Okay. So the ratings weren't very good. The reviews were scathing. The general interest in the media was virtually non-existent. But you know what: it's UPN! What the hell else are they going to run? You can only show so much wrestling and new versions of Star Trek on one network. So I guess we're stuck with Chains of Love for at least five more weeks. Let's end the pain as quickly as possible and get started, shall we?
We get the same opening as last week, which I thankfully don't care enough to alter and will just repeat with minor changes: A woman's voice. A shot of Pacific Coast Highway, minus Jake Busey driving his Harley high on Quaaludes heading to pick up his dad from the methadone clinic. The woman: "The California coastline. An inspiring stretch of beauty and tranquility." Rock and roll! Shots that look like left over footage from Blind Date! Oops, it's made by the same shitty production company. Well, there you go. Shot of dating hijinx continue as the chick blahs, "Now the new series Chains of Love shatters that calm as one gutsy" -- they added the "gutsy" for some reason --"man or woman is chained to four members of the opposite sex. Witness the anger. The honesty. The competition. And the connection. In this episode, a woman begins hooked to four men but will end up with only one. There is no way to escape. Twenty-four hours a day, everywhere they go, everything they do, they will be linked together." A ho by a pool standing in a very awkward spokesmodel pose. Blair Witch noise. "Hi, I'm Madison Michelle. Welcome to Chains of Love." Lord. Here's the funny thing: someone is getting paid to write that crappy, nonsensical voice-over. Here's the sad thing: someone is getting paid to write that crappy, nonsensical voice-over, and it's not me.
So MM voice-overs that this week Stephanie, a writer and model, will be moving into the house. (Funnily enough, I don't buy that she is either.) And, aw, it's the same gorgeous house, but man, what a rip-off. I sure hope they changed the sheets after last week. They show us the house, including the big bed where nothing will happen because this show is just that lame. Maybe some cuddling, but I can get that with my cat if I could only get her to hold still. So Stephanie is jumping around her apartment in her Jordache jeans, telling us that she is adventurous. Then she holds up some panties and t-shirts airbrushed with sayings like "Bad Girl" and "Dynamite" and says, "I just have this, like, innate ability to design clothes." Ha. Seriously, it is just shitty airbrushing on clothes. It's the exact shit you get some stoner at the beach to do out of the back of his van for five bucks and a couple smokes. Well, now I'm impressed, yo -- she can not only model and write, but she can spray-paint "Angel" onto the front of a g-string. Fucking renaissance woman, this one. I won't mention the fact that Stephanie looks like she's been rode hard and put away wet. That would just be mean.