Part two [only part one has been dl'd, um, are you trying to tell me something? Boring? Got it.]
If I may, this show is like a winter treat for me. Crazy people that imagine they're smarter than they are, sexy shenanigans, bad tans and skin, over the top materialism. THANK YOU, UNIVERSE!
Hi, y'all, Stoney here with your weekly update on the greatest anthropological discovery of our time, an MTV show called Jersey Shore. This is your warning that these people are foul mouthed, so it's only appropriate that I am, too. I don' mean no disrespect, I'm respectful, dat's why I cover my mouth when I talk. Having said that, if you's upset by me droppin some Eff bombs, you're a pussy. No offense.
Dis is the true story of 8 hotties picked ta live in a house (yea!) work together, sorta, have their love lives taped and find out what happens when people stop being something called “polite” and start getting' real. Da real world, Oompah Loompahland.
It's episode two and lemme sum it up with one word: total domination.
Here's the player list:
- Pauly D, aka Cactus head, aka Cadillac tats, aka DJ Paulie.
- Mike da Situation, aka The position (as in, assume the) aka Mama's boy wit da cryin' over girls all the time
- Ronnie, aka Inflatable David Boreanaz because he looks like someone squashed Dave by a foot, then put a bike pump in his mouth and puffed him out. He's the one with the giant cross on his back, because he loves his mutha, god willing you should get to meet her one day.
- Vinny, aka sweat pits, aka fist pumpin' like chaaamps, aka Brow Wax. For a goomba, this guy has the most beautifully sculpted eye brows this side of Miss USA, I'm just sayin'.
- Nicole, aka Snookie, Sneakers, Snickers, Snatch-blast. She's the pocket hoo-ah who just wants attention. Her own words.
- Sammi Sweetheart, aka snap-in extensions
- Jenni, aka J-Woww – with three w's, make no mistake – aka white yarn hair extensions. I had a doll when I was little girl, Tuesday Weld. She had blond hair in the back and black hair in the front. You could swivel her scalp and change her hair color. And this is exactly what Jwow looks like if you threw in a little Christina Aguillera, so I'm calling her Weldulerra.
- Angelina, aka trash bags. This is the chick that thinks she's Kim Kardashian, and brought everything in some black Hefty bags. Trash bags, it is.
The show starts off with Weldulerra playing like she doesn't remember getting trashed. “What did you guys do, because I just came home and read catalogs, I didn't do nuthin like make out with no dudes and play with their penis piercings. Then I did my catechism, and went to bed with my leopard eye covers, because I'm classy. I gotta boyfriend, don' forget.”
Cactus head and Ronnie aren't having any of it, and Weldulerra looks concerned. Or hungover. It's hard to tell the difference on her. Cactus sums it up.
“She feels like a trash bag because she kissed me wid her tongue.“
I don't know if that's a commentary on his mouth STDs or her loose sense of right and wrong. It's probably a mixture of both.
Da Situation and Sammi have to work together, which is awkward as Da Situation had been braggin' on how they'd hook up and Sammi hooked up with inflatable Dave instead. Now Da Situation's MO is to get her to want him, then he'll deny her. Ooooh, that'll show her! She's acting like she never had interest in him, which is probably her way of saving face. She's a little embarrassed, and it's not clear if it's because of his schnozz , his pencil neck, or his talking about himself in the third person. Probably a little of all three.
He keeps flinging compliments her way. “You look very beautiful today, no seriously. I like how ya eye lashes make you look like you've got angel wings on ya face and ya flip flops make ya feet look like an ass. That's hot, no offense.”
This is the guy with that kind of “game.” The guy that calls it a game. This is the kind of guy that asks girls, “How about a pizza and a fuck?” and when she slaps him, “What? You don't like pizza?”
or “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”
or “How do you like ya eggs, because I'm totally cookin' you breakfast like a gentleman. I'll serve you orange juice to get the taste of my semen out-cha mouf, because I'm very respectful.”
Back to the house with Snookie looking totally beat in a “training to be a porn star” hat and a jar of pickles. Yes, you heard me, a whole jar of pickles. The guys, of course, are watching her and laughing.
“Whaa? Pickles is my thing!”
“I like to suck out all the juice first.”
We know, honey, we know.
“Snickers, ya super good at suckin, I can tell.”
“Aww, thanks, you guys.”
We have a montage (a time flowing montage!) of Ronnie, aka Inflatable Dave, and Sammi getting closer. Ronnie starts laughing a lot, and he has the high-pitched breathy laugh that I always imagined Lord Voldemort would sound like.
