excerpt from the michaels interview (elle.com)
After some crazy bus rides and a couple close calls, the rock star with a reality show is still rollin'
By Andrew Goldman |
Photo: Nancy Mazzei
As the longtime lead singer of Poison, a band that came to be in the ’80s seemingly composed of equal parts attitude and hairspray, Bret Michaels has probably seen and experienced levels of sexual debauchery that none of us could even fathom. So it’s not surprising that the 46-year-old has soldiered through three seasons of the VH1
Rock of Love franchise sporting the same bemused attitude about the antics of the dipsomaniacal gaggle of chicks fighting over him as Mrs. Garrett had while minding her charges in
The Facts of Life. And even though Michaels might have swapped some major spit with his ROL potential mates, all the truly dirty deeds culled from his life spent in and out of spandex can be found within the pages of his brand-new memoir,
Bret Michaels: Roses & Thorns.
ELLE: Do you recall the moment you realized you were a sexual being?
BRET MICHAELS: Vividly. I was digging through my father’s drawer, when I found a thicker magazine than usual: the Women of the Office edition of
Playboy—you know, that whole hot, sexy miniskirt but she’s got the glasses on thing. I assumed this was what every girl who worked in an office looked like and did. I thought, No wonder my dad likes going to work.
ELLE: I was on the
Rock of Love message board on VH1.com and couldn’t help noticing the word
skanky in reference to some of the women who’ve been on the show.
BM: There are definitely some girls who come on the show to party, and there are a few I’m not going to take home to Grandma. But I try to never use the words
skanky or
sl*tty. I don’t call any of them out like that. And the ones who just want to have fun and then go? It’s not a horrible thing. We don’t have to own each other’s souls to have a night of fun. I happen to be thankful for the gifts they give me.
ELLE: You’re the lead singer, and yet have any women boarded the tour bus and rebuffed your advances?
BM: It doesn’t suck being the lead singer in the band, but when they come on the bus, they’re apprehensive because they’re picturing a mass orgy with a bunch of unbathed crew guys, so it actually takes more time than you would think. If you don’t become octopus arms to them instantly, I think their guard goes down and they enjoy hanging with you, whatever that becomes.
ELLE: When you look back at your career, are you remorseful about anything that happened with a woman on the bus?
BM: I’ve never done anything the two of us didn’t agree to tango on. Coming from a blue-collar Pennsylvania background and having two daughters and two sisters, it’s just not my thing. There may have been a few nights I’ve gotten more hammered than usual and not followed all the guidelines of this day and age, but never a situation where I regretted something I’d done.
ELLE: Was there ever a female fan invited onto the bus who proved to be more trouble than her company was worth?
BM: We have lots of nights where people get wasted drunk. Sometimes they’ll bring a friend as a designated [driver], occasionally known as the friendosaurus.
ELLE: Do the friends often resemble dinosaurs?
BM: No. The term
friendosaurus isn’t about the girl being unattractive. The friendosaurus knows I’m interested in her friend, and she’s the doubting sober driver who’s saying, “This is ridiculous! Let’s get out of here.” So I immediately befriend the friendosaurus.
ELLE: Wily. But will the friendosaurus ever confuse this attention for affection?
BM: Yes. And occasionally I’ve enjoyed both at the same time.