Rock of Love Recap – Episode 2 – The Guide To Giving Phone


In this episode, social lines are drawn…


…facial lines are mocked…


…and bikini lines are disregarded…


Oh, and also, the blood flow in Bret’s, uh, member gets represented in, you guessed it, a line.


Finally, how’s this for an invite: Come on in: the phone lines are open. For real!


We open on everyone’s favorite person in the world, Tiffany, who, ha, apparently did sleep on the coach, all. A shattered champagne glass looks on and is all, “Girl, I’m standing much more proud than you are right now.”


You can’t argue with a shattered champagne glass. Lacey says Tiffany’s continued presence makes her raise an eyebrow. That’s funny, because it makes me raise a glass and say, “Encore! Encore!” We see some footage of Tiffany’s antics from last week, including a slow-motion version of the phrase that’s been in your head since you watched this show: “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Ladies and gentlemen, you just found your new ringtone.

Then, Erin tells a few of the girls who aren’t busy feeling each other’s and their own boobs about her ex she’s no longer with.


Heather, undoubtedly hearing little more than the word “fiancee” and “married,” immediately whips up a plate of green eggs and sham that will provide a major plot point in this episode. For now, we’ll just be happy that Erin wasn’t talking about her nagging aunts Phyllis and Alethea and Vergina. God knows how Heather would have distorted that.

But before anything can be distorted, it’s time to party. But then, before anything can be anything on this show, it’s time to party.



Some of the girls decide to form an impromptu band. They sing this song. It’s like the Shaggs on peroxide.


Bret, who’s working out outside, hears them and deicdes to step in. Instead of showing them how it’s done, he just joins them in playing crappily, too. Nice. Whatever, it’s music, which is reason enough for gyrating. But then again, oxygen is reason enough for gyrating.


Remember last episode when it seemed like Rodeo was one of the sane ones? Yeah, no. Still, there are worse things you could do to a bikini. Who needs the sack when you can carry the oranges yourself, right?

Bret says that the party is getting out of control. Cut to this 2-second shot.


The man doesn’t lie. Next time you look up “rager” in the dictionary, that animated gif should be bouncing there.

Alternately, these could also be there:




As the party heats up inside, the different climate outside is increasingly noticeable.


Sam points out that there’s a divide between the “bitchy” girls and the “slutty” girls. This difference comes down to how close together a girl typically keeps her thighs. It’s inches, really. What would seem like a negligible difference in the real world is a San Andreas Fault on Rock of Love.

Also sensing the divide, Lacey, being a “slutty” girl, goes out to talk to the “bitchy” girls.


She would seem to be completely sincere and kind in her interest in getting to know them. The bitchy girls, true to their categorization, openly mock her.


Not cool, you know? But because any display of class on Rock of Love streaks away like mascara on a sweaty stripper, Lacey takes it upon herself to out-jerk Jes.



It would seem that Brandi C. hasn’t yet learned to use her inside emotions. They all shoot right to her face like, to use an utterly random example, the effects of meth.

Anyway, to get back at Jes, Lacey pulls her into the pool.


Rodeo looks on.


Or, wait. Is that Jambi?

This makes Jes pissed. She informs us of this by wagging an insanely long finger. My ass would not want to cross that finger, that’s for sure.


Apparently still uncertain that she hasn’t blown Jes’ jerkiness out of the water, so to speak, Lacey then mocks Jes as Jes storms to the bathroom to clean off.


I’m wet. Oh my gawd!” If the maturity level for each act of retribution continues to downgrade, these girls are going to be throwing around soiled diapers and choking each other with hot dogs by the next episode. Which: hot.

And then: Bret Mail! Oooh, and it’s in verse!


“Now it’s time for you to get dressed
And find out which gives phone the best
When I’m on the road, when I’m on tour
I’m away from my baby and it’s a bore
I need a love who can get on the phone
Get me hot and give me a…good time
The three of you who light my flame
Will win the first date of this here game
So be creative and get me hot
Because tomorrow, some will stay and some will not.”

Let’s hope they’re all this gorgeous.

Tiffany seems to particularly enjoy the note.


Again, I say: let’s hope they’re all so gorgeous. All women in the world for all eternity.

The girls prepare for what would seem to be a phone-sex challenge.


Says Magdalena.


Tiffany agrees.

Once the girls are dressed nominally more skimpy than usual, and thus ready for the challenge at hand, Bret gathers them around to further explain their task.


