There was once a dark moment in my life when I thought to myself, "will there ever be a reality show that I will enjoy watching as much as any of 'The Real Housewives'?" But that fear haunts me no more. Because this week, I uncovered the tackiest, most awesomely ridiculous, are these people serious?, reality show of all time (ok not all time, let's say post-"Paradise Hotel" but you get the gist). Finally, MTV has an answer to those fantastically fabulous Bravo housewives and all those overgrown families on TLC. An answer that comes to us in the form of the "Guido," an answer that can only be considered a gift from God, an answer that MTV has dubbed (drumroll please)... THE JERSEY SHORE.
My mother grew up going to the Jersey Shore every summer, so there was a brief time in my life when my parents pretended that this tradition would continue with me, but for the last 15 years my family has adopted a new tradition.. not going to the Jersey Shore. As a result, I remember very little about the Shore itself. What I do remember vividly however is the strict belief within my family that Point Pleasant was wholesome, clean, and family oriented, and Seaside Heights was dingy, scummy, seedy, and a place to be avoided at all costs. I feel that I needn't say more about which location MTV has selected for it's newest goldmine.
Although the entire show is filled with gems (of the emerald, ruby, and sapphire variety) from beginning to end, I think it's important to bring up what I consider to be the show's shining moment. Similar to the way in which the cast members from "The Real World" converge on a house by staking their claim on beds and unpacking their belongings, our friends from "The Jersey Shore" set sail by picking rooms and deciding who to share these rooms with. Aside from the orange skin, "Sopranos" accents, and bad attitudes, the first 15 minutes of the show could have actually been mistaken for "The Real World: Mob Edition." That is until something happened that set "The Jersey Shore" wildly apart from any small potatoes Bunim-Murray 7 strangers-type set up. And this something was when Angelina, the self proclaimed "Kim Kardashian" of the Shore, arrived to check out the new digs and unpack her belongings. It wasn't what she brought to the house that caused me to rewind my DVR three times, it was what she brought her stuff in. And that "what" you maybe wondering wasn't a suitcase, it wasn't a duffle bag, and it wasn't even a plastic cooler. Angelina, aka Kim Kardashian, brought her stuff to the house in a big, plastic, wishes it were made by Hefty, sack... as in, who needs a zipper when you have a twist-tie, as in... a giant, black, trashbag.
And it was with that, in all its trashbag wiedling glory, that I realized I had found a new love. Guidos and Guidettes, let the good times roll. I will be cheering you on from my recliner each week.
Party on Italy, Party on.
