No Devils, no RoL, what's a boy to do but watch Predator Rap?

So I’m like a lost puppy these days, as both Rock of Love II and the Devils’ season came to a screeching conclusion (or silent thud, depending on your POV) in the past week or so. Now, I don’t really have the Devils equivalent of Daisy's MySpace page to get me through the idle rigors of an NHL off-season, and outside of passively rooting for the Rag$ to lose versus the equally-deplorable Pittsburgh Penguins, I couldn’t give a fuck-all in Crosbyville as to who win the Stanley Cup this year. However, reading that the NHL league office has nixed production of the Sean Avery Rule t-shirt is good news. Sweet consolation prize for fans that once saw their team win three Cups in nine years. Then again, I was rooting for Oscar de la Hoya’s niece to win Rock of Love, so maybe this is the punishment I get.***

Last off season I made a buncha racket about trading Patrik Elias and/or Brian Gionta for a physical presence on the blue line (the Canucks’ Mattias Ohlund, anyone?), and that would-be presence might have knocked new Vogue intern Sean Avery on his ass a few times in the deciding games of last week’s Devs-Rags games. If only we had anyone who stepped up and vicked this guy. Colin White, was your vag itchy? David Clarkson, not as tough as we thought. Maybe Cam Janssen would have made a difference, maybe not.

But oh, how I long for the days of Scott Stevens. We were pushed around, out-gunned and systematically embarrassed by our biggest rival, leading out Greatest Player Ever to unravel after no one on the team stood up for him. Awesome. I cried about consecutive second-round exits last summer, and now we’re handed an opening-round defeat to the overpaid cross-town dip shits in Blue. Sweet. And no, I wouldn’t have shook Avery’s hand either if I was Martin Brodeur. HOF goalie Billy Smith of the NY Islanders never shook hands with anyone after a playoff defeat, but of course the media scrutiny that exists today wasn’t a fraction of that in 1980. You shake hands with players you respect after a hard-fought series. Brodeur showed Avery the kind of disrespect the Rangers forward showed the game all series.

In any event, it looks to be a long off-season. Thank God I have the Predator Rap to hold me over.

*** Hey, back to Daisy from RoL again. It’s now all news and shit that she’s related to former boxing champ Oscar de la Hoya. Do you think that Oscar and family were kinda embarrassed by her all those years? I mean, they couldn’t get a family member to appear in the episode where they brought the other sluts’ parents to the show, and now suddenly her Family Fucking Tree is out in the open for all to digest?!!? Something is up, here. Imagine of Oscar went on RoL instead of Chaz’s sister?!?! If it took a silver medal performance on Cock of Love for Daisy’s family to finally accept her, then so be it.

...In the Papers: FNX show goes local, Bret Michaels comes to town

From today's Herald: The shit-tastic FNX Best Music Poll concert (May 10 at the BoA Pavilion) got a whole lot cooler with the addition of Passion Pit and Eli "Paperboy" Reed to the lineup. Now everyone can go home at 8pm and miss Death Cab for Cutie, Presidents of the USA and Bob Fucking Mould.

Also in my column: Michaels! Michaels! Michaels!

This past Sunday, Bret Michaels of Poison chose Ambre as his “Rock Of Love,” opting for the almost-40 soccer mom over Daisy, the young, collagen-infused human floatation device. But if the rumors are true, Michaels and Ambre weren’t getting on so well once the cameras stopped rolling.

So it’s a fairly safe bet that by the time Poison hits the Bank of America Pavilion on Aug. 7 (with Dokken and Sebastian Bach in tow), Michaels will be single again. He might even be single already!

So ladies, lock the cellar door and prepare to talk dirty. After the Pavilion show, Michaels and his collection of colorful bandanas will swing by the Hard Rock Cafe for an exclusive meet-and-greet.

“Bret will be there about 11:30 and will hang out, sign autographs, have drinks with the crowd until closing time and, who knows, maybe he’ll even sing a song or two,” said Dan Millen of Rock On concerts.

Tickets for the Hard Rock party are $25 in advance at ticketweb.com and rockonconcerts.com. No word yet if Dokken will head over to the Silhouette Lounge in Allston for their own after-party.

First-ever NJ Devils/Rock of Love diary

It dawned on me, around 9pm tonight, that I’m likely the only guy in America simultaneously rooting for Daisy to win Rock of Love and the Devils to beat the Rags. Yes, here I sit, channel flipping between VH1 and Game 3 of the Devils-Rangers game, live from MSG.

