I know. They're so tacky (Flavor of Love) and desperate (Flavor of Love) and filthy (Flavor of Love). But I made the lucky mistake of watching Rock of Love for the first time a few Sundays ago, and it just took 60 minutes with the trashy bimbos vying for Bret Michaels' love to figure out who I liked, who I loved to hate, and who needed to die immediately. That's what reality shows do, right? Make you want to make God's decisions about someone else's life?
Anyway, these shows tend to pull me in based on the lowest common denominator - that is, once I figure out who I hate, I have to keep watching to see those assholes kicked off. I watched American Idol last season to see Sanjaya voted off, and by the time he was, I grew to love Blake. This season I watch the Idol results just to see that little jerk Danny Noriega get voted off. I squealed on Thursday when they kicked him to the curb. I told my sister as much over the weekend, and I was surprised (disappointed?) to learn that she was actually rooting for him. I...I just don't know about you anymore, dear sister. Your kind teacher's heart is starting to dissolve your better judgment, hate to say.
But alas, I love Rock of Love. I want Kristy Jo to win. I think Destiney is pure trash and I want her out, now. I think Daisy has had so much collagen injected into her lips that she looks like she was present at the opening of the Lost Ark. I don't like her, but nevertheless, I can't decide if I like to hate her for throwing a monkeywrench into the works, or if I just like watching her look so stupid, which in and of itself is revenge enough. I mean, have you seen her "singing" the "national anthem?"
I have come to look forward to my lazy Sunday mornings, cooking up a good breakfast, brewing a pot of coffee, and snuggling up under a ragged quilt on my love seat to watch Scott Baio is 46 and Pregnant (a cheap knock-off of Curb Your Enthusiasm) and My Fair Brady (not bad - Adrianne Curry just reminds me of Anne Rutledge, one of my old college roommates who was very extravagant and mouthy, but you couldn't help but liking her). But those are just warm-ups for the main event.
So you can imagine my surprise when, yesterday morning, Flavor of Love started up right after Brady. I nearly had a fit - the Rock of Love girls were going to make music videos this week! - until I looked at my TV's guide screen to see that my show was coming up next...and it was going to be a little marathon! I could see the episodes I missed at the beginning of the season! A whole Sunday of Bret Michaels and whores!
BUT, as I scanned through the program descriptions, I noticed that they weren't going to air the new episode this week. WHAT? You put me through 6-7 hours of this, but you can't at least end the marathon with the latest and greatest episode? Boo, Vh1. Boo.
I have to wait another week to root for my grrl, Kristy Jo, to yell at Destiney for being a bisexual trick who can't make up her mind, to laugh at how much Daisy looks like a tranny. I won't like the wait, but I'll be there, for these are the things that truly matter on a holy Sunday morning - sitting in judgment of desperate people.
So there's that,