I am not going to lie. From the moment the first season ended I have been living exclusively for that halcyon moment when the second season of Jersey Shore would begin and fill my otherwise empty existence with meaning and color. I am unhealthily obsessed. I wrote the longest DVD review of my 13 year A.V Club career about the uncensored first season of the Shore and just posted a thousand word blog post about New Jersey's greatest shame/triumph in the Wall Street Journal blog.


Yes, we as a culture have grown unhealthily obsessed with a motley aggregation of orange-skinned, steroid-addled, wonderbra-enhanced fake New Jerseyans and their mindless yet wildly entertaining debauchery. Like Ronnie, we have fallen in love with Jersey Shore despite our fierce commitment to remain unattached and uninvolved. And bang a different skank each night (fist pump! high five! beat up the beat/a random dude on the boardwalk)

The cast of Jersey Shore has conquered pop culture like no group of dumbass reality show hedonists before. Everyone and their mother are prostrating themselves before these cartoon caricatures of Italian-American macho men and women of easy virtue. On tonight’s season premiere alone the cast limply “endorsed”, no doubt for a sizable fee, Takers and The Other Guys and the latest Enrique Iglesias music video.

But would removing the cast from its faux native habitat (despite the fact that, you know, almost none of them are actually native New Jersey residents) remove the show’s caveman, trainwreck charm? Yes and no.


I had built up the second season premiere of Jersey Shore to such prohibitively high levels that it almost couldn’t help but disappoint. Sure enough, tonight’s much-anticipated episode was weighed down with exposition, as the entire cast made an epic road trip from the upper East Coast to Miami, AKA Sodom on South Beach, and reacquainted themselves with one another. In this case at least, getting there was considerably less than half the fun, word to Kermit the Frog.

Ah, but there was a snake in this reality show Eden in the form of Angelina, the horrible, horrible human being who left the show because she could not handle the intense pressure of working at a tee-shirt shop for several hours a week and fled the house in horror.

In a perfect world, Angelina would be doomed to watch Jersey Shore on a threadbare couch in a sad little efficiency while choking down strawberry Boone’s Farm and Domino's pizza while weeping uncontrollably about the fame and fortune that passed her by. In this ragingly imperfect world, however, she was brought back by the producers to play the role of the arch-villian, the Cruella De Ville of fist-pumping enthusiasts.


She played the heavy to the hilt tonight, starting an expletive-filled argument with her female cast-members and instantly getting on the nerves of everyone in the house.

Meanwhile, Ronnie officially went wild following his break-up with Sammi (Christ, if those crazy kids can’t make it then what chance do any of us have?) by getting blackout drunk and making out with seemingly half the Herpes carriers in Florida. Oh, and he also called Sammi the C word, which I can only imagine is cromulent.

Tonight’s episode got off to a slow start but by the time Ronnie was going fucking nuts the show had whipped itself into a fine, frothing frenzy. Welcome back, GTL motherfuckers. I expect/demand one very wild sex and booze addled ride.


Stray Observations—

—Do fairy tales really end with steroid-addled drunks making out with dozens of skanks simultaneously?

—A nightclub in Miami is the perfect place to meet classy people. Meryl Streep be doing shots up in that beeyatch!


—Oh Angelina, you have won us all back with your wit, charm and sophistication. You are truly a distaff Noel Coward

—I am so glad The Situation clarified that MIA is Miami. I would be so lost otherwise. I otherwise would have thought the show would take place inside the rapper/provocateur M.I.A

—I too would be so lost without my white short-shorts

—If Angelina says a movie she's contractually obligated to praise is good then I'm fucking sold.


—Jesus fucking Christ on a crucicracker, is there any cultural institution not willing to lower itself to JERSEY SHORE's level?

—No, you do not deserve another shot, Angelina. You are history's greatest monster.

—I want aliens and future generations to judge our civilization solely by JERSEY SHORE.


—So Sammi broke up with Ronnie. At least he's not prone to explosive fits of rage or anything.

—You can't creep in this weather, indeed. I hope to find my amazing gorilla juicehead as well.

—So, does Jersey Shore represent the apex or nadir of Western civilization?