Man oh man, those VH1 execs sure have the creative juices a-flowin’ when it comes to their Celebreality TV show titles! Hope they have plenty of tissue around for cleaning up “the spillage”.
What am I saying? Of course they do! It’s “Rock of Love”, after all!
So, I actually missed the first couple of minutes of this week’s episode (stupid laundry), but I don’t think I missed anything important. When I came in, they were reading the “Bret Mail”, so I feel like I might as well just start there.
Bret Michaels basically likes to put these girls through challenges doing various tricks for him… and I’m not talking about the “circus” or “magician” type tricks either. Basically, this is the boot camp for the whore version of the Navy Seals. (The Whore Seals? Doesn’t have that much of a ring to it.)
Anywho, this week’s challenge is to go do a photo shoot for a hypothetical Bret Michaels album cover. (Hypothetical, of course, because your models having visible sores around their kibbles & bits is, to quote the inimitable John Brown, “Not a good look, bro.” Where is that guy nowadays?! HE needs his own Flavor of Love spinoff! Hallelujah, holla back.)
The girls show up at the shoot, and we meet Bret’s trusted photographer, Evo Lopez. I googled to find some of his photography, but I couldn’t find anything via the oracle. I then just typed in www.evolopez.com, but the “Evo” on that site spells it “Ivo”. Then again, growing up in LA I know how people trying to “make it” change their names every time some local starlet gets out of a car flashing her naked cooter to the paparazzi… so that’s like, every 15 minutes or so. Ironic timing, no?
Anyway, “Evo” breaks the girls up into two teams of three. Each team has to select two team members to be the models, and the third girl will be the “creative director” (AKA: skank ringleader). Whichever team wins will have the models go on a double date with Bret, while the creative director gets the (for some inexplicable reason) “coveted” one-on-one time with him.
The first team is Sam, Jes, and Lacey, with Mia, Heather, and Brandi M. on the second team. Seeing my two remaining favorites paired with Lacey was painful to watch. Despite the fact that Jes was the creative director on the team, Lacey pretty much butts in with her own (shitty) opinions on how everything should look because, in her own words, “I’ve been in a band for three years now. This is right up my alley.”
No, sweet cheeks, that would be a gang bang. And, all participants in together would still find your “alley” too roomy for their taste.
While Jes and Sam attempt to work around Lacey’s super-sized ego, Mia has to deal with Lacey’s favorite tag-along, Heather.
First of all, Heather looks more and more like a man to me every episode. Other than the fake titties, she’s built like a line-backer. Second of all, she’s got this delusional impression that she knows what is “sexy”. Every opportunity she gets, she says, “These girls don’t know shit about sexy”, and proceeds to display what the majority of humanity would define not as “sexy”, but rather as the epitome of the “star” of a donkey show.
So, basically Heather and Brandi come up with the brilliant idea that Brandi should dress up like a dude, and Heather should be a slutty whore on the car. (Hey, she does it everywhere else. Why not on a car?)
So, basically Heather and Brandi come up with the brilliant idea that Brandi should dress up like a dude, and Heather should be a slutty whore on the car. (Hey, she does it everywhere else. Why not on a car?)
It hits me at this point that I might have been wrong about Randy – I mean “Brandi”. Last week, I thought she was pretending to be a lesbian to get Bret all excited about her. After her rampage in full male drag, I’m kind of thinking she might be pretending to be into DUDES in order to get attention. I mean, granted I tell people to suck my balls all the time, but I don’t stuff a sock down my pants and proceed to massage myself. She was just a little too into that whole “role-playing” scenario there.
Yeah, you keep living the dream there, Randy.
While the team of Leather and Randy (w/ ol’ “what’s-her-face”) get ready for their drag show, the other team comes up with the clichéd, and therefore sure to please Bret Michaels idea of girl-on-girl action in a bed. Basically, Sam plays the angel, and Lacey (what else?) the devil. (Perfect casting, for the record.)
