I tend to give these “ladies” nicknames, so to help keep them straight I’ll add a glossary of who is left each week.  Aren’t they the lucky ones…

Angelique - Silica, for the massive amount of fake material in her face/nose/lips/boobs/body.  Plus, brain like a rock.  She’s a Z-list porn star (NSFW!)
Ambre - Hombre, simply because of the spelling
KayJay - Kristy Joe.  She doesn’t have a lot of personality, so neither does her nickname.
Megan - Chazz, as in Airheads.  Because she’s dumb.  Really, really dumb.  However dumb you think I mean, she’s well dumber than that.
Aubry - Vamps or Vampirella, due to the giant fangs of an indeterminate color she’s sporting.
Destiney - Superworms, like the actual worms.  Named for her worm-like lip implants and lack of skill with lip liner.
Jessica - Cross-eyed Fivehead (so far).
Peyton - I’m thinking of calling herSequel or Part Deux, since she’s so totally doing a Heather/Rodeo/Brandi M./Red Cuntya thing. 
Inna - SCARY RUSSIAN BROAD.  Variations on that theme.
Catherine - No name yet, but I’m thinking she’s also clone of Rodeo, so she might get the name PBR.  That’s a two-fer: Professional Bull Riders Inc., plus the trashiness of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

The following “ladies” have not yet distinguished themselves enough to earn a name, although i suspect that will all change by the end of week 2’s whorefest.

Daisy
Korie
Roxy
Sara
Niki

And we begin.

- Awesome-ometer was at 11 last week.  Will he beat it?  The “awesome” in the recap doesn’t count.  Recap is about Courtney’s drinking and Ambre’s “second chance.”

- We open on a typical RoL morning.  Whores are snoring all safe in their beds, while visions of acrylic heels dance in their heads.

- Courtney wakes up from her bender and Peyton tells her she’s out. “That sucks.” “I’m going home because I’m a dumb bitch.” Oh for fuck’s sake.  I have a zero tolerance policy for “poor me” drunks, and a zero tolerance policy for hot girls who play the “I’m so ugly” game.  Courtney is 0 for 2 and She.  Is. Outta here.

- While getting their faces on, Sara says she’s here on a dare.  This makes SCARY RUSSIAN BROAD angry, and she plans to become the Heather/Red Cuntya by running to Bret.  Sara should be careful that Inna doesn’t try to eat her, or use her as a barbell.  Oh, here we go.  Vamps is doing Inna’s dirty work for her.

Can I just take a moment to say that Vamps has a brilliant psychological ploy at work here? 

The bandanna.  Bret won’t even understand when he’s so drawn to it, but I mean, fake blonde, loads of makeup, not really bright?  It’d be like fucking himself, and you know that’s got to appeal to him.  So she’s going outside to get at Bret and tell him all about Sara.  She asks him what he’s looking for, and Douche is not even trying to hide it this time.  He’s not pretending this is about his heart, or any kind of real thing.  “Physical attraction and chemistry, that’s the most important.” That’s our Douche!  deep like a puddle.

Anyway, Aubry’s tattle-tale act didn’t work yet, but you know how Douche is.  It’ll be the excuse he uses to eliminate a black girl.  Although Sara seems like maybe she’s Indian or half-black, half Indian.  Whatever she is, she’s pretty and Douche will eliminate her because she’s not white.

- John calls everyone to the living room and he has a “note” from Bret.  Silica read it.  No one understood what she said and they think it’s a Very Brady Special Episode: The Talent Show.  No, ladies, he wants you to press your pissflaps on the plexiglass.  Sure, I guess in some circles that’s a talent.  Anyway, it’s a talent show.

- Superworms plans to “kung fu,” whatever the fuck that means.  Silica is baking.  The talented part is, she’s using her own vagina as an oven.  Oh yeah, she had a convection attachment installed last time she was in for a lip-pump.  Sara is belly dancing.

- OK, remember, they think it’s a talent show.  They all think they are supposed to display an ability.  Hombre is “good at wrapping presents and stuff.” So she’s wrapping herself up. I think that about wraps up any speculation on her intelligence.  See what I did there?  Where’s a rimshot when you need one?

- Niki is writing a poem.  Peyton says shes sweet but that sucks.  Hey Sequel; Bret starts every day with a shit-tastic poem.  Go tell him how cheesy poetry sucks and watch the doorjamb as Big John chucks your whiskey throat out on the street.

- Oh God.  Such class. 

Yeah.  Not a talent show ladies.  You have 30 seconds to humiliate yourself and if he likes you, he can drop a token and he might let you be objectified for another 15 seconds.

- Vamps is first.  She’s going to play drums.  I’m scared.  Commercial.

- Back...Douche is dying to see some punani.  Vamps cannot play for shit.  It sounds a lot like what you here when that one stoned guy sits on the throne at a music store before an employee cn stop him.  Shit like that is why they don’t keep the drumsticks within a few feet of the drum kits anymore…

- Superworms did her Kung-Fu.  We got a “kick ass” from Douche, so I guess I need to start that meter running too...it “turned him on” and he used a token. (at this point I think we all realize that Bret is turned on by virtually anything.  If it involves women in any capacity, somehow he’ll find a way.  Other things that turn him on; stiff breezes, alcoholic stupors, Big John) Speaking of booze he’s on beer number two already.  Diabetesman.  So intelligent.

Niki did her cheesepoem.  Awful.  his reaction?  “Eh” with the douchebag hand gesture.  Nice.  All class.  he poem was better than his.

- Korie’s talent was to write “marry me” on a piece of paper.  Only she spelled it “merry.” Like “Merry Christmas.” Yes, Virginia, you are an idiot.

- Catherine also did a poem, which he also didn’t like.  Dude, they’re out-writing you.

- KayJay started ironed clothes, then started taking them off.  Here’s where Douche and I agree; super hot babes doing your laundry and then demanding that you “rock them” is fucking hot.  I know, that’s like, misogynistic to the max, dude, but I don’t care.  Hot ironing, hot stripping, talking dirty. 

What’s not to love?  All that was missing was a blow job and then her bringing him another beer.

- Oh for fuck’s sake.  Chazz just stands there in a flag bikini, giggling and jiggling, doing a “magic” trick where she puts a red, a white and a blue thong into a bag then pulls a flag out and holds it up.  Backwards.

That’s it.  I just want to fucking punch her.  Let me explain.  See, when KayJay did the whole “serving you” thing, she was obviously choosing to role-play and get some shit going.  Megan plays the dumb blonde giggly shit because she’s fucking functionally retarded and doesn’t know any better.  She is the kind of woman that, were I female, I think I would hate.  I hate her now, and she’s actually hot.  But I don’t care.  I’d rather lick Vampirella’s teeth - in the morning - than spend five minutes with Megan even if she was naked and diddling herself while moaning my name.

Wait, what did I just say?  What am I, gay?  I’m just trying to say I hate her.

- Sara does her dance and I hate to say it, Douche is right.  She did a belly dance without showing her belly.  Still, if that was an implanted white girl, he’s be making a “it turned me on” joke about the jangling bits on her costume.

