Ok, I have a confession to make. And it’s been a long time coming, but…
I am a fan of MTV’s Jersey Shore. And I SHOULDN’T be. But I am. There, I said it.
Cannot freakin’ wait to see what antics those lovable train-wrecks are going to get into tonight. (I think tonight’s episode focuses on Ron-Ron is getting an anal probe!)
Thanks to the casties of MTV’s Jersey Shore I have learned:
- New euphemisms for referencing intimate relations and female body parts.
- How to be a good wingman. Grenade Whistles for all!
- That the cast is a walking PSA for safe sex/abstinence. Seriously, kids…this show should make you want to RUN to your parents and slap on that ol’ purity ring. Yeah, that’s right Selena Gomez…I’m talking to you…take it easy and slow with the Bieb-ster.
- That Snooki and Deena’s definition and personification of “being classy” makes the porn star who recently went on an all-night cocaine bender with Charlie Sheen look like Mother Teresa.
- Kitchen Ditchin’…nuff, said.
I know I am not alone. Eight million viewers tuned in last week, giving MTV’s its highest ratings for a primetime show EVER. The Snooki-fication of the country has become an interesting “Situation.” (Did you know that Chuck Schumer saw Snooki at Reagan National, waved, said hello…AND SHE DIDN”T KNOW WHO HE WAS AND IGNORED HIM???)
So as you can imagine… I now have to use discretion when the inevitable subject of where I live is broached. And the enormous pop-culture relevancy that Jersey Shore has become has spawned trickle-down fall-out effects on the locals who actually call the Jersey Shore home. Here are various scenarios that I have encountered in the last few months since the show’s debut.