They then try to come up with an album title. Oh Jimeny Christmas, as an English major and a writer, I knew this was going to be exceptionally painful for me. At one point, the Master’s Degree bound Sam suggests that they put their thesaurus caps on for a moment to think of a synonym for “angel”.
Lacey blurts out, “Goddess! How about goddess?”
*slams head repeatedly at work desk*
SINCE WHEN HAS “GODDESS” BEEN A SYNONYM FOR ANGEL?!?!?!?!?!
Seriously, this show is shaving, like, AT LEAST four years off of my life.
In Lacey’s defense, she’s a goddess in her own mind, and she doesn’t understand why no one else gets that. (Was Medusa a goddess, by the way? I could see her as THAT kind of goddess. Or maybe bat shit crazy Hera. But, Diana she ain’t.)
Anywho, I feel bad because Jes actually comes up with the “winning” album title: “How about, ‘When Love Dances with the Devil’?”
*winces*
Oh man, Jes. You’ve hit me hard. *wheezes* I want to like you SO BAD, girl! You rip on (and beat down) both Heather and Lacey. You don’t let anyone push you around. But, then… you go and say shit like that and… man… you’re making it WAY more difficult than you need to here.
Of course, in case you didn’t catch just exactly how shitty of an album name that is, let me just confirm its suckitude by mentioning that Lacey immediately loves it. Then, when it becomes clear that the team is going to use it, she makes sure to add in her confessional time that the title was one of her (many) ideas. (Believe me, I WISH Lacey could be blamed for that stinker of an album title.)
After picking their (terrible) album title, Lacey and Sam get all skanked out (although I must say Sam looked phuckin’ PHIERCE), and started rolling around on the bed for the photo shoot. Of course, Lacey had to flap her big mouth during the entire shoot with that retarded ass lip piercing making it even harder to understand the already nonsensical gibberish spewing forth from her. Even the photographer was ready to backhand a ho after 15 minutes or so. (Dag-bloody-nabit, I subconsciously rhymed again. Feh, get used to it.)
After the pain that is watching Lacey attempt to be sexy (which is about as sexy as when Hannibal Lecter eats the face off of the prison guard… and oddly reminiscent of that scene, too), we get to see Lacey be even more of a stubborn, selfish bitch as she pretty much shouts over both Jes’s and Sam’s opinions as to which photo to use for the album cover. Granted, I could understand why Lacey would be worried since Sam looked like a “goddess” in just about every shot, while Lacey looked like… well, Hannibal Lecter after he ate that prison guard’s face. (Hey, if the face fits…)
(Yes, I do know I ought to be beaten savagely for that horrible pun. You can all spit on my grave when the time comes.)
Finally, Sam and Jes give up and let Lacey have her way, which I’m not sure as to why they do that. I mean, Sam is like 5’10” and 120 lbs., and even she could wail on Lacey’s ass…
Eh, I guess I understand. It’s the same reason I don’t complain to the post office about my mail carrier’s borderline retardation, even though he’s lost about half of my mail. (That’s seriously not even an exaggeration. I can’t wait until he just so happens to come to deliver the mail at the same time that the ice cream man drives by, so that he’ll run/waddle off into the distance, never to be seen or heard from again. *sigh* A gal can dream, right?)
So, after all of THAT skanky “goodness”, it’s Team Two’s turn to get up there and show them what they’ve got. (Not that they haven’t been doing that for the entire duration of the show already.)
During the shoot, Heather does everything possible sexually to that car other than let the exhaust pipe penetrate her. I mean, seriously ladies and gentleman, the amount of skankdom in this woman would be enough reason for the Taliban to nuke us 50 times over if they ever got the chance. Meanwhile, Brandi puts on her best Butch “act” *snicker*, even commenting afterwards, “Heather looked hot! Hell, I’d have sex with her!”
We know, Randy. We know.