Daisy MADE A LIST... bitch came correct for the finale, she's fighting for her man. And with that, the Rangers score early in the 3rd to tie the game at 3. I missed this live. Better off.

So just as Daisy starts questioning shit and whips out a list, the Rangers start to pepper Brodeur, who stands on his head to preserve the sudden 3-3 tie. How I’m going to keep up with both unfolding dramas, I have no idea. Nevermind the Habs-Bs game at the Garden or Yanks-Sox from Fenway. Thank God there are no girls here. (Or maybe this is why there are no girls here.)

Fuck it, I’m selling out and starting a running diary… running blog? I dunno. Let’s see how this shakes out.

9: 15pm: Brian Gionta still sucks. This guy plummeted in two years huh? Pat Verbeek should get his record back. No one has been more affected by Scott Gomez’ departure than Gionta. I’m waiting for him to deflect a Gomez shot past Marty, just on instinct. Meanwhile, Daisy doing what Gionta can’t – getting offensive on Ambre, who fires back “Surgery can make me hotter, but surgery won’t make her smarter.” She mumbled this as she pulled up to the Ferullo soccer fields in North Woburn. 3-3 tie in hockey, anyone’s game on Rock of Love.

9:22 pm: Rock of Love goes to commercial break, so I have 90 seconds of uninterrupted Devils hockey. Nine minutes left in regulation, and we have the offensive prowess of an underwear-less Ambre. But we’re gonna get a Devils goal soon. I call Langenbrunner, but I doubt he scores before Brett Michaels does.

9:24 pm: Commercial breaks for both channels. On VH1, we get an Ashton Kushner movie trailer, while Versus slings GK Elite sportsear. Ok. Haha here’s an ad for Poison at the Pavilion this summer!!!! Fucking Dokken is on this bill. Was Ratt unavailable?Ugh. Beer sales at the Pavilion will be through the roof during Dokken's set.

9:26 pm: Eight minutes to go in regulation. We can dodge a potentially devastating Game 3 with a sneaky win if someone steps up. On Channel 43, Bret and Ambre are eating by the beach, looking as hot as my parents in the Heritage Springs old people playground. Snooze. Devils have slowed this game to a crawl, maybe they forgot there are no shootouts in the post season.

9:27pm: Ambre says she’s not like Daisy. Let’s see if Gionta stops acting like Gionta and scores a fucking goal here.

9:29pm: The Devils power play is as firm as Michaels’ hairline. Mother-daughter conversation going down in the hotel between Daisy and Ambre, but just 4 minutes to go in NYC...

9:33pm.: Bret gives Ambre a necklace, which is symbolical of the shit he’s about to do to her. He puts it on her as just Brodeur gets ran by the Rags. BRODEUR IS UNDER SIEGE. Jesus Christ if Scott Stevens was still playing, this shit would not be tolerated. And you bet your Gary Bettman bobblehead that Lou Lams will ensure those Sean Avery antics, where he waves his hand to blind the goalie, will be outlawed by morning. Unsportsmanlike conduct for the most non-Darcy Tucker bush league play in NHL historu. Stay classy, Rangers. We may not be tough anymore, but we won't be rattled. (I'd be nice if Colin White stepped up, though, I ain't gonna lie. Can we protect our G? Please?)

9:36pm: Bret scores with Ambre. 2:17 left in MSG.

9:39pm : Devs-Rags going to overtime, still waiting for RoL to shift into overdrive. And then it does!!! Daisy offers us this latest Daisyism: “Just because I’m not 500 years old like Ambre doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want have a clue what I want know what I want.” Or something like that; I was distracted by her wrists.

9:50pm: Daisy gets on a boat. Bruins-Habs into overtime.

9:52pm: Daisy pukes off the boat. Bret finds it hot. Tim Thomas swipes the puck and makes a glove save with 14;37 left in their own OT. It’s no holds barred here in the lonely Barrows Bedroom.

9:56pm: We learn Daisy doesn’t have a white picket fence, Devs-Rags back in session.

9:58pm: Gionta hits the post. Argh.

9:59pm: MSG is playing Bush’s “Machinehead,” the Devils buzzing around the net with a strong chance by Patrik Elias, and Zach Parise is down after getting high-sticked. If only we still had Jeff Friesen, this game would be ours.

10:02pm: My head is going to explode.

10:05pm: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOAL DEVILS!!!!!! MADDEN ON A BANK SHOT. The Devils are alive!!!! Woo!!! Now, let’s see if Daisy can use her rimshot to seal her own win. Let’s go for the Vanya gold!