- SCARY RUSSIAN BROAD tied a cherry stem in a knot with her tongue.  *I* can do that.  Seriously.  Do you want to fuck me now, Bret? (Because you can.  With a condom, and for $643,827.42, but still, you can)

- Hombre’s turn.  She’s working the present idea, and she teased it right to the end until he dropped the token.  Yeah, I can see where this is going.  Whoever said the thing about her being a story for the show was spot-on.  “Almost Eliminated Girl Make Finals Of Fat Faced Douchebag’s Reality Show”

- Daisy.  She sang (not well) and wobbled back & forth...but she looks like twelve million kinds of hot in her Foreplay dress, so does it fucking matter what she did?  She’s also a different kind of slutty whore.  She seems to me like she owns her slutdom and just wants to rock out and be a slutty whore while she can.  She;s not playing dumb because she’s got no choice, she’s playing rock whore because she finds it fun.

Or I could be wrong and she’s got a brain like a fruitfly.

- Peyton is playing the guitar and singing.  Surprise!!!  Husky blues-rock voice. Not really a surprise, BTW.  She can actually do it though.  Now I know who she reminds me of.  She’s just like Dilana from Rock Star Supernova.  It’s like, at one time she might have been young and almost attractive, but then she decided to smoke meth for seven years while running with a biker gang, and her face never recovered.  Still...she’s talented, a bit, and now we know why she’s here; record deal.

- Silica is up next.  She just took off her clothes and put ‘em on the glass.  She painted herself with the chocolate mousse and licked it off her own tits.  Bret pulled out the “spiritual connection” line again.  WRITERS!  We need new dialogue for Mr. Michaels!

- We didn’t see everyone did we?  We didn’t see Five Head or Roxy.  Douche picked Peyton due to her talent.  Daisy (rockin’ bod, obviously) KayJay got a nod for being sexy, but Hombre wins the date for originality.

Ooooookay.  Like we didn’t know Hombre was going to be the big “winner.” Awesome-ometer: 1!  WTF?  He’s under-using one of his catchphrases!

- Some of the ladies went to bed early (all the VIPs), because he told them not to.  Err...."None of you go to bed early, cuz I’m ready to have a good time tonight.” You know, following instructions in this kind of situation, that’s pretty important.  When you are trying to get the washed-up rock star to be your sugar daddy, you sort of need to do what he says.

He’s confused as to where everyone is.  “Don’t go to bed early, it’s in Bret Michaels’ book of rock & roll rules.” I gotta say, he’s right.  Rule number one of hanging with famous people; NEVER.  LEAVE.  EARLY.  Be the last one out.  It is, without fail, the number one rule.  Never leave early.  Ever.  Unless you just don’t give a fuck.  In which case, fuck him and his magically expanding wig.

OH JESUS........."Do we need some music in this place?  Do you want me to play some music?” SO fucking fishing for them to say yes.  “Do you want me to play some music?” Why, is the CD player broken?  Does no one have a frigging iPod?  Do we really need to gather around you in half-circle and watch you play Every fucking Rose acoustically a-goddamned-gain?  Oh we do?

Sorry.  My bad.  I guess it’s really important!  Look what it does for some people.  That is one hell of a look on her face.

- He’s “pissed” about the VIPs not hanging out...he’s decided to hold an “old school dance contest” tomorrow and the winner gets “real VIP treatment” WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST WRITE?  I know the words, but I don’t see how they apply or what they mean.  It really feels scripted, I don’t see how that just came into his head.  I mean, if you are him and there are four VIP girls that didn’t hang out late at night with you, is the first thing you think ‘Well, I’ll just hold an old school dance contest!  That’s show those bitches!” WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?

So I’m having a party at the house, with all of you.  You’re all hanging out in my living room/dining room and we’re laughing and drinking and you’re watching me play Bioshock or something, cuz I’m so awesome and kick-ass at it.  So then we notice that...umm...Rann isn’t in the room.  I ask, and someone says he went upstairs an hour ago.  So instead of ‘Hey, anyone check on him to see if he’s OK?” or, maybe, “Hey, go drag his ass downstairs, I’m about to kill Andrew Ryan with a golf club...again!” I calmly and decisively announce that we are going to have an “old school dance contest” because that’ll fucking teach him!

How is that anything but a scripted reaction?

Anyway, he’s “mad” and sending the other girls to eff with the VIPs.  They tell them about the “old school dance off” and Daisy and Destiney’s reaction is fairly similar to mine. “What year is this?” and “Fucking kiss my ass.” I certainly understand where they’re coming from.  Commercial.

- OH MY GOD THE CHICKS THAT WENT TO BED EARLY ARE SLEEPING IN THE MORNING LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!  Ominous music sounds.  Big John tells them that VIPs are not protected and if something is happening they need to put in an appearance.

HOLY fuck she’s an entirely different human being without all that shit on her face.  Someone take her makeup case away.

- A new shitfuckminderasemakemedumber poem from Bret telling the winners to get ready for their date.  They leave and Chazz is torqued.  She needs to explain that she was exhausted and trying to get her beauty sleep, and then she said, and I quote “I was just trying to be hotter for him, if that’s possible.”

Ok.  That’s it.  I want her dead, I want her family dead, if she has a little yappy dog I want it dead too.  I cannot go forward knowing that someone this fucking bubbleheaded is dragging down the national IQ.  Megan. Must. Die.

So the sleeping bitches decide to make a card for him.  Sure.  That;s the first fucking spontaneous idea that would come to the brain of a bubblehead like Chazz.  A fucking card.  That’s not in any way a written bit from the production crew.  And the fact that there is poster board, glitter, glue, markers and probably a goddamned easel won’t be a setup either.  Doesn’t every rock & roll mansion have a crafts room?

- Cut to the date: four-wheelin’.  Bret makes his usual douche entrance by speeding up over the crest of a tiny little hill and unveiling his bandanna covered head.  Then he does a commercial for California somefuck Motor something, the idiots that supplied the quad-runners.  he picked ATVs because he thnks they make people want to fuck.

YOU ARE OVERDOING THE WHOLE “I’M A HORNY ROCK STAR, LOOK AT HOW VORACIOUS MY LIBIDO IS!” Seriously.  No one makes this make sex jokes about every fucking little fucking motherfucking thing they do, you big bald douchebag.  Bret Michaels is a balding douchebag.  I’m a lot of things, and people can find a million reasons to mock me, but i will die someday, and on my death bed, i swear to you, my last words, or near to my last, will be “At least I wasn’t a douchebag like Bret Michaels.”

Also, he did the robot.  Like the dance.

They rode them, and the ladies drove as well as anyone else.  Hombre took to it pretty well.  Oh look, Ambre has yet another connection to Bret!  Oh my, what a strange and wonderful coincidence!

- Cut back to the house; SCARY RUSSIAN BROAD and Silica are going to organize the “old school dance contest” since no one else is.  Whatevs.  Meanwhile, on the set of Martha Whore Living, Superworms, Five Head and Chazz are creating a tea cozy out of old maxi pads and an unused chastity belt.  Or they’re crafting a “card” out of “stuff they found in their room.” Yeah.  I believe that.

- Cut to the date.  Lunch, and douche is complimenting Sequel.  He’s bonding with her and Daisy over music and Hombre is left out.  Oh wait, the scripts calls for him to bond with her too, so now we’re doing that.  Oh look, they drove over to a picnic area.  He’s asking her what she’s into.  He’s feeding her questions and she’s acting like she likes him, then they bring up the “I almost let her go” thing again.  For fuc’s sak////what am I, stupid? 

1. The pre-setup picnic area.
2. His utterly disinterested fake tone when feeding her cues asking her questions
3. Her remarkably bad acting - it wasn’t her seven year relationship that stifled her career, it’s her shitatstic “talent.”
4. The constant referencing of how she almost got thrown off
5. His stupid fucking joke about how she;s the best kisser and he got “movement.” In his pants, see.  that;s another one of Bret’s really, really funny jokes that lets you know he’s a horny rock star who gets more ass than a toilet seat.  isn’t he wonderful?  All the ladies want to fuck him and all the men want to be him! 

Or puke on him.  I get those things mixed up.

- back to the house.  The VIPs got all whored up and are sitting in front of the door with their card.  SCARY RUSSIAN BROAD decides this is offensive.  Her and Silica get all whored up and this make Superworms all sorts of upset.  ‘They’re like, copying us.”

OHMIGAWD!  They’s so totally like, bitches or whatever?  And like, complete skanks or whatever.  We’re like, totally awesome and classy or whatever?  And Bret’s gonna want to marry us all or whatever!  You spell merry with an O, right?  Not like that totally dumb girl Korie or whatever, We spell it good.

- Date: Hombre and Douche are done playing make believe.  No one else got alone time, so the whole setup looks even more fake.

- House: The competition to be the most childish whore EVER heats up.  The first whores...hey, if the three of them keep hanging out, that is totally their team name: The First Whores.  Anyway, they get chairs and put them directly in front of the door.  SCARY RUSSIAN BROAD and Angelique get chairs and put them in front of theirs, closer to the door.  At this point, I expect Angelique to put her chair down at the end of the driveway and sit there doing the V For Vagina two-finger spread pose.  Commercial.

OH Sweet fuck.  VH1 plays these bumpers in between breaks for reality shows.  In this one, Bret is wearing one unbelievable wig.  When I say “unbelievable” I mean “something that you cannot believe,” not just an exclamatory adjective.  I mean it literally.  Who the fuck does he think he’s fooling?  He’s got Kevin Dubrow syndrome.

If only Bret would die of a cocaine overdose.

Was that going too far?

- House: Shit is getting tense in front of the door.  SCARY RUSSIAN BROAD is all “Shut the fuck up.” Douche comes in.  SRB and Silica fawn over him and then for no reason whatsoever, leave the room, so that the next scripted moment can happen.  This is so much more scripted than last year.  It’s almost unwatchable.  So the broads give him the card.  It’s “awesome.” Awesome-ometer; 3.  Taking it easy on the “awesomes” in favor of seventy-three thousand jokes about doing “it,” Douchebag?

- No.  I will not comment on how he said “These girls are taking the bull (douchebag hand gesture of stroking a cock) by the horn.” FUCK.  I just did.  DAMN YOU BRET MICHAELS.

- Inna is judging the “old school dance contest.” Bret forgot about the “old school dance contest.” Bret will be watching the “old school dance contest” while wearing his shit-tacular “American Outlaw” hat.  Dude, that thing must REEK of wig glue.

Oh yeah, we were talking about the “old school dance contest.” See, the reason I keep typing “old school dance contest” is because HE KEEPS SAYING IT.  The producers wrote down old school dances on slips of paper.  Like “the robot and “running man.” Oh for fuck’s sake.  The winner gets a pass that lets them chuck another girl the hell out of there in any situation and take her place, basically.  Under the rules he gave, he could be on a date, and a pass holder can make him chuck the girl on the date and take her place.  Such a writing ploy.

- Oh, hey!  Roxy is still on the show.  also, SRB and Silica get to control who wins.  Do they not get to win the passes then?  Seems like it would be an important thing to win if it was real.

- Vamps gets “the shopping cart.” I don’t even know what that is.  KayJay got The Worm.  She moves like she has a rod up her ass.  he of course confessionals a stupid joke about her breasts, trying to be oversexed again.  Seriously, this is just pathetic now.  Chazz got moonwalking.  She shuffled backward.  At least she knew it was supposed to go backwards.  Korie got “the hammer.” What the fuck?  We also see the lawnmower, the cabbage patch (I remember that one) the robot, the funky chicken, the running man, the pony, (Daisy got an awesome - Awesome-ometer: 4!) and then they go to decide, aka “say the stuff the writers gave us.” I have no idea what the fuck happened.  I think that, because of the nationalities of the two judges, Bret made a “non-binding resolution” joke, except this is actually binding, so the fucking joke doesn’t work.

Roxy, Superworms and Daisy win.

- Elimination time.  Silica is confident.  of course you will stay.  You’re a frightening monster who is willing to play a total bitch on camera!  You are a shoo-in to make the final four.  Commercial.

- Back.  Ladies are lined up like hookers in the front parlor of a whorehouse.  Which is pretty goddamned accurate, actually.

- Douche is again, dressed fairly nicely.  Stylist!  White shirt, matching white bandanna, super sweet wig.  Totally sweet and thick with a sheen like the soft hind end of a pale horse.  Oddly enough, that’s were they got the wig hair, so it all works out.

- Something has been bothering The Douche.  Oh look, it’s the Sara thing!  What. A. Surprise.  Bret calls her out, and she tries to backpedal.  Inna goes apeshit and calls her out as a liar.  She kinda is.  Inna’s still a bitch.  or, playing a bitch I should say.

So Douche stops the yelling, calls Sara down and gives her the boot.  Hey, look!  He found a reason to kick out a non-white girl!  Two down, one to go!

- Inna gets the first pass.  Holy shit on a stick.  Does VH1 broadcast in high def?  Because if they do, this must be one scary broad at 1080p.

You know what’s weird?  Inna’s a white girl.  Why is her face the same color as Sara’s at elimination?  Did they hire Helen Keller to do makeup?

- Sequel gets a pass.  Hombre gets one too, and YET AGAIN he brings up that she almost left and YET AGAIN she brings up the “connection.” Superworms gets the next pass.  Chazz too.  Awesome-ometer: 5.  Daisy, Roxy, Jessica, KayJay (she makes a funny.  Sorta.  “Will you stay and blah blah blah” she said “No.” Then laughed.  ha. Ha.)

- Catherine gets a pass.  Told you, she’ll be here until around 7 or 8 left, then get the boot with a big speech about how wonderful she is.  Catherine is a stand-in for the upper end of Bret’s aging fanbase.

