Nerve Insider

Well, he did it. Last night on the Rock of Love 2 season finale, Bret Michaels did what no reasonable reality television-viewer expected: he chose brains over boobs. Age over youth. A TV host over a tattooed stripper. In other words: Bret chose Ambre as his “Rock of Love,” leaving Daisy disheveled, sniffling, and crying for ice cream. Homegirl can go from hot-slutty to a hot mess in five edited seconds, flat.

In case you missed it…well…you didn’t miss much. And you know Vh1 will have the show on heavy rotation for the next week or so. But if you don’t want to waste an hour and a half of your life, waste five minutes and check out the highlights here!

If you haven’t been watching the show, Bret has narrowed his field of ho’s to two remarkably dissimilar ladies: Ambre (who chooses to spell her name in a unique way), a 37-year-old “TV host” who seems remarkably classy except for her bad dye job. And Daisy (who probably can’t spell Ambre’s name, much less her own), a stripper who has dated one of Bret’s band members in the past, and still lives with her “ex”-boyfriend in a one-room apartment. Why would Bret keep such a woman around, as she has a tendency to lie about her past constantly? Two big reasons, and you can guess what they are.

Bret did as he/the Vh1 producers always do: took his ladies to an “exotic” getaway in Cancun, Mexico. The format that followed will be familiar to any Rock of Love, Flavor of Love, or I Love New York fans: Bret and the ladies are greeted outside the hotel, where they are forced to admire some traditional Mayan dancers before the producers (wisely) being plying them with alcohol. Then the “final two” are taken to a room they’re forced to share, exclaim over tacky free schwag, then go have dinner with Bret.

At dinner, as always, dirty laundry is aired in a familiar, scripted format. Last night, Bret once again told Daisy that they have an “incredible physical connection” but that he was still a little wary of the “mystery” surrounding her past. Daisy questioned whether Bret and Ambre have any sort of “physical connection.” Bret surprised us all with a new, scripted question: maybe Ambre was such a driven career-woman that she just wanted to win the contest…and not so much Bret’s heart?!

Ambre put an end to this by sucking face with Bret at the table, while Daisy watched petulantly. I can’t really remember the rest of the conversation because I was so distracted by the glistening post-kiss spittle on Ambre’s upper lip. Baby, you had a napkin on your lap; you should have used it.



The one surprise: Daisy whipped out a pen and paper…with a list of questions for Bret! Why oh why did the editors cut out her list of questions? I would have actually paid money (um, four quarters) to hear the all-important list of life issues Daisy had prepared. Vh1 producers, if you’re listening: give us an “extras” video, stat!



The next day Bret and Ambre went on their solo date, which was too boring to describe except that, during their secluded couples massage, Amber realized she’d better work on yee ol’ physical connection with Bret. Thusly, we were forced to watch her straddle the man while massaging him. Oh yes.

And then.
At dinner.
She told him she wasn’t wearing any panties. And he asked to see. And she did a nice little Sharon Stone ala Basic Instinct move. Twice.

It was at this point that I puked a little in my mouth. I was actually on Ambre’s side this whole time (who wouldn’t be?). But this was a tad too much. While I respect the fabulous, strong, older woman that she is... I don't want to imagine what her twat looks like. Even if today is cunnilingus and cake day.

But I digress: Ambre spent the night with Bret. Then she and Daisy squabbled. Ambre’s point was that Daisy was a crazy bitch, but honestly, the editing made Ambre look much more bitchy than Daisy. Maybe it also made Ambre look so much more smart and coherent than Daisy, and I simply started pitying Daisy and her inability to complete a sentence.

But enough with feelings. Let’s get on to the boobs. For Daisy’s date the next day, Bret took her deep-sea fishing, which promptly resulted in Daisy projectile vomiting over the railing. Though Bret was psyched for this (chum brings the fishies!) he eventually turned the boat around, and made sure to still make out with the girl, after patting her puking back.



And then came the ridiculous final ceremony, with Bret’s ridiculously shiny metallic suit. It was all a bit of a letdown: Bret told Daisy she’s beautiful but there was just too much “mystery” etc. etc. Daisy gazed up at him, wordless, her sad stupid puppy-dog eyes conveying all the heartbreak a shallow puddle-person can hold. Ambre looked like hell warmed over as she trembled and cried, first thinking she was going home, then realizing, “Holy hell, I’m stuck with this dude now, at least until the reunion show.”





As Bret said, “I was not looking for Rock of Like. I was not looking for Rock of Lust. I really was actually attempting to find Rock of Love.” Did we learn any lessons here (besides the fact that Bret knows puke can work as deep-sea fishing bait)? Did he really find love? Is it true that sometimes, even in Hollywood, the nice girl finishes first? Is there hope that our society is somehow less youth-obsessed and large breast-obsessed than previously thought? Or, is it all just a ploy to lure us in for Rock of Love 3? Only time, or Vh1's producers, will tell.



Ambre’s website, www.ambrelake.com, appears to have crashed some time today. But I did manage to grab her portfolio of poses. I was and am an Ambre fan: work your thirties, girl. You look fabulous. But…if you saw one of these pictures on a dating site, and then the lady pictured above showed up for dinner...would you tell her it's time to update her pics?