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Sorry, Edgar Allen Poe

Edgarallanpoe Authored by super special guest contributor and honorary MamaPop Betch, Metalia of the appropriately titled Metalia

Considering my love of all things pop culture-related, it’s hard to believe that I didn’t see the movie Road House until the ripe old age of 26. (For those of you keeping score at home, I’m now 28.) I was dazed by it, to be honest--the incredibad dialogue, the amazing (by which I mean, “cringe-inducing”) fight sequences, and above all, the unholy spectre Patrick Swayze’s free-swinging man junk, constantly threatening to escape his tiny Sweatpants of Offensive Inappropriateness.

The problem when dealing with a spectacle of such unmitigated cheesiness as this movie, however, is that pretty much everything that can be written about it, already has been. And so, I decided to craft a post about it in poetic form, thus putting a new spin on one of the worst movies EVER. I’ve since taken this approach for a number of simultaneously maligned/beloved crap tv shows, and I’m honored to share two of my favorites with you today (a paean to The Real Housewives is also in the works).


The Models (In the style of Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven")

Once upon a weeknight dreary,
While I pondered week and weary
After concluding that all of Wednesday night TV was a bore…
Suddenly there came a sound, of 20 girls jumping around,
Each one looking more and more like a tarted-up old whore.

"'Tis some commercial!" I muttered, "for some tarted-up old whores-
"Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was way back in September,
Before reruns had concluded and TV was good again.
Eagerly I hoped for my shows, because the reruns really did blow.
Wished for my shows to return, and end this dullness evermore.

Back I turned to watch the antics, of the girls, more and more frantic.
As they jumped around while crying, pictures in their hands.
Deep into the distance, peering, long they stood there, wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams, and hoisting up their cans.

Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a woman, with a weave in her hair,
Appeared before the girls and softly whispered "hush" to them.
Wearing a tunic with golden glitter, "Ty" selected her picks of the litter,
Thirteen girls to appear on a little show called ANTM.
Quoth the Tyra, "Keep it fierce."

The year was '03, there was nothing else on; I was quite hooked in short order.
Bald caps, swimsuits, catfights, and the occasional eating disorder.
I always laughed aloud at Tyra's sanctimonious speeches.
As if she alone could stop the wrath of 13 rampaging bitches.
Quoth the Tyra, "Keep it fierce."

Five years of the show have now passed by, and with them, memories,
Some good, some bad, some dumb (like the thing with the vandalized brownies).
But still I watch this ridiculous show; I can't lie, there have been some tears.
'Cuz though it's dumb and laughably fake, you can't deny that the girls? WERE FIERCE.

. . . . .


Rock of Love: Whore Bus

I can't recall where I first heard
About the wonder that is Rock of Love.
But I tell you this; I shan't soon forget
This wonderful gift from above.

For who among us hasn't rocked out
To "Every Rose Has Its Thorn"?
Bret Michaels would croon, the ladies would swoon
As the cowboy sang his "sad, sad song."

But alas, Bret was lonely and the groupies grew…icky.
And were they still purty? NO.
So he filled up some buses with hooch and fake fur,
And a myriad of dirty hos.

Classy behavior took a leave of absence as the girls piled onto the buses.
Boob jobs abounded, as did minidresses and of course, extensions, galore.
There were many hot messes with talons and clear heels;
All of them bore the mark of the whore.

From among these skanks, Bret would choose only one;
A queen from among all the floozies.
If you ask me, I think he should simply choose
The "lady" who seems the least…oozy.

Because these girls look…well, how do I put it?
Their appearances give me bad dreams.
I fervently hope that our dear old Bret
Has received all required vaccines.

And speaking of Bret, what is up with his face?
Can you believe it once rocked a nation?
C'mon, even Axl knew when to say when
To guyliner and the foundation.

But back to the ladies (it's why you're all here).
Some of them seem to be…well, simple.
Like the girl who called herself an "animal traineress"
Or the one who seems to have PIERCED DIMPLES.

Cliques quickly formed (as they often do);
The "blondtourage" and the brunettes:
Ex-porn stars, Class-A Morons,
And a former Penthouse Pet.

I truly couldn't believe it, though,
When a girl got totally wasted;
Puked Doritos and then kissed Brett, who said:
"It's the best Dorito [he'd] tasted."

This really happened as I say it did.
A lady may have also served shots from her nethers;
But my memory's mercifully faded.

I felt like I needed to shower after watching;
This show is really pretty bleak.
But then, I'd be lying if I tried to tell you
I wasn't going to watch it next week.

. . . . .
Visit Metalia at Metalia

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Metalia, you are a genius. I am honored to be your friend because I'm pretty sure I shouldn't really be allowed to be anywhere in the orbit of your greatness!

Two words: AWE. SOME.


this was totally FIERCE, woman.

and the vandalized brownies. bwahahahah!


Brilliant! Bloody brilliant!


That was fantastic.

I'm disturbed by the fact that Bret Michaels is prettier in that photo than most of the women.

Kerri Anne

The girl who looked like a man who had injected collagen into her entire body and couldn't stand up straight EVER, and said she was a DJ before reading Brett a poem on STD fliers? (We took to calling her "DJ Trans Am".)

Knowing she exists pretty much makes my life.

Also! ANTM NEXT Wednesday. I cannot wait.

Amy H

VERY CLEVER. Smart and funny.

Rebecca (Bearca)

If there was a special office called Poet-in-Residence of the Internet? YOU WOULD BE IT.

Love ya baby.

Fairly Odd Mother

Whoa, this was awesome. So much more awesome than Bret Michaels eyeliner which he applies more skillfully than I ever could.

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