Of Sammitches and Vipers

You’ll have to excuse the late post. Due to scheduling conflicts beyond my control — and that are none of your damn business, so stop being nosy — I couldn’t watch episode 2 of “Jersey Shore” (alternate title: “LET’S ALL SHOUT AT THE SAME TIME!!”) live and had to check it out today. I actually watched it on my laptop en route to L.A. I’m not sure what the absolute best way to make yourself feel like a douchebag is, but being a grown man watching “Jersey Shore” on a 13″ screen while sitting in an aisle seat on a plane has to be up there on the list. Fortunately I have no shame, so it’s irrela to me. (Exhibit A for me lacking shame: I just used the word “irrela” in print. I even said it out loud as I wrote it. Test me.)

When we last left our Shore-ites, D Rex called Sammitch a see-you-next-Tuesday, leading to a 3-on-1 girlfight session and culminating in Jwoww vs. Sammitch 2: The War Down the Shore. I don’t know about any of you, but on my card I have Sammi coming out ahead in both bouts. Jwoww has seriously disappointed me on the battle front. Chick’s built like a linebacker, yet I’ve yet to see her really do the damage a physical specimen like her should be capable of, especially against a dried up condom wrapper like Sammitch. Although, seeing the two pulled apart by members of the film crew was pretty awesome. If I had a vagina, I think it would have quivered.

That’s all old news, but it brings me to what is really my only point: Sammi sucks. She sucks so much I’m already regretting giving her semi-cute nickname like “Sammitch.” It may be more clever than D Rex’s contribution of “Stupid Bitch,” but it’s certainly less descriptive. Her ability to completely and intentionally alienate herself from everyone and then complain about it as though it’s somehow not her fault is mind-boggling. By the end of the episode, not even Ronnie could deal with her nonsense. Shocker. Raise your hand if you DIDN’T see that coming. I think my dog could have predicted those two would have yet another falling out, and he lacks the visual acuity to distinguish dogs from talking sandwiches when he watches TV. At least Ronnie woke up, remembered the rules of BBH, and grew something that remotely resembles a pair of testicles. I think if Sammitch were my first born child, I would have drowned her in a well like ten years ago.

In other news, let’s show a little respect for the strong showing from Vinny in this episode. Let’s run through his performance:

– He owned the parasite girl at Karma by repeatedly ducking and running and repeatedly blowing her spot up. (For the record, I would have hit it. No question. And then I probably would have had to change my name and move to Des Moines, cause I’m pretty sure that bitch would kill a man who left her hanging.)
– He rescued the kickball with like chicken wire and chewing gum. Maybe you think this isn’t a big deal, but that’s because you have no sense of the value of a good kickball.
– Best of all, he out-Situationed the Situation with the ol’ fashioned “beat him into the room and lock the door” routine. My man’s moves are outrageously simple, but devastatingly effective. He’s like a sniper. I want to call him “Sniper” from now on. Except that has nothing to do with his actual name, soo…Viper. Done and done.

As always, I still HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS! Is Sammitch going to leave? Will Ronnie finally wise up and drop her like the turd sandwich that she is? Will Jwoww and Tom make it? Will someone eventually wind up defiling that giant banana? Dear God, I hope we find out. My vagina is all a-quiver with anticipation.



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4 responses to “Of Sammitches and Vipers

  1. Seth from NJ

    i miss baby f gizmo

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  4. Pingback: Dear Shore… « tiles in a mosaic

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