I digress. Back to love n' shit.
Weldulerra's boyfriend shows up (in the requisite Ed Hardy) with roses for her and a bit of foreshadow.
“You do anything with a dude and I'm Audi. Love you, baby.”
Bum bum buuuuuum!
“Will Weldulerra be able to remain faithful to her man? Tune in to find out!”
Trash bag's BFFs show up. There's some crap about Trash bags boyfriend not wanting to talk to her on the phone ever, and it being impossible to see him, and there's a big clue by four for everyone. Oh, I hope those crazy kids can make it work!
Time to party, it's only been a few hours since we took some shots!
There's a scene of everyone getting gussied up and it's the guys using the hair dryers. Which is hilarious because they have shaved heads, minus DJ Pauly. The guys are lip glossed, the girls have their shortest skirts on, time to hit Headliners!
I love how much they all love dancing, and yet NONE OF THEM CAN DANCE. The guys basically fist pump or grind up against girls, not leaving me with any real confidence in some skills, if you know what I mean. Snickles especially loves to dance, and the poor tiny dear looks like Elaine from Seinfeld, but while being electrocuted. Watch your glasses and privates, I'm saying. A whole lotta flailing goin' on.
Trash bags' boyfriend shows up, dumps her, she tries to dump him retroactively, and the show tries to make me care about her. I don't. It's revealed that her man is married and they've been dating for several months. So not only is she completely tacky, she's also a complete failure as a mistress. You need to learn to hold off the goods until he shows up with at least a duffel bag, sweets. Come on. You can't leverage a Samsonite?
Flounce scene, and the party's over for the night, it seems.
The condition on which they get to stay in the house is that they have to work at the landlord's tee shirt shop. Not too challenging, it's friggin' tee shirts on a boardwalk. It's not like they're smoke jumpers in the Rockies, for crying out loud.
Brow Wax and Trash bags are up to work next, and Brow Wax shows up, even after a hard night of fist pumping and arm pit sweating. To the guys credit, each of them are always on time, ready to work, and seem to have great work ethic. Or at the very least, a BASIC work ethic. The girls? Not so much.
Trash bags, a former bartender who scoffed at the t-shirt job by saying “I'm a bartender. I do great things.” doesn't go to work as scheduled. “It's a pain in my ass.”
She starts coughing and looking pathetic around her room mates, and honey, WE ALL KNOW THAT TRICK. Those of us that grew up reading remember little Peggy Ann McKay who could not go to school today. The house they're staying in is BEHIND the store. Like, easy walking distance. And she ain't bovvered to walk in there and say “I'm not working today.” Or even easier, pick up the phone. Naw, it's a pain in her ass. She does great things. Like give herself a mani-pedi.
She finally walks over there, two hours late, and tells her boss that she's not working (no, really?) and it's because she and her boyfriend broke up. Her boss does not give a rat's ass. Her response?
“You're not getting it. Are you getting it?”
I get that you're a self-important douche-nozzle that thinks you're the center of the universe, is that what we're supposed to get?
She flounces, which for those keeping score, is #2, and we're graced with a voice over of her feelings on the matter.
“I don't gotta do what I don't wanna do.”
And that is why, darlin', you have trash bags instead of a freaking rolling bag. Or even a tote, do you even have a TOTE bag? They give those things away at the market, for crying out loud.
“It was common courtesy fa me to even walk over there.”
Ahahaha! Oh, sugar butt, let me explain to you what common courtesy actually is:
- holding the door for someone
- saying “thank you”
- asking if anyone wants some of the milk before you drink out of the jug
Coming to work 2 hours late with attitude and no explanation doesn't make the list, numb nuts.
The landlord is hot on her heels and she hides in the bathroom, but tries to put up face as if she's not scared. Hilarious. She makes him talk to her through the bathroom door. “What are you 15? Ya fired, pack ya bags, you're outta here.”
Good fa you, landlord.
Snookie chastizes her, and when Snickles sounds more grown up than you, we have our selves a Situation.
DID SOMEBODY CALL ME? Jesus, dude, pack it up, the grown ups are talking.
Speaking of packing, Trash bags packs her things, I swear to god, back into some more trash bags. (There's a clip of Snickles from the ep before and her luggage. This will be important in a minute.) Trash bags tries to linger around everyone hoping they'll beg her to stay. Um, they don't. BYE! C-Ya! She drags off a massive space bag filled with laundry and the editors cut to a shot of a lone suitcase by her car, one of Snookie's. Ha ha, I see what you did there, editor person.
