Things to hate: Rock of Love

17 Oct

Readers of this pean to sloth and torpor will realise that in the deepest recesses of my blackened, fat-congealed heart lies a fervent passion for television (and men dressed as Japanese school girls, but we can discuss this another time).

But there is a new show to gain my fascination. The near-Brechtian Rock of Love.

Rock of Love chronicles the bloated corpse formally known as Bret Michaels, propped up Weekend at Bernie’s-style, and his journey to find love. True to the always epic romantic saga, Michael’s quest has so far spanned three series and winners, with more in the works.

As an homage to the rock’n’roll groupie myth, the show could well run the risk of casting only an homogenised slurry of paper-cut thin skanks but manages to avoid this stereotype admirably. Competing for Bernie Michael’s affections are women who run the gamut from skinny young girl with breast implants and tattoos to skinny old (i.e. mid 30s) women with breast implants and tattoos. Locked in their machiavellian struggles, this cavalcade of surgically-altered fuckbots gyrate, scheme and scrag against their competitors for one of the most trod snail trails in LA.

Truly, each episode makes me hope there is television in heaven so the first and second wave feminists and other vanguards of gender equality can see how future generations show their empowerment through pole-dancing, fashion that does away with the need for gynecological exams and box munching (but it’s just to turn the guys on). Oh, truly there is no equality war left to fight with Rock of Love presented as entertainment.

The best part of the show is when it’s party time and all the girls clamour to ride the pole and grind against the puckered paunch of Bernie Michaels, in a state of syphilitic frenzy for his attention as he travels from lady to lady, offering hands, tongue and a cock that comes equipped with its own hazmat suit.

12 women, 1 man: It’s like a polygamous Mormon family. Who enjoy neon, venereal disease and not-so-secret underwear.

2 Responses to “Things to hate: Rock of Love”

  1. Being Me October 17, 2009 at 9:44 pm #

    Ewwww. I cannot ever look away when a new season is on. Which brings me to highlight your one oversight in this otherwise stellar review of craptastic teev at its best:Bret Michaels, propped up Weekend at Bernie's-style, and his journey to find love. You didn't mention the show's in its 4th(?) season. So it's his journey to find love… til next "ratings" hiatus is over.

  2. Jimmy Hats November 2, 2009 at 3:50 am #

    One of the most amazing pieces of e-literature I have come across in a few months. Thank Annik Skelton for tweeting you and me being slightly off balance on Serepax.Feminism vs Misogynism.Who will reign supreme?

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