As I was describing Rock of Love to a friend last night, she made an astute observation:
Me: “So, its this show, where Brett Michaels has to pick from this group of tan blond women with fried hair….”
Friend: “So, they all look like Brett Michaels.”
Good point. Didn’t Freud or someone say that we are most attracted to those who are like us?
Well, this week’s Rock o’ Love had some amazing moments:
- The vomit spewing from behind a woman’s napkin as she tried to pretend that she was not spontaneously vomiting.
- “One of the most touching moments” of Brett’s life: when the above lady proclaimed her love for him toilet-side, after she had finished her vomitage.
- Watching a woman chug a bottle of Jager. You don’t see that every day. At least I don’t.
- The responsible young lady who didn’t get boozed to the point of vomitiness, bitchiness, or passoutedness is rewarded with a very special night of kissing (with tongue) and more, with Brett himself. Hmmm–this wasn’t how high school worked.
It was bad. And of course, as fascinating as the eye shadow and hairspray these ladies wear as their uniform. I didn’t make it to the end of the show. The vomiting and then the heart to hearts the next day was enough. Do the producers feel bad about damaging all those livers?
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