As we all know, I am sadly addicted to shows like Jersey Shore and other mass-media attempts to give all the world an aneurysm. I have admitted I have a problem, okay? But I’m not the only one, as my recent trip to the hair salon proves:
My hairstylist and I had gotten bored of eavesdropping on the people in the next booth (they were talking about heroin and trout-fishing, which would have been a good conversation if they’d been talking about them concurrently, but it was only consecutively). So she asks me if I’m watching American Idol, and I respond that I really only enjoy the “Man, you SUCK,” show they do really early on, then I lose interest. But, I continue, I do watch Jersey Shore. And she admits she doesn’t always watch Jersey Shore, but she WILL NOT MISS Jerseylicious. And off we went.
We talked for pretty much the entire hour and a half it takes to make me beautiful (except for the parts when I was baking my brain cells under the dryer — does it REALLY have to be THAT hot???) about just about everything that had happened last season… like who was fighting with who (Tracey versus everybody), who was being a bitch (Tracey) and what the HELL is wrong with Gigi that she totally screwed herself out of an engagement ring by being stupid.
And I realized on the way home, anyone eavesdropping on US would have thought we were talking about people we actually KNOW… which may make us sad, pathetic creatures who need to get out more. But at least we weren’t talking about heroin. Or trout-fishing. Or BOTH, for God’s sake.