Weldulerra finally comes clean to her boyfriend, who promptly hangs up on her. Are they over? She's giving it 24 hours to find out, and then “it's on” because she's “been living up here like a nun.” A nun that hooks up with the DJ and then later licks his penis piercing, those nuns?
By the way, they can be found at the Church of the Spandex Thong. Or was it Our Lady of the Holy SHIT you're Huge? I get them mixed up. Decent choir, huge cans. They wear short habits, too, it's friggin' hot. No disrespect, because I love the virgin Mary very much.
Snookie's BFF shows up, a total Butterface. Da Situation is drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Or a douchetard to a vodka party.
They liquor up before they need to liquor up by hitting a half-empty bar and dance alone on the dance floor. A lone 'roided up scrote-tard stares at them with rape eyes and a weak bit of clapping. HOT. They decide to ditch the sitch and hit the hot tub. I smell shenanigans afoot!
Sami and Ronnie, meanwhile, head out for an ideal date of buying gold jew-ry, shoppin' for hummers and eatin' meatballs. No, they actually go putt putt golfing and they're surprisingly sweet and cute. BRING ME BACK THE DRAMA, SHOW.
Snickles is in the tub, there we go! [deep sigh] She and Butterface friend start making out because, as Snickles tells us, “Guys really like that.”
Uh, huh, I think you do too, ya 3 beer queer. Several men appear in the tub like there's a portal under water that only opens when there are thongs present. They all start swapping partners and I imagine MTV will need to hire 3 Mile Island's clean up crew to take care of this when they're all done. Even syphilis is making faces at this, I'm telling you.
Mike and Pauly set up the grill the next day. The gas-propane tank fueled grill. They do this by putting in charcoal, turning on the gas, then lighting the charcoal. Not surprisingly, the freaking thing is all aflame in seconds. As someone from the BBQ region of this country, ARE YOU KIDDING ME. Who doesn't know that there are two types of grills?
Pauly D thinks fast, gives the grill a shot from the fire extinguisher, and then the Situation gets the situation under control by declaring that the grill is now ready for grilling. [deeeeeeep sigh] Please don't reproduce, you guys. Please.
I think it's been a few hours since there has been some keg tapping, so it's time to get gussied up again and hit the clubs! Weldulerra is ready to tear it up and make every one miserable, because she's a cunt like that. Shots of hair dryers, lip gloss, arranging tits in shirts so it's a fine line between stripper and stripped, and we're ready to hit Karma. That's the actual club's name.
Ronnie becomes completely transcendental on the dance floor. He's twitching and flailing and tells us that “I don't know where I learned to dance like that, I just tear it up.” Um, maybe you learned in a neurological therapy room? I don't know what's happening here, he's trying to pop lock and it's just this random series of twitches. He calls it his “creepy patented moves.” You can have that patent, sir. Unchallenged.
Sammi offers some sage advice as she looks on to her boyfriend's dance floor moves. “That's how you know when you like someone because you feel something.”
I love when people like this try and present themselves as really having “something profound” to say.
“It's like, ya shit in one hand and wish in the udda, and dat's when you realize that the shoes been on the udda foots this whole time. Ya feel me?”
Through a series of misunderstandings, Ronnie thinks Sammi is picking someone up at the bar (even though she kind of is) and Sammi thinks Ronnie is dancing with a girl (he kind of is) and WILL THESE TWO MAKE IT?? If they can't, what hope do we have, folks??
Ronnie flounces (that's three!) and the final shot is The Situation licking some girl's lips on the dance floor, his tan-ticles all over her breasts. I say breasts because I'm respectful and I love my mutha very much.
I don't mean no disrespect, I mean, no offense, but let me ax you a question so you can settle a bet for me: what this show needs is some shirts with dragons raping a unicorn while riding a Harley, how dope is that, huh? Third, and third mostly, I think dese girls should start cutting their coke with Plan B because SHIT IS GETTING REAL.
A-right, I'll hit you back with more Jersey Shore next Friday. Be sure to comment so's we can talk about dis here. Don't forget your Vaseline and keep them lips kissable. PEACE.
Comments on the show here! Also, how many of you think those guys wear either Curve or Axe Body Spray? (Curve would be saved for holidays.) I'm just saying, thinks are gettin really intimate, sexual like. Nevah fahget that Staten Island is a garbage dump. No offense ya unner-stand. (LOL)
HAPPY FRIDAY, WHEEE!