We're here! We made it! It's strange how there can be a giant gaping hole in your life--a hole that remains unfilled by satisfying relationships with friends and family, good food, the security of being able to pay your bills and having a comfortable home--and you can remain unawares of this mondo hole (TWSS) until season 2 of Jersey Shore: Miami Shore premieres! It reminds me a lot of that part in Being and Nothingness (thanks Philosophy 101) where Sartre argues about the presence of nothingness by using the example of awaiting a woman in a cafe, and since the woman is late, the cafe arranges itself around her absence. You and me are that man and the cafe is The Situation and the nothingness is the need for an automatic suicide rifle to shoot myself in the face.

Hold on, Tatyana. Aren't you on summer vacation, and rather than blogging shouldn't you be crossing things off your summer to-do list which is actually just a computer print out of the lyrics to "Margaritaville"? Fair enough, imaginary reader. But, on the other hand, it's really hard to drink this mai tai with all these Jersey Shore jokes stuck in my throat. Also, the swim-up bar (couch) at this hotel pool on an LA rooftop (Michelle's apartment) that I'm blogging from has killer WiFi.


Tatyana's back, guys

The Shoremates have "decided" to take a road trip down to Miami that a camera crew has "just decided" to accompany them on. This is the thing about reality TV. Like, for instance The Bachelorette with its two consecutive seasons of flatulent matrimony fails. WE KNOW THIS ISN'T REAL! WE ALL KNOW THIS! So why is everyone trying so hard to convince us that it is? The entertainment value of Bachelorette Ali poutily tossing her flip flops across Tahiti between heaving, red-faced sobs is not lessened by the reality that this is not reality. Do the producers honestly believe that we believe that Snookie has it in her to rent a car of her own volition? SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW, AS A PICKLE AFICIONADO, THAT FRIED PICKLES EXIST. She doesn't even know what a pickle aficionado is! Relax guys! Get some fresh air. Cause here's the thing. If the thin guise of "reality" was to be severed by the god-awful producers, we'd still watch this crap. This is America and we only live once, and that life is going to be spent rotting in front of the TV/internet uh ya no duh doi.

And so our Jersey Shore friends are unleashed on a suspecting America. At least they are dressed appropriately.



The above screen grab is from a roadside diner where Snookie and JWOWW have stopped to eat what I can only humbly guess to be an elephant-sized trough of fried dough. Snookie is propositioned by a white dude in a Bob Marley shirt, but he is clearly not of her Juicehead Gorilla caliber, proving once and for all (take note) that a white dude in a Bob Marley shirt will never get laid.

Meanwhile, The Situation and Pauly D decide to set off some fireworks in a field when their Escalade gets stuck in the mud. God bless(?) America(?).

On to the house. Cool house! For a child's trashy wood-paneled play room with all the windows blacked out to prevent any natural light from wandering it's way in. Also, okay I get the hot tub, but WHO IS THIS TINY POOL FOR?



Everyone is pissed that Angelina has been invited back! Especially the coven of cunts known as the other girls in the Jersey Shore house who immediately retreat into the nest of hair extensions and semen that they made themselves upon arrival and proceed to talk shit on Angelina while sipping diet vodka Red Bulls with a ruffie chaser out of their fucking catitude mugs. I would say get a life girls, but I'm the one blogging about Jersey Shore, so you know, truth mirror.

Angelina has decided to bed down with The Situation and Pauly D. "This is definitely not a bad idea that will result in heavy-handed drama" -MENSA

They go out to a club to celebrate their arrival in the mecca of club-going doucheyness, Miami. And JWOWW looks great.


This dress was originally all one color until the pink began to flee her giant fake boobs.

There's a fight in the cab something something something!




Then Sammi and Ronnie fight at the club and Sammi goes home with the girls to sulk!



KBAIIIII THEN!

Then Ronnie acts like a fucking creep (his words).


Ew


(pictured l-r: EWWWWWWWW)

And boy is Angelina stoooooked about all the dirt she has on Ronnie that she would lay on Sammi if they were real true friends.



