Bret Michaels - Rock of Love

In an amazing feat of multi-tasking I was finally able to see my first episode of Bret Michaels: Rock of Love while at the gym the other day. Our moment together was short, as there was someone waiting for the elliptical, and for a while there I was too engrossed in listening to The Editors on my mp3 thinga to even notice what was on the in-gym TVs. When I got the headphones off, I got to see Michaels with some young thing on his lap, the voice over said, "She was possibly the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, but as I talked to her I had to think 'Do you understand what I am saying, is there some problem you have with hearing me, I'm about one foot from your face.'" Then we cut to Michaels telling the girl how he's done with the party life (and you know, since his band's heyday was 25 years ago, maybe it's time), he just wants to have quiet time and you, pretty young girl on my lap, do you like to party or have quiet time? You would think the answer would be obvious. Close up on pretty girls face.

Waiting.

Waiting.

No reaction. None at all. It is like she is in another world, a world where she is not on Michaels' lap. A world where she has not just been asked a question. A world where there is nothing but the cool crisp silence of what goes on inside the brain of a moron. Michaels' voice over then returned, assuring the audience then that although she was as dense as the matter at the heart of a dark star (I'm paraphrasing here) he would find a way to communicate with her, because she was extremely beautiful. I am sure you will Bret. I have all the faith in you that I have in all of the people I know who have serious addiction problems (and by the way, being a recovered alcoholic and childhood diabetic what up with all the boozing on the show?). Being the level headed cat you are, I'm sure you can get through to her and all will be ducky.

Just ducky.

But really now, why would any of these pretty young things really want to be with Michaels? He's paunchy, no longer pretty, no longer really a celebrity, and furthermore you're not fooling me with that hat and scarf you're always wearing - you're bald pal! Why can't they get a celebrity chix actually want to meet, maybe one of those Interpol guys or something? I'd go on that show. And by the way, I like to party. And nap.