ROCK OF LOVE, EPISODE 4: BITCHES BE CRAZY
Well, it finally happened: the Rock of Love ladies have all fallen onto the same cycle, and, consequently, suffered one big, simultaneous nervous breakdown. Rodeo cried for her kid, my love Sam revealed she’s just as big a nut job as any other slut on the show, and at least three of the ladies finally – finally!!! – got it on with Bret… all at the same time.
First of all, I thought no task to win a date with Bret could ever really top the moronic phone sex debacle of Episode 2, but I gotta say, having the ladies write lyrics to instrumental tracks from one of Bret’s solo albums and then making them sing those lyrics was a stroke of genius. Paired up into teams of two and guest judged by some snotty British radio DJ I’ve never heard of (I can only assume he got the gig because he shares a nationality with Simon Cowell), only Jes and Brandi M. acquitted themselves admirably. Piss drunk and fully aware that they had no musical talent whatsoever, the ladies dressed in punkish outfits, wrote obnoxious lyrics meant to be screamed (something about “fucking love,” although I’m sure Bret would have preferred “love fucking”), and carried guitars on-stage that they had no idea how to play for maximum Robert Plant effect. The result was the only performance that didn’t take itself too seriously; but Bret still didn’t give the girls the date because the radio DJ thought the guitars were a bit much. Brandi M. put it best after when she declared, “It was a joke, pull the stick out of your ass.”
The rest of the acts were different variations of the same train wreck: almost all of the girls chose to perform a ballad, which was a terrible idea because it just highlighted how shitty their lyrics were and how little singing ability they posses. The demonic bitch known as Lacey was foiled by her partner, Erin “Clown Tits,” who couldn’t even keep rhythm on a tamborine, and although Mia and Rodeo tried to look their hottest (which, for the uggo Mia and the manly grandma Rodeo, was a real task in and of itself), Rodeo’s insistence on making the song all about children – just a day after practically having a nervous breakdown in Bret’s arms because she missed her son so much – pretty much doomed on her the spot not only to losing the competition, but to being kicked out of the house.
Which she was – but only after another series of crying fits over her son. “You need to go visit your son,” Bret told her, personally walking her to the door before handing out the remaining VIP passes for the week. Bret claimed he wanted to “let her go with dignity” and started crying himself (whether or not they were crocodile tears is a subject of debate), but Rodeo’s protest that she didn’t wanna leave made it seem more like Bret was just trying to get her to exit peacefully (“I love him and I will never let go,” Rodeo cried after. Don’t be surprised if she becomes Bret’s stalker and/or murderer within the year.).
That meant that the remaining teams – Heather and Magdalena and Sam and Brandi C. – were the winners, even though their acts were by and large completely forgettable (Sam sang some song about her trust issues, and I honestly don’t remember what the fuck Heather and Magdalena did). Heather and Magdalena took their date first (and I gotta say, Magdalena’s manish voice is giving her week after week of unintentionally funny lines) and while the Polish Amazon Queen tried to foil Heather by asking her how much longer she could keep stripping (Heather said she was sick of everyone asking her about being a stripper – but, babe, c’mon, you’re a stripper), Heather’s response – that she did it to put herself through school (what stripper didn’t?) and is quitting in six months – satisfied Bret enough to start making out with her at the table.
And then, drunk off his ass, the soiree continued at Bret’s house, ending with him, Heather, Brandi C. and Rodeo all his bedroom. Everyone tried to be coy about what transpired behind closed doors – save, of course, Bret, who was all too eager to kiss and tell. In other words: he fucked ’em. Fucked all three of ’em silly. And don’t kid yourself that anything else happened.
It was enough to send shockwaves through the house – or through Sam, at least, who admitted to having trust issues (not because she was ever cheated on – but because her daddy cheated on her mommy) and declared that she wasn’t in the house just to hook-up. That seemed all well and good, but one little line from Bret during their date- “You know I like you” – and she was making out with him in the woods while Brandi C. waited back at the picnic table. It was around this time that I realized why I’ve liked Sam so much up ’til now: she’s exactly the kind of crazy bitch I’m usually attracted to. Put more simply: she’s no better than any of these other whacked-out sluts – she’s an idiot in smart girl’s clothes. Sigh. It was a nice fantasy while it lasted.
The good news about the revelation that each and every one of these chicks belongs in a room with padded walls is that it means that the promise of drama on the remaining episodes is in no way diminished even though Rodeo and – gasp! – Brandi C. were sent home (what will Bret do in a world where there’s only one porn starlet named Brandi?!?!) . Brandi C., of course, was heart broken: “It’s obvious how much I like him,” she cried to the camera, a rare moment in which she revealed her own personal neurosis: she thinks as long as the guy knows she likes him, he’ll stick with her, when, of course, things like personality and intelligence usually enter into the picture (Bret’s admitted reason for dropping her: he liked fucking her, didn’t like talking to her). And so Brandi C. made the error I thought Tamara would make way back in Episode 1: she put out too soon and didn’t have the chops to keep him interested thereafter. Oh well. At least she has lots and lots of people willing to film her taking a load on the face for the purposes of internet distribution.
Next week: semi-naked mud football! Oh, man, this is gonna be great!
-AR
