Are any of you still watching VH1’s completely ridiculous yet highly addictive Rock of Love with Bret Michaels? Simon posted on it over a month ago, but then PopWatch let it float away into a canned-beer-infused ether, so I thought I’d check in. The show’s just about the trashiest thing going (see Heather, pictured, who just got Bret’s name drilled into her neck with a needle) but every time I see it in my DVR/life partner’s queue, I end up almost excitedly pressing play. I think I just like looking at Jes and Brandi’s pretty eyes and predicting which do-rag Bret will choose to hide his weave underneath that day. That has to be it. Really, there’s nothing else. Well, the rampant cursing is sometimes fun. You can tell they make the women do multiple takes for their confessionals and direct them, “Once more, with the C-word!”
We’re down to the final four already, and my pick for the win is the aforementioned Heather. The exotic dancer from Vegas really seems to “get it.” She also has the benefit of already looking like she lives on a tour bus. And a heinous tattoo she’ll regret
when if she ever sobers up. Go Heather!