Formerly splendid white trash slutfest Rock of Love 2 with Bret Michaels has tragically become a spectacular mess of absolute nothingness and a sad, sad excuse for tawdry reality television. Worse than that Jessica Simpson/Nick Lachey snoozefest. Worse than this whole Scott Baio nonsense. Even worse than the time Anna Nicole, God rest her soul, asked for a pickle.

We at Radar would like nothing more than to provide a smart, entertaining line through last night's eighth installment. But it was almost as if VH1 took the most boring, repetitive moments of this season, edited them together, and presented them as some sort of monotonous, half-assed episode. And no one even took her top off.

The six remaining girls were split into two groups and presented with the uninspired challenge of creating music videos. They both blew. The only surprise was that neither available song was the washed-up one hit wonder's one hit "Every Rose Has Its Thorn." Ambre, Kristy Joe, and Megan won. They got dates. They made out. Blah, blah, blah. The real winner was STDs.

Even the requisite dating-show drama was tedious, probably because we've already learned that Bret Michaels either loves annoying, crazy women with husbands or the TV they help create—which this show was for like three, maybe four episodes. "Very hot. Very annoying. Mostly hot," Michaels said of the always crying, twice married (still is), totally emotionally unstable Kristy Joe. We beg to differ. Very hot: true. Very annoying: much, much more true. Put this show in the vault and maybe it will age to ironic perfection in a couple of decades. Like Poison.

And so last night Bret found himself at elimination, giving the kindergarten-teacheresque, always super-excited Ambre the first pass and eliminating the only slightly comical, self-aware contestant—squeaky-voiced, pointy-faced Megan in favor of the hot, insufferable Kristy Joe, who decided, after eight episodes of painful-to-watch self exploration, that she must, after all, go home to sort out her bullshit. So she leaves, Megan stays, and, yawn, Michaels got his feelings hurt and everyone prattled on and on about how he deserves better. Crack a Bret Brew and wash it all away until next week, when the first season's almost-winner, a reliably entertaining stripper, returns to make the girls take their clothes off and puke into trash cans. That actually sounds promising.