Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve been dying to see this trashfest from the word go. I know I took forever to do this recap, so I’m not wasting any time on the fancy intros. I’m just gonna take a shot and dive right into the dumpster we call Rock of Love!
Our bachelor is Bret Micheals from the 80′s metal band Poison. He starts off by telling us that he knows the secret to love: you’ve got to find someone who you want to be friends with and have sex with. Particularly, he’s looking for that hot, cool, sexy girl who can also deal with the insanity of rock and roll; the “insatiable bitch goddess.” I think Bret’s standards may be a little high. Most of the single people I know in LA are just looking for someone with a job who won’t cheat on them.
I just wanna be loved, is that so wrong?
They show us the obligatory montage of Bret living a lonely life on the road from twenty years ago, set to the ubiquitus “Every Rose Has Its Thorn”. I have a feeling we’re going to be hearing a lot of this song for the next ten weeks. Bret tells us that he’s already “hooked up with” some of the most beautiful women in the world…so naturally, when VH1 came calling with the chance to meet twenty five slags desperate for fifteen minutes of reality television fame, he leapt at the chance.
The ladies will be living in a rented house in the Hollywood Hills while they compete for the honor of being the girl who’s best looking and least irritating, cause with this bunch, that’s all it’s coming down to, really. Bret has to make sure he has the right woman before he takes her home to meet his daughters. The truth is, allegedly, there’s a Mommy at Casa Michaels as well, but we’re just going to have to ignore that minor detail for the sake of entertainment. The irony of having to willingly suspend our disbelief for reality television is not lost on me, but hey, the dude’s got a solo album to promote, VH1′s got a franchise to keep alive, I’ve got bitchy to expel and you need something to read online while you pretend to work. Let’s just play our parts and be quiet about it.
He pulls up to the rented house on his Harley and the girls go crazy. Miss Hooters Illinois tells us that the title has given her the tools she will need to win Bret’s heart. Her tools are orange spandex shorts and a sash. Good luck, sweetie. He banged Pam Anderson, you know. Don’t think it’s gonna be such a cakewalk. Of course the rest of them all have faux-competitive, producer coerced comments to make as well like, “they better watch out, he’s mine” and “keep trying, it’s never gonna happen”. All except for Badass Brandi who tells us she wants to make him her bitch. Oh, I am so backing this broad.
Vote for this slag!
Bret says a very quick hello, and then passes the girls off to his Head of Security, Big John, for orientation. The first thing he tells them is there are rules! No going into Bret’s room without permission, no touching the guitars and don’t puke in the jacuzzi. I decide that I want Big John accompanying me everywhere telling people “These are the rules for being around GB. You pay for dinner. And don’t wear cheap shoes.” That would be so fucking fabulous.
Big John segues into a speech about the backstage party and how not everyone gets in…is this going where I think its going? Oh, this show is so much meaner than I could ever be! Sure enough Big John starts picking girls. And the ones he’s picking are the fugly ass ho ba…well, he’s not exactly picking the hotties. Everyone else is invited into the house, and the five left standing are informed that their tour ends here. Denied! The rejects (one of whom is actually kind of cute, in a 4H Club sort of way) are annoyed and humiliated. But come on, since we’re calling this reality, the only ways these five would have gotten backstage was with knee pads.
Next time, bring your pretty.
And so it comes as no surprise whatsoever when the most unfortunate- looking one of all, Tiffany, appears onscreen on the to tell us that she did not come all the way here from Chicago to be eliminated so quickly. Oddly enough, one of the other castoffs told us the exact same thing, making this is the saddest commentary on Chicago that I have ever heard. Well, besides the band Chicago. Tiff’s rocking the whore in clown makeup look, accessorized with crazy eyes. Trainwreck Number One. Could be the title of a Poison song, no?
