I hate to admit that for some reason I find Bret Michaels' Rock of Love intoxicating.I mean, if I were to treat the show like something on The Discovery Channel - I'd say its certainly interesting to see how big modern science can inflate a woman's breasts, while at the same time it's intriguing to note that even the greatest minds of our time apparently find themselves unable to do anything to inflate her self esteem (hmph! Science!). But even with this bit of science out of the way, I think my favorite part of Rock of Love is how Michaels spends much of the show deeply wounded and full of sensitive remorse whenever he finds that any of the stripppers, porn stars, and deeply psychiactrically troubled women the folks at VH1 have painstakingly assembled for him to test the waters of romance with - may not be there because they are romantic idealists who truly wishes to commit to a life of love with a (surely balding) aging rock has-been, but in fact may just be doing it because they are crazy beeyotches who want to be on TV. Imagine that!
The other puzzling part of this show is how Michaels, a childhood onset diabetic (and didn't I read one-time recovered alchoholic?) is often shown parting hard with the ladies. Um, wouldn't all that booze get in the way of his healthy lifestyle?
PS - My money is on the Penthouse Pet Taya, because as she says “I’m a centerfold model for Penthouse and I’m the classiest one here!"
PPS - And what up with all that eyeliner Michaels now wears? He looks like he's going to be in an amateur theater production of Rent.
PS - My money is on the Penthouse Pet Taya, because as she says “I’m a centerfold model for Penthouse and I’m the classiest one here!"
PPS - And what up with all that eyeliner Michaels now wears? He looks like he's going to be in an amateur theater production of Rent.
