So this whole story about Paris Hilton making out with and lapdancing Cisco Adler . . . well Miss Lennox just doesn’t get it. I’m beginning to think that if you are part of young Hollywood that it’s just obligatory to hook up with anyone in your cohort. Typically I wouldn’t care who Paris hooks up with—I mean who can keep up anyway?—but in this case she hooked up with someone who I passed over, and with good reason . . . he’s Cisco Adler, ex fiancé of Kimberley Stewart, ex-boyfriend of Mischa Barton, perhaps best known for his saggy, elephant balls which accompany any internet posting of him, including this one, and the epitome of dirty–like if you even breathed in the air he exhaled you would catch something super virulent.

My run-in with Cisco goes like this . . . last December my best friend and I went to see Toby Rand’s band Juke Kartel play at a small club in Atlanta. In fact, it was a small enough venue that we ran right into Toby at the bar. We started to talk to him only another guy in his group was doing all the talking, if you could call it that. He was obviously blitzed and rambling so incoherently that I thought he was part of Toby’s band because he seemed to be speaking with an accent (Juke Kartel is from Australia). He blubbered his way through telling me what nice tits I had, and that was basically the only part of what he said that I understood.

Later on that evening when the band Whitestarr took the stage, we realized the rambling, dirty drunk was their lead singer. I then realized he was Cisco Adler, i.e. at the time, Mischa Barton’s boyfriend. On stage he was quite appalling. He kept pulling his jeans down lower and lower so that what was showing bypassed his Happy Trail and moved right onto Pubeland. And he kept touching himself. I’m not sure why.

When Whitestarr finished, Cisco walked into the audience and somehow found his way to me. I didn’t know he was there until I felt someone grab my left boob from behind. I pushed the hand away, whipped around, and asked what the hell he was doing. “I couldn’t resist. Your tits are so nice,” he casually explained. Classy! I laughed really loudly out of disgust and shot him an eat-shit look. “So you’re not going to sleep with me, I take it?” he asked and pouted. Uhhhh, hell no! “Not even a kiss?” he begged and put his arms around me from behind. Again, hell no. Then my best friend hit him with her purse and told him he was disgusting, and he walked away, most likely to try his luck on someone else.

As for me, I’ll leave the making out with Cisco Adler to skanky girls such as Paris, thank you. And as for Cisco, I’m newly pissed at him. Now, every time the damn commercial for his upcoming VH1 show, “The Rock Life,” comes on my boyfriend goes, “That’s the dude that grabbed your tits! I’ll fucking kill that punk!” Every time. You know how annoying it is to hear my boyfriend get all macho and threaten to kill someone one TV? Yeah, thanks a lot Cisco!

Move over Charm School girls–there are some new sluts in town!

Tonight VH1 premiered Rock of Love, and in doing so brought the Reality Skank Factor up to a whole new level. Tonight we have the pleasure of meeting 25 (very questionably) “beautiful” women brought to L.A. with the purpose of wooing Bret Michaels, or as contestant Brandi M. eloquently puts it, “I’m here to get me some rocker ass.”

Let’s view the show by Miss Lennox’s estimated statistics, shall we?

• Percentage of individual camera time contestants use to refer to each other as “bitch,” “slut,” “whore,” or “dumb”: 60%
• Percentage of self-confessed strippers or those who I’d peg for strippers: 80%
• Percentage of contestants with implants: 70%
• Percentage of contestants who look like they would kick Bret’s ass if he cheated on them: 80%. They’re incredibly rough looking.

Rough looking yes, but these classy women have quite a way with words. Brandi M. woos Bret with the subtle line, “I am a Scorpio so I’m ruled by my genitals.” Of course she makes it past tonight’s elimination. Moreover, Brandi C. lets Bret know that she’s not a jealous girl as she whispers in his ear that she’ll let him have several girlfriends in addition to her, as long as she remains Queen Bitch. After this romantic murmuring, the audience knows she will sail through to the next round of the competition for Bret’s heart cock.

Like Tiffany Patterson before her (“Miss New York” on both Flavor of Love seasons), Rock of Love’s Tiffany is the show’s standout. By standout I mean the sloppiest, drunkest, nastiest, drama-filled, meth-faced, completely insane girl of them all. Bret’s take on Tiffany: “I was kind of turned on a little bit, but I also had a feeling she was trying to kill me. She beat my penis to a pulp.” Come on, with that assessment was there any doubt that Tiffany would survive this first elimination ceremony?

Raven, however, prefers the boring-as-shit approach of rambling incessantly about how intelligent she is. But intelligence doesn’t work on Bret Michaels, sweetie, and besides I’m rather certain that referring to yourself as “obtuse” means that you are indeed stupid and not smart. Then again I’m not surprised at Raven’s word misuse since in our first introduction to her she says that “Every Thorn Has Its Rose” [sic] is a poignant song.

And Bret? Well when you see and hear Bret in action, it’s just difficult to understand why he hasn’t met the love of his life yet. I mean here’s a 44 year old man who clearly knows what he likes in women. He explains about Brandi C., “Her heaving well-implanted breasts caught my eye immediately.” Bret knows what is important for a successful relationship and will continue to apply his exacting standards to whittle this (cess)pool of now 16 women down to his special one.

With all this trash and drama will I be watching next week? You betcha, honey. After all, I’m convinced there will be multiple reveals of porn history and at least one in the group will turn out to be a transvestite–in fact I’d put money on 6’3” Magdalena really turning out to be man.

Miss Lennox wouldn’t miss an episode for the world!