- Vamps gets a pass!  Phew!  I thought yet another broad I gave a nickname to would be leaving.

- Korie, Niki and Silica left, I think we all know who is staying.  Commercial.

- Back.  Wow, Douche went heavy on the guyliner. 

- Hey, shocker, Angelique stays.  OH MY.  The kiss thing.  Oh my god.  She tried to tongue kiss Bret with those dead things on her face, and the tongue coming out and VH1 actually taped a close-up of her mouth-hole

Christ.

- Douche says goodbye to Niki.  Same shit.  “If this was a different time, blah blah blah.” Hire new writers, dude.  he says goodbye to Korie, who confessionals that she was the best girl in the house.  By best, did she mean “second dumbest next to Megan?”

- Scene from the next: Lacey, bitches, in some roller derby.  Also, KayJay gets painted as the lying bitch and drama at eliminations.  KayJay, if you get kicked off the show this early, you will NEVER get Playboy Cybergirl of the Month!

OK, we’re done.  There’s three hours we’ll never get back.  See you next week!

Less

- We broke yesterday at the 30 minute mark.  Bret had just finished up his “VIP time” (sweet merciful Minerva that just sounds so fucking douchey).  Now it’s time for the rest of them to mingle.  Big John: “The rest of you have one hour.  There will be an elimination tonight, so get at it.” Yeah whores!  Throw your meatflaps on the glass, bitches!  Time to bag you a sugar daddy.

- Angelique (Silica, that’s the new and final name for her) is aggressive...wait.  WAIT.  STOP.  Hold the fucking phone.  As I was formulating some kind of new insult for Silica, Douche McFuckingCocksuckingDickragDouchefuck drops the “knowledge” replete with hand gesture.  “All the girls bombarded me but you know what? One of the things you do when you take rock & roll 101 training is to handle bombardment.  Bombardment and rock & roll go (douchebag hand gesture of bringing his hands together and intertwining his fingers, coupled with super serious look of pure douche concentration on his face) hand in hand.”

It’s like someone made a new Massengil fragrance: Cheesy Cheddar Douche.

- Roxy pulls him away and hops in his lap.  She’s laying the “I’ll do anything” vibe on him.  She gets maybe eleven seconds before more girls show up and try to pile on his lap.

- Off to the side, we have the wallflower/nice girl crew forming.  Ambre, Kristy Joe, some ugly chick (I know, that really narrows it down) the “fat brown girl” (sorry, she said it and now it’s the only thing I can remember about her.  Dunno her name yet) and the cross-eyed, five-headed one.  There might have been a couple more.  Superstar Molly Shannon-alike, someone else, the old one.  These are the non-slut whores.  They’re just emotional and reputation whores, not actual physical streetwalking, fuck-ya-for-a-fiver whores.

- Catherine admits she’s 45.  Nailed it. She looks exactly that old, maybe five years older.  To her credit, she flat-out said it, so it’s not like she’s lying or anything.  Bret will keep her just long enough to not anger his older fans.  So she’s having a Rodeo-type conversation with him about kids when Silica invades...ok, here’s the thing.  he was CLEARLY aggravated with her pulling her “We need to talk to Bret now, you’ve had him for five minutes” nonsense.  He reacted to her with that barely-disguised annoyance that he used on Ms. “Don’t threaten me with a good time” from last season.  “Gimme two seconds.” But then he does a douchebag confessional where he says that “Frenchy’s” (his name for her) neediness turns him on in “some sick way.” Why does he do that?  Why does he feel the need to make himself into a bigger fucking dickbag than he already is?  There’s no need to compound the douchery.  It’s like his dial is set at megadouche as it is.  And yet, I feel like he can attain hereto untold levels of pure dickbaggery.

- One of the chicks is in her bra & panties, tryng to mount Bret, and Kristy Joe mentions she won’t strip off and throw herself at him.  But, she does playboy.  GOOGLE HERE I COME.  The following links are Not Safe For Work:  Kristy Joe 1 - A few more from that shoot - Kristy Joe with lighter hair.

Smoking bod.  Clearly here for the publicity.

- We see one of the shy girls kiss him on the cheek for 0.000064 nanoseconds.  It elicits another awesome.  Awesome-ometer: 8.

- Inna pulls out the “daddy issues” speech.  Oh, she’s the one in her underwear.  Kristy Joe says she;s not used to chasing guys and she’s got no game...and to illustrate that, Bret closes the door in her face.  Commercial.

You know, I would never close the door on a woman that fine.

- Moving inside, Bret is chatting with Jackye.  Mostly due to her stupid name, I want to call her Sockeye.  She doesn’t look *that* much like a salmon.  Well, OK, a little.  There is also an element of personal experience at play here.  I know that full-blooded Italian girls are often..."fragrant." Let’s just leave it at that and call her Sockeye.  Anyway, he’s talking with Niki and Sockeye.  As it turns out, Niki is shy and doesn’t really look like Molly Shannon in this light.  She’s actually kind of pretty.  Not gonna make it in this house, but whatever.

Oh and Douche is all “We could have a great fuck one night.  What makes us go beyond that?” Not being a total cock?

- Courtney (Fat Brown Girl) is fucking blotto.  She’s apparently been at the whiskey all night.  Ambre (who seems like a nice person but spells her name like an idiot, so she’s now known as Hombre) has decided to be her babysitter.  Courtney’s one of those “I’m fat annni’m ugly, issh okay, ish ogay” drunks. 

- Kristy Joe and Missi have been paired off all night...they finally track down Douche and once again he walks away.  This time he has to pee.  He gets distracted by Sockeye poledancing.  meanwhile, Missi and Kristy Joe and sitting on this couch, waiting for Douche to come out of the bathroom.  Which will never happen, because he’s playing rock star and watching Sockeye dance.  Poor kids.  Luckily Big John directs Bret back to them.  Aren’t they lucky!

In all seriousness, HOW THE FUCK DO YOU FORGET THAT A STUNNING PLAYBOY MODEL IS WAITING FOR YOU TO FINISH PISSING, AND INSTEAD GET DISTRACTED BY A WOMAN SO AVERAGE HER NICKNAME IN HIGH SCHOOL WAS FIVE?  Jesus Everloving fuck.  Then, because Bret Michaels is a douchebag, he confessionals this priceless gem: “There’s something about Kristy Joe’s cold personality that just wants me to find out what she’s about.”

Now if he stopped there, I could totally understand.  I kind of dig her ice queen act too.  Plus...I mean...did you see her?  But nope...Bret cannot leave it at anything like an intelligent comment.  he’s set his phasers on douchekill.  He finishes the thought with “Plus I want to massively suck her face.”

Really?  “Suck her face?” What are we thirteen?  Why am I even surprised anymore when he says this shit?  He basically blows them off, BTW.  Kristy Joe doesn’t want to kiss him, and they’re playing it in editing like she’s a freak who requires a clean room.  What woman in her right mind would want to make out with Bret after he’s throat-fucked an army of skeezers?  Another skeezer, that;s who.

