Rock of Love 2-The Pantieless Stripper Occupation Bitchfest

I don’t know how many people know about my undying devotion to this show but I think the number may be exactly three: Cianna, who I discuss it with every Monday morning and debate over who is a big enough slutstack to win Bret’s heart, my brother who had too much time on his hands last summer when the original ROL aired and Jessi, my dear friend who accidentally walked in on me watching it early this winter and has been kind enough to not overtly judge me for my crap taste in television.

Anyway, the finale was last night. It was a dubitable battle between Daisy, the 25 year old stripper niece of Oscar de la Hoya who Tina Fey was able to parody so brilliantly on SNL a few months ago and my personal favorite, Ambre, who spells her name weirdly, gets confused about whether she is 31 or 37 and has abs that a 16 year old would envy. Ambre won, which was the mature decision for Bret to make, seeing as how she was not 20 years younger than him and her boobs never fell out of her shirt. She was actually a woman rather than a rubberized sack of crazy, like daisy was. I am pretty sure that she turned the tides in her direction when she flashed her pantieless crotch not once but twice at a semi-intimate dinner. This made me think that she was not as classy as I had originally perceived. We’ll see how next week’s reunion goes although we’ve seen that the focus might be less on Bret and Ambre and more on girl on girl violence, as the previews indicate.

I enjoy Rock of Love so much because it is the best distinction between good crazy and bat shit crazy, an important distinction to be sure. Everyone woman participating in the “contest” is obviously off her rocker (no pun intended) but there are those, like Daisy, who truly believe that they are in love with a man who is simultaneously dating 16 other women and that they truly are there for their humor and intellect and not for the oversized saline pillows on their chests. On the flip side, there is the crazy like Kristy Joe, who was my personal favorite. Sure she had restraining orders against both of her ex-husbands, including the one that she had yet to divorce but she also knew that it wasn’t sanitary to kiss Bret after the other women and also, that dressing in classic full-skirted strapless dresses was going to be far more effective than wearing clear plastic stripper shoes and Daisy Duke shorts for 3 weeks straight.

And then, of course, begs the question of Bret Michaels himself. Why does an aging 80’s hair band star who admittedly wears extensions and can’t seem to describe a women with any other phrase other than “Smokin’ hot” warrant a television series and a woman? I can’t put my finger on it, but Bret is likeable. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying out of Rock of Love 3 but I think he’d be a cool dude to drink a 30 rack of Coors one Saturday night. I think that he actually wants more in a woman than the requirements for a stripper and I respect that even as he still gets distracted by those attributes.