As for their terrible title, Team Two comes up with the slightly less groan-worthy “Broken Road”. Sure, it doesn’t make any bloody sense, but at least it’s not like nails grinding on the chalkboard.
Coincidentally, there’s a famous breakfast place in San Diego called “Broken Yolk”. I wonder if any of the girls were inspired by that restaurant… feh, probably not. I doubt they serve “Eggs Chlamydia” there.
After the photo shoot is mercifully over, we pan back to the house where Heather and Lacey are (what else?) scheming against the other girls in the house. Seriously, at this point I don’t even listen to what the hell they are saying. It just depresses me, making think, “Wow. I’m so glad millions of women got involved in the feminist movement in the 1970’s so that we could devolve into this.” Seriously, how many abortions do you all think the two of these gals have between them?
Meanwhile, Lacey bitches about how she did EVERYTHING for her team, and that she should “win” the solo date with Bret. Every other sentence out of her mouth is, “It’s not fair!”
Little reality check here, Lacey: not winning a single date with Bret Michaels is not even ON the spectrum of justice and fairness on this plane of existence. You know what’s not fair? The fact that the Bush Administration cuts off support to the countries most ravaged by the effects of AIDS if their programs even so much as mention the word “abortion” in passing. You know what’s not fair, Lacey? The fact that according to the statistics of exonerated death row inmates vs. inmates actually put to death, approximately 1 in 10 people on death row are innocent of the crimes that they are there for.
At best, not winning a one-on-one date with Bret Michaels is a mild annoyance akin to coming back from the Laundromat with one sock without a matching counterpart… if that.
Anyway, the girls get their pictures back, along with some comments from Evo regarding the selected shot and their themes. He pretty much tells both teams that they suck ass. Well put.
The two teams go out and present their covers to Bret. (Who, for the record, is too old and too fat to be wearing eye liner. If Jared Leto and Pete Wentz look like emo bitches wearing it, you KNOW you ought not to be working that look.)
While the team of Leather and Randy (w/ ol’ “what’s-her-face”) get ready for their drag show, the other team comes up with the clichéd, and therefore sure to please Bret Michaels idea of girl-on-girl action in a bed. Basically, Sam plays the angel, and Lacey (what else?) the devil. (Perfect casting, for the record.)
They then try to come up with an album title. Oh Jimeny Christmas, as an English major and a writer, I knew this was going to be exceptionally painful for me. At one point, the Master’s Degree bound Sam suggests that they put their thesaurus caps on for a moment to think of a synonym for “angel”.
Lacey blurts out, “Goddess! How about goddess?”
*slams head repeatedly at work desk*
SINCE WHEN HAS “GODDESS” BEEN A SYNONYM FOR ANGEL?!?!?!?!?!
Seriously, this show is shaving, like, AT LEAST four years off of my life.
In Lacey’s defense, she’s a goddess in her own mind, and she doesn’t understand why no one else gets that. (Was Medusa a goddess, by the way? I could see her as THAT kind of goddess. Or maybe bat shit crazy Hera. But, Diana she ain’t.)
Anywho, I feel bad because Jes actually comes up with the “winning” album title: “How about, ‘When Love Dances with the Devil’?”
*winces*
Oh man, Jes. You’ve hit me hard. *wheezes* I want to like you SO BAD, girl! You rip on (and beat down) both Heather and Lacey. You don’t let anyone push you around. But, then… you go and say shit like that and… man… you’re making it WAY more difficult than you need to here.
Of course, in case you didn’t catch just exactly how shitty of an album name that is, let me just confirm its suckitude by mentioning that Lacey immediately loves it. Then, when it becomes clear that the team is going to use it, she makes sure to add in her confessional time that the title was one of her (many) ideas. (Believe me, I WISH Lacey could be blamed for that stinker of an album title.)
