So episode 2 of Bret Michaels' Rock Of Love aired last night. Thank gawd, what with The Sopranos ending and all, this show is on the air so we all still have something of quality to watch on Sunday nights, right?
Anyway...man, there's a whole lot I could write about:
The "Talk Dirty To Me"-inspired phone sex contest.
The two warring factions that have developed in the house, between the A-Team (aka the Slutty Girls) and the Junior Varsity Team (the Non-Sluts).
The fact that both teams were sloppy drunk, pole-dancing, and doing body shots off each other's gummy-bear breast implants by 9am.
Or how when boozehound Tiffany got eliminated after her mushmouthed phone sex attempt got Bret more bothered than hot, she slurred that Bret missed out on a "girl he could take home to Mom." (Er, I guess that's true...if Bret's mom lives in a Bukowski-esque dive bar, or, say, a brewery.)
But no. What I really want to write about is Bret's HAIR.
See, for years, Poison's mane man has never been spotted in public without some sort of rock 'n' roll accessory skillfully and suspiciously concealing his hairline. In fact, I personally recall a time when a fun-loving friend and I went to see one of Poison's fantastically cheesier-than-Cheetos reunion concerts, and beforehand we made a bet regarding exactly what sort of accoutrement would be topping Bret's golden head. I predicted he'd be sporting one of his many star-spangled cowboy hats; my friend wagered it would be a Rico Suave/Axl-like bandanna. When Bret subsequently sprinted out onstage belting "Ride The Wind" with a fancy conch-shell-festooned chapeau on his head, I thought I'd won the bet fair and square, but then he whipped off the hat to reveal...a scarf underneath it! Yes, he was double-bagging his head that night, just in case. He wasn't taking any chances. So, my friend and I had to call the bet even.
My point is, Bret's been keeping his tresses under tight wraps since Blues Saraceno was still filling in for CC DeVille. And the one time he did go bareheaded, in his solo "Raine" video, he was rocking what at first appeared to be a plush Davey Crocket-style coonskin cap, but upon closer inspection seemed to be a very bad cat-dragged-in wig, possibly from the Raquel Welch collection. (See the video screengrab at top, and watch the offending video here.)
So imagine my shock and awe when Bret appeared on Rock Of Love last night hatless, scarfless, and wigless!
Seriously, after all those years of full-frontal head coverage, I pretty much expected the exposed Bret to look like Gallagher, or like how he did when he shaved his scalp to play a prison inmate in the straight-to-video Rotten Tomatoes classic A Letter From Death Row.
Anyway, Bret has thinned out a bit on top, but as I watched him receive naughty anonymous phone calls from competing contestants, while he reclined in bed in flame-patterned rockstar pajamas with his wispy candyfloss follicles fanned out on his pillow, I was pleasantly surprised to see that reports of his male pattern baldness have been greatly exaggerated.
Luckily, those Rock Of Love chicks will still have something to run their talons through.