Rock of, uh, Love

I am oddly drawn to bad reality television. Which is why I didn't change the channel when the new VH-1 reality show Rock of Love came on last night. It's kind of like Flavor of Love, where Flava Flav sifted through dozens of women in hopes of finding one true...
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I am oddly drawn to bad reality television. Which is why I didn’t change the channel when the new VH-1 reality show Rock of Love came on last night. It’s kind of like Flavor of Love, where Flava Flav sifted through dozens of women in hopes of finding one true love, only less entertaining. This new show has former Poison frontman Bret Michaels on the prowl, looking for his “special someone.” Michaels has aged considerably since his hair band days; he resembles a bloated frog with stringy blonde hair. And eyeliner.

Two of the contestants vying for the title of Mrs. Michaels are from Florida: Brandi (whose resume says she “enjoys being naked”) and Bonnie (whose most treasured possession is her Lynyrd Skynrd panties). A typical snippet from the show: “Men always like boobs. If you’ve got ’em, show ’em.”

After watching Rock of Love, I was left with one depressing thought: Feminism is officially dead.

Tamara Lush

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