After picking their (terrible) album title, Lacey and Sam get all skanked out (although I must say Sam looked phuckin’ PHIERCE), and started rolling around on the bed for the photo shoot. Of course, Lacey had to flap her big mouth during the entire shoot with that retarded ass lip piercing making it even harder to understand the already nonsensical gibberish spewing forth from her. Even the photographer was ready to backhand a ho after 15 minutes or so. (Dag-bloody-nabit, I subconsciously rhymed again. Feh, get used to it.)
After the pain that is watching Lacey attempt to be sexy (which is about as sexy as when Hannibal Lecter eats the face off of the prison guard… and oddly reminiscent of that scene, too), we get to see Lacey be even more of a stubborn, selfish bitch as she pretty much shouts over both Jes’s and Sam’s opinions as to which photo to use for the album cover. Granted, I could understand why Lacey would be worried since Sam looked like a “goddess” in just about every shot, while Lacey looked like… well, Hannibal Lecter after he ate that prison guard’s face. (Hey, if the face fits…)
(Yes, I do know I ought to be beaten savagely for that horrible pun. You can all spit on my grave when the time comes.)
Finally, Sam and Jes give up and let Lacey have her way, which I’m not sure as to why they do that. I mean, Sam is like 5’10” and 120 lbs., and even she could wail on Lacey’s ass…
Eh, I guess I understand. It’s the same reason I don’t complain to the post office about my mail carrier’s borderline retardation, even though he’s lost about half of my mail. (That’s seriously not even an exaggeration. I can’t wait until he just so happens to come to deliver the mail at the same time that the ice cream man drives by, so that he’ll run/waddle off into the distance, never to be seen or heard from again. *sigh* A gal can dream, right?)
So, after all of THAT skanky “goodness”, it’s Team Two’s turn to get up there and show them what they’ve got. (Not that they haven’t been doing that for the entire duration of the show already.)
During the shoot, Heather does everything possible sexually to that car other than let the exhaust pipe penetrate her. I mean, seriously ladies and gentleman, the amount of skankdom in this woman would be enough reason for the Taliban to nuke us 50 times over if they ever got the chance. Meanwhile, Brandi puts on her best Butch “act” *snicker*, even commenting afterwards, “Heather looked hot! Hell, I’d have sex with her!”
We know, Randy. We know.
As for their terrible title, Team Two comes up with the slightly less groan-worthy “Broken Road”. Sure, it doesn’t make any bloody sense, but at least it’s not like nails grinding on the chalkboard.
Coincidentally, there’s a famous breakfast place in San Diego called “Broken Yolk”. I wonder if any of the girls were inspired by that restaurant… feh, probably not. I doubt they serve “Eggs Chlamydia” there.
After the photo shoot is mercifully over, we pan back to the house where Heather and Lacey are (what else?) scheming against the other girls in the house. Seriously, at this point I don’t even listen to what the hell they are saying. It just depresses me, making think, “Wow. I’m so glad millions of women got involved in the feminist movement in the 1970’s so that we could devolve into this.” Seriously, how many abortions do you all think the two of these gals have between them?
Meanwhile, Lacey bitches about how she did EVERYTHING for her team, and that she should “win” the solo date with Bret. Every other sentence out of her mouth is, “It’s not fair!”
Little reality check here, Lacey: not winning a single date with Bret Michaels is not even ON the spectrum of justice and fairness on this plane of existence. You know what’s not fair? The fact that the Bush Administration cuts off support to the countries most ravaged by the effects of AIDS if their programs even so much as mention the word “abortion” in passing. You know what’s not fair, Lacey? The fact that according to the statistics of exonerated death row inmates vs. inmates actually put to death, approximately 1 in 10 people on death row are innocent of the crimes that they are there for.
At best, not winning a one-on-one date with Bret Michaels is a mild annoyance akin to coming back from the Laundromat with one sock without a matching counterpart… if that.
