Rock of Love Recap – Finale – Turn On, Turn Off

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Yeah, yeah, Jes won. Whoo-hoo. Yay. Blahblahblah.

It’s not that I’m not happy for her, it’s just that I’m happier about something else — the show’s true triumph of the human spirit…

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…Heather’s hair. It’s overcome so many obstacles. Gravity, for example. Ultimately, it’s the show’s real winner, if you ask me.

It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday, but it’s even harder to say goodbye to Rock of Love. I’m really going to miss it! Hold my hand and we’ll try to get through this together. Yes, every rose has its thorn, but also every stem has its end. And that’s what really hurts.

We open on the gruesome toothsome twosome, Jes and Heather as they’re backing their bags, y’all. They’re going to Cabo.

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They sort of stare each other down from across the room. Oooh, intimidating.

Bret retrieves them. Heather is ready to go.

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Jes interviews that she can’t wait to “La Cucaracha with my man!” Buggy style is sooooo kinky.

And they’re off.

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And on.

They arrive and there is dancing. If your only understanding of traveling came from 51 Minds’ Celebreality dating competitions, I can’t imagine your disappointment to find out that you aren’t greeted by dancing everywhere you go when you actually do travel.

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I’m here to tell you, that’s not always the case. Don’t let Heather’s sapphic interlude fool you: you don’t necessarily bag a babe immediately upon arriving in Mexico. Not even if you happen to land in Tijuana.

Heather gets down with her target.

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Bret explains the situation thusly: “Heather just about knocks me out to try to get to one of the girls who is a hot, sexy dancer. I pay no attention to the girl because I’m paying attention to the girls I’m with. But the girl I’m with is paying attention to the girl I’m not paying attention to. Strange moment for me.” Did you know that Bret had a hard time paying attention to more than two girls at once? I didn’t — I’ve only been watching just the opposite for the past three months. Also, don’t straight dudes like girls who like girls? Every comment Bret makes about his sexual interests feels like a rabbit hole into a different wonderland. Curiouser and curiouser!

They hit the hotel and Bret sends the girls to their room. He’s seriously like, “Go to your room.” They’re all, “Only if we can call you ‘Daddy!’”

At their room, they find all manner of accouterment.

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Look at the booty shorts! This is so me!” she shouts. She probably means “booty” as in a pirate’s stash, and not as in “butt” because that whole stripper thing is getting so old.

And then, Bret summons the terrific two for a staredown…

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Officially it’s a dinner, but the only thing the girls are eating are their respective hearts out. Incidentally, if they were eating each other’s hearts out, this would be a very different show. Possibilities. Sigh.

Bret confronts the boner Heather was sporting over that welcoming dancer and what he perceives to be Heather’s bisexuality. Heather explains her position like this: “I’m just not a hater, I’m a congratulater. If there’s a hot girl, I’ll be the first to admit, oh, she’s got a nice rack, or whatever. But I’m not saying, ‘Come f*** me and my man.’” I feel all kinds of o rly? about this. I think it’s primarily because Heather is something of a modern day Woodsy Owl (“Be a congratulater, not a hater!” could totally be the new, “Give a hoot! Don’t pollute!”).

The girls get to bickering. Heather thinks that at 23, Jes is too young for Bret. Does she really want kids at that age? Uh, does Heather? Does Bret, even? Jes, quite slickly, sees Heather’s age card and raises it an aging stripper card, pointing out that Heather is 31 and still dancing. Heather OTFs that she’s sick of the stripper thing.

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She’s all, “Argh!” See? Told you she was a pirate.

Heather pledges that her breast-baring days are over. “I met him and I’m never going back ever. Period.” Oh, so that’s why she hasn’t touched any food during this “dinner” — she’s saving room for the words she’s planning eating in a few months during the strip-and-peel shrimp lunch special.

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Dinner ends. We see the girls lounging by a pool when the day’s Bret Mail arrives.

