And then, it's party time! Bret blows out the candles on two sorry looking cakes. There are, like, 120 candles, which is probably how old everyone thinks Bret is. What is Bret's birthday wish, you may ask? "To have the most awesome, kick-ass time." It's like he breathes poetry. Bret hooks up his boom box to a PA, and, in true Bret Michaels fashion, plays, "Nothin' But a Good Time." As the girls get down and the swinging on the pole starts, Magdalena takes a break outside. She tells us that she's not the kind of person to hang on a guy's neck to get his attention. Hopefully not, since the guy would be on the ground in about half a second. She's built like a fucking anchor. The party is at such a level that even the non-whores are on the pole. Hey Jes and Mia! And then, out of nowhere, it happens. SAM IS ON THE POLE. She's wearing capri length black denim, but still. She shakes it like that nanny who ended up going to trial. As Bret says, her creature of sexual desire finally exploded. That sounds...unhygienic. He is so into it that I think he might have to tie his nuts into a slip knot. Unskinny bop, indeed.
Lacey notices that Sam is getting Bret's attention, so she concocts a complicated plan to go hang on him. Will she never stop with her innovative scheming? Heather employs the same strategy, and says that it's all for the greater good of making Sam jealous. At one point Lacey is actually, like, nuzzling his neck. He is totally going to get a boil in that spot. The plan works. Sam can't take it, and heads off to her room to write in her creepy little journal. She says it's hard to see other girls hanging on the object of her affection when she wants to be that girl. So just go throw your puss in the mix. It's not rocket science.
The next morning, Sam is in a foul mood. She tells Lacey to get out of her fucking face. In all fairness, I would greet every day with the same sentiment were I in that house. Plus, I'm guessing that Sam is suffering from what Dr. Oz recently informed me is called "Safe Toilet Syndrome." The bitch hasn't pooped in, like, three weeks, is what I'm saying. Cut her some slack. It's probably even starting to reabsorb. Lacey stage whispers to Heather that Sam is losing it. Heather's response? "Cool." Oh, and then fucking Lacey decides that it's important for Bret to know that Sam's freaking out, so she takes it upon herself to talk to him. I would love to install an invisible fence right in front of his door. "Knock knock...ow! Knock knock...ow! Knock knock...ow!" Lacey knocks and says, "Rise and shine." In the words of Magdalena, "If he's locked in his room, it means he doesn't f@*#!$ wanna see you. How 'bout it?" The "How 'bout it?" kills me. Magdalena interviews that Heather and Lacey are like hyenas always trying to get on Bret. She thinks it's disrespectful. It also wafts of the stank of desperation. How 'bout it?