My friend Chad posed a pretty astute question last night when we were watching this. "Is this what we are now?" And seriously, I think this is a really great question that everyone should be asking themselves. Is this who we, as a people are now? Watching meta reality train wrecks on the regular then running to the internet to make fun of it? Uh, yeah, I guess so! MAI TAIS ALL AROUND!

I got 2 separate texts from 2 separate people in 2 separate places on the continent about The Bachelorette last night. Am I that girl now? Am I That Bachelorette Girl? Or perhaps the more pertinent question is, have I always been That Bachelorette Girl? and, like some sort of parasite that has been living in my body waiting to unleash its latent neurotoxic infection, will this manifest in an uncomfortable rash followed by a quick and painful death and/or paralysis? Will I find the answer to that question at the bottom of this glass of white wine? Oh, don't bother pinning on that first impression rose for saddest. I'll just go ahead and sob into it, thanks.

Anyway, Roberto gets the next one-on-one date. Good because I'm looking for a reason to continue watching this show, and I have a feeling that it's hidden in Roberto's dimples. Apparently Ali is afraid of flying and possibly heights, so she's chosen a date for Roberto in which they fly in a helicopter and then walk across a tightrope suspended between two buildings to a dinner on the top floor of an LA skyscraper because she wants to squeeze Roberto's -------. Fair enough. Roberto gets the rose because Ali really fucking needs to work on her Spanish.


Dame un barfo.

The funny part is that even Ali realizes that he's out of her league. Seriously, while he's talking about traveling to Italy and France, you can almost see her grasping for some sort of cultural reference beyond the Ricky Martin CD that she owns and loves and listens to all the time.

The next day, the group date guys are ferried by limousine to an area of Los Angeles where they are more likely to experience "gang violence" (actual direct Bachelor quote) than to have any sort of romantic date with Ali. What's going on? Well, there's a reason that Ali's brought them to this back alley of LA, and it's because that even the Barenaked Ladies are a little bit embarrassed to be seen within such close proximity of The Bachelorette.



REALLY?! I mean, I barely remember the Barenaked Ladies and am only middling ironically amused at the fact that this group of washed up Canadian nerds is filming a music video starring the cast of The Bachelorette. And I am not only a nerd but a fucking 90s nerd! So, I'm going to go ahead and assume that the producers kind of off the charts blew it on this one.

Anyway, each of the guys draws a card specifying what scene they'll be enacting with Ali. Some of them get to sexily (grossily) make out in bed and some of them get slapped. The Weatherman actually starts crying because he's so stressed out about kissing Ali in the scene when they haven't kissed IRL. He gets some really sage advice from another contestant: "Think of it as a forecast, just in the middle of the forecast you have to make out with a girl." Smart advice! But I'd also like to offer him some morsels of wisdom: "GROW A PAIR!"

Meanwhile, it's the Riddle of the Sphinx over here...


HOW DID THIS FUCKING NERD GET SUCH A GREAT BODY?!?!

Afterwards they go to another rooftop restaurant that also has a hot tub. Los Angeles, apparently. Seriously guys, why are we still living in New York? Anyway, here we get the first hot tub make out sesh. Way to go, Kirk!



Kirk gets the group date rose, and it's kinda adorable. "She likes me for me!" he says. Aww. But then apparently next week he is now crazy and trying to kill himself? I guess the producers should've taken note when on his application he wrote, "Favorite band: Suicidal Tendencies." (OMG LOLOLOLOL BULLETS).

You know, I really vacillate about whether I hate this show or whether it's so dull that I really can't even manage to hate it. Like, there are a lot of things in the world to hate. For instance, the hole in the ocean floor that is spewing oil and its subsequent impact on the environment and the economy that will be felt for probably generations to come.



JK this show rules, and also you're welcome for that clip.