But before they let us in on Clown Whore Tiffany’s strategy to get back into this cesspool, the producers shift the scene to the party inside the house and we get to meet some of the contestants who have passed Big John’s test of hotness. There’s squeaky-voiced Brandi C., possibly the most annoying person to ever walk this earth, who immediately clings onto another blond with fake boobs, Kristia, and informs everyone that the two of them will be best friends and party girl twins. At first I think Brandi C. just has some pathological codependency issues, but if she can offer Bret two girlfriends for the price of one reality show, it may not be such a bad plan. I have to warn you, though, two fuglys don’t make a right.
A girl with pink hair, Lacey, zeroes in on the musical equipment set up in the corner. She jumps behind the drum set and starts to play. Turns out she’s the rocker chick of the bunch. She’s a musician, he’s a musician, they’ll be on the same page. Could work. At the least there would be mutual understanding about any viral souveniers coming in off the road.
Badass Brandi is the wild girl. She’s also pretty, rocking the groupie ensemble admirably. She’s like a cooler, younger version of Bret. Rodeo looks about 50, and seems sweet, like a grandma. A bunch of the girls cluster in room and talk about their boob jobs. There’s really isn’t much I can say about girls who have no shame. Especially Annoying Brandi, who tells us that her fakies were the best birthday presents her parents ever gave her! Like, yay! Just when I thought she had all the brain dead tramp bases covered, she goes and adds spoiled to the list. Sink lower! Sink lower!
Let’s check back in with Clown Whore Tiffany. She is still on her rant about how she’s not going so easily. Her primary argument for staying is that she had a cowboy hat specially made for this adventure. Oh, well that settles it for me. She marches over to the house and begins pounding on the door. The others look around in panicked confusion. It’s a very dramatic setup. Big John opens the door and she begs to stay. He tells her there’s literally nowhere to sleep. Fine by her, she says, she’ll sleep on the floor. In the kitchen. Or in the tub. Is she desperate to be with Bret or just desperate to be on TV? Hard to tell, but when I see her standing there all lumpy in her spandex fuschia dress, I think this is a low no one could have predicted. Well done, VH1. Someone needs to give that casting director a raise! Pity, oral sex, clever producers…whatever the reason, Big John agrees to give Clown Whore another chance with Bret. And she’s back.
Hon, trashy rock star guys don’t like desperate, subservient morons. Oh, wait. Yes they do. You’re in!
The first activity for the lucky groupies is a photo session for each girl’s backstage pass. Bret’s the photographer. The skanks vamp it up for the camera, and pretty much all of them walk over and tongue him after their photo session, It’s disgusting. Actually, some of them make that comment themselves, but it doesn’t stop them from doing it. You’ve got to check your morals and your hygiene at the door for this gig. That doesn’t leave you with much to work with, but Heather, a tired old stripper, hoovers her last shred of dignity when she repeatedly flashes her breasts at Bret to make herself stand out in the photo session. Ahhh, the subtle art of seduction. She tells us it’s sexy, and Bret loves it, which probably matters more than what I have to say about it. So I’ll just concede that this ho’s most definitely on the right track.
Now that he’s got kind of a good idea of who the biggest whores are, Bret starts spending time with them. He realizes for the first time that it will be like going on twenty-one first dates. That’s right sugar, dates, not twenty-one quickies, will determine your picks. Gnarly concept, huh? He tells us he hasn’t had many actual dates, just crazy wild rock and roll bus sex or long term relationships. But he kind of says it in a way that makes you not want to hate him. It’s really no wonder this guy gets so much ass.
Annoying Brandi embarks on the first of many, many attempts to get alone time with Bret. First she tries standing in the corner, stroking a pool cue and staring creepily at Bret as he chats up Rocker Lacey and some other girl. When this fails, Annoying Brandi stomps over and starts whining that he needs to come with her nooooow-uhh. She wants him to teach her to play pooooooool-uhh. This has to be the sound of Satan. Bret whips out some patient parenting skills and tells her to hold on for two minutes. She resumes her post in the corner. Now we’ve got two with the crazy eyes. When you think of the number of girls like this a rock star has to deal with, you kind of understand why so many of them end up addicted to drugs and booze. Personally, I don’t think there’s enough Xanax on the planet to handle this walking implant.
