The new season of “Jersey Shore” blew in unexpectedly; I thought our DVR was mistakenly recording old episodes from previous seasons. Then we saw Pauly D. on a talk show, and saw clips from the new season, and thought: oh my god, we’re missing it!
As with the (rancid) cream of the reality shows – “Bridezillas,” “A List: New York,” “A List: Dallas” – you can’t look away. It’s like that scene in “A Christmas Story” when Ralphie’s little brother plunges his face onto his plate and begins to eat like a pig at his mother’s urging, and both of them are screaming with laughter. It’s disgusting, but you have to watch it.
We are (as of this writing) only two episodes into the new season. I know from Internet scuttlebutt that this season did not go well; apparently there was serious dissention among the Seaside Heights Eight, and word went out that a few guidos / guidettes went home for good.
They are, I think, mostly sick of each other. The show took them directly from Florence (where, according to Vinnie, they did “everything you can possibly do,” ha ha, yes they certainly took advantage of the opportunity to broaden their minds) to Seaside Heights, giving them no time to spend with their families and friends in between. This (I’m sure) was meant to ramp up the tension level on the show, and it worked like a charm. Mike and Nicole (aka Sitch and Snooki) are at one another’s throats. Vinnie, who used to seem a tiny bit smarter and calmer than the others, is now completely worn out, and contemplating leaving the house. Jenny (aka JWOWW) is an exhausted den mother, trying to sort out arguments and calm everyone down while serving snacks. (Who knew she’d be the mature one?) The others – Ron, Sammi, Deena, Paulie – are watching quietly from the sidelines, waiting for the whole thing to implode, so they can go off and do their spinoff MTV shows and QVC jewelry hours and Xenadrine ads.
But still we cannot look away. We look, and we see:
- Snooki drinking the juice out of the pickle jar;
- Snooki wearing panties with JIONNI (her boyfriend’s name) written on the butt;
- Situation and his friend Unit (!) spraying one another with – what? – bronzer? cologne? – in a bizarre dance-like ritual;
- Paulie getting too much exposure at the tanning salon, and ending up looking like a burnt weenie (he puts Popsicles on his face to ease the pain);
- Paulie hooking up with a girl who steals his gold-and-diamond chain, then brings it back to the house, no harm done, tee hee. (I wonder if the show’s producers prompted her to do it? They had the felony on tape, after all.)
Who knows what lies ahead?
Thank goodness the world ends in December 2012. There can’t be more than two or three more Jersey Shore series before then!
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