10:07pm: ...Ok, back to RoL. Oooh we’re gonna need an Ambre MONTAGE!!! We’re gonna need a montage!! Team Ambre, fuck yeah! (Devils won!!!)

10:09pm: Haha’s at Daisy waving to the help at the hotel.

10:16pm: I dazed off in the haze of Devils victory glory when the SECOND Poison concert commercial snapped my focus back into shape.

10:18pm: Haha, Daisy said Ambre is 80 years old. Now Daisy is staring at her wrists again. I can’t believe anyone is still reading this. If only there was a fucking Suede webcast I could corner the market on writing about shit no one cares about.

10:19 pm: Ok… ELIMINATION TIME. Bret looking good, wearing the earth toned satin suit. He gets into it, says he loves them both, how they both rule, but not as hard as John Madden for being a true New Jersey Devil.

10:21pm: Here we go, kids, this is it, true love revealed!! Not a dry eye in the house… and we have commercial break.

10:26pm: “Toughest decision (Bret’s) ever made in his life”… and Daisy, the tour ends here... OH SNAP... awwwww poor thing. God dammit. I knew Ambre would win this. Ugh. Looks like Brett needs a chauffeur, not plastic swimmies, for his kids. I feel for Daisy, she really came alive in this finale, and it was great hearing her attack Ambre's 1912 birthday. Every rose has its porn, Daisy. I still <3 you. As does Charles. And CC DeVille, prolly. Just stop crying into your wrists. Please.

10:28pm: “Ambre you are my rock of love.” Ok. I’m spent. Now, I find it hard to believe Bret won’t tag Daisy again. But whatever, we’ll see if these two wacky 40-sumthins can get have a family or whatever it is they’re off to do. Suddenly, it's awkward. I’m sure Ambre already has the minivan warming up in the driveway.

10:30pm: ...ahhhhh Heather and Daisy throw down next week on the reunion. Jesus H. LEAVE DAISY ALONE!! I’m going for a walk outside. I need an emergency Tedeschi run after all this drama. Maybe even Reef Café. Or a life. Definitely need a life. Go Devils!

Rock of Love 2's Final Deuce

Ok, damn. The Rock of Love 2 battle between the Groupie, the Soccer Mom and Real Doll took a backseat just six minutes into tonight’s show because... holy fuck... we saw Bret Michaels’ un-obscured ...HEAD! No cowboy hat glazed in Rodeo’s vag, no obnoxious-ass Sunset Strip bandana. Just Bret’s sweet golden locks, flowing like it was a motherfucking photo shoot for “Look What the Cat Dragged In.” It really put everything in perspective.

Anyway, tonight was the “Meet the Parents” episode, except for Daisy who has no family since she was spawned outside a porno shoot at Area 51 the same year "Look What The Cat Dragged In" came out (and since it came out in the 80s, we can’t retroactively say the album “dropped.”). While it would be hard to top last season’s alcoholic performance by Heather’s dad and the hick riot-act by Papa Lacey, these shows are always good. And I was just about to make a crack about Destiney’s Dad being on Alien Nation the same year "Look What The Cat Dragged In" hit Sam Goody shelves when it’s revealed he has terminal cancer. He seemed mad chill with the leopard print forehead tat and the New Hampshire head shop purple velour jacket, and he and Bret definitely bonded. He was psyched as shit to have his baby girl end up the Dr. Scholes insert to Bret’s boot-alicious face. My roommate even predicted the “In Memory Of...” still at the end, and sure enough, the dude has already passed on. Suck city.

But speaking of passing on... Destiney is gone!! Nevermind the fact she went on a reality show to bone the singer of Poison while her dad was dying. The real jester shit here is the tattoo (2nd place: we learn she was rejected in casting for Season One!!!). After finally settling on having the RoL logo tattooed on the back of her neck to commemorate “the experience” (Hey nothing says “good decision” like indecision at the ink parlor) Destiney is sent home, leaving us with the 78-year-old Mom and Daisy, who we now know was cheated on by Charles, presumably during the last Papa Roach tour. At elimination, when Bret asked if Daisy had anything else to say, I was hoping Rikki Rocket was gonna walk out and tea bag her. But no dice.

Whew. Ok. Next week is the finale, and Aaaam-brayyyy “turns up the heat” by saying she’s not wearing underwear to dinner. Just like someone born in the 1940s would say. Like Daisy EVER wears underwear.

Go Daisy Go. A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.