Not only is Kristy Joe hot as balls, but I think she;s maybe the only semi-intelligent one here.  Bret’s mouth is a cesspool of supervirii and mega-bacteria by now.  I’d think these ladies would want to hit that shit with some Toilet Duck or something before they kiss him, but so far, KayJay is the only smart - and safe - one.  We may be looking at the Jes of this season.  RUN!  I TRIED TO TELL JES, BUT SHE WOULDN’T LISTEN!  RUN AWAY!  GO!  NOW!

- Douche macks on Jessica, who is going to ”make him get to know me.” OK then.  You go right ahead, sister.  Get in line, and when you are done, here’s the number for a couple of local clinics you’re going to want to visit.  Yep...tongue-kissing.  She’s like 14 or 18 tonight.

- Holy fuck, Courtney is passed the fuck out.  Seriously.  Passed out, like draw-on-her-face-in-sharpie passed out.  Doh.

- John tells everyone to get ready for eliminations.  Apparently they got Courtney up.  She’s trying to find an outfit..."Am I ugly or do I need to go home?” Oh Jesus.  Nothing like a little self-esteem to attract a man, eh?  Maybe I’m just a prick, or as I get older I don’t give a fuck anymore, but that immediately makes me think that if I were the guy here, I’d just cut her ass with the quickness.  Not for being a drunk.  For being a “poor me” drunk.

She can’t stand up...two other girls are trying to help her.  EVS.  Cut her.

- Fifteen beds, 20 girls.  Everyone all worried.  Look, it’s simple; the closer he got to your vagina tonight, the more likely it is that you will be staying.  You can guarantee a bed by slapping yoru meaty lips on his arm or something.  Splorch.  Oh look, a wacky wallwalker!

Courtney is too drunk to go to eliminations.

- Jesus fuck Christ, I didn’t even notice it before.  The Hollywood Taxi is parked in the main hallway that Douche comes down to leave...I guess his bedroom?  I swear to God I want to firebomb that goddamned bike now.  WE GET IT, BRET.  WE FUCKING GET IT.

Wig’s looking so fine, by the way.  And they hired a stylist, because he’s dressed well in an all-black suit.  Bandanna, of course.

- Elimination starts.  Puff-face notices that Courtney is missing.  They move on.  First pass if for: Chazz (Megan).  Duh.  There’s a fucking surprise.  He’s so going to bang her eighty times before this show is over.  Awesome-ometer: 9 Inna hates her.  I’d be scared.

Daisy gets the next one, and he calls her his sex kitten.  I’m so bored with his ridiculousness I don’t have a joke for that.  Superworms (Destiney) gets the next one.  Vamps (Aubry) gets the next one, which breaks the VIP string, as ETBPR™ has not received one yet.  Maybe he sent a notice to her Myspace.  He’s doing that “will you stay and rock my world” shit again.  Peyton gets the next pass.  Wow, she’s actually scary looking up close.  What the fuck was I thinking when I said she was okay-looking? 

Inna, Korie, Jessica, Roxy, and Sara get the next five rapid-fire.  Then we pause for a little speech how he “just likes this person” as he keeps Catherine.  KayJay calls her “old.” Yeah, she is, but sometimes these old broads get his number.  “Are you really into that?” Did you not see Heather?  We called her Stripper Grandma for a reason, nudiegirl.  Awesome-ometer hits 10 as KayJay gets a pass.  Douche wants her to get over her germ thing...if you bathe in bleach, maybe.  Chazz confessionals that this all seems weird and KayJay isn’t here for Bret.  I totally agree.  she’s here to further her Playboy career and maybe get centerfold out of this.

- Shygirl Niki gets a pass.  Silica gets a pass.  Douche “felt a spiritual connection when you took your shirt off.” *sigh* Daisy confessionals this: “Angelique, bless her heart, but I mean come on...are you serious?  I mean...seriously.” I so totally agree with that.  100% for the reals.  Angelique?  Seriously?  Why not just get a Real Doll and call it Angelique?  How would you tell the difference?

- One pass left.  We have Erin, Hombre, Courtney (sort of) Missi, Sockeye, and someone I don’t recognize.  Oh, it;s Ashley.  She;s fuckin’ memorable.  :) I don’t even know if that’s everyone, and I can’t be fucked to care, either.  They promo some kind of dramatic weirdness next, which makes Douche throw the remaining pass on the ground.  Commercial.

- Back, and Douche starts in on how he hates to let people go, yadda yadda.  The tension mounts.  Wait, no, that’s a fart.  Hang on.  OK, tension relieved.  The last person is going to be his “party buddy” (read: fuck towel) and it’s.........Sockeye!  Hooray for wild fish vagina.  This makes her the Brandi M. of this season.

- Oh shit...Sockeye tells him that before he got out there, she wanted to go home.  Anxiety and all that.  Then she says that seeing him now, she wants to stay.  WHATEVER.  There’s always one, isn’t there?  Honey, I told you, slap the cooze right on his thigh.  G’head!  Whip down your panties, if you stopped long enough to put any on, and slap that beefy taco right on his leg!  Leave an Italian vag slime trail down his Italian slacks, baby girl!

Well, that doesn’t happen.  He makes her re-decide if she really wants to stay, since if she stays, he might lose the chance to get near some other whore’s pussy...and she leaves so he can get some fresh ass.  Aww!  I gave her a nickname and everything.  Bye bye, Sockeye.  Oh yeah, Awesome-ometer; 11.

- So he flips Sockeye’s pass on the ground and says “I’ve got room for one more.”

Jesus.

First of all, you have to either be using this show for your career or have the lowest sense of self on earth to put up with this kind of reality dating shit.  But to sit there and have to be EXCITED that Fatface Michaels, oh He of the Extra Pancake Makeup had decided that although you weren’t good enough to make it, if you are really lucky and eat your peas and say your prayers, he might deign to keep your unworthy ass around another week.  “Now, five minutes ago, all you whore cunts were unworthy of my time, and I was literally throwing your nasty asses out on the street like so much garbage.  But, one of the whores I picked was mental, so now, I can keep one of you bitches around another week.  Aint you the fucking lucky ones?” He didn’t say that, but he may as well have.

Something Donna noticed; he was all “I’m not going to say your tour ends here” to Jackye.  He said they made a connection, they would stay friends.  One microsocond after she was out of sight, he threw her pass on the ground with disdain.

Yeah.  Some friend.  Bret Michaels is...I bet you can’t guess...ok, you got me; a douchebag. Bret Michaels is a douchebag.

I really wish whoever he picks next would tell him to go fuck himself.

- The pass goes to; Commercial.

- Back, and this could not end soon enough for me.  I’m actually angry with Douche right now.  Again.  Shocker, right?  ;) Anyway, Hombre gets it.

