Jersey Shore Hook-Up: Week 5

When we last left Jersey Shore, Snookers had just taken a shot to the jaw. It was beautiful, until MTV cut it. Weak. It was nowhere as tough as the LaGarrett Blount Falcon Punch . Really, those are the two moments that will always stick in my memory when I think of 2009, Snookie and the Blount. Kind of shows what a bleh year 2009 was, that two white bitches getting socked are my defining memories.

Anyway, I know that I am late with this, but I was still so drunk/hungover when this episode first aired that I was incapable of drinking (and I also had to report to work on New Years), and I didn't want to rob you of my drunken opinions of the only greatest reality TV show there is (I wanted to say only, but I have started watching two others. Before you judge, realize one focuses on CSU and the other features some clown from CSU. Maybe more on the latter, later). So without further adieu, here are my snap reactions to episode 5:

-Honestly, how in the world did the Situation not beat some ass. Just one or two swings, even half-hearted and that guy is dining on pussy the rest of his life. He would be a hero for standing up for girls everywhere. Instead he froze like someone shot by Schwartzenager in that awful Batman movie (insert more current reference here). I also like how Ronnie acts like Mike is a bitch, but he didn't do shit either. None of them did. That is weak.

-Mike "El Situation" creeping still after Snooks got blasted was maybe the most hilarious moment of 2009. Just absolutely no class. That is like stealing a man's wallet after he gets jumped, lays bleeding to death, and not calling 911. And yet he still comes off better than some of the other cast-members at the close of this episode. This cast is more shallow than a kiddie pool.

-The cops make Snookie walk home. Jersey Shore Po-Po need to step up. You even make the Bonedale Police look lazy.

-Everyone decides they actually like Snookie after she gets KTFO. As if that is some sort of badge of honor.

-Even Ron-Ron's parents are shallow and all about themselves. Or, as Vinnie calls them, good people. (Wa-Wa-What?)

-Ron, to his mother: "Drink your Mimosa, smoke another cigarette and take it easy." Ron, your mother just wants to get her cancer tan on, don't make her get her cancer smoke on.

-Vinnie is like a fucking lost puppy so far in this show, just tagging along. For fuck's sake, do something. If anyone is playing my game and drafted Vin, you now know how Detroit Lions fans have felt about every draft since 1989 (Barry Sanders, fyi).

-J-Woww's advice to Snook. "Let's drink heavily." Based on that line alone, I want to marry her. She is a woman after my own heart. Every situation can be solved with shots and rapid chugging of beer.

-Snookers, on killing Lobsters: "I don't like to eat anything that is alive when you kill it." Good thing it is a well-known fact that cows are born dead, or else hamburgers would be off my personal menu as well.

-DJ Pauly D, on the strength of his hair gel. : "I'm not sure my hair is bulletproof, but I'm not about to test it." I am willing to bet there is a significant portion of Americans that are willing to test this for you. "I'll play the part of the barber and put a part up in your hair. Sit inside of my barber's chair, I'll let the four-fifths clippers clip a ni--a" Gratuitous rap lyric supplied by Ray Cash- Killa With the Flow (prod. by the Kickdrums

-Pauly D on some girls: "They aren't whores. We might have to see them once or twice." Vinnie piles on. "Some girls will come in and jump into the hot tub. Some girls you have to treat like human beings." I hate bitches that I have to treat as human beings. I want to fuck alien bitches. Mainly illegal alien bitches. You have to pay less that way. And you can beat them up without paying extra.


-FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT. Chick fight and Snookie didn't even get a fresh one in the kisser. J-Woww done Guido Windmilled some bitch. Then, she had to adjust her boobs, because they were pointing completely different directions. Like googly-eyed Jason Ibanez from my high school soccer team (or Stuart Scott, for you non-Carboners)

ASIDE: I see a whole shit load of boob jobs out here in Cali, and all I can say is, girls, go the whole ten yards. Don't half-ass a boob job like J-Woww. I appreciate all boobs, real or fake, but when they look like they are trying to separate like Jon and Kate (whoo, totally out of date reference) it kinda grinds my gears. Make sure you go under the muscles, the over-the-top treatment just doesn't work. Boobs should work together, they should not be trying to avoid each other like the polar sides of magnets.