He also spends a little time with Tamara, whom he’s very physically attracted to. He tries to have a conversation with her, and it yields some really deep results, like “when you’re happy, you’re happy” and “you want what you want”. Is it strange being in this situation, he asks her? Well, she doesn’t know the details of the gig, or the amount of time she’ll be there, but she assures him that she “gets it”. Yeah sweetheart, you totally get it. Bret was worried until he looked at her body. Even if they couldn’t hold a conversation, he would find some way to communicate with her. Like smoke signals, or beating on a log. Or boobie grasps. Or finger sucking. OK slut, enough, we get it.
Now that Clown Whore has been let back into the house – much to the irritation of the competition, I might add, her first order of business is to get stupid, sloppy drunk. While she was outside “persuading” Big John to let her rejected ass back in, the other girls had been cocktailing. She needs to catch up! Tawny with the streaky black/blonde hair wonders if she’s crazy or just an alcoholic. Either way, according to the girls, Clown Whore is making a fool of herself and pissing everyone off.
So does fire. Here, let me help you…(sound of striking match)
Bret manages to slip past the crazy to spend a little time with Samantha. She’s a cute platinum blonde with lots of tattoos. Her musical tastes run from Slayer to Tom Waits, and they both love True Romance and Elvis movies. I think Sam seems like a cool girl and Bret does, too. He starts checking out her tattoos, but Heather the Flasher takes the opportunity to grab his arm and examine his own artwork. She notices that the date tattooed on his arm happens to be her birthday. Turns out it is his daughter’s birthday too! Well, this is all the Flasher needs to hear to know that it is absolutely meant to be. A clear sign, she tells us, and proceeds to hammer this bit of good fortune into Bret’s head. Sam is not afraid to admit that Heather the Flasher totally intimidates her. Me too, girl. I kind of don’t want to say too much about her. She seems like the type who would cut you over a Lycra halter at Wet Seal.
Someone comments that there are lots of strippers in the house and, surprises of surprises, there’s a pole! First up to perform is Heather the Flasher, who has changed into some type of orange costume for the event. Clown Whore yells her critique while attempting the challenging task of sitting upright in a chair, and then finally treats us to a show of her own. She is a disgrace to drunken strippers everywhere. Grandma Rodeo looks on, telling us she was confused, but not impressed. Back in her day, you know, strippers cold hold their hooch. There’s always one, comments Big John sagely, doing a stellar job of standing around doing nothing.
Next Bret spends a little quality time with Badass Brandi, or Wild Thing, as Bret christens her. He pictures hot, nasty, germy, rock n’ roll sex with her. She’s probably on board with that, as she tells us that she’s a Capricorn and therefore ruled by her genitals. Bret comments that Badass Brandi is heaven and hell in one body. Much like Rock of Love is heaven and hell in one TV show. Cheap one, I know, but awfully true.
He turns to the blond next to him, whose name I don’t catch, but it really doesn’t matter as she is utterly vacant. You can practically visualize the big dustballs wafting around in the spot where her brain should be. She tells us she’s a nice girl who has moved around a whole lot. Well, I’m certainly intrigued. Please do tell us more. The best that she can come up with is that she’s a Jessica Simpson Knockoff. Those are the actual words she uses. Bret looks like he’s having a hard time staying awake and says he feels a distance between them, kind like she’s in the room, but not really in the room. A lobotomy will do that to a girl. Somehow, Knockoff Jess walks away thinking she made a good impression.
Alright, who beat the hell out of Jessica Simpson?
Annoying Brandi and her sidekick Kristia, who looks like a soft core porn Alice in Wonderland with her little headband, come back to the party with Brandi chanting, “Where’s our man, where’s our baby boy?” I think we have reached our touchstone of mind numbing stupidity. Tawny with the streaky blond/black hair tells us she has to walk away when these two are nearby, as she fears their dumbness will rub off on her. Can’t say I blame her. I feel it happening too, and I’m just watching it on television.