Rock of Love 2 kills me

I’m exhausted after tonight’s Rock of Love episode, where we are left with a 37-year-old* soccer mom (Ambre), a rubber fallen angel who once fucked CC DeVille (Daisy) and a purple pending lawsuit with tits (Destiny). Nice top three. He should just go back to Heather, who he had to send home after it was clear she was drunkfucking with the leftover skanks. I don’t think we’ve seen the end of Heather. This shit won’t work out with any of the remaining tran-umvirate, so we’re either destined for Season 3 or Bret’s running off with last year’s runner-up. Ok.

But it was nice to see Bret showing his compassionate side tonight, overlooking the slut-tastic tidbit that CC DeVille (most likely) "unskinny bopped" Daisy Duck back when Poison couldn’t draw dick on tour (ie the '90s). Open up and say ah, Bret, because It was a House of Whores, and it turned into a House of Horrors. History repeats itself.

It’s truly amazing the spawn of a Real Doll and Janice from the Muppet’s Electric Mayhem is in the Top 3, but there’s something about Daisy that I love. And it’s not the Nightmare Before Christmas tattoo.

Tonight we say goodbye to RoL's Baby Without a Well, Jessica, who was too good for this show anyway. But before she ghosted we saw her varsity golf talents, shedding some light as to why she dated Bagger Vance, who dropped by the house last week.

Hey also, who paid for the ad for Boston pop-sprite Casey Desmond around 8:40pm during Rock of Love on VH1? Cool to see a local musician on VH1, even if it’s through paid advertising.

*Up next, the always entertaining Parental Visit, where we find out Ambre is 37!!! Oof. But she doesn’t look a day over 42. Am-Bray! Am-Bray! Am-Bray!

Jes wins Rock of Love; Hope for Good Girls on the rise

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.

Lacey's band, Nocturne

More "Rock of Love," I know.

Well, we said goodbye to Lacey last night, but lookie-here, it's her band, Nocturne. Starving artist, haha! It says they've toured with King Diamond, Dope, Pigface and Bile. (Here's a random fact of the day: I think I make a cameo appearance in Bile's video for "URA Fucking Loser," which was filed around 1995 at the Shoppe/Voodoo, one of Long Island's finest industrial clubs.) But back to Nocturne -- Lacey sounds pretty much as I thought she'd sound. Weird. Didn't this stuff go away in like '01 or so?

One last thing, re: Rock of Love

Alright, Jes' MySpace page reveals she's "In a relationship," while Heather's states she's single. A possible hint as to who wins? Should I just stop drinking?

Rock of Love down to 2

So it’s a beautiful Sunday night in Boston, the Sox are grueling it out with the Yanks over at Fenway, and the Patriots are saying Fuck You to the NFL by trouncing the Chargers at Gillette. And I’m watching an EPIC episode of "Rock of Love" on VH-1.

Finally evil faux redhead Lacey is gone, meaning buxom stripper Heather is left to catfight with cute-as-fuck wallflower Jes. This could be a really dull finale next week, and if Leatherface Michaels doesn’t pick Jes, well then… ah I really don’t even know. I don’t care who wins, but it’s been an entertaining show. I mean, Jes should win, but is ending up with Bret Michaels “winning”? I had “Look What the Cat Dragged In” on cassette too, and I think “Open Up and Say Ahh” was my first black/charcoal cassette, so that was quite a badge in 8th grade. But it seems Heather’s a better match. What do I know about matches, anyway. Other thoughts:

- Heather’s dad is an alcoholic. I bet that man was happy as shit being able to slam free beer after free beer. He was in the background of every scene just nailing ‘em down – under a tree outside, on the stairs inside the house. Excellent work by a man who looks like he shops with my dad and is thrilled to be divorced after all those years.

- Now, I had lunch at the Saddle Ranch Chop House on the Sunset Strip, so yeah, I was mega offended when Lacey’s douchebag dad with the trophy milf ragged eating around a mechanical bull right in front of Bret. I mean, to say that only a few days after Sept. 11 is way out of line. Very Un-American.

- How can "Rock of Love 2 with Tommy Lee," which my NYC spies say is now quietly casting in NYC, top this shit?

- Season one of "I Love New York" on DVD goes on sale Oct. 2. A few days later the second season begins. I'm kinda obsessed with VH-1's craptastically amazing celeb-reality programing.

- "Rock of Love" has been good lately, but I still miss Samantha. What a jewel, and she never got into the "dancing field."



Best Sunday in a long time. And I didn’t even leave the apartment.

Song of the Day: The CSS remix of the Wombat’s Kill The Director