Written by RACHEL GRAMGULIA / STAFF WRITER
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Yes we go to a school that’s down the shore, but no we aren’t all guidos and guidettes with 10 pounds of hair gel and artificial tans to last us a life time. We also don’t go through five hairspray cans a week.
There are people on campus with tans, of course, but if you took one look at me, you’d probably be shocked, considering that the only pigmentation I have are my freckles. Going to a school down the shore, you’d think that there would be tons of tanned bodies strutting their fist pumping muscles on campus, but I haven’t even seen one guido! Am I missing something? Should I get my guido-finder out? Because quite frankly, a school by the beach should be flooded with guidos, right?
Unless there is going to be a “Jersey Shore” themed day once a week, probably on a Thursday (when the show actually airs), then no, I do not want our campus to be flooded with “gorilla juice heads.”
Wait, everyone pause for just a second. Think about the three words from above, “gorilla juice heads.” What in God’s name does that even mean? “Jersey Shore” makes it out to mean big, strong and muscular guys. But in my mind, that means a guy with a face that looks like a gorilla, filled with not a brain, but with juice. I would definitely not be attracted to a guy with juice in his head. Unless he has an extreme love for apple juice like I do, I don’t think me and a “gorilla juice head” would work out, ever.
Fist pumping: I’ve taught numerous people from out of state how to properly fist pump. First you have to start pumping on the floor, then as the beat builds up, you raise your fist from the ground, pumping faster. And then, badda-bing badda-boom, there you have it, you are beating that beat up. Look at you, you little Pauly D enthusiast.
I have seen people who actually look awkward as they are fist pumping, they just stand there moving their arm up and down, and there is no rhythm to be found. That’s when it’s time to step in. It is 100 percent okay to go up to someone at a party or a club and teach them how to properly fist pump. It’ll look really good on your part because you’ll know what you’re doing, and you’re saving a naive fist pumping soul as well. Hey, maybe they can teach you how to dougie. It’s a win-win.
I’m not here to bash the show “Jersey Shore” because I’m a huge fan of it. I think it’s absolutely hilarious. I think it’s really funny when I’m on vacation and someone finds out I’m from Jersey and goes “Oh I want to learn how to fist pump like Pauly D!” But it isn’t just the Jersey mannerisms that have Jersey famous, it’s the accents too.
Yes I’m from Jersey, but no I don’t have a thick and heavy “Nu Joisy” accent. I hail from Bergen County and yes, some of us do have thick New Jersey accents. Others, I’ve learned, do not. I’ve got this whole New Jersey accent thing down into three sections:
North Jersey: Congrats you talk like a New Yorker. You say “tawlk,” “wawlk,” “cawfee,” and “taylor ham.” You love bagels.
Central Jersey: Congrats, you don’t even have an accent. You love the beach and sun tan lotion. Additionally, you love waves; one must not forget the waves.
South Jersey: Congrats, you talk with a southern accent. You almost sound like you’re from Pennsylvania, or you’re Paula Deen. You say “pork roll.” It drives North Jersey people insane.
Some of you may agree, others may disagree. Some of you might pull an Alan from The Hangover and say, “your language is offensive!” But I’m going to pull a Ron Burgandy and say “agree to disagree.”
Clearly New Jersey has built up a reputation over the past few years. Thanks to the ever so funny and entertaining cast of the “Jersey Shore,” once people find out we’re from Jersey, it’s suddenly a party. But you know what? I kind of like being from the state that is full of crazy parties and fist pumping. It supplies much needed entertainment for me and for out-of-staters.
Hey, one out of the 50 states of America needs to be a “blast in a glass,” why not have it be Jersey.