The next girl Bret wants to get to know is Raven, a black girl who looks completely out of place. Right off the bat, she tells us there’s something that’s different about her. No, there’s not, honey. I don’t care what color your skin is, stupid and self important don’t know color any better than trash does. She’s tells us she’s very intelligent, and has a lot to offer. Intelligent, huh? She’s the one who told us her favorite song is “Every Thorn Has It’s Rose”. Her main problem with men is that they are so busy looking at how beautiful she is that they don’t notice the intellectual part. Ugh, another one of those. She comes from an unstable home. How very shocking. She mentions parallel universes… I’m getting more bored and irritated with every word I write about her, so enough about this loser.
Bret goes outside and sits down with Grandma Rodeo. He is impressed by her “cut” body, and is thrilled to find out that she’s a personal trainer. He tells her they can hit the gym together. She’s really into it, although I don’t think gym buddy exactly screams romance…unless you’re in a gay porno movie. What is it with gay guys doin’ it in gyms? Wait…sorry. Moving on.
Rodeo makes a point of telling him that she didn’t Google him. Why would she need to when she’s been stalking him since 1988? Google should call contact her. When he mentions he’s a dad, she just about melts. Coincidentally, she has a (40 yr old?) son, which makes Bret to feel a true, really instant connection.
Time to bust out the sob story! Rodeo was paralyzed and in a wheelchair for two years. Not to pass judgment here, but I thought being paralyzed was kind of a permanent thing, not something to throw around to get ahead on a reality dating show. But wait, there’s more. She had cancer, but she fought through that as well. Coincidentally, again, he’s been a diabetic his whole life. That’s so the same as cancer and paralysis. She has a clichÃ© loaded and ready to go about not taking life for granted, and he emphatically agrees. Bret’s ready with the clichÃ© comeback: they have both had to experience a lot of thorns to get to the roses. Roses, thorns, will this shit not die? Then Grandma Rodeo grabs his hand, and tells him that she can feel his soul. Through his HAND. The editors treat us to cute backgrounds of birds chirping, fireworks going off, and the ocean. Awwww…they feel it too.
Meanwhile, Clown Whore is still making an ass of herself. She’s a sloppy mess, Badass Brandi tells us. And then Clown Whore starts mouthing off to the other black girl, Dallas, who has a little bit of the America’s Next Top Model thing going on. It’s bleeped out, but I’m guessing it was the n-word. Dallas and Badass actually respond patiently at first – but it soon turns ugly. They cut to Big John standing by with a blank look, just watching. As the situation gets uglier, Clown Whore keeps yelling “Don’t threaten me with a good time!”. There’s lots of “get your hand out of my face” brouhaha and then finally someone shouts for security. Hello, he’s standing right there! I think Big John may be stoned. Or just entertained. Or both.
Bret’s outside talking to Pink Hair Jes. Only one “s”? That has gotta be the dumbest name change EVER. She does have a very pretty fac, though. Bret asks her what she’s looking for, but Jes doesn’t know. She’s got no expectations. She’s ready to be surprised! Honestly, if you must travel the reality dating show road, this is the only remotely reasonable way to do it. Bret notes that she is smart, witty, and immediately recognizes that she has a wall built up. Say what you will haters, this guy definitely knows women. Luckily for everyone, the wall is a turn on, so definitely not a bad plan to make it a challenge for him.
He turns to Lauren, who is sitting on his other side. He asks her what she makes of the situation. It’s amazing, she says with a blank smile plastered on her face. Crickets chirp. Luckily, Clown Whore chooses this moment to scare the crap out of us again. “Don’t threaten me with a good time!” she slurs as she stumbles onto the scene, draping herself across the three of them.
Alright. How bout I threaten you with a restraining order, instead?
