Let’s face it: There are no winners on this show. You have the rejects who were rejected even by Daisy, who is clearly off her head during 90% of the show; and then you have the winner, who gets to date Daisy. Yay…?
Daisy had narrowed the choices down to three: 12 Pack, who has been on more reality shows than the MTV camera crews. Flex, a boring muscle-type guy who was clearly too clean-cut to win. And London, the mohawk-sporting misfit who ran away from the show in the beginning (clearly he and Daisy had connection forged in the fires of Mount Vesuvius), but was brought back later because Daisy thought he was hot.
The first to go home was 12-Pack. He’d milked more than enough TV time out of this little venture, so he figured he’d go home and brood on how to make Vh1 FINALLY give him his own show (does he need a job? should he be gay? what do you people want from him?!).
Then it was down to the top two. Mr. “Nice Guys Finish Last” Flex, and Mr. “I Will Treat You Poorly and Give You Herpes” London.
In an ending that nobody but a blind person didn’t see coming, Daisy threw her arms around London and declared him to be her rockstar. Did I mention that earlier on the show London had trouble reading words like “amazing” off of Daisy’s note? Perhaps they are a match made in… uh… a sweaty nightclub.
Poison sang their withered little hearts out at the Tony Awards before turning around and sauntering off center stage. Except Bret Michaels was too slow (all those Rock of Love Bus girls finally catching up to him?) and smacked right into the descending scenery. Feel free to watch at work; it’s just as funny with the sound off.
The camera stays on him just long enough for you to see Bret lose more brain cells than he did during all those years of coke before it pans to some other singer who you can guarantee nobody paid any attention to.
Vh1 might want to hang up their hats; this was more entertaining than Pumpkin spitting on New York and Lacey in the PETA war against Dallas.
Charm School started as an attempt to help girls whose lives had taken them on bad paths (while scoring a few million viewers for Vh1). This noble gesture quickly devolved into a way for Vh1 to continue cashing in on the lol cows that are the contestants of reality dating shows. In this case, it’s Rock of Love Bus and Real Chance of Love girls that were competing for self-love and money, and possibly their own show (oh hai, Megan Wants a Millionaire).
After much arduous work on themselves (which I did not watch), we’ve gotten down to the four finalists. Who will be sent home by the renowned charmer/teacher/all-around class act Rikki Lake?
1. Ashley
Ashley is the soulless devil-child… Possibly. She drinks and parties an awful lot, but at the same time, she actually works pretty hard at all the challenges and does seem pretty dedicated to her kid. Of course, she’s obviously still a mean girl at heart with all her catty comments about the other contestants, but let’s face it, without her this show would be as dull as dirt.
2. Risky
Risky has this whole thing going about how she’s learning how to open up, and she’s bottled up her feelings for so long… Okay. Every time she has to do a task/answer a question/talk she always says the same thing: “This really has a special place in my heart; I’m doing it for the kids.” I think she must have just picked a line that sounded good and ran with it.
3. Marcia
Bye-bye, boobies! Marcia, the girl who drank her way through several episodes of Rock of Love Bus, gets sent home … I wish. Actually, she just gives out several lectures about the evils of drinking and how Brittanya needs to battle her inner demons or whatever. Booooring.
4. Brittanya
Brittanya is actually not that entertaining because you get the feeling that she actually IS going to pop a cap in someone’s ass. Maybe it’s the dimple piercings; maybe it’s the many threats; maybe it’s the fact that she’s on the show to hire a lawyer to keep her out of JAIL. Girl’s got issues. In spite of her protests when one of the deans calls her on it, she doesn’t seem to care a whole lot about her son. Unfortunately, while this sounds quite fascinating, she has all the personality of a withered cactus. The only thing Brittanya ever really does is threaten people, and the rest of the time she’s quiet. That makes her boring and scary.
This season of Charm School has been, if possible, even more useless than the last one. Ricky Lake as principal/dean/head dominatrix is ridiculous; they’re not even pretending like they want these girls to become worthwhile members of society. However, at least Vh1 had the sense to realize that the only reason anybody watched this show was for Ashley, so they kept her on in spite of her continuing to be just as bitchy as she always was (thank the lord almighty). But undoubtedly, Ashley will not win, which will make us all sad.