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I’ll miss Heather’s hair, but I’ll miss these songs even more. Also, I love that it’s finally time for Heather to “get dirty” with Bret. Clearly, everything so far has been leading up to this point. Heather does a little dance of anticipation while reading the Bret Mail.

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Or maybe she’s just chilly. Hard to say.

When she meets Bret for their date, he greets her with, “Huh-low, SuperHot!” More like SuperVixen! Or really: superhero, what with all the hurling through the air that Heather and her hair do as a matter of course.

Her date with Bret will be riding dune buggies. Clearly, Bret really wants to spend some intimate time with her for their last full day together.

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But the plan hits a snag.

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Something’s wrong with Bret. He interviews that, “I started to feel really, really sick again from the diabetes.” Except, he doesn’t pronounce it like most people (“die-a-bee-tees”). Instead he goes the Wilford Brimley route (“die-uh-bee-tus”). Really? Does Bret really say it that way? Why didn’t I know about this before? That totally reminds me of my favorite lolcat of all time:

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And here’s the Bret Michaels remix:

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It’s his affliction — he can call it whatever he wants, but damn if the “tus” doesn’t tickle my whiskers.

But while Bret is freaking out, Heather’s got her eyes in all the wrong places. Namely, the road.

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Ha! She so doesn’t care that he’s sick. She takes the wheel and starts driving as maniacally as Tura Satana in Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!

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Finally, Bret gets her to stop because seriously, it’s a matter of, like, insulin shock. They share a picnic nearby.

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Nothing goes with romance like watermelon. Nothing.

After some making out…

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…this phase of the date is over. Heather returns to her room for the next: dinner. And eating and eating and eating. This show could be called Rah uh Luuuuuhhhh because between the feasting, the exposed tongues and the alleged oral sex, everyone’s mouth is so damn full all of the time.

Heather interviews that she’s finally met the man of her dreams, which makes me want to spit my drink out (finally, an empty mouth!). Heather walks in and tells Jes she just had the best date on the planet, which makes Jes want to spit her drink out.

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Before Heather leaves for the date, there is heckling. “I hope you enjoy tonight because I don’t think you’re going to be anything more than a f*** buddy to him,” Jes tells Heather. Aw snap! Jes also contends that Heather’s dress “screams stripper.” Well, what’d she expect it to do? Whisper?

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Heather tells Jes that at last night’s “five-star dinner,” Jes looked “skanky” in her mini-skirt. Jes, clearly, does not care. She punctuates their fight by saying, “Stripper-ass bitch.” Sounds like someone’s been watching Charm School!

Unfazed, Heather meets Bret for their dinner.

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He really knows how to greet a lady, doesn’t he?

They sit on a dock amongst pillows and eat dinner. To Bret, this is “heaven on earth.”

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Ooh, baby do you know what that’s worth? Undoubtedly more than a few bucks sticking out of a G-string, at any rate.

A few key things happen during dinner. Bret explains where he’s at with Heather: they bonded on a “party level,” but he wonders if she and he can really do the damn thing. He also wonders what Heather will do while he’s off being a rock star, especially if she’s no longer stripping. During the course of this thought he uses some variation of the phrase “get your ya-yas out,” about 5,000 times. He was probably reading David Sedaris on the flight over.

Heather’s response is a flat, “I’m in love with you, Bret.”

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She sounds bored already. Bret’s response is, “For real? I don’t know what else to say.” Oh, just bask in the adoration like you have been for the past 25 years. He demands that he and Heather go back to his hotel room immediately.

But first!

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Exposed tongue. Scratch what I said before — this is what I’m going to miss most of all. God, this finale just keeps reminding me of all that we’re leaving behind. It’s like watching someone die!

And so, they retire to Bret’s room…

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…and, uh…

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Well, the lips say it all, now, don’t they?

In the morning, Heather tells Bret:

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“Have a horrible date.” Ha. She’s so intimidating that you know he really considered doing just that.

