The season finale of Rock of Love 2 aired last night, and boy am I glad I did not have money riding on that shizz! In the surprise of the century, Bret picked the most NORMAL girl in the competition, Ambre (who, to quote Daisy, is "like 80 years old and so boring"), and let Lil Mis Lips-n-Tits know that her tour ended there in Cancun. Unfortunately, in my opinion, this charming little piece of croissant didn't put enough la resistance up to stick it out till le fin. Oh well, c'est la vie. The best part of the episode? Bret's suavely classy choice of last words: "Now let's go have hot monkey sex." Wow Bret; be still my beating heart.
Not to assume that this outcome is the product of any real "feelings" or "relationship growth," but I can at least rejoice in the mere semblance of good decision making on Bret's part. I'm proud that he chose someone not only close to his own age (Bret, contrary to your paranoia, you aint foolin anyone into thinking you're 29, though I understand how mounting ultraviolet guitars on your wall and riding hogs around your living room can be deceiving), but also someone whose already-obnoxious valley girl accent, poor vocabulary, and sub-par inarticulate speaking skills are not smothered by the gargantuan amount of collagen in her face. Daisy does not look her own age; she looks like a 58-year-old TRYING to look her own age. Gugh. Just so glad that gal is out the door. I cannot WAIT for the reunion show.
SEE YA, HO! --->
Unfortunately I didn't have the wherewithal to stick around for Viva Hollywood, nor do I anticipate holding any interest in that show - NO GRACIAS, SENOR. But I did visit VH1's site to see if there were any deleted scenes from ROL2 of my favorite skanky skank skankishly skanking things up. There, I discovered under the "VH1 Classic" section the glorious and sacred cache of Pop-Up videos. I thought that stuff was lost and gone forever with the rest of the flannel and polyester 90s. Needless to say, I spent about 4,329 hours watching some of the videos VH1 had posted (there are roughly 80 for your viewing pah-leasure in two separate links). Something about them made me so nostalgic for the days of Limited Too, awkward middle school dances, body glitter and shitty lip gloss, and writing three different letters to Leoanardo DiCaprio but then not sending them because I was a pussy. It reminded me of when VH1 had a little bit of integrity, even though it catered to the likes of vanilla middle-aged yuppies, like when it aired stuff like VH1 Storytellers, Behind the Music, the VH1 and Vogue Fashion Awards, and even those crappy Diva concerts. I still watched it, bland as it was (not bland but totally fucking rad = Pop-Up Video). But I must say now more than ever, VH1, I really appreciate that you've degraded yourself to the baser interests of human devolution.
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I was only able to shop at Limited Too for one year. Seventh grade. Best year of my life.
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