Oh well, as long as they don’t bring back Tool Academy life isn’t so bad.
Tiffany (aka New York from Flavor of Love) is back and this time she’s ready to shamelessly appear on TV just for the money/fame boost (unlike the last three shows she was on…)! Basically, since she isn’t making any kind of money as an “actress,” the premise of the show is that she will do whatever job we choose for her. A job well done? 10,000 big ones! That will probably pay for her next boob job. A job poorly done will lead to more entranced viewers and a second season. You do the math…
Interestingly enough, it’s not only New York that’s trying to shamelessly scam money off the public. Vh1 chargest $1 to vote via text message for New York’s short-lived career choices. The poor suckers voting for the obvious choice (pest extermination vs. something boring) are wasting time and money on this show… double whammy. I would be more concerned about it but probably the only person interested enough to vote is Pumpkin, who got an extra couple of minutes in the limelight by spitting on New York.
The season premiere was so incurably dull that I started tuning out New York to focus on my dog licking herself. Vh1 inflicts New York and her breasts, which appear roughly two minutes before she does, upon us and subject us to a monologue. What Vh1 fails to realize is that nobody cares what New York has to say; we just want to see her attack people. When the show got rolling New York realized she would have to be a pest exterminator and freaked out worse than Tom Cruise on Oprah’s couch. For the events of the rest of the episode, multiply this by 2,000. Every time she sees something remotely alive she freaks out and runs, including the obviously fake rubber snake.
The only conclusion I can draw is that VH1 hates black people. In the past few years of watching VH1, I have yet to see a single intelligent black person. Let’s recap: Flavor Flav, New York, Dallas (Rock of Love), Cable Guy (Daisy of Love), Abiola (Tough Love)… the list goes on. These morons are so overwhelmingly retarded that for a second you forget that they represent a (thankfully) small percentage of the world. Unfortunately, then I remember Daisy, Bret, Frank the Entertainer (I love New York), Frenchie (Rock of Love), Arian (Tough Love), and all the other equally retarded white people. The only logical conclusion I can draw is that Vh1 wants us to lose faith in the entire human race. Why are they doing this? The scientologists must be behind it…
From the tip of his cowboy boots to the roots of his hair extentions, Brett Michaels is the 40-year-old rocker dreamboat fantasy of every woman from 13 – 300.
Come on, who could resist this face:
For two seasons, Brett’s trials of love with the best hookers his producers could find entertained us and made us feel better about our own jacked up love lives. In those two seasons, he found girls he was actually suited for (aka, ugly hookers) and ejected them in the last round for girls he was not suited for (aka, less ugly hookers). There were a large range of women on the show, spanning those who pretended they were actually out there to find love (because the basis of a good relationship is watching your loved one sex up half the country while you throw yourself at him trying to get slightly more attention than anyone else) to those who were clearly there just for the free alcohol.
And all sensible Americans tuned in at 9 on a Sunday night, enjoying the staged catfights and watching girls swallow their pride and make out with something that looks like Brett.
However, Rock of Love took an unfortuitous turn this season. Instead of living in a house together and beating on each other for putting the dishes away wrong (Real World, I am looking at you), the girls instead live in buses! Because they are going ON THE ROAD with Brett! Like roadies! Only they do nothing actually pertaining to his music except drink at a couple of his concerts.
I see what they were going for with Rock of Love Bus. They wanted to take something that was beginning to get tired and make it new again by putting it in a different format. That was a pretty mediocre idea. But then the producers, for whatever reason, utterly failed to take advantage of the new setting. The girls still do the same crappy challenges that vaguely have something to do with either singing or stripping, get mad at each other in their bedrooms, and fall over drunk outside.
If you’re going to try to revamp the show and make it all about Brett touring and his musical career, at least make the girls be involved backstage or something – hell, even a shot of the backstage activity would have made it slightly more interesting. No dice.
To add to this creatively imagined hour of my time, they decided to forego finding any girls who gave off even the faintest whiff of class. If you don’t charge less than $20 by the hour, you won’t be found on this season of Rock of Love.
Hey, at least they’re pretty:
- Margo
Thought of the Day
Why is it called an outfit if your clothes are supposed to help you fit in?
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