Rated R is feeling a little bummersauce because his cast prevented him from getting wet (literally!) with Ali and the other guys. Aw. Poor professional entertainment wrestler. So, the next day he decides to hobble the 2 hour hike up some winding canyon road to Ali's abode to talk about how his father left him. Like, it's true, girls love it when guys open up, I GUESS. But also, the cloying soliloquy about how he wants to be a great dad because he never knew his dad seems a lot COME ON NOW. Also, really, producers of The Bachelorette? I'm sure it was really challenging for a man on crutches to walk for miles along a road, but do you really have to make it look like he was stranded for days in the desert on a fucking vision quest? THERE ARE BMW SUVS CRUISING BY HIM ON THEIR WAY TO IN-AND-OUT BURGER FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

After Rated R's reenactment of an America song, Ali ventures over to the house to pick Hunter up for their one-on-one date, which has been flagrantly touted as a make it or break it situation. Given the emphasis leading up to this date on whether or not Hunter will get the rose, it's pretty apparent that he won't. Sorry, Hunter. Not even telling Ali that you'd love to be her stay-at-home dad can undo the awkward, stilted times you had with her silently watching the sunset in the hot tub. Bai Hunter.



At the rose ceremony, Ali accidentally spills it to Roberto (the dimples are like truth and/or panty serum) that Rated R did his walkabout to her place, and boy are the other guys pissed when they find out. What do these guys have against Rated R? I mean, are his intentions really all that nefarious? He claims that he'll give up wrestling if Ali wants him to... And then he cries in the hot tub about it? UGH THESE GUYS ARE TERRIBLE.

Rose ceremony time. A couple of nerds unceremoniously get the boot. Bye nerds.


The ladies of Issaquah are all, "John C., you can develop my hotel business any time."

Let's be real though. Most of this episode was about the guys doing lots and lots of shirtless (and occasionally, though less spectacularly, shirted) drinking.






Yes, he is drinking straight from the champagne bottle, LADIES!

Currently my favorites (if by favorites one means the guys that make me wanna claw my eyes out the least) are Chris L., Roberto, and Frank the Nerd. I'm gonna take a (tequila) shot in the dark here and predict that it's Chris N. that has the girlfriend, guessing by that glimpse of retreating flannel in that oh-so-long-ago series preview. Anyway, I'd like to reiterate, I don't give a fuck.

Till next week guys...

What a great week it's been for people in Gulf Coast states! Also ducks and fish and a variety of other sea creatures. JK it's been a terrible week for them. It's been such a terrible fucking almost-month for them that it's inappropriate to even make jokes about it, and so I'm at a loss as to how to communicate the grief, fear and anger I experience when I see pictures of ducks covered in oil and I read about how Obama is calling this the worst environmental disaster in American history, and yet the oil's still flowing and we're now consulting James Cameron about how to stop it. "We're fucked." -Mermaids.

Anyway, more importantly, in boner jokes and guitar solo news, this headline from the Daily News stole away the title of Tatyana's Favorite Newspaper Headline. Sorry, "The Burger That Shattered Her Life."



"Tell me about it." -Nerds

Now, I took some journalism classes in college (college!) and from what I can remember when I wasn't doing keg stands (crying in the library), a headline is supposed to present key components of the story while piquing the reader's interest so that she'll continue on to read the full article. On one hand, accomplished, Daily News. I definitely see some key components there, and my interest was definitely piqued by the intersection of two of my favorite things: nerds and pole dancers. But on the other hand, you kinda blew your load straight off. I mean, YA NO DUH DOI a nerd's world was turned upside down by a sexy pole dancer. "I had no ideas that human breasts moved, unlike the elfin breasts of my online girlfriend in World of Warcraft. Why is my inhaler on the ceiling? Which way is my world facing?"



Well, up until about 5 minutes ago, I basically thought this was a sweet song, featuring a sweet guitar solo and a rocking-era Pat Benatar about how children can just go to hell. Whoops. I'd like one sesame bagel, lightly toasted and just slather on the REAL cheese this morning. Listen Pat, I think it's great to spread awareness of and give a poignant voice to the very real and very tragic crime of child abuse. But, doesn't following it up with a guitar solo seem kinda inappropriate?



I realized at a BBQ last night (my life is really terrible, weekday BBQs are the worst!) that I've got a lot of travel plans, and subsequently, I'm turning into one of those assholes who only talks about traveling. "I'd prefer to stay in Positano, but the ferry to Tunis leaves so early from Salerno, I just don't know what to do!" Ugh, seriously, I even hope that I trip and fall on my Tevas and accidentally self-immolate when my Green Travel Guide ignites on the hash I'm smoking. But, in preparation for all these trips, I've been compiling some great songs about/from the places that I'm going (because being a nerd requires no preparation). Like the Pacific Coast! Hi Dennis Wilson!



I once saw Blonde Redhead on Randall's Island, and it was actually my own personal version of hell. I mean, the bands were great! It was at the apex of the Arcade Fire fury and the band's live performance was insane. LCD Soundsystem played too, and they're great! But, just to give an example, there were so many people there that the port a potties were literally oozing human waste into the crowd. The end of the night then basically turned into Lost when we had to wait in line for over an hour to walk across a bridge to Harlem. WE'VE GOT TO GET OFF THIS ISLAND! I never thought I would make it home and see my friends and loved ones (cats!) ever again! Wow, I have had a life actually fraught with white people peril.



I can't find much information about this band Earth and Fire. All I know is that they are Dutch, and they were influenced by the Moody Blues, both of which are apparent in this rad band photos.



This song is pretty sweet because it has that weird offish feeling that the best ABBA songs do. Like, I don't know if it's because the singers don't speak English or because these parodies of American disco are so hyperaccurate that they take the sound to an even more plastic level. But I think that if the word "meta" was a meme in the 1970s, Lester Bangs would've been all, "Whoa, meta."



Oh Bruce, it's been awhile of peasant-skirted 70s Boho waifs and early metal bands. But it's summer, and I have about 3 weeks left in this humid, oppressive armpit of a city that I love and cherish and will really miss, and so you're exactly what I want right now. Also, around 4:22 things get real from all kinds of different angles.

Bartender I'd like a nice tall glass of dies alone, please.

On this 2nd episode of The Bachelorette we have to deal with a bunch of jerks going on dates or not going on dates with Ali as the continuous process of cutting down the doucheyness gets under way. Seriously though, someone call the pool guy cause we're gonna need an industrial grade douche filter. If you are new to the ways and means of The Bachelorette, a few lucky guys go on one-on-one dates, a few guys go on group dates, and a few losers get the shaft and have to desperately grasp for Ali's drunken (and I mean DRUUUUNKEN) attention at the pre-rose ceremony champagne mixers. You know, typical real life dating stuff.

So, everyone's favorite nerd Frank gets the lucky first date, which brought up several questions for me, most of them being how did this fucking nerd get such a great body? Seriously, he's like an Italian soccer player if Italian soccer players had slumped shoulders from playing computer games all day and ran like duck-legged Lord of the Rings fans.

Because they do run. Down the I-5, cause the sweet vintage car they rented breaks down.



Then they go to Hollywood and everyone wants Ali's autograph because :( America.



Then they make out in front of the Hollywood sign.



I don't know about you guys, but my viewing experience of The Bachelorette was sponsored by VisitCalifornia.com, which is strangely timely product placement because I just bought a one-way plane ticket to Los Angeles, and my mind is already pretty much playing in drum circles on Venice Beach right now. But like take it easy, California. We all know you're really rad.


Ankle socks are for lovers

And while we're at it, take it easy, Ali. It's only the 2nd episode of The Bachelorette and you're already talking about how Frank has shown you that one man can possess all the qualities of a husband that you desire? Frank gets the rose. Nerds-1, Douchebags-all the other points




Back at the thermae, people are really hating on the pro wrestler, especially Craig R. who is kinda being a crazy girlfriend about it. He literally called Rated R out for lying to him, and then spent the rest of this weird confrontation nitpicking around something that has A. caused little harm and B. what harm it has caused in no way involves him. Take it easy, Craig R. I'm just going snowboarding with the guys this weekend. I'll call you when I get back.



