Lately I've been re-watching the third season of the show, "Rock of Love Bus" in which Bret once again attempts to find true love by taking a handful of skanks on the road with him for a nation-wide tour. So here I am, watching this show, and it hits me- I AM Bret Michaels.
Exhibit A:
Now, receptive language disorders are nothing to joke about. But does this not describe my everyday life? Bret exhibits some fancy communication skills unparalled by many men today in his attempt at facilitating conversation with individuals* who really don't have the capability to hold up their end of a conversation. It's uncanny the numerous times per day I am given the same kinds of blank stares I see on the show and I literally think to myself, "How much more can I possibly break this down?"
If I had Bret's blonde extensions, I'd probably want to pull them out from time to time.
*"strippers"
Exhibit B:
This is Rodeo from Season 2 of Rock of Love and here she's telling it to us straight what it takes to make it in the pediatric world. Bret, too, is a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll, just like myself. And he has successfully (from what I can ascertain) raised two children with only a cowboy hat and rockin' attitude. I'm still working on the cowboy hat, it kind of gets in the way with all the moving around I do but I know kids love me just cause of the vibe I put out there. Kids can tell. They KNOW you're a rockstar and will respect you for it.
Exhibit C:
Bret is analytical. He makes every attempt to understand a girl (however little there may be to understand) but isn't afraid to call them out on their bullshit when he knows he's reached the last layer of the onion.
I like to call this the, "Your Child Is Not Going To Grow Out of Their Non-Developmental Sound Distortions So Stop Arguing With Me About It" face.
Exhibit D:
Bret clearly understands that his hair is the source of all his power. I, in a similar vein, attempt to compensate for my lack of height with seriously long and vivacious hair. Except it's not vivacious, just long. Like I said, me and Bret, two of a kind.
Exhibit E:
"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again" goes the old adage. Well, Bret took three seasons of asking, "Wassa goin on'?" to discover exactly what was going on- he didn't really know what he wanted, or that at least what he thought he wanted was not functional for his daily life. Sometimes it takes me multiple go's at addressing a particular goal before I realize that what I want to do is not and never will be the right way to go about things if I want to see improvement. Maybe the best thing to do is to invite all my clients and their parents on the road with me. "Rock of Therapy Bus"? I can see it.
Exhibit F:
You can't turn a hoe into a housewife, and you can't turn a dysfunctional parent into a functional one in sporadic thirty-minute sessions.
Do you have any reality TV addictions? Can you relate to anyone as I do the Bretster?
I think I'll just start discharging kids by saying, "Your tour ends here."
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