Article By: Matt McQuaid
My name is Matt (“Hi, Matt.”). I have an addiction, and I relapsed last Thursday, at 10 p.m. (EST). I had a rough day, I was really stressed, and instead of calling my sponsor, I sat on the couch, turned on the TV, and watched the premiere of MTV’s newest reality series, “The Jersey Shore.”
Addiction to crap MTV shows is not unlike an addiction to drugs, alcohol, gambling, or hardcore porn. They all take a toll on the mental health of the individual. They all can be used to escape from reality, they all tear families apart, and they all are responsible for numerous incidents of domestic violence and vehicular manslaughter (okay, maybe not the last two).
MTV’s newest series is not that new in that it follows the lives of superficial douche bags doing stuff that is woefully unimportant. It is groundbreaking, however, in the sense that it takes place outside of Southern California. The show follows the exploits of eight individuals, four boys and four girls, as they vacation and party at a summer house on the shore and “work” at a store selling t-shirts with profound slogans such as “I <3 hot moms.” Predictably, chaos ensues. If you needed any more proof that New Jersey is the armpit of the East Coast, look no further than MTV’s newest crap-tacular reality shindig. You have to hand it to the people who did casting for this show; in that they really scraped the bottom of the pejorative Italian stereotype barrel as hard as they possibly could. One of the intellectuals they cast for this crap-fest, who really distinguishes himself from the outset of the series, is known as Mike, or as he’s better known “The Situation.” “The Situation” is called “The Situation” because, and I’m not making this up, his abs are so ripped up that “it creates a situation.” “The Situation” is an outrageously humble person brimming with integrity, declaring, “It’s not a matter of if I hook up with her; it’s a matter of when I decide to.” This level of narcissism may even rival that of Bono or Alex Rodriguez. “The Situation” isn’t the only one who makes a complete ass of himself right from the outset. Another future MENSA member is Nicole, who answers to “Snooki” when called, but also responds to “Snickers” “Snookum” “Snookle Bumpkins” “Snook Money Xl” and “Sniz the Shockker.” The Snookinator really distinguishes herself at the first night at the house by getting outrageously drunk, falling down some stairs and throwing at herself at anything with a dong. This doesn’t play well for some of her housemates, including Angelina, who refers to herself as “The Kim Kardashian of Staten Island” and states, “I’m a bartender, I do, you know, like, great things.” Wow, a bartender. Move over Obama, I think we found the newest Nobel Peace Prize winner. The other specimens MTV decided to cast in their cutting-edge artistic vision are basically the same as the other three idiots. J-Wow is steadfast about not cheating on her boyfriend, so it’s a good thing she only “technically cheats” when she finds out about Paulie’s c*ck piercing. Vinny somehow gets pink-eye, Sammi Sweetheart is too dumb to sell a goddamn t-shirt, and Ronnie refuses to put one on. I could go on, but I think I’ll vomit if I do. According to MTV’s website, “In the end, [Jersey Shore] viewers see that there is more to these tan and buff individuals than hair gel.” There isn’t.