- Missi, Erin, Ashley, all go home.  Does Courtney go too?  Will they stretcher her out tonight?  Bring her to an emergency room?  Dump her by the side of the 405? So dramatic and stuffs.  Oh shit!  On the way out, Missi scores; “Is Nikki Sixx available?” Heh.  Good for her.  Even if she does have a bit of the crazyeye going.  :)

- ETBPR™ gets some sappy speech from Douche as she leaves.  Silica does a confessional where she mutters something about beauty and Bret looking for “more than (points to her own face) just a pretty face.”

WHAT THE COCK IS THAT SHIT?  Where’s the pretty face?  I see the goddamned Cloverfield monster.  Fake cheeks, nose, eyes, horrifying lips...she looks like a playdough woman that was left on the back deck of a hot car.

- Erin thinks that America will feel like Bret made the wrong decision.  Uhh, no we won’t.  I know you think that your Myspace is the center of the fucking universe, and every comment you get probably reinforces that, but one day you will grow up, sweetie, and you will learn that the world does not revolve around you, what you think or if you are alive or dead.  No one cares.  Trust me.  By the time you are 30, you’ll know; the world doesn’t even notice when you stop contributing.

- They are keeping Courtney for the night, but Bret tells the girls that when she wakes up, someone tell her that her tour has ended.  Nice guy.  all class, is Bret Michaels.  They open those ridiculous Bret-labeled beers and he does his “Ready to rock this house” thing again.  he’s so fucking...douchey.

Then we get the “this year on RoL” mahwn-tahge Guess who’s back?  Back again.  Lacey’s back.  Fucking run and hide.  Wait, that doesn’t rhyme.  Seriously, Red Cuntya?  Really?  Like I believe for one millisecond that Bret has kept in touch and really wanted her back?  Like I don’t know VH1 is bringing the bitch back?  I swear to fuck, if they play that Elton John song I will kill seventy-three people and blame it on Poison’s devil music. Oh, and Heather and Rodeo are back as well.  Drama, titties, you know the drill.  Fights, all kinds of stupid shit.  Stick around.

Unfortunately, I will.

Less

- Douche rolls up.  Not on the Hollywood Taxi, a show element used (overused?) in the first season...no, this time he’s got a proper cock replacement sports car.  Looks like a Ferrarri from the quick shot.

- “...that bitch goddess I call rock and roll.” OH fuck you.  The douche factor just went from 0 to 60 faster than that prancing horse.

- A mahwn-tahge recap of season 1, an intro of a “bigger, better mansion” and Big John, and then into the just fucking awful theme song.  I’m feeling the old hatred bubbling up.  Dear God I dislike this man.

- OK, FOR FUCK’S SAKE STOP SHOWING HIM DRIVING THE CAR.  We get it, he has a red ferrarri.

- First girl is actually a reality veteran...Megan was on Beauty & The Geek.  She’s “drawn to Bret like a nun to a convent.” First of all, WTF?  Second of all, liar.  You are drawn to reality TV you whore.  By the way, she’s the Brandi C. of the new season.  Wes, you were right on the money.

- Second “lady” is Peyton.  Bit of a whiskey voice, and she looks like maybe she’s downed a few in her lifetime.  Rough edges is what I’m trying to say.  Not a bad looking woman, just...rough.  Not sure who she is yet, but she reminds me of both Rodeo and Red Cuntya.

- Next we meet SCARY RUSSIAN BROAD.  In Soviet Russia, girl picks up you!  Literally.  This is...a strong-looking woman.  Not sure why she’s on this show, she seems better suited for American Gladiators.

- Destiney.  No, I didn’t spell that wrong.  SHE did.  “I’m bisexual.” And a coked-out stripper whore who learned how to put on makeup from a guy that just graduated clown college.

- Oh Christ.  Imagine it...A hot California summer day, the sun beaming down ever so brightly, not a cloud in the sky.  The camera is inside a gated driveway.  The motor clunks into motion and the gate draws back slowly to reveal...Bret with his headlights on for dramatic effect.  Unless Ferrarri has made daytime driving lights standard...in which case *I’m* the big douchebag here.

- Daisy gets a moment next.  The car made her hot.  Or nervous.  Or something.  I bet it’s a rental.

- Ambre.  Again, not a spelling mistake on my part. Bret takes her breath away.

- “Are we ready to rock this house?” I dunno, are you ready to get another fucking catchphrase, Douchehole?  How fucking hard can it be to think up things that play on the word “rock?” I know there’s a writers strike and all, but fuck, man…

- “We had a lot of rock of like, a ton of rock of lust but very very little rock of love.” OHMIGAWD I HATE HIM.  I WANT TO KICK HIS FACE IN WITH A STEEL TOE BOOT.  I want to start a new punk rock movement just to rebel against his fucking musical style in an effort to make certain that no one will ever mistake me for a Bret Michaels fan.  He makes me hate the 80s.

- “Awesome” number one!  So of course he has to tell us his douche-losophy (yeah, that’s a word now) in regards to what he’s looking for; hot.  His exact words were, emphasized, I might add: “physical attraction.” Then, after a dramatic pause he listed some other qualities.  Nice to see he hasn’t learned a goddamned thing from last season!  He then invites the ladies to get “completely naked” and have an awesome party.  Awesome number 2, AND!  AND!  AND!  We get our first “Ahwhassagoinawhn.” That saying is, with the exception of letting that poor woman tattoo his name on her neck last year, his single douchiest thing.  every time he says it, my skin crawls and my soul dies just a little bit.

AWESOME-ometer: 2.  Ahwhassagoinawhn-ometer: 1.

I can hardly believe this.  4 minutes in and he hasn’t mentioned diabetes or his kids!

- Big John lays down the ground rules like last year.  Same rules.

- We meet another girl...Kristy Joe.  She’s the first legitimately pretty girl we’ve seen so far.  WAAAAAAAAAY too much makeup in the “live action” part where she’s meeting bret.  Much better in her confessional where she’s wearing less.

- Aww!  Big John isn’t getting to kick five whores the fuck out...oh wait, Douche is making the cut.  He’s telling certain girls to “hang.” One of them is new...Erin, one of the black girls.  Erin is the “punk black girl” one from Central Casting.  You know the one..."Look, we hired a black girl...but she loves punk and is acceptable to white people!  Aren’t we good progressive people?” I hate reality producers.  Anyway....basically Bret’s like “Big John’s gonna talk to you and I’ll...(douche pause)...see you later.” Oh for fuck’s sake, like we don’t know they’re getting in.

- We meet Aubry, who is thrilled and relieved that she made it in the house.  Guess what, Aubs?  You’d be the big winner if you got cut.  Unless you are already carrying herpes and chlamydia.  In which case welcome to the house.

- Korie is going straight for the bar.  Yes.  Korie.  If these aren’t stripper names I will eat my own ass.

- The four chosen to “hang” are the VIPs.  This is so fucking stupid.  They’re not especially attractive.  He doesn’t know them in any way.  They were obviously picked by the producers for some stupid fucking reason.  They get a special suite and shit...GEE, WILL THIS CAUSE CONFLICT IN THE HOUSE?

