The Heart Of Jersey

Sigh.
Okay, you guys. This is probably going to be short and pointless, but I'm bored out of my skull and there's nothing on TV. At least, not for another hour and a half. That is, until 9:30. When I plan on watching, um...Jersey Shore.
DON'T JUDGE ME!
Remember that time I blogged about Jersey Shore, and how they should really change the name to Holy Shit Jersey Shore, because every time I watch it, I find myself repeating that phrase over and over in response to the cast members and their crazy behavior? I changed my mind. Sure, Holy Shit Jersey Shore is appropriate with the added benefit of being hilarious, but if any words are gonna get tacked onto the original title, it's these three:

DON'T.

JUDGE.

ME.

I can say with 87% honesty that I have never experienced a higher level of ridicule and judgement IN MY LIFE since I admitted to watching/enjoying/wishing I was a cast member of Jersey Shore. Yeah. Really? I was addicted to Big Brother for almost 19 months back in high school and nobody so much as batted an eyelid, but for this they pull out the big guns? Pair that with the whole depleting ozone layer thing or the fact that my boobs have somehow shrunk by an entire cupsize over the past 6 months, and it's no wonder I've lost all faith in humanity.

One thing I've noticed about people who make fun of Jersey Shore Don't Judge Me is that - in general - none of them have ever bothered to watch a single episode. This explains a lot. I mean, if you judge solely by the commercials, the whole damn show is about a 4 ft 9 Italian girl getting drunk at the beach. And sure that's most of it, but if you don't tune into the actual episodes, you're never gonna see the heart:

Right?

This is the exact same issue I had with the hot chocolate/chai latte hybrid I invented a couple months back. Or to be more specific, convincing the staff at Gloria Jeans to start selling the hot chocolate/chai latte hybrid I invented a couple months back, and paying me the royalties. Because from the outside, I just look like a hyperactive young girl with crazy hair, and The Hot Chaicolate just sounds like something that could do your reproductive organs some serious damage. It might, but in reality it's probably also one of the best non-caffeinated/non-alcoholic beverages I've ever tasted. And I'm a hyperactive young girl with crazy hair...and HEART. See?On a completely different note, I'm sick of my blog layout and want a change. If you have any ideas or suggestions, please email them to me so I can come up with something better and throw it in your face.

That's all. :)