This non-doctor…


Will use this thousands year-old computer…


(Seriously, is that, like the biological father of Vicki from Small Wonder? Are you there, D.A.R.Y.L.? It’s me: future boy.)

To measure the blood flow in Bret’s cavernosal artery as the girls talk dirty to him via phone. Upon the utterance of the word “cavernosal” Brandi C cracks up…


You know that wasn’t her first response. You know someone had to use the word “weenis” and perhaps perform a puppet show before she got what the “doctor” was talking about.

This will be used to measure the blood flow to Bret’s weenis as the girls dole out the phone sex.


And it’s not just like a scale of “turgid” or “flaccid.” This thing maps a full chart with peaks and valleys. Apparently, Bret has the most sensitive penis in the world.

The calls start. Brandi C’s fantasy involves food.


Mmmmm! Gummi Bear boobs!

Brandi M growls like a tiger.


Faster, pussycat!

Tamara is totally clueless.


Coming from the woman whose greatest televised contribution to communication thus far has been, “I’m like Bret…girl…” this comes as no surprise.

As Magdalena approaches the bed to make her call, Brandi C informs us that the girls call her “Magdeandrathal” because “she’s an Amazon.” That’s nonsense, magdamnit. If she’s so Amazonian, why not just call her “Magazon?”


Or perhaps Magahones. For her call she sings Bret a song. It is gorgeous. “Once I received a phone call from LA / I knew that God finally heard my prayer / I’m gonna see you my little Bretty / And I’m so sure I can make you sweat-ay.” A little baby powder will clear that right up.

For her call, Erin does this British accent “dirty nanny” thing.


OK, between the blonde hair and the giant boobs and accent and getting to really spread her…uh, wings, via a Viacom propriety, Erin is a Fox. A Suh-suh-suh-suh-Samantha Fox, that is. Naughty-but-not-that-naughty girls need love, too.

And then, it’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for.


Tiffany fumbles unsexily before she breaks anonymity by saying “Don’t threaten me with a good time!” This tips Bret off, obviously. We then hear a little megamix of her greatest hits…er, hit. Forget about what I said before: that is your new ringtone.

And then there’s Rodeo, who gets down and dirty.


She says that she wants to “f*** Bret,” among things. While her seriousness and seeming determination to win is hilarious, what really makes this worthwhile is the reaction of the other girls.



Sam actually may be taking over Jes’ crown as the person most relatable on this show.

Well, that depends on your level of intoxication probably. Don’t tell me there haven’t been times when you’ve been all kinds of Heather, depending on the synergy between your state of mind and blood alcohol level:



In that shot, she’s fretting because Erin, her nemesis, was chosen as one of the winners of the contest.


That’s what Erin does when Bret praises her dirty nanny routine. OK, one more exposed tongue and I’m gonna have to start counting them. That thing looks like it could poke embers on a fire and still be hotter. The sharpest tongue wins!


Lacey and Rodeo are also named winners.

As Erin prepares for her date, Brandi C. quite bluntly tells her, “You know what? I wanna kick you.


Well, at least she’s honest.

Thus begins an argument in which Erin and Brandi C bicker about who’s stupider. That’s like the pot calling the kettle an automobile.


Brandi eventually decides that Erin has “clown t**s.”


Clowns have t**s? Brandi says she knows she’s pretty and Erin agrees, adding, “for the meth world.” There’s a meth world? Imagine if there were an amusement park called Meth World – it’d be like Disneyland except toothless and really horny. And fast! Erin gets another dig in by mocking Brandi’s “meth-scratched face,” which seriously, is undetectable on TV because Brandi wears so much damn makeup. Anyway, this hits a nerve and Brandi C. corrects Erin, saying that the lines on her face are not from meth but from a car accident.

Brandi needs consolation or perhaps to just smoosh her boobs into another pair so she can do some hard thinking.


Luckily, she can have both. She tells Kristia about how mean Erin was for making fun of her “disability.” How is a scarred face a disability? Is it keeping her from achieving maximum hotness? Does she need government assistance for all the drinks and cars and jewelry she’s missing out on?

And then, more drama, and this time it’s animalistic. No, the girls aren’t throwing feces at each other…yet, they’re bickering about animal rights. Apparently, Dallas doesn’t believe in them.


Whereas, Lacey is a member of PETA.


The following are Dallas’ words, but it really is generous of the producers to show us Heather’s face while she’s saying them.



It’s as though she takes personal offense. Lacey does for sure and really: why would you bother slitting an animal’s throat? If you don’t like animals, why not just ignore them unless you are, you know, psychotic? She may just be saying it to get Lacey’s goat, but don’t be so sure that Dallas wouldn’t bathe in the blood of said goat if given the opportunity.

Also, have you noticed that these girls have posters of Bret in their bedrooms? Just in case they forget what he looks like, which actually, is probably a good possibility considering the collective brainpower in the house.

And then, Brandi C. tattletales on Erin, once again reiterating that she’s disabled.


At least her car accident didn’t rupture her tongue.


Or her ability to read, as Brandi cranks out the following day’s Bret mail:


“Good morning, my sweet ladies
For the three girls who made me quiver
Let’s spend some time alone
For the rest of you that didn’t deliver
You have to stay at home
Get ready for tonight, my girls
You know the stakes are high
Four of you will pack your bags and
Have to say goodbye”

The quiver-eliciting girls will be hitting the studio with Bret and super-producer Don Was for a day of recording.


Lacey is first and since she’s a musician she can sing and harmonize and take a shower with a guitar in her hand and a pair of drumsticks in her nose. She’s kind of magical, as is her singing, in which she rhymes “December” with “rememba.” Twice. The ringtones just keep coming.


And then: visible tongue.


Then, Rodeo sings and she takes it sooooo awesomely seriously.


Doesn’t she look like she should have a beard in that shot? She’s giving a serious ZZ Top and/or Muppet band vibe.

Rodeo, in addition to singing, decides to moan. Love to love ya, mature baby. She reflects on the situation and says, “Man, was I aroused!”


This is, apparently, hilarious as it results in asthma-attack level wheezing followed by what sounds like Rodeo proclaiming, “I’m gay!” Probably not, though, as she adds, presumably in reference to Bret, “I’m turned on. I could probably have an orgasm if I had to.” You have to Rodeo. I command thee to involuntarily spasm in ecstasy.


Yeah! Just like that!

Also, Rodeo seems to pinch Bret’s ass, which is like physical salsa in her whole Tex-Mex cougar shtick. If Blanche Devereaux was chicken-fried steak, Rodeo is chicken fajitas.


Then, it’s Erin’s turn. She makes sure Bret knows that she’s never been in a recording studio before and, thus, he is essentially devirginizing her.


Except, not really, because after more dirty nanny shtick she goes on and on about how she’s not a slut, despite those who may think so based on the way she looks. No more fun and games with the mind, K, Erin?


Back at home, Heather decides that her posse (formerly known as the “slutty girls”) should be called the A-team. She has some explanation of why they’re the A-team but I can’t remember it because all I can focus on is her predictable but adorable use of the word “broad.” She makes a sign signifying her A-team status with nail polish.


You can only work with what you have, you know? Heather needs to get that sign made by any means necessary. Her leadership is undoubtedly patterned after Malcolm X’s.

The show then does a cute little take off on The A-Team naming each girl with her corresponding character






Bret and the girls return and Heather decides it’s time to talk about the fact that she’s going to make up some story about Erin to get her kicked out of the house. She tells everyone that she heard Erin say she has a fiancee. Lacey is ecstatic that Erin will possibly be kicked out.


Yay! Girl-on-girl betrayal!

Heather sits down with Bret and tells him what she “heard.”


Bret sends her away and calls in Erin, who obviously denies everything Heather just said about her having a roommate.


The awesome thing is that you’d never be able to tell Heather and Erin apart if everyone was shot from behind. In fact, you wouldn’t be able to tell 80 percent of the people on this show — including Bret — apart, if it were shot from behind. Thank god for small favors.

Bret eventually talks to both girls at the same time. Heather says she was just looking out for Bret. Maybe in the sense that she obsessively thinks she’s the right girl for him. She scratches his back, she scratches her back. But perhaps meth scratches the deepest. That’s the real lesson of this episode.

Whatever. Eliminations come and it’s the usual promises of further world-rocking and continued threats of good times. It’s important to note that Bret’s attire includes a floor-length cow-print coat.


Admit it: you want one.

The four women going home tonight will be:




(Tamara gets lost before she makes her way out the door. But then, it’s sort of impressive that she knows what a door is in the first place.)

And, sadly:


But you know, this might be for the best as Tiffany didn’t outstay her welcome. We got just enough of her so that she’ll always stay in our hearts. The threat of a good time hangs in the air forever and ever, amen.

Before she leaves she says, “He actually missed out on the person he could take home to Mom.” Yeah, if by “Mom” you mean “Vegas Mom.”

And then she spits.


That’s how I want to remember her.

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