I think I’m losing my patience for reality TV at large.  I am so fed up with the stupid tricks and manipulations.  Just throw these cock-and-fame-hungry whorebuckets into a house and then them claw and scratch and ooze coochie juice all over the place like sap from a maple until Bret decides one of them is stupid and fug enough to turn his crank!  We don’t need the bullshit.

- AAAaaannnnd so it starts.  All the bitches are mad at the other bitches.  One of them said “Step up your game.” Oh for fuck’s....VH1, I AM NOT A RETARD.  Wait.  I’m watching this.  And detailing every moment of it for your enjoyment.

I take that back.  I am a retard.  Commercial.

- Destiney decides to “rock the stripper pole” in her shoes, purchased expressly for the pole.  Does that make her a stupid whore, or a whorey idiot?  Hard to decide.  Six of one, half-dozen of the other.  Also, her mouth sort of looks like those red wax lips you used to get when you were a kid.  Or maybe like two dead superworms.

- Angelique take a run at the pole.  How can I put this?  Imagine a super-hot Polish model.  Say, Paulina Porizkova.  Now make every one of her feminine features a total mockery of what feminine parts are.  An almost comic-book exaggeration of female secondary sex characteristics.  Now, give her a husky tranny voice and a ridiculous “Boris and Natasha” accent.  Oh, and inflate her lips and extra 45% from whatever you imagined, because Angelique’s lips makes Destiney’s lips look like Kenneth Branagh’s lips.  She’s not even human anymore.  She’s got to be at least 65% silicone.  By the way, Silicone can’t strip, she sort of went headfirst into the ground.

- Oh christ...photo time again.  Really?  Just the exact same shit from last year?  When can we expect the date at the western-themed steak house, or the tattoo parlor outing?

- Finally, we get to hear from Catherine.  Catherine is O.L.D.  Whatever she’s telling the producers?  Add ten.  or twenty.  She’s not ugly, or worn out, but her personal style is frozen in a weird blend of 60s and 80’s-retro-60s.  Maybe people don’t remember, but at the end of the 80s, right before grunge and hip-hop dominated the fashion world for like, eleven minutes, there was a 60s retro revival, and this chick is totally frozen in time. 

Bret throws up the horns and does the tongue thing.  Only, like everything he does, it’s not cool or ironic.  It;s just douche.  He means it, and not in the way that an old-school metalhead means it.  He weilds it like some douche-weapon.  No, not a weapon.  Armor.  he throws up the horns as if to ward off the years, and his impending baldness, by declaring “LOOK AT ME, I’M COOL.” Only he;s not.  Fuck you, Bret Michaels.  Fuck you for being such a douchebag.  You killed my puppy...the puppy in my heart.

Also, Awesome-ometer: 3

Anyway, he starts doing the same shit he did last year while taking pictures.  Same patter, same dumb shit.  We meet, in order:

Jackye - she spelled it, not me.  Kind of fug Long Island-looking chick.

Jessica.  Donna thinks she’s pretty.  I think she’s cross-eyed, five-headed and sort of a sorority dime-a-dozen chick.  At least she spells her name normally.

Roxy - Another other black girl to whom he’ll give the boot to as soon as it’s socially acceptable to do so.  She’s really pretty.  One of the few.  The proud.  The chicks Douche McWornOutWhores will never go for.

- Catherine, who showed every day of her 45...maybe 50 years on this planet.

- Sara, another black girl.  Again, I don’t know why they bother, unless it’s for the publicity.  He’ll never pick them.  Mark my words.

- Oh god.  Angelique.  Jesus ever loving jumped up christ on a sidecar, she makes my dick want witness protection.  She’s like the anti-sex.  Five minutes with her and I don’t care how horny you are, you might never want to fuck again.  You know how kind of scary Pam Anderson is now?  And how it’s confusing because back in the day, she was hot like scotch bonnets?  But now you see her and you’re all “Ooh!  Pam!” but then the reality is, she’s worn out, diseased and has fucked three of the dirtiest, most unwashed motherfuckers on earth, so your balls sort of send a signal to your brain that says “NO!  FOR FUCKING FUCK’S SAKE NO!  ABORT!  ABORT!”

Well, Angelique is exactly like that expect no one was ever attracted to her.  She’s like a scary French version of a Pam Anderson sex doll.  Only dumber.

BTW, Douche was with Pammy, but he’s not one of the three.  They are Kid Rock, Rick Solomon and the king of unwashed balls, Tommy Monsterdick Lee.  Why should he wash?  It’s eleventy and a half inches long.  These whores would suck it if it was covered in motor oil.

Anyway...she got naked for him. “The first topless girl for me in life is sort of like a trailblazer.  She;s like a Lewis and Clark.” Would it really be so wrong if I hunted him down and shot him with a special shotgun filled with, oh fuck, I dunno, pages from a dictionary and the brain of someone who was much smarter but died in a car wreck?  Come on.  That should be allowed.

- Daisy, who also took off her top.  She’s sleeved as well, and while I have nothing against women with tattoos, sleeves on women are just fucking awful.  Sorry, inked-up ladies!  Anyone who isn’t trying to bang you will probably tell you the same thing.  Unless they work in a tattoo parlor.

- Peyton is up next.  Now, she keeps her clothes on, but she does every single cliche “web porn” pose there is, in rapid succession.  Don’t be surprised if someone doesn’t unearth her on a porn site or forty in the near future.

- Destiney.  Whatever.

- Inna does a split and humps the floor.  Bret is impressed.  It’s sort of inevitable.  She’s frightening, clearly a whore and a bit ugly so of course he loves her.  Right before this Kristy Joe says she’s not gonna whore herself out like these other girls.  well duh.  You;re actually attractive.  besides, he’ll cut you anyway.  You;re not blonde, older, ugly and a whore with daddy issues.

- Courtney has some broke-ass teefs.  Ouch. Cute though.  She’s not exactly “sexy hot whore stripper” comfortable in this scenario either.  Look for her to hang around as the wallflower who needs to be “brought out of her shell” and then cut.  Like Mia from last year.

- Ashley and her itty bitty titty problem.  Douche says she’s self-conscious in a room full of DDs.  She’s also not wearing nearly enough makeup.  Come on, Ashley!  You need to buy 36 pounds of saline and at least a wheelbarrow full of Mac before you can hang with this crew of elite, refined ladies gutter sluts.

- Missi.  Not sure where the issippi went.  Ba-dum-dum.  You see what I did there?  Like the state.  Anyway...she must not be very interesting.  or they know this segment is running long.  Then Ambre, Niki (who looks like a platinum blonde Molly Shannon after a seven day bender in TJ) and Aubry blow by REALLY fast.  Aubry has the worst set of vampire fangs I’ve ever seen on a woman.  Real, actual fangs, one on each side.  Weird.

- Megan is torqued because Douche is making out with Vampirella.  That’s Aubry, by the way.  She’s got a nickname.  We paused it for a sec so I could comment on sucking face with Vamps and noticed another thing; Douche Michaels has a rockin’ ass wig on this year.  It’s living up to the promise of those publicity shots; so full, thick and lustrous.  Mush more than he had last year, which is weird.  As far as I know, hair on your scalp does not increase in thickness with age.  Bret Michaels might just be a medical miracle here, folks.  QUICK!  Call the Nobel people.  i want my fucking medal for this top-notch research.