Haha WHUUUT? These dudes are the worst at everything including feigning drama at the behest of The Bachelorette's producers. Also, what possible expletives could Craig M. put before the word "tattoos"? Also, Ali is clearly however looking for that hat. Also, "What, did your mum give you those?"*

Craig M. is my favorite kind of asshole--namely one that has so little normative brain function as to be rendered a complete idiot by his own actions. I mean, how great is that, right? What little intelligence he does have is directed at humiliating others in such a completely obvious way that he comes off as a hysterically funny schumuck. Every day I go to work all "time to make the LOLnuts," and sometimes I just wanna sit back and let someone else make an idiot of himself. What I'm saying is, marry me Craig M. Also, I think the only reason this dude passes for sober at any given moment is because people mistake his drunken slurring for a Canadian accent.**

Anyway, the group date is a photo shoot for a Hunky Guys of The Bachelorette calendar. Oh awesome. I was hoping that my 2012 desk calendar to the apocalypse would be Bachelorette-themed. It gets better though, because this particular calendar is going to be sold for charity. Haha the nebulous thing known as "charity" and a terrible show that promotes impossible and heteronormative ideas of romantic love and relationships' misguided attempts at donating to it.

The Weatherman is being a little bitch about his short shorts because, as he is the first to say, he has a tiny turtle life preserver.



Ty gets the group date rose because he serenades Ali with his acoustic guitar and Ali is the fucking queen of the fauxhemians. Meanwhile, catch up Mr. Rated R!



Ali then goes on another one-on-one date with Jesse whose voice sounds like tectonic plates shifting and who spends a lot of time making his hair look terrible. They go to Las Vegas where in true Vegas fashion, they proceed to be the worst.



Back at the house drama continues to brew as The Weatherman makes Craig M. out to be the evil twin of the bad guy on a soap opera. Which I mean, if the Susan Lucci fits or whatever...


"There's gonna be a storm in the hoase tonight"***

The Weatherman pulls a total Ali-Vienna on Ali and tells her that he thinks Craig M. is dangerous, then goes on to confess that if Ali keeps Craig M. around then Ali is just not the right girl for him, which is just a totally fucking gross Ali thing to do. GET MARRIED AND HAVE TERRIBLE EMOTIONALLY RETARDED BABIES ALREADY. So Craig M. puts on The Weatherman's clothes and covertly calls him gay by mocking his masculinity because 34 year old man.




But also, fuck this little twerp.



So, it's finally the fucking rose ceremony! And Ali is waaaasted! Like visibly hobbling around on her high heels and slurring what may or may not be sexual advances at the beefier of the dudes. Which in all honesty, kind of makes me respect her more? Fucking GO FOR IT Ali. We've all been there. Sometimes you just need to guzzle white wine to ease the feeling that you could be raped at any moment.

Hi Roberto.



Whoa, keep it in your pants, Ali.

Blah blah blah rose ceremony. Seriously, who are most of these guys? Were they on this show the whole time? Why is my glass of white wine empty? Also, I predict that Frank the Nerd is gonna be our attempted suicider. Bartender another round of sadness, please!

*Canadian joke #1
**Canadian joke #2
***Canadian joke #3

The Bachelorette is always a little bit easier for me to wrap my woman brain around. I am a woman who is attracted to men, and who has been for some time, ergo I am a bit more familiar with the idiotic tricks and traits of trained dating ponies who happen to be men. The Bachelorette also tends to set off my misogyny alarm slightly less frequently.

Buuut, then there's Ali.


"Namaste marriage" -Ali

Remember this nightmare from The Bachelor? Of course you do. It was only like 2 episodes into it that I called her as the next Bachelorette (if only I could use my powers for good and not blah). Ali let her fear and insecurity rule her life. Her fear and insecurity of being destitute and impoverished by losing a job in a declining economy where obtaining employment is becoming increasingly difficult? It's never really specified. What is clear though is that this was the wrong thing to do, because she has now quit her job and moved out of her apartment. So she is unemployed and homeless and total marriage material? Cool. FYI she worked for Facebook.


Aaaand the disembodied female form, if you haven't had enough feminism yet.

So, it's time to meet the guys! And boy, I can think of a few adjectives to describe these guys, but "winners," "acceptable" and "non-rapey" are none of those. Let's begin the arduous process of unpacking this clown car full of white dudes, huh?

A nerd that lives with his parents and writes screenplays:



WAZZZUPPPP NERDZZZZZ!!!

Canadian Club guy:


"WATCH OAT TORONTO!"

Obviously, Kyle is the best.


"Am I afraid of the other 25 guys? No! I killed a bear!" -Tatyana's future husband

"Mr. Rated R," a professional wrestler (A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER!!)



Cross-referenced under soul patch.

Chris Harrison, you can't be on The Bachelorette!


"I am juggling balls"

And then there's Mr. Dead Brother (sorry) who now trains for triathalons. Can we just go ahead and save everyone (me) a lot of time and irritation and just call this right now.



Sometimes when I'm out at a bar in the Midwest I get really confused because all the single white dudes look and act like this. There's this modern recipe of like a cup of athleticism dashed with a touch of creativity, sprinkled with a brief encounter with personal tragedy and then baked in mother-love until crispy, that somehow all viable husband candidates seem to be made by.

But then there's Roberto. Oh hi Roberto. Cue salsa music. Literally, they cued the salsa music.


"He's so cal-ee-en-tay!"

One guy made a scrapbook. This is the "Be ridiculous" page. Um, accomplished?



One guy told Ali about how he got the nickname "Shooter."



Hint: he also could've been nicknamed "Premature Ejaculator," so he's lucky that Shooter was what stuck.

So... those are the contenders, give or take. And, much like visitors to a foreign land, we are all in the process of acclimating to our new surroundings where the air is thin due to the low oxygen to doucheyness ratio. And much like Hans Castorp after a few months at the Magic Mountain, we are getting used to not getting used to this incredibly unnatural environment. But then Chris Harrison drops one of his legendary Chris-bombs. The guys will have to vote on who they think is there for the wrong reasons, and then Ali will be able to chose if he should be prematurely evacuated or shootered or whatevered. FAIR ENOUGH, let's ferret out the Roslyns before this whole thing turns into something that isn't just super totally honest and dignified.



The guys all gang up on Mr. Rated R for some reason. I think it may have to do with the fact that he's an "entertainment" wrestler, which the guys are quick to call out for what it is, namely a crusher of boyhood dreams (which, consequently, is my pro wrestling name). Do I think Mr. Rated R is there for the wrong reasons? you are obviously asking yourself because you really care. I don't know, but according to the previews, this little coup de Chris does nothing to prevent the Roslynification of this show because apparently one of these fine, viable young gentleman has a girlfriend.


Hahaha THIS GUY.

Anyway, Mr. Rated R convinces Ali of his good intentions and his good choices in facial hair, so she allows him a rose.

Roberto gets the first impression rose cause DUHHHHHH. Look at those fucking dimples. I wanna drink champagne out of them!



The guys are pretty pissed about this because apparently Roberto was using unfair tactics, such as doing a "hot sauce dance," which actually I think means manipulating Ali's racial fetishization and the age old stereotype of spicy Latin lover to stick it out for the first rose ceremony. How dare he? It's so hard to be a white dude these days!

Ali's nervousness throughout this whole thing is palpable. Like, okay, I can only imagine that if you subscribe not only to an outdated notion of marriage and romance, but also to the unlikely and incredibly stupid idea that you will find that version of love on reality TV, then okay, this is a big moment for you. But does Ali's nervousness have to manifest in a series of snorts, squeals and biting back of tears? Ugh. This face:



Anyway, rose ceremony! Baiii some guys. BAIIII Shooter. Baiiii Kyