Trash-ination

I've always been attracted to trashy, nasty girls. Not men, so much, maybe because trashy behavior is accepted more in men. Even as a young girl, my very favorite musical was Gypsy because it was about strippers. I almost memorized The Happy Hooker when I was in the eighth grade.

I found to my surprise that I was actually repulsed my such nastiness up close. When I was about 8 months pregnant I made my first foray into a strip bar. After the initial minute or so of shock at the nakedness, it was sordid and actually dirty. Like the guys who were there are dirty, the place was dirty -- as in they have dirt on them.

I found it the most un-sexy thing ever, watching these bored, half-lit girls wiggle around desperately to earn money. I remember this one mousy little waitress who had on a really cheap blond wig and looked terrified. It was so dejected and sad. As I walked in the door, the bouncer felt compelled to pat my belly, but hell, it's not as though the baby is participating in any of this. I nursed my lukewarm, flat Coke and counted the minutes until I could leave. I wasn't offended, just tired and bored.

But my fascination lives on. I just make sure to keep it more in the conceptual arena. This is all a long preamble to the shame-faced confession that I'm completely addicted to Rock of Love starring Bret Michaels. Michaels is the front man for a moderately successful power band from the 80s called Poison. They pretty much sucked and all you probably hear from them is "Ain't Nothing But A Good Time" which is trotted out at sporting events. "Every Rose has its Thorn" is another, really bad song they did.

The formula for the show is simple, Bret Michaels a middle-aged pudgy, chinless, apparently balding, guy who wears bandannas and the cheapest looking wig ever ("Finest hair extensions Europe has to offer" -- as he put it in one show -- notwithstanding), is looking to find love by having a bunch of girls come and vie for his "heart." It's kind of like The Bachelor, although instead of a good-looking, young guy, you have a washed-up rock singer in his 40s. And instead of a bevy of lovely, dewy young things, you have the trashiest strippers, porn stars and whatever they could dredge from the gentlemen's clubs and peep shows around the LA and Vegas areas.

You gotta love it. Brett, who has Type I diabetes, pretends he's this wild, partying rock star, when, in fact, he's in a long-term relationship with some girl and has two very young kids. His signature move is to make out with all the girls. And he's of the St. Bernard slobber school of making out, which makes it especially disgusting. Plus the majority of the girls are about half his age -- and this dude shows his age.

Nonetheless, I have to watch it. This season, Bret took his show on the road. The producers were able to wrangle up some really lovely examples of sex on the hoof this side of the HBO series Hookers at the Point. The intellectual discourse among these girls and Michaels is something to behold. Michaels uses such endearing terms terms as "me likey" or "Hey OH" or "your hotness" as he slits his protuberant eyes into snake-like slits and watches the latest silicone-bloated chest come staggering toward him for some of that luscious, slurping making out.

The girls drink constantly and compete in absurd games that seem designed to showcase the plastic, surgically enhanced beauty that Michaels finds so appealing. This season is winding down. Bret made the fatal error of getting rid of the trashiest girls too early. I think he didn't mean for the last one to leave, but this time most of the girls are more obvious in their disdain for Michaels and they seem delighted to get the hell away from liver lips.

But I'll still watch to see who has "captured Bret's heart" this season. The last time, he spoke sadly of the blow-job he probably wasn't going to get from one of the girls he had cast aside earlier in the competition. He really is a disgusting man, although that doesn't stop me from watching his every move.

I agree with the blogger who said this was the only show from which you could get a contact STD. When I'm done watching, though, it's always time for a nice, long, hot shower.