So, yeah, Megan, the dippy one from Beauty and the geek is mad or something.  “This old lady is kissing Bret.” Yeah.  Whatever.  And she’s up next.  Douche tries to be all sarky and funny by saying she’s got a horrific body and he “allowed” her to kiss him.  Bret Michaels is almost as funny as prison rape - when it’s not on the Simpsons (and of course a half-season later on Family Guy).

OK, we’re 17 minutes in.  I may have to do this first episode in two parts or something.

- Kristy Joe is next. Douche notices that she’s actually pretty and leans in to kiss her.  She had the “nerve” (read: good sense) to wipe his mouth before kissing him, and he does this douchebag hand gesture - one of about a bajillion to come - of his finger being an erection and then deflating.  DUDE!  You just kissed a woman with vampire horse teeth that aren’t the right color and a complete skank who is on her second reality dating show!  You’re lucky she didn’t throw a handful of ethanol gel on your face and light it!  With the shit you’re carrying, I say we take off and nuke your crotch from orbit.  It’s the only way to be sure.

- The last girl getting photographed is Erin The Black Punk Rocker™.  1. I don’t call her that to mock her, but rather the producers who so clearly have her filling a role here. 2. Her new name shall be ETBPR™.  No, you can’t pronounce it, but this is a fucking blog, so play along.  :)

Awesome-ometer: 5

- Moving on to the next stage of our RoL script; the post-photography drinking binge.  Inna is a one-trick horse.  She’s not really dainty enough to call her a pony.  Girl is thick, is what I’m saying.  Anyway, she does the splits again.  No, that’s not gonna get old really fucking fast or anything.  peyton does that “urban” booty shake arm shake thing that every single woman in every rap video ever does.  It;s fucking scary when they do it and it;s worse when a somewhat thin white girl does it.  NO.  Stop it.  You’re making my penis wish for more Angelique screen time.  AND THAT IS MY WORST NIGHTMARE.  I’d rather dream about Freddy Krueger wanting to finger my asshole.

Actually, I had a dream like that once.  Only Freddy was wearing a priest collar and singing show tunes.  I was raised Catholic after all.

Back to the whores.  Chicks are drinkin, strippin’ off for the pool, lapdancing each other, and so forth.  Whatever.  Commercial.  We’re DEFINITELY breaking at the 30 minute mark and doing this in two parts.

- We’re back at Whore Central.  Courtney is neurotic about being “the fat brown girl.” her words, don’t get all mad at me.  Then Douche sends Big John to call for the VIP cumrags cockbaskets gonorrhea factories ladies.  Aaaaaaannnnd of course the next shot is one of the non VIP cumrags cockbaskets gonorrhea factories ladies getting all upset.  Oh my goodness, such dramatic tension!  Why Ah nevah!  Who could have forseen such strife?

- Awesome-ometer: 6.  Douche meets with the VIPs.  He picks Megan first.  She’s about 60% cute in a California Clone way.  Totally dime-a-dozen face, bolt-on titties, fairly tight body...throw a rock in Los Angeles and you will hit seven women like this, and maybe another fourteen on the deflection.  She’s also about as smart as wood.  Dead wood.  No...sawdust.  That has been baked in a kiln.  The space in her skull normally occupied by a brain is instead filled with Silly Putty.  She is clearly the Brandi C. of this season.  She’s pretending like she’s always been in love with Bret.  Not a fucking chance, dude.  But you probably know that and are just going to score. “I was really drunk making out with him, but I think I had a really good time!”

I shall call her Chazz.  Why?  Because Airheads, that’s why.  Plus, I imagine that’s the sound a syphilitic cock makes when cum comes out.  *chaaaaaazzzzz*.  MMM...syphilis.

To close her her segment, she blondely giggles “I love Bret Michaels.  Me and him for-ever!” I have cooked onions with more intelligence.

- Quick look at the party...they’re doing shots.

- Destiney is next.  She has a gift; a studded bandanna, which is so horrible I have no words.  Right now there is a guy in a brown trailer somewhere in America, his rusty 1979 Camaro parked outside, with a faded ‘Don’t Stop Bellievin’” bumper sticker peeling off the rusty, loosely-attached bumper.  He’s sitting in a 40 year old paisley barc-O-Lounger, drinking a can of Bud, scratching his balls through a 30 year old pair of Levis, wearing an old Journey tour shirt.  He is watching this, and he just turned to his 300 pound wife and said “Holy fuck, Mabel, that is one ugly goddamned bandanna!”

Also, Awesome-ometer: 7.

Oh.  She’s the obsessed fan stereotype.  And Douche used the same line as last year, that she was going to either “make sweet love to me or kill me.” I know we’re all supposed to recycle but this is ridiculous.

Lastly, Destiney wouldn’t be so awful if she didn’t have ridiculous balloon lips and wear more makeup than Marilyn Manson.  Stupidity ruins another almost pretty girl.

- Daisy gets some alone time next.  “It was like fireworks.” She’s on and on about the instant connection she thinks she has with Douche.  So she’s the Heather of this season...only fifteen years younger.  She’s also a “musician.” Oh fuck.  Last time that didn’t work out so well.

- Cut to Inna in the hot tub while Douche is mackin’ on Daisy; she’s drunk. As. Fuck. and ranting.  She hops out of the hot tub and jumps on Bret.  1. Douche is all “Good times ahead” or whatever, but Big John hauls her shit the fuck out of there: “This is VIP time.” Oh, it’s like that?  Really?  You;re just going to telegraph the manipulation this time?  Rock on.

- ETBPR™ is next.  Poor kid.  She’s just getting her time wasted, both by Douche and by the producers of this show. 

OK.  I take it back.  She’s a Myspace dork.  She actually said “I learned HTML through Myspace.” Douche confessionaled that she was putting him to sleep.  Now, at this point I’m still in her corner, until she said, and I quote “like, there’s so many thing going on in the world, and a lot of them I’ve learned about through Myspace, like...”

OH MY FUCKING SWEET FUCK.  Myspace taught you about the world?  Die. In. A. Fire.  and please, for the fucking love of Tom and all that is MySpacey, NEVER VOTE.  Just...buy more clothes or a little yappy dog or something.

Learned about the world through MySpace?  Fuck.  I had such high hopes for this one.

AND I’M BREAKING.  Part 2 will come tomorrow.

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I also have some gifts for you: Christmas babes.You decide your level of involvement: Jennifer Lamiraqui in lingerie, Lucy Pinder topless, Nadia Styles and Ashley Fires giving each other lesbian gifts, and finally a hardcore Christmas party.

*UPDATE*

OMG.  Iga under the tree.  So NSFW.  also, the scariest Christmas image I think I’ve ever seen:

Try dreaming about sugarplums after seeing that.  Merry Hasselstalkermas!

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