Anyway, the girls get their pictures back, along with some comments from Evo regarding the selected shot and their themes. He pretty much tells both teams that they suck ass. Well put.
The two teams go out and present their covers to Bret. (Who, for the record, is too old and too fat to be wearing eye liner. If Jared Leto and Pete Wentz look like emo bitches wearing it, you KNOW you ought not to be working that look.)
Team Mia, Randy, and Leather go first. Their album cover is this:
Seriously, is there a single straight man out there that thinks Heather looks hot? Is there a single gay man out there ready to proclaim her a divalicious drag queen? *cricket chirps* Anyone?
Exactly.
Evo, little minx that he is, suggests that they are trying to represent Bret in Brandi’s white trash, gray-haired alter ego. They all stumble and swear it’s not. While I believe them, I think Bret should take it as a compliment if they did represent him in that fashion. Seriously, straight ladies and gay men – given the choice, who would you rather have tickle your insides?
This:
Or This:
You know what, after seeing those pics again, I’m going to include lesbians in the voting, as well. Goodness knows those two both look like something you’d find at “The Clamshell” bar.
Personally, I’d take the cyanide pill.
(NOTE: To those not “in the know” the cyanide pill option was created after the Chi Omega girls and I played the “If You Had to, Who Would You Rather Sleep with” game at our friend Beth’s house for a good two hours, and Beth finally threw out, “OK, Osama bin Laden or Saddam Hussein?” It was then that we agreed upon the cyanide pill inclusion clause, but it is ONLY to be used in the case of an emergency.)
I believe this case warrants it.
So, Bret pretty much hates their cover, and Mia gets blamed by everyone for it. I would feel bad for her, but she just takes it like a bad porno flick. Guess girlfriend’s got experience with it.
Time for the team of Jes, Sam, and Lacey to reveal their ho-tastic album cover:
Since this looks like the cover of next month’s “Hustler” magazine, Bret loves it, although he has concerns about this selling in “The Bible Belt”. Yes, Bret, because people in the Bible Belt:
A.) PURCHASE CDs
B.) Listen to anything other than Country, Gospel, and Lynyrd Skynyrd
Even with his concerns, Bret picks the Lacy/Jes/Sam cover. Of course, before they can do anything, Lacey starts whining AGAIN about how it’s so unfair that she doesn’t get a one-on-one date with Bret.
She decides to go into his room and tell him that she did everything on the shoot, and that Jes pretty much only did the make-up. Bret listens, but isn’t convinced.
He then brings Jes is, who tells him Lacey was a controlling bitch, and it was a struggle to get anything done because she was so bossy.
Seriously, Bret LOVES the gossip like no other Celebreality star I’ve seen on VH1. It’s like he’s permanently in Jr. High.
So, after some more scenes of Lacey being a whiny bitch, Bret takes her and Sam out to a restaurant called Neptune’s Net up in Malibu. (A seafood joint -- how appropriate.)
While there, Bret (being the 13-year old girl that he is) asks Sam and Lacey if he thinks Jes did a good job as creative director. Sam actually gets a chance to speak first, and she says that Jes did a good job, and that she was happy with the results.
Lacey, on the other hand, proceeds to go off on how she was responsible for the whole shoot, that Jes is a bitch, blah blah blah. What kills me is at the end of her rant, she says, “So, that’s all I have to say on that. Now, I’m gonna go take a pee.”
Bitch, have you ever watched a reality TV show in your life? You know Bret and Sam are going to talk about your ass the instant you get up to go “take a pee”. (Thanks for being so specific there, by the way. Because, “I’ll be right back” just wouldn’t have gotten your point across, would it?)
Sure enough, Bret asks Sam what she thinks of Lacey’s comments just then. Sam proceeds to lay it all out there about what a fake, maniacal, psychotic, manipulative bitch Lacey is. Bret even admits that he’s starting to see the craziness that EVERYONE ELSE is able to see in the house. Sam points out, “Can you trust that,” to which Bret admits that he can’t. Then, Sam, using the debate skills that the rest of the hoochies are so clearly lacking (except maybe Jes), asks, “Then what are you doing?” A clearly “Pwned” Bret stammers, “Duh, uh, I don’t know.”
