Guilty Pleasures

We all have things that we indulge in that we are not all that proud of.

We just don't want to admit that we like certain things.

Whether it's trashy romance novels, the occasional soap opera, or the Spice Girls, we try to keep it under wraps that we are fans.

(No I don't watch soap operas... yes, I will always love the Spice Girls...)

(Girl Power!!)

Well... my guilty pleasure is the awesome, the disgusting, and the truly remarkable reality contest: Rock of Love Bus with Bret Michaels.

(I'd like to say that I enjoy the show because of my background in sociology: it's truly amazing to examine the societal structures and interactions at play on such a show, especially from a liberal feminist perspective... but it'd be a big fat lie...)

Now, don't judge me.

I don't smoke, don't drink, don't take part in illegal substances, and I don't watch American Idol.

I am allowed one vice.

And I choose Bret and his cast of crazy-ass biahtches.

I wasn't even going to post about it, but I can't deny myself this purging of my feelings any longer.

(Plus, Bret was on The Today Show this morning. I figure that if they can talk about it, so can I...)

For those of you who don't know what Rock of Love Bus is, let me quickly fill you in.

Bret Michaels, the lead singer of the eighties hair-band Poison, is in search of his other half. The man just wants someone to share his music, his home, and his mascara with. He wants a woman who is ready to party with him, worship him, and participate in groupie threesomes with him.

Now, the poor guy was not having much luck, so Bret and VH1 teemed up to find him his true love. There have been two seasons, and he has still had no such luck.

(*tear*)

Then, this season, it hit him that he's on the road 300 days a year (where? I have no idea... who goes to a Bret Michaels' concert?), so having these women compete for his love while stuck at home in a mansion must be the problem with the whole reality contest = true love equation.

And so, this season Bret has commandeered two extra tour buses to cart his 20 lovely ladies around the country with him (to really classy and exciting places, like Kentucky and Indiana).

The women will compete for one-on-one dates with Bret, and at the end of each episode, Bret has to say a tearful (/hilarious) goodbye to one or more of them.

So, you may be wondering why the hell I would enjoy this. Ha! So many reasons.

First of all, the women that they find for these shows are mind-blowing. As in they make you want to blow your brains out. The first two seasons had quite a few crazy girls (Lacy), strippers (Heather), and sociopaths (that crazy bitch Megan who really needs to be locked up in some sort of institution).

But this season... these girls are in a league of their own.


Where the hell did VH1 find these creatures? I can only assume that they had to do their casting calls at some sort of convention (for strippers, porn stars, the circus...).

At least 98 percent of them have implants, which wouldn't be that surprising on its own, except that these implants are about the size of pumpkins. I mean, forget cantaloupes and honeydews, these breasts are the size of prize-winning watermelons! Who are these women's doctors?? And how do they stuff these boobs into extra small mini-dresses without busting a seam?

It's truly like watching gravity fail on television.

The amount of silicone, collagen, and hairspray is absolutely outstanding.

The next thing that is amazing about the show is what comes out of these girls’ mouths.

Personal favorites so far (there have only been two episodes):

• One girl said that she got her implants (the size of overweight babies) so that she would be unable to climb walls to do graffiti, and therefore would stay out of jail... This was right before this same girl rapped for Bret, reading the lyrics off of the back of a sheet labeled "Facts About Genital Herpes"...
• A confirmed porn star (Bret has seen her movies) screamed at a black girl that the only reason the black girl was there was because of her race. And then, when the black girl told this porn star that she was, indeed, a racist, the porn star proceeded to cry, "I'm not a racist! My grandfather is black! And he is a big, beautiful black man!" She then went and cried herself to sleep in a bed shaped like a spaceship.
• And finally, when a model (read, Penthouse Pet) said: "I take off my clothes for Penthouse and I'm the classiest one here!" The scary thing is that she was totally right.

You cannot write this stuff! Seriously! Some reality shows (enter, The Hills) are scripted and the scripts aren't even this entertaining!

Finally, the funniest thing (/most depressing thing ever) about this show is how these girls truly believe that what they are doing is finding TRUE LOVE.

They believe that Bret Michaels is their prince, their happily ever after... their soul mate.

Well, ladies, sorry to break it to you, but it just ain't so.

But, you know what? Thank you for giving me hours of entertainment, lots of laughs, and a very long blog post.

Now I have to go... I have a very important appointment with my plastic surgeon.