Airstrike

Remember when I said I'd be continuing that movie list? Yeah, fuck that noise. A) No one cared (including myself) and B) I realized I hate every movie anyway. Literally it's so rare that I see a movie I like. Don't think I'm being a pretentious (bleh) film snob, because really I just hate most things. People, movies, smells, areas; literally out of everything I like, and I'm being generous, maybe 35%. There are so few things in this world I like, it's astounding that I haven't gone all 'Falling Down'. However, recently I have discovered something I actually do like, beyond Call of Duty and masturbation of course. In fact, if you had told me I would have enjoyed this thing before I had experienced it, I would quite possibly of spat, maybe even spat upon you. But alas, here I am enjoying the toxic wonders of MTV's The Jersey Shore.

Yep. I said it. I enjoy this astounding piece of American television like a guido enjoys a protein shakes and fist pumping. The constant seesaw between hilarity and toilet filling nausea is like nothing I've ever experienced before. On one hand, the show is a terrifying freak show; displaying to the world the very reason why America is destined for the shitter faster then an evening of El Pollo Loco. While these fine 'guidos' and 'guidettes' may seem like rare beasts, they are growing in number and I can tell you that my generation is leading the league in douchiness. Invest in Jager and Red Bull now because that shit is going to go through the roof (if it hasn't already)

Being able to observe these alien, Affliction clad, orange skinned beasts from the safety of my couch is perhaps the point of redemption that makes the show enjoyable. No longer to I have to venture out to 'The Club' and get my ears blown out by shit house music while I scream a 'conversation' to a girl who looks like she applied her make-up with an Oozinator (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s830U1ckE6A&feature=related). Its almost like MTV read my mind and took all the garbage out of the Real World and just handed me a 45 minute peep show with an alcohol content higher than The Hoff's blood and more tribal tattoos than there are actual tribes. The best part? I don't think these people realize what train wrecks they are. A choice line of dialogue from one of the future members of MENSA was: "This work (t-shirt shop cashier) is below me. I'm a bartender."

Indeed.

So let's all raise our glasses and stock our bomb shelters, because honestly 2012 is looking pretty good right now.