Annoying Brandi and Kristia are back as well. Brandi is very upset at not having had any time with Bret. You need to hang ooouuut with meeeeee, help me with pooooooooooool, Breeeeet, she whines. It’s getting annoying, she tells the camera. You don’t say. She finally manages to pull him away for herself, but the clump of girls hanging around follows them like rabid dogs. Two grabbing him this way, three pulling him that way… Ladies, ladies! There’s enough dirty tired ex-rock star for everyone!
After setting up a schedule of who he’ll “hang with”, Bret comments on how it will take all of his inner strength to get through the night. I get the feeling it’s meant in a larger sense, like, I so would not be doing this if I didn’t have a wife and kids to support. Residuals have to dry up some time, buddy. The first appointment on the Schedule of Hang goes to Annoying Brandi and Kristia. Now that Annoying Brandi finally has a moment (sort of) alone with Bret, she wisely uses her time to whine about how he’s been paying attention to every other girl but her. Cause needy and desperate are so the way to go with a guy who’s on the road for a living.
Clown Whore is back in a jiff, having no doubt been corralled by a producer, fed a shot of Jager and shoved toward the nearest camera. She climbs onto Bret and starts humping him. She just wants to get it on, Bret ever so astutely observes, and he’s kind of a little bit turned on, but also afraid she may try and kill him. She beat his penis to a pulp, Bret tells us, but it’s a dry pulp. Funny, Shecky. It finally dawns on Bret that maybe, just maybe, his Head of Security should have been doing something about this? Pushed it down to 5, perhaps? But Big John’s nowhere to be found. Probably off smoking a spliff with Badass Brandi.
Security! Someone let crabs loose out here!
But enough about the intrusion to Bret’s personal space, the real problem here is that Annoying Brandi STILL has not had sufficient alone time with Bret. Oh, it’s heart wrenching for all of us, sweetie. All she wants is to talk to him. That’s our maaaaaan, she whines, pulling Kristia along with her into the house to continue stalking him. She will not be a slut about it, she states self-righteously. Remember that one dolls, it’s coming back around in about five minutes. Kristia tries to console her, but Annoying Brandi’s nervous that he can’t see that she’s perfect for him. “I don’t feel like he loves me”, she whimpers. I seriously hope they have mental health professionals standing by on this one.
Clown Whore meanders back outside to a group that includes: Mia, who calls her an outcast, Dallas, who flat out tells her there is no one who wants to talk to her, and Jes, who comments that she’s disrespecting everyone. And if there’s one thing girls competing for an aging rocker on a cable reality show should have, it’s respect. Clown Whore gives us some crazy Paula Abdul gibberish. VH1 adds subtitles. Wonder how long that took.
Makes perfect sense to me.
Bret sits down with Mia and Rocker Lacey and they ask him what he is looking for. Well, Bret tells them, every night is a party. So he needs someone understanding about the whole girls on the tour bus thing. Lacey of course takes the opportunity to play the “I’m a touring musician too!” card. If her man’s a good guy, well then she totally understands that there’s fun to be had. Little things, like flirting and kissing, would not upset her. Flirting and kissing, huh? What do you think this is you moron, seventh grade? Would orgies upset you? Or did you happen to miss Poison’s episode of Behind the Music? I mean seriously, debauchery doesn’t even begin to cover what these guys were up to. Into. Oh hell, you don’t even want to know.
Clown Whore Update: She’s now outside with another group of girls. Cool Samantha actually offers her a seat. Magdalena with the long legs asks her what she’s doing there, and Faith, a prissy looking brunette, asks her what she’s fighting for. Screen time, honey. Clown Whore babbles on, but somewhere in the middle of drunk and crazy, she mentions a daughter. She has a kid? And custody? Are you kidding me? One of the neighbors called child services on my friends who had a mouse in their house, and this sauced up hussy is a raising a daughter? Oh well, Clown Whore doesn’t care what anyone thinks. They drink Hater-Aide, she tells us, but she doesn’t drink that. Faith finds the whole thing to be strange. Big John drags himself away from his bong long enough to tell Clown Whore she needs to fix her problem, or she’s gonna go. Ah, alcoholism. It really is just as easy as just saying no. Enough with the empty threats of eviction. This disaster is the gift that’s going to just keep giving for at least three to five more episodes.
