From the Archives of the Shore

So here's a bit I wrote about a month and a half ago.  I was actually sitting in the library in between finals and had nothing else to do with my time.  Really, what was I supposed to do, study?  Anyways, it's all kind of pointless now since the topic was all about that flavor-of-week-bullshit Jersey Shore...which I dearly, dearly miss.

Enjoy.

So.  I have a headache.  A massive, Steve Urkel-esque tumor of a headache that repeatedly screams “did I do that?” right after my frontal lobe explodes.

I know, it’s been awhile.  Shit’s been busy, not much else to say. 

I really really really want to finish my weed-inspired tale of virgins and Easter grass, but it looks like that won’t happen for at least another week if not longer (Christmas break starts this Thursday night at 9pm and I doubt I’ll be sober until sometime on the morning of the 25^th).

So, this headache thing.  I’m coming back to it because it keeps coming back to me.  Honestly, the stress of the last two weeks of every semester is enough to turn people crazy...crazy enough to watch Jersey Shore, even.  Okay, okay.  Everyone is talking and writing and masturbating to this show already and I promise I’ll keep this short.  Honestly, though, what attracts even normal, level-headed people (like myself) to this show?  I don’t even watch television that often but I’ll be damned if Jersey Shore isn’t scheduled on the dvr right now.  And, after initially hearing about this new form of “entertainment” from multiple sources this weekend, I had a morbid curiosity to see it for myself.

Then, I watched it.

Enjoyed it, even. 

Was completely ready to name it a guilty pleasure of mine and never speak of it to the real world outside of this computer screen. 

Then, the unthinkable happened.  I read an article on Cracked.com by a writer that I very much respect (as much as you can when considering it’s Cracked) explaining that he too enjoyed the show with little to no knowledge of as to why.

I have no explanation to provide, either.

Though I do believe that Jersey Shore should be used to educate all the creationists in the world that evolution does indeed exist.  Confused?  Well, you can’t have evolution without de-evolution, which is proven to humanity through the eight “people” that star in this literal fuckfest of a television show.  No disrespect to Italians, I realize that these “people” have chosen to be the way they are perceived…but goddamn, really?  Guidos and Guidettes?  Are you really proud of who you are and what you do?  Seriously, these “people” spray tan themselves to a point where they can’t even be categorized into a color-based race system anymore.  Shit, I’ve seen Africans with lighter skin then these folks.  Basically, they’ve hit a point where someone out there is going to have to create a new term for these dipshits.  “Spray-tan Americans” or “Fucking Pieces of Shit Who Overcompensate by Painting Themselves to the Point Where They Can No Longer Be Seen Without the Assistance of Nightvision,” or even “Disillusioned Motherfuckers that Need Our Help Through Laughter and Ridicule….” 

Okay, maybe I do have an explanation for my love of the Shore.  It’s not politically correct nor is it morally okay to laugh at retarded people or those with mental health issues.  Honestly, I’d feel like a pretty horrible prick if I laughed at those less fortunate in the world. 

If you laughed at Chase No Face, well, fuck you. 

And really, I wouldn’t poke fun to begin with because, hell, that’s just not me.  Yet thanks to the douches and douchettes on this show, I finally have a group of people that I can feel good about making fun of because they’ve chosen to be literal retards.  It’s kind of like that episode of South Park in which the boys had the definition of “faggot” changed to represent those individuals that ride Harley Davidson Motorcycles.  I, for one, am all for changing the definition of “retardation” to represent Guidos and Guiddettes.

Seriously, these “people” are Italian-Americans.  Be proud of who you are!  It’s been a shit-ton of a long time since Italians were discriminated against in America, so I don’t see why you’re trying so hard not to be Italian.  Don’t give me that bullshit about how being a Guido is so Italian.  You can wave your little Italian flags and use all your Italian slang, but I bet if I go to Italy I won’t  see a million spray-tanned black guys on steroids running around fucking anything with a hole and a pulse.  I’d wager money on that, even. 

Still, I’d almost call it a privilege to watch Jersey Shore.

For those of you who don’t “get” the Shore and think it’s just dumb television (which, I guess, I can’t really argue against when it comes to the “stupid” part), I almost feel as if you think this way because you may see just a little bit of yourself in some of those Guidos and Guidettes.  Maybe you do frequent clubs and fuck multiple individuals on such a consistent basis that you could literally repopulate the world if nuclear holocaust occurred tomorrow morning.  Perhaps you just enjoy spray tanning, hair gel, and Axe body spray to the point where you are no longer genetically considered a human being.  Or maybe you just think you’re above it all (which, I hate to break it to you, you’re not, Mikey).

Watching the Shore is like looking into America’s deepest, darkest regions of consumerist hell.  Only in America can you be someone you’re not through the use of beauty products.  Although honestly, I’m really not sure what these people are trying to become with all the spray tanning and hair gel and alcohol.  A new race?  I guess we already discussed that one but still, I’m baffled.  Maybe  the guys watched too much Dragon Ball Z as kids and maybe the women watched too much…fuck if I know.  God, that one chick looks like a chubby Smurf whose been marinated in liquid shit for ten years of her life.

"The Situation" ...minus the book...though not completely ruling out the whole tail thing.

Gross.