Ya think?
Meanwhile, back at the house, Heather and Brandi decide that they’re going to take sexy pictures of each other to prove to Bret that they can put together a hot & skanky photo shoot.
Yeah, gals, I’m pretty sure Bret subscribes to “Shaved Beaver Weekly”, and has therefore seen “your work”. A superfluous photo shoot where you don’t even get free catering served to you isn’t worth your time. Just trying to help y’all out.
It then hits me why I don’t like Brandi. It comes out that she’s a stripper, which she’s been HIDING, apparently. But even more so, she decides to make an alliance with Heather. If that doesn’t make you a dumb whore quicker than dating Kevin Federline, I really don’t know what does.
Pan back to the date, time to put Sam back into the limo and Lacey back into her straight jacket and choke chain, while Jes hops out to go on her “super sexy” date with Bret.
What is a super sexy date? See, what I hear “super sexy” date, I think of getting dressed up in bondage gear, renting out a room at a local dungeon, and doing a little “teacher punishes the naughty school girl” scenario while filming it. Apparently, Bret thinks it consists of taking Jes for a ride on his motorcycle down the Malibu portion of PCH, then taking her to a picnic dinner on a private beach.
Wow, guess I’m just a freak like that. (For the record, Bret’s date does sound like fun, too.)
Lacey, on the other hand, proceeds to go off on how she was responsible for the whole shoot, that Jes is a bitch, blah blah blah. What kills me is at the end of her rant, she says, “So, that’s all I have to say on that. Now, I’m gonna go take a pee.”
Bitch, have you ever watched a reality TV show in your life? You know Bret and Sam are going to talk about your ass the instant you get up to go “take a pee”. (Thanks for being so specific there, by the way. Because, “I’ll be right back” just wouldn’t have gotten your point across, would it?)
Sure enough, Bret asks Sam what she thinks of Lacey’s comments just then. Sam proceeds to lay it all out there about what a fake, maniacal, psychotic, manipulative bitch Lacey is. Bret even admits that he’s starting to see the craziness that EVERYONE ELSE is able to see in the house. Sam points out, “Can you trust that,” to which Bret admits that he can’t. Then, Sam, using the debate skills that the rest of the hoochies are so clearly lacking (except maybe Jes), asks, “Then what are you doing?” A clearly “Pwned” Bret stammers, “Duh, uh, I don’t know.”
Ya think?
Meanwhile, back at the house, Heather and Brandi decide that they’re going to take sexy pictures of each other to prove to Bret that they can put together a hot & skanky photo shoot.
Yeah, gals, I’m pretty sure Bret subscribes to “Shaved Beaver Weekly”, and has therefore seen “your work”. A superfluous photo shoot where you don’t even get free catering served to you isn’t worth your time. Just trying to help y’all out.
It then hits me why I don’t like Brandi. It comes out that she’s a stripper, which she’s been HIDING, apparently. But even more so, she decides to make an alliance with Heather. If that doesn’t make you a dumb whore quicker than dating Kevin Federline, I really don’t know what does.
Pan back to the date, time to put Sam back into the limo and Lacey back into her straight jacket and choke chain, while Jes hops out to go on her “super sexy” date with Bret.
What is a super sexy date? See, what I hear “super sexy” date, I think of getting dressed up in bondage gear, renting out a room at a local dungeon, and doing a little “teacher punishes the naughty school girl” scenario while filming it. Apparently, Bret thinks it consists of taking Jes for a ride on his motorcycle down the Malibu portion of PCH, then taking her to a picnic dinner on a private beach.
Wow, guess I’m just a freak like that. (For the record, Bret’s date does sound like fun, too.)
VOMIT MOMENT OF THE EPISODE: Bret says to the cameras in his confessional time that his beach date went fantastic with Jes, especially because, “We did a lot of sucking face.”
*hurl* I’m so sorry everyone for not only repeating his puke-worthy statement, but for posting that picture. The way I justify this to myself is I’m just helping out all the bulimics in the audience today.
OK, this blog is getting way too long, even by my own admission. Time to cut some corners here… but I’ve GOT to go into detail about the whoriffic photo shoot from Leather & Randy.
OK, this blog is getting way too long, even by my own admission. Time to cut some corners here… but I’ve GOT to go into detail about the whoriffic photo shoot from Leather & Randy.
Here is what apparently passes for “sexy” around the trailer park these days:
She was having a flashbacks to getting busted for her meth lab… the fifth time. That one was AFTER the boob job.
Is she or is she not a DEAD-RINGER for Clementine Johnson on “Reno 911”?! Tell me I’m wrong!
That poor microphone. Bret’s definitely going to have to burn that, now. It’s like shooting a horse to put it out of its misery… the microphone, not Brandi.
I’m surprised the table didn’t collapse.
So, of course Heather goes and posts the Polaroid pictures right on Bret’s bedroom door. As soon as he gets home, he jizzes all over himself, saying, “Why didn’t they take these photos at the photo shoot?!”
Mia comes over and tries to get 5 minutes alone with him since she knows she’s in deep shit, now. Bret doesn’t want to hear it, though, and cops out by saying it’s time for everyone to have dinner together, and she can talk to him there.
So, down at dinner, Lacey starts going off again on her self-righteous animal rights shit, saying that after she learned about what KFC did to their animals, she realized she needed to “make some changes in my life”, and swore never to eat there again.
*sighs* Where to begin with this one…
A.) Lacey, you shouldn’t eat at KFC because it’s FUCKING K-F-C! Why don’t you just dig through some of Heather’s old underwear to get some “crabs” to eat while you’re going to KFC for “chicken”?
B.) I am a vegetarian. It’s not because I’m a PETA psycho who thinks that we got to the top of the food chain to eat twigs. In fact, I LOATHE PETA and their douchey tactics. I’m a vegetarian solely because my health has been the best it has ever been in my life since cutting out all meat and products made from dead animals (i.e. chicken broth, gluten, etc.). That being said, I don’t give a flying crap if someone eats meat in front of me, and I CERTAINLY don’t belittle them for doing so.
Brandi can’t take any more of Lacey’s BS, and leaves the table blaming a “headache”. I don’t even think she’s lying on that one. Bret follows her into her room, and finds her teary eyed on the bed. She tells him that she can’t stand one more minute of Lacey, and is afraid she’s going to hurt her if she stays around much longer.
Now, I wouldn’t CRY over that, but I feel her on not being able to keep herself from violently thrashing the Über bitch that is Lacey. Shoot, I only have to watch her on television for one hour a week, and I’d be hard pressed not build myself a nice little police record should I ever see her in person.
Bret convinces her to stay, just like he’s done with about every other girl in the house thus far.
Gals, on behalf of your collective parents, relatives, and respectable women of the world, I say, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!!! What were you even thinking setting foot in that house in the first place?! What do you “win” in this competition – a chance to be Bret Michaels’ chew toy for a week! You can do that for FREE at any JJ’s Steakhouse, Bar, and Grill across the Bible Belt!” (I hear they love him over there.)
Finally, it’s time for the elimination ceremony. The last two girls standing are Lacey and Mia. At this point, everyone on the planet (other than Leather) is collectively wishing that Bret would send Lacey home. Of course, the syphilis has already taken hold of his mind, and he’s unable to come to a rational decision. While he full on admits that everyone (including himself) thinks that she’s a crazy bitch, he goes on to explain that he loves how she’s “crazy for her man”.
