough. Whhhooooaaahh, there! Hold up a minute. Not good enough for a complete and utter loser? Methinks that someone else has Daddy issues, No? Was her father a prick? Was there no Daddy at all? You have to wonder.

Somehow Loser London restrains himself and doesn’t try to steal any guitars off of the walls on his way out AND we don’t even know who Daisy was going to eliminate. The guys are left hanging in limbo.

Fox? TT? 6 Gauge? Who do you think it was going to be? You know who I would pick, and it isn’t Mr. Gorgeous or Mr. Ohmygodletmeopenthatpackage either.

Oh, and Gasmii, watch the outtakes with Flex- they are hilarious and well worth your time. Just head on over to the VH1 blog.

Thanks for all your comments, guys. Love each and every one of them.

Love and Kisses,
Twunty McSlore