Now’s the time to call your mom and tell her you love her, people.
At some point in all of this, Bret notices that there are a few girls who are not quite as drunk and slutty…er…outgoing. They have separated themselves from the party, and that’s not good. Let’s give him credit for at least not giving us some BS line about how he feels so bad to not be able to spend time with all of them. If they want him, they better come to him. He’s getting a ridiculous amount of mileage on this 80′s Prince of Hair thing.
Bret’s somewhere else in the house with the same girls who keep magically appearing by his side, Magdalena Legs, Heather the Flasher and Cool Samantha. Annoying Brandi weasels her way into this group as well, only this time she’s wearing Kristia’s pink bikini that’s a size too small and it finally, FINALLY captures Bret’s attention. Hallelujah. He tells the other chicks to beat at, as he’s been promising Annoying Brandi alone time all night.
You’re bad at promises, she tells him. I know, he replies, that’s why I’m single. Loves it. As she curls up with him, her hand immediately goes to his crotch, her edict about not being a slut all but forgotten in the frenzy of dawn approaching without her having made it perfectly clear what a desperate, pathetic tramp she really is. Bret takes in her “heaving, implanted breasts”, and feels like there will be a strong spiritual relationship. Then, according to Bret, Annoying Brandi whispers the most sentimental thing ever in his ear…if he chooses her, he can have more than one girlfriend. As long as she’s the main girlfriend, of course. Bret seems open to it, but comments that he doesn’t know if it’s enough substance to constitute a long-term relationship. And he says it with a straight face.
If this girl doesn’t scream “wife” to you, you need to get your ears checked, dude.
Just when you think this night, this recap, and this hour and a half long episode will never end, they show us the girls fretting over eliminations. Mia is worried that she hasn’t had enough time. She should be worried. She’s been scenery in everything I’ve watched so far. Rodeo is “nervous as crap”, and Annoying Brandi tells Kristia they’re “too pretty” to be eliminated. But Kristia, having left her desperate ho routine on the other side of the rabbit hole is, worried. She hasn’t spent much time with Bret either.
Cool Samantha is worried because she doesn’t drink, and doesn’t party and that’s a major part of his life. I wonder why it doesn’t occur to her that she might actually be too good for all of this. Clown Whore assures us that it “ain’t no thing but a chicken wing”. She’s not at all concerned. She’s clearly read her Reality Dating Show Handbook and knows that the wasted psycho routine will get you pretty far in this game.
Bonnie’s another one who doesn’t think she had enough time. She’s onto something though, because she’s actually one of the ones Bret noticed for not being “outgoing” enough. She’s not cute and looks at least 45. It’s just not fair, she slurs, drunkenly shaking her hair.
No Fair Hair
By the time eliminations roll around, these girls look like they’ve been through a war. No glossy, Bachelor-style pre-elimination retouches here. What you see is what you’re gonna get after a night of hard partying with these chicks.
Bret, no doubt refreshed with a shower, massage and freshly tightened weave, comes back in decked out in a long leather coat borrowed from Bon Jovi’s closet. The first backstage pass goes to the lady whose heart and soul he fell in love with…not to mention her super hot body. Clown Whore looks serenely toward him, as if to say “I know”. She’s so deluded. But the recipient of the first backstage pass is….Grandma Rodeo! I knew it. Matching headgear. Was their really any doubt? He asks her to stay and rock his world. She’d be honored. Magdalena Legs complains that Rodeo has been chosen first, because she thinks she looks like a man. Is she serious? Mag’s got a voice like the Marlboro Man.
The next pass goes to the beautiful young lady with hot breasts. It’s Heather, the 32 year old Flasher. I love how he threw “young” in there. Didn’t I tell you he knows women? Flasher is very happy to be number two – nothing like aiming high, babe. Jes, of the pink hair and one “s”, similarly felt good about being number three. Where the hell is Mo’Nique with the pep talk when you need her? Cool Sam will also stay with us, as will Magdalena Legs and Badass Bradi, neither of whom faint with excitement. They know the game is just beginning and that another elimination is just around the bend.
