I’ll admit that I was tempted to head this post with a screen grab from when one of the male cast mates projectile vomits. I don’t know, it just felt like it’s more attention grabbing, but this being the blog that it is, I decided to go with the screen grab where a catfight erupts in a club and results with a girl getting shoved to the floor. My sensibilities are nothing if not consistent.
ANYWAYS, here’s a sizzle reel for MTV’s abandoned reality series Bridge & Tunnel. It’s basically like Jersey Shore, except it’s Staten Island. And everybody appears to live either at home or in a hotel? I don’t know. What I do know is that I haven’t gotten the trash TVtrain wreck tingles this bad since I saw the original Jersey Shore promo. The language is a little raw, but who cares? This show looks completely amazing:
Salty language abounds, so pinkies out and headphones up, y’all:
You know, I’d try and come up with something pithy about train wrecks that smell like pine trees or how it’s refreshing to see that Italian Americans aren’t the ethnic group determined to embarrass themselves on television by actin’ a damn fool, but you know what? I can have gay marriage, socialized medicine, biodegradable Sun Chip bags, AND this glorious mess? F*ck it, America, I’m out! RELEASE THE SNOOKI BOMB:
Oh lordy, y’all. So Jersey Shore‘s second season premiered last night, and much like the above image from Videogum of Snooki and Sammi Sweetheart listening intently to their conchs, it was a strange thing of booze-fueled, sh*t-talking, train-wreck-of-zen beauty, and how could it be anything but? Let’s discuss a few of my favorite moments, shall we?
Angelina’s returned prompted The Situation to deliver serious FACE:
Truer feelings of utter disbelief, total confusion, and SENSE OF IMPENDING RIDICUDRAMA have never been FACE’d. Well played, The Situation. Very well played, indeed.
And let’s not forget when Snooki gave a brief dissertation on revisionist history:
At a certain point, I stopped being excited for this train wreck to get back on the air and started being THE MOST excited for this train wreck to get back on the air. That moment was when Snooki went after Angelina like that bitch stole her pickle. Because that might be a metaphor about Vinnie’s sausage (hold the peppers), but it might not.
I mean, what can I say? I might be a sucker for this paragon of grace and beauty:
The simple reality of Jersey Shore is that, so long as you don’t think too hard about, everything about Jersey Shore is completely amazing, so it should go without saying that the nicknames are just another part of the equation. That said, not all Jersey Shore nicknames are created equal.
Take, for example, “Snooki” and “The Situation”:
Snooki’s actual name is Nicole. If etymology is the evolution of language, then getting from Nicole to Snooki is the linguistic equivalent of a tabby cat giving birth to a duck-billed platypus. Mike, on the other hand, calls his abs “The Situation,” and then sometimes he calls himself “The Situation,” which I suspect is less about about nicknames and more about his abs becoming self-aware, much like Skynet. One nickname’s a freak of nature, and the other’s a sentient robot. Both are signs of the Apocalypse.
Happy new year/decade, y’all! Seeing as it’s now January 5th, we should obviously file this under my inimitable sense of blog timeliness, but can you blame me? You’d be taking your sweet time getting back into the swing of things if you were missing the following deliciousness like the desert misses the rain:
Brokeback Mountain jokes are still relevant in 2010, right? Whatever. Between the chicken biscuits and that damn Polynesian sauce that they inexplicably insist on calling Polynesian sauce because I guess that’s less culturally insensitive than “Sweet and Sour sauce” (?), I’m already trying to figure out how I get myself to Paramus, New Jersey just so I can get myself another Chick-fil-A fix. Don’t judge me.
ANYWAYS, now that we’re back in action, I think it’s appropriate that we discuss the human train wreck that is season four of Bad Girls Club because I just got caught up this weekend. And because this catfight is the classiest thing I’ve seen in ages:
In preparation for tonight’s impending train wreck episode of Jersey Shore, I think it’s important to clear up a major Snooki-related controversy that’s taken our cultural conversation by storm:
This past weekend I decided to try to eat a pickle Snooki style, and you know what? YOU CAN’T SUCK PICKLE JUICE OUT OF PICKLES. Snooki wasn’t interested in passing down need-to-know techniques to enhance the fine art of pickle appreciation. No no, this was about oral shmex, plain and simple. I feel so naked, y’all, so very deceived.
And, yes, this obviously raises serious questions about her assertion that she invented the poof. Once you’re capable of telling lies about pickle juice, you’re capable of telling lies about anything.
Like I’ve previously observed, Jersey Shore is best enjoyed when don’t think about it. For example, Angelina left the house after her married boyfriend dumped her and she couldn’t be bothered to come into work because she kept coughing really loudly in hopes that someone would notice her (which is the first symptom that you’re too sick to work), Ronnie and Sammi bumped uglies and played putt putt, and JWOWW’s boyfriend dumped her over kissing Pauly D, but I’m leaving this Jersey Shore conversation at that because I’m already on the verge of blacking out from all this stupid.
But last night’s episode also had this cramaziness, which was stupid AND worth talking about:
Watching Snooki eat a pickle like she was giving was giving a juiced-up guido’s sausage a little mouth lovin’ took her into a whole new realm of train wreck love because I could empathize with her situation. Sure, I may not fellate my pickles when I eat them, but I do have a serious food crush on the kosher dills. Seriously, just thinking about that garlic and vinegary goodness has me hungry like I’m knocked up with quintuplets.
And to make this tangential discussion even more absurd (yes, it’s possible), my brain damn near fell out of my ear when I recognized the very brand of pickles that she was eating:
Sorry for the timeliness, y’all, but I’ve been stuck in deep contemplation over our most recent pop culture phenomenon that will surely be swept under the rug of irrelevancy as soon at something more stupefyingly trashtastic comes our way. Naturally I’m referring Jersey Shore:
And, while as much as I love the duck phone and the multiple references to puke breath and the guidos’ cartoonish hyper-masculinity and the simple fact that Pauly D owns a tanning bed IN HIS OWN HOME BEDROOM (!?!?!), I’ve also come to the decision that it is nearly impossible to talk about this show because it’s profoundly stupid. It’s basically a documentary that was rejected by PBS because PBS decided that it would be disingenuous to air a series that treats its subject matter like a comically exhibitionistic alien race as opposed to real people that are part of an actual cultural minority but was then saved when MTV came along and was like, “Standards, shmandards! TAKE US TO YOUR ARTIFICIALLY TANNED LEADER!!!” Really, attempting to apply any sort of critical thought to this show is like like begging for a brain aneurysm.
For example, I know that enjoying this show as a study in human train wrecks makes us all slightly worse people than we were before Jersey Shore was in our lives, but even acknowledging that makes my head hurt when I consider that these people are so confident in how they see themselves that they clearly could care less what the rest of us think. It can only explain this:
Here’s the promo for MTV’s newest reality series, Jersey Shore, which just might be the nadir pinnacle of television programming:
It’s basically the bastard baby between The Hills and The Real Housewives of New Jersey, so it’s going to be 2009′s prize gem of trash television. I personally hope that at least one girl pulls a Teresa and flips a table over, and I super hope at least one of the guys acts like this guy. Chances are they will at least that ridiculous and then some, and that can mean only one thing:
