Some of you have asked why I have yet to blog about the show sensation that is making people all across our great country “beat the beat.” The show that has people asking, “what the hell is GTL?” The television spectacle that, by its very nature, challenges the historical and cultural authority of our ancestors. To be honest, the reason why I have not yet posted about Jersey Shore is because its depth and intelligence is infinitely beyond my authority as a measly little blogger. Are you confused? I shouldn’t imagine you could be! Every tidbit of guido/guidette knowledge radiating out of the little house on the boardwalk defies our schooling and inherent street smarts. Before I could comment on such a groundbreaking piece of work… I had to do some research.
Feeling monumentally betrayed by earlier poofs and their constituents, I jumped a few centuries in research, determined that THE poof would present itself in the later 20th century. I landed among the pages of 1960’s fashion magazines and found in the pages a hairstyle so poof-esque I was positive I had proven this “Snookers” wrong. As shown below, the hairstyle embodies all aspects of “the poof;” it has definitive height, is assembled with just some gathering of the hair, and is, in fact, NOT a wig. But is this style a “poof?” Sadly, no. It is defined in fashion articles of old as a “bouffant.”
I can’t explain to you all how discouraged I felt at that moment. There was even a time that I thought I, myself, may have even invented the poof before Snookie. I went digging through old pictures only to find the below… a deflated non-poof. Clearly I had not mastered the art of the poof prior to MTV phenomenon, and upon realizing this, I surrendered to the genius that is Jersey Shore.
That’s right. I discontinued all research aiming to discredit the wise words of guidos and guidettes everywhere. Because of this, I have come to grips with the fact that Italy is the center of the universe; not the sun. I now know that laws of attraction imply a man is only desirable if he be “tan, juiced, and a meat-head guido.” I am now aware that if one is to jump in a hot tub wearing a thong, it should be a thong bathing suit. Men are welcome to hit women in public and a pickle was never once a cucumber.
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