I’m pretty much all caught up with Jersey Shore.

I still can’t wrap my head around why I like Jersey Shore. I’m not in love with it, but I can’t deny that the show is entertaining. And, listen, I understand that reality TV isn’t the mind-stimulating educational television that a collegiate scholar should partake in.

Whatever. I just like when Pauly uses goofy voices to personify Snooki’s hair bump.

There’s definitely some sort of social commentary just waiting to be dissected. These people are famous for partying, and yet I can’t exactly hate them for making millions just for using a duck phone and going clubbing. As far as worthless partiers go, they’re kind of decent people? I mean, in comparison.

That, and they’re really good at what they do.

Maybe, as a boring college student who studies and checks sites like [this] all the time, I can live vicariously through all of their CRAAZY LIVES. Also I think it’s hilarious when they fight with each other. I wish I could find the context to yell at someone with a Jersey accent and make fun of their grandmother’s marinara sauce.

But, alas, my life is no more than asthma classifications and stuff about IV piggybacks.

I guess I can at least find solace in the fact that I have no interest in Skins, which has fictional conquests of debauchery that are even more disturbing than the fabricated “real lives” of the Jersey Shore cast. Meh.

Kids these days.

Skins, aka, I wish I could relay enough sarcasm to you so I could pretend I would be interested in watching this awful show.

(For those of you who want to jump to defend the British version of Skins over the American version, go ahead. I won’t know what you’re talking about anyway.)