-Ronald dispenses some great advice, on J-Woww's boyfriend Tom, who is a biggity-bitch: "I would send her a picture of my dick and some bubble gum." If I ever were able to have an ex-girlfriend, I would send her this. I should send this to a bunch like my one hook-up. Look out, (radio edit). This would actually be a nice present since Trophy Wife's mother said I had a nice looking penis once upon a time. Again, this would mean I would have to have a girlfriend, and that will probably never happen, until I am more whipped than Ron-Ron.

-Vinnie finally breaks out. Stealing the bosses bitch. What a way to finish. It only took him five episodes to finally shine. Is he a Chauncey Billups, a late-bloomer who became captain clutch, or is he a Kenny Anderson who teased us with potential and never amounted to shit? The jury is out.

Next Week: Is only two days away. The best part about procrastinating is that you shorten the waiting time. Right?

P.S. The Real World features some kid from CSU. I will update on him as well, but the AZN summarized him best after one episode, and when I can steal material, I do (Ignore her bad grammar):

"thanks to RW23 and Andrew, Colorado is represented as a nerdy, hilarious lying, sexually active but not really at all, racist, retarded, stuffed animal lovin, kind of creepy, kind of awesome state... HEY RAMMIE, way to rep your C-STATERS."

Why the fuck wasn't I on the Real World? Bullshit!

Pregaming Post-Analysis: UCLA

I was able to make a quick trip up to the City of Angels last week to watch CSU choke against UCLA. Which was a bummer. But I salvaged the trip by getting drunk and spreading my reputation as the Greatest Drunken Athlete of All-Time. Here are some quick highlights of trip and some ideas if you plan on ever pregaming there.

Before this trip all I knew about UCLA was from sports and Facebook stalking the one girl from the Dale who went there. Now, having spent less than 24 hours there while the school is out on Christmas break, I am pretty much an expert.

-There are a whole lot of Asians. Which was fitting, because the only CSU person still in LA was the Azn, and I was meeting up with her.

-Here is a revelation no one has ever had: LA traffic sucks. The 405 blows. I sat on it for quite a while. I would suggest avoiding it, if possible. Might be quicker to circumvent the world in the other direction.

-When it gets dark in LA, I get lost really easily. One time Kilometers and Mr. No-Longer-Invited drove around in circles trying to find Occidental. I did this again while trying to get back to UCLA while on a beer run.

-Obviously I am a God amongst mortals when it comes to drinking games, but even I was surprised at how impressive I was at Beruit after not playing it since very early September. In my first game I made five straight cups in rebuttal, and then all three in overtime. Probably my greatest individual beer pong comeback. Somewhere John Elway-God looked on from above and smiled. The fact that my performance came against some frat boys made me even happier.

-UCLA sucks this year at basketball, yet they still wanted to charge $40 a ticket. Go fuck your own nostrils. We ended up bribing a security guard to let four people in for $40 total. There were probably 30 CSU fans there, and 8,000 UCLA ones.

-I was also thoroughly unimpressed with Pauley Pavillion. Semi-Mobyish with a lot less goofy charm. A little more claustrophobic, except on one end where they have no stands behind the basket for like 30 feet. It was strange, and almost high schoolish. Every other facility at UCLA was fucking amazing. I wandered around for a while and the tennis courts almost made me want to wear some fagtastic Capri pants and mimic that little Spanish fruit Rafa Nadal.  ALMOST.

-CSU was in control of the game, but UCLA remembered who they were and asserted dominance while CSU panicked. It was too bad, as I could have one day told my grandkids about the time I watched CSU's basketball teams beat the great UCLA Bruins. I'll probably just lie and say I was starting center for the Rams.

-You can drink alcohol at UCLA football games, but I don't think so at basketball games. But UCLA also plays games at the Rose Bowl, not on campus.

-We pregamed at the Sigma Nu frat house. There were five people there total. It houses about 40 normally. Would be a fun house to party and pregame at for a big basketball game, as it has some big rooms and even a semi-basketball court in it's courtyard. I guess Andrew Bynum crashed a party there a couple years ago.

-I looked at a few composites of the classes, ranging from 1982ish-now, and while some years were missing, and I didn't look that closely, I noticed that until about 1995 the pictures were almost all white (some white people with hispanish names). To counteract, of the three people left while I visited, there was one whitey, one Polynesian and one Arabic person. To reinforce stereotypes, the whitey went to bed and the other two played videogames.




What did I learn: UCLA probably isn't the biggest party school, I'm still cool, I need an Iphone for directions and if possibliy racist frats can change, so can I. Or something.