'Rock Of Love Bus': Episode Whore

Posted at 9:47 AM Jan 26, 2009

By  Kenny Herzog



I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that was an unfair, and all-too-easy, quasi-headline-typo. But I've been waiting over a month for Rock Of Love Bus to approach "Episode 4" (the longest I've waited for such an installment since the re-release of Star Wars: A New Hope), precisely so I could make that little play on nerds.

After decrying the program during its initial bow, and even vowing to abstain from further viewings to avoid any risk of herpes simplex 1 by osmosis, I am officially hooked, booked and crooked. And while I feel immediately dirtier than Mike Rowe following a day in the bowels of a cow-poop shed, I've realized that the exploits of  Bret Michaels and his skank tank actually serve to make feel cleaner about my own existence in the long run. So thank you, VH1, and in your honor, here are the five very important life lessons I took out of last night's splendiforous 60 minutes.

5. Either she's had one too many post-tequila pratfalls, got a bit too rough on the hockey rink during the prior week's showdown, or exiled Brazilian homegirl Marcia's got a very uncomfortable story to tell, judging by the bruises covering her lower body when she opted to forego pants for "Episode 4"'s challenge. 

4. If you ever wanted to know what a porn equivalent of Mad Max would resemble, just go back and watch the reruns of this one, specifically the girls' future-slut ensembles as they helped breakdown Bret's rehearsal stage.  3. They've finally become more blatant about utilizing ROL as a glorified advertisement for Bret's music (presumably now that he's proven himself such a viable ratings stalwart). And man, does this commercial suck.

2. The two most vile sounds to emanate from modern TV memory are the inescapable whine and raspy shrill, respectively, that emanate from the mouthholes of Ashley and Natasha. Ashley, in particular, makes me suddenly empathize with what it must have been like to be an outcast teenage girl.

1. I heart Beverly. And am predicting right now (yeah, you heard me America) that she will win and she and Bret's romance willl last until his final hair extension falls humbly to the fore of his deathbed. Although it would be nice if she didn't make out with Manic Panic-mohawk drummers who look like even more cracked out versions of Shifty Shellshock.