Once upon a time, in a land called Fall 2009, there was no such thing as The Jersey Shore. Well, there was, of course, but back then it was just a nice summer spot, a place where Jersey residents and Philadelphians made pilgrimages so they could walk the boardwalk and enjoy the beach during hot July days.
No one had ever heard of a Snooki or a JWoww, and a grenade was something that blew a lot of things up in war.
We went about our days ignorant to the crucial GTL structure that would soon guide our life choices, unaware of the fact that the Staten Island Ferry was more than just a big boat that brought commuters back and forth from Manhattan, or that it was socially acceptable to tack a z onto the word “you” when speaking in second person plural.
But of course, all of that changed in December, when Jersey Shore premiered on MTV, and we were enlightened by the onslaught of fist-pumps, teased pouffes, and guido/guidette jargon that filled our homes on Thursday nights.
Pauly D’s hair taught us that gravity can be defied, as long as you have the right hair gel. The Situation made it endearing to be that jerk who refers to himself in third person all the time. Ronnie let skinny kids all over the world know that steroids really are your friends.
The world was at once a blissful, beautiful place in which peace and heavy New York accents reigned supreme. And it was wonderful.
When Jersey Shore returned in July, Americans were as anxious as pre-teens returning to summer camp, wondering if their old buddies had changed.
What if the tax the Obama administration placed on tanning salons turned our friends’ skin into a color that no longer resembled burnt sienna?
What if the Situation started calling himself Mike? What if Snooki grew?
It didn’t help matters much that the show’s February filming schedule forced our favorite gang to find shelter in Miami instead of along the shores of Seaside Heights. We were nervous; we couldn’t sleep at night while knowing we were not going to spend an hour a week at Karma’s with the crew.
Were things about to take a turn for the worst?
But then, JWoww found a tranny store in Miami Beach, and bought a dress that looked like something a T-Rex had snacked on. And everything was right with the world once more.
Season two of Jersey Shore might not be quite as life-changing as its predecessor, since the world knew what was in store for it this time around, but it certainly hasn’t been any less brilliant.
There are moments during season two in which we do see that the Friends cast-sized paychecks MTV gives our Jersey Shoresians to finance their gym memberships and STD tests have changed the dynamic a bit.
Last season, for example, the Situation and Pauly D were on an eternal, fruitless quest for play. This season, all they have to do is lift their shirts up at Tantra (the other two-syllable club in the country that allows the Shoresians inside its walls) and a harem flocks.
But to our relief, it seems like fame hasn’t affected our new besties too much.
Vinny has a new tattoo and wears more ice than Ice-T, but he still dispenses words of wisdom like the wise guru he is.
JWoww’s hair has finally come to a decision as to what color it would like to be, but her chest still calls Newton’s laws of physics into question.
And our favorite couple, Ronnie and Sammi, are back and boring as ever, though there was a whole bunch of drama going down when Ronnie hooked up with a host of grenades, and Sammi was “done done done.” (But it’s okay, guys, they’re like, so in love and stuff).
The best part of Jersey Shore’s sophomore season is what people feared would be the worst: the return of Angelina, the self-proclaimed Kim Kardashian of Staten Island.
Angelina, for those who need a refresher, was the one who went home after like two weeks at Seaside so she could shack up with her married boyfriend.
The rest of the housemates rejoiced when she left, because her brief stint in season one was characterized by her criticism of some scantily clad girls the Situation and Pauly D coerced into the hot tub.
The poor thing totally missed out on the gravy train, but the producers were nice enough to let her wreak havoc all over Miami.
It’s a good thing they did, too, because Angelina is all sorts of crazy. For those keeping count at home, she’s slapped Pauly D, screamed at the Situation, hooked up with Vinny, and single-handedly destroyed JWoww and Snooki’s relationships with everyone else in the house. What’s not to love?
And of course, along with a new season comes new terminology and life lessons.
For instance, it is now totally appropriate to “smush” or “smash” with a girl in your twin bed as long as your roommate also “smushes” or “smashes” with a girl in his twin bed.
After a night out on the town, it’s essential to cook a full meal to snack on before you go to bed. This is especially true when you’ve brought a special someone back with you from the club. Turkey sandwiches are an aphrodisiac.
Also, booty shorts and tank tops are great to wear to nice restaurants.
Most importantly, there’s nothing like a nice herpe to ruin a party (note that “herpe” is actually a singular term).
There are four episodes left in season two, with a Snooki/Angelina smackdown on the horizon. Yes, they are fighting over Vinny, and someone’s hair extensions will probably be pulled out. And yes, we will definitely be watching.
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