Tall, prissy Faith gets a pass, although Bret wants to make sure she wants to be there and Tamara, who totally gets it, looks like his type in a hot red dress. Mia and Erin, the Hooters girl who he describes as “hot and beautiful”, also get to stay. Dallas prances down for her pass (I’m telling you, it’s only a stepping stone to Tyra-land for this one), and Streaky Tawny gets one as well. Next, Bret offers a pass to Rocker Lacey, reasons being that she loves music and wants to hang…but really meaning, there are girls hotter and sluttier than you here, but if my someone in my band is too hungover to play, you may come in handy. Kristia, Annoying Brandi’s better half gets the next to last pass.
BUT, Annoying Brandi’s name has not yet been called. And I’m 99% sure they’re not getting rid of Clown Whore this early on. Can we be this lucky? Annoying Brandi is furious at having not been called yet. Why am I last, she demands to know? Let me explain this in a way you can understand, hon:
Finally, Bret gives the big speech before giving out the final backstage pass. He had a problem with some beautiful girls who were only observers. This includes 45 year old Bonnie, and Christa who looks like she just ate a lemon. He admits that Brandi C. pretty much annoyed the shit out of him. But, he also recognizes that she was totally there for him, and he thinks she’s pretty, so she gets the final pass. Brandi giggles like an idiot, and smugly tells us she guesses he really does like her. It was a pity pass, cupcake, but whatever.
And then comes the twist….Bret himself has had many screw-ups, done many stupid things, and asked for forgiveness many times before. Not one to judge, he’s offering up one more spot in the house. The final pick will have no official backstage pass, no bed, and clearly, no self respect. It’s Clown Whore, of course! Dallas notes that she probably only got to stay by providing sexual favors to Big John (this is actually probably a valid theory, you know that guy’s been scraping up Bret’s reject crumbs for years), but that’s ok with Dallas, because that’s what Clown Whore does for a living and Dallas is totally fine with that.
Bret cautions that Clown Whore’s already had two strikes, but he feels like she’s a good person. Plus, she was entertaining, he says with a smirk. As I suspected, Bret’s read his Reality Dating Show Handbook as well. Annoying Brandi is not happy about this turn of events. She wonders how can he sentence them to live with this dumb ass bitch. I imagine the others are wondering the very same thing about her. I sure would have been. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Clown Whore mumbles for the eighty millionth time, as she accepts Bret’s charity.
And now for the goodbyes to the latest crop of rejects. Bret thinks they’re, of course, beautiful and smart, and wants to say a proper good bye before they have to roll. Lemon Face Christa tells us it’s her own fault, she just wasn’t aggressive enough. I couldn’t care less. Jessica Simpson Knockoff tells Bret it’s cool to his face, but she tells us she guesses he just doesn’t like the smart ones. That’s a good guess, sweetie, now let’s get you back to the fingerpainting and field trips to the petting zoo. Raven offers him a gruff, “Thanks, man” but Bret reminds her of the coolness she had extolled about herself in her ninety hour diatribe earlier. She tells us accusingly that he kissed her “blue-eyed, black butt” with a smile. No, he didn’t. He pretty much called you out for being the self-important windbag that you are. He did say she had a nice ass though. She should just be grateful he had anything nice to say, cause I sure don’t. Lauren, he says, was too innocent. He really doesn’t know why she was there. Me either. He was, however, actually bummed to have let 45 year old Bonnie go, but he’s here to find only one true love, and let’s face it, she’s too old to be chasing after tour busses.
He thanks the skanks, and asks them if they’re ready to rock this house! They respond with all the enthusiasm their drunken, ate-up asses can muster and pop open their cans of Natural Light for a toast. They’re ready!
Rock n’ roll, dolls! See ya next week!