First of all, Bret, you’re not her man. If so, why the hell do you have five other bitches behind her waiting to gobble your nob? Second of all, she’s not “crazy” for YOU. She’s just plain ol’, run of the mill crazy. I mean, look at this face:
Mia comes over and tries to get 5 minutes alone with him since she knows she’s in deep shit, now. Bret doesn’t want to hear it, though, and cops out by saying it’s time for everyone to have dinner together, and she can talk to him there.
So, down at dinner, Lacey starts going off again on her self-righteous animal rights shit, saying that after she learned about what KFC did to their animals, she realized she needed to “make some changes in my life”, and swore never to eat there again.
*sighs* Where to begin with this one…
A.) Lacey, you shouldn’t eat at KFC because it’s FUCKING K-F-C! Why don’t you just dig through some of Heather’s old underwear to get some “crabs” to eat while you’re going to KFC for “chicken”?
B.) I am a vegetarian. It’s not because I’m a PETA psycho who thinks that we got to the top of the food chain to eat twigs. In fact, I LOATHE PETA and their douchey tactics. I’m a vegetarian solely because my health has been the best it has ever been in my life since cutting out all meat and products made from dead animals (i.e. chicken broth, gluten, etc.). That being said, I don’t give a flying crap if someone eats meat in front of me, and I CERTAINLY don’t belittle them for doing so.
Brandi can’t take any more of Lacey’s BS, and leaves the table blaming a “headache”. I don’t even think she’s lying on that one. Bret follows her into her room, and finds her teary eyed on the bed. She tells him that she can’t stand one more minute of Lacey, and is afraid she’s going to hurt her if she stays around much longer.
Now, I wouldn’t CRY over that, but I feel her on not being able to keep herself from violently thrashing the Über bitch that is Lacey. Shoot, I only have to watch her on television for one hour a week, and I’d be hard pressed not build myself a nice little police record should I ever see her in person.
Bret convinces her to stay, just like he’s done with about every other girl in the house thus far.
Gals, on behalf of your collective parents, relatives, and respectable women of the world, I say, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!!! What were you even thinking setting foot in that house in the first place?! What do you “win” in this competition – a chance to be Bret Michaels’ chew toy for a week! You can do that for FREE at any JJ’s Steakhouse, Bar, and Grill across the Bible Belt!” (I hear they love him over there.)
Finally, it’s time for the elimination ceremony. The last two girls standing are Lacey and Mia. At this point, everyone on the planet (other than Leather) is collectively wishing that Bret would send Lacey home. Of course, the syphilis has already taken hold of his mind, and he’s unable to come to a rational decision. While he full on admits that everyone (including himself) thinks that she’s a crazy bitch, he goes on to explain that he loves how she’s “crazy for her man”.
First of all, Bret, you’re not her man. If so, why the hell do you have five other bitches behind her waiting to gobble your nob? Second of all, she’s not “crazy” for YOU. She’s just plain ol’, run of the mill crazy. I mean, look at this face:
Could you fall asleep knowing THAT was in your house? I’d rather sleep in a room filled with clowns hopped up on PCP.
So, Lacey survives another week, and Mia goes home. I can’t believe she actually cried. Crying over not getting to tickle Bret Michaels’s prostate anymore?! You know we’re in a war still, right Mia? Dayum.
Next week, the “fabulous five” get interviewed by three of Bret’s former sperm receptacles, also known as “super fans”. Until then, I think I’m going to read a book and keep the remaining brain cells I have in somewhat good condition.
So, Lacey survives another week, and Mia goes home. I can’t believe she actually cried. Crying over not getting to tickle Bret Michaels’s prostate anymore?! You know we’re in a war still, right Mia? Dayum.
Next week, the “fabulous five” get interviewed by three of Bret’s former sperm receptacles, also known as “super fans”. Until then, I think I’m going to read a book and keep the remaining brain cells I have in somewhat good condition.
E
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