Rock of Love 2: Am I Ashamed?

So here’s the thing.  I’m a Rock of Love fan.  I never really liked Poison as a band, ever - didn’t fall for “every rose has its thorn” and “talk dirty to me” didn’t make me swoon.  I didn’t think Brett Micheals was all that and … you know all that; but in this strange world of reality shows where famous people search for love en masse requesting people to compete for their hand (note mostly women for men) participating in long a dragged out dog shows I have found that I like Brett Michaels.  I’ve watched him unedited too, he’s a bit of a goof ball, could probably stand to stop saying awesome, is a bit too free with his chatter about breasts, sex but still, there is something sort of endearing there.    I found myself DVRing the show.  Rooting for who I thought was best (I called Ambre way early) and defending that Brett was actually “a nice guy”.  Am I embarrassed?  Ashamed? Mortified that I found myself thinking “you know he seems like a fairly well rounded guy that i’d like to have a beer with.”  No. No I don’t.  I’m mortified that some of those women feel it’s totally reasonable to walk around with 1/2 their ass showing and that going into debt for breast enhancements is a wise financial decision; but I’m focusing now on Brett.  I can call him Brett too, because that’s the kind of guy he is; a rockstar with a body guard and more money than God who you can plotz down next to with a bucket of beer and fried chicken and say “holy shit Brett… can you still believe the Giants won the super bowl”.  I bet he farts too.