I didn't intend to watch Rock of Love, the new VH1 show in which Poison lead singer Bret Michaels tries to find a date or love of his life or whatever, but I stumbled across it, and then I couldn't stop watching. I mean, I even told the TiVo not record Entourage so I could watch the last half-hour, and I never miss Entourage.

So what kept me in? Oh, I don't know, maybe the white-trash insanity, the outlandishness of the contestants, and unbeatable quotability.

"We have a lot of strippers in the house," says one woman. "We also have a pole." (Yes, you can guess what happened next.)

"I broke my feet, and I was paralyzed for a while," says a contestant named Rodeo, who seems to be unfamiliar with the concept she is describing.

"I'm kind of like Jessica Simpson," said an unfortunate young woman named Jessica who more resembled Hatchet-face from Cry-Baby.

There was the five girls being cut by security dude Steve, seemingly based on looks alone. And Tiffany, one of those who was cut, begging her way back into the house and then proceeding to get sloppy drunk to an unreal degree. There was Magdalena complaining about the "manliness" of personal trainer Rodeo, while she herself sounded entirely male. One of two Brandis declared her friendship with "the other blonde" and the screeched like crazy for the entire episode, trying to get Bret's attention. And, of course, there was the declaration that of all the women on the show, only two still had their natural breasts.

I'd hazard a guess that on this competition, those two don't stand a chance.