Heather rejoins Jes, who’s eating breakfast by the pool. Jes asks how her night was.

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Can’t you tell by the hair, Jes? It’s very expressive. Nonetheless, Heather elaborates.

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…and elaborates…

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I really need to go, like, shower, but…I don’t know if I want to take his scent off me. I think might rather just sit here. Can you smell him? Can you smell him on me?” What a gal.

The two retire to their room, where Jes prepares for her date with Bret. There is similar heckling as she leaves (Heather really gets off at screaming at people from doorways, which is one of her more endearing traits).

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“When you kiss him, you’ll be licking me,” yells Heather. You and a cast of thousands, Heather. But whatever: fair enough. For her final trick, Heather sings part of “Nothin’ But a Good Time,” and dances.

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She concludes by yelling, “Sloppy seconds, baby!” And then she howls, underlining the point that she is an animal. Love her a lot.

Bret meets with Jes and visions of his first course dance in her head.

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No matter. Jes and Bret will be taking an afternoon cruise on a yacht that could only be named for a rock star: Panache.

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They cruise but not in, like, the gay way. Mostly they just kind of cuddle and kiss.

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Wow. It’s so reminiscent of Deelishis just…you know, less ample.

And then, dinner. Bret gets sick again and says “diabeetus” again. And then he shows Jes the shot he must ram into his butt should he go into a coma. That Bret: such a slick-talker!

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Clearly overcome, Jes weeps.

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She looks almost exactly like Gwen Stefani in the “New” video. Bret takes her crying as a sign that she’s “let her guard down.” O rly? He talks more about the needle she’s in control of. “Just jam that in my ass, you know what to do,” he says. O rly? x 5,000.

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And then, back at Bret’s room, we see Jes’ blurred out bare butt.

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Take that as you will. Bret probably did. “I would say it was the perfect ending of the perfect day. Minus the insulin shock I almost went into,” he explains. Heh.

And then: back to L.A. for the final elimination. Heather makes herself perfect.

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And I mean perfect.

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Scaling new heights, Heather has not disappointed in this final episode. Last time: I really will miss her hair most of all.

Meanwhile, Jes seems to be anguished in the back of a car.

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For some reason, I’m getting a total Prince of Tides vibe from her, and seriously, I have no idea why.

The girls show up with their claws out (the better to tease your hair with!):

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Bitchy to the end. That’s mah girlz!

Bret approaches.

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This decision will be hard. Heather’s a party girl and Jes is a melting iceberg. Who to pick? How ’bout both? No really: that’s what Bret suggests. “Is there any way both of you will be my girlfriend?” he asks. He is reminiscent of a fourth grader, but in a voice over, we come to learn that it’s a test! We see Heather saying, “I’d love to,” and Jes saying, “I can’t share somebody that I care about.” You know what this means…

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Heather’s out! And she’s pissed. She walks out without even so much as giving Bret a hug and then she rants in the limo that takes her home…

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I opened up my heart and he took advantage of it, and that’s an a****** for you. I let my guard down for once in my entire life and he took advantage of it. I don’t want anything that has to do with a f***in’ liar phony f***in’ piece of s*** disrespectful a***** motherf***er. He’s, like America’s a****** right now for doing this to me.” She really was a gem to the end, right? I can’t help but feel for her, but at the same time, I’m almost glad things turned out like this for Heather. If they hadn’t, we might not have been able to witness such a brutal take-down. Heather, it might not be Bret, but somebody loves ya.

Back at the mansion, Jes revels in victory to the tune of “Every Rose Has Its Thorn.”

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Bret thanks her for being so supportive of his diabeetus. He and Jes then share a passionate kiss…

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…and I think I hear angels sing because I’m a big dork.

And so, sadly, Rock of Love comes to an end. But not for long — next week’s reunion promises to shed some light on the saga of Bret and Jes. Missing it would be like missing an insulin shot for your soul. And who’s going to shoot you in the ass if you fall into a coma? That’s right: no one.

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