So Rock of Love ends with Bret Michaels channeling the wisdom of King Solomon (!!!) and choosing Jes, upon realizing the younger, spunky one loves him more since she's not willing to share. Lovely. How educational, though the Poison singer is no Newman and these are no bikes.
Jes should have won anyway (her Myspace dating status was "In A Relationship," 'member). Though was there really much debate when you pit, as Terence said, a 23-year old hairdresser from Chicago against a 31-year-old stripper from Vegas?
Overall a pretty lackluster finale with a yawning opening 20 minutes. The sloppy seconds shit from a way-haggard Heather was pretty funny (but what the fuck was with the yellow dress, Whiskey-bathed Amazon woman?), as was her calling Bret out in the limo ride home. Haha, she's got his name tattooed on her neck. Whoops! Hey, I have a hockey team logo tattooed on me, to each their own.
Bret Michaels continued to look absolutely ridiculous the entire series, I don't even know what to say about this guy's wardrobe. I got nothing. Does Vince Neil dress like this too? What about the guy from Kik Tracee? Shit at least Taime Downe wears all black and fishnets now. My God Los Angeles scares me sometimes.
But whatevs, season two of "I Love New York" starring the amazing and wonderful and talented Miss Tiffany Pollard airs next week. I guess it didn't work out with Ninja Turtle Tango, winner of the last series. Shocking. Though I wonder what religious morality tale we'll get out of that one. More to come tomorrow, after this weekend finally dies. Jennifer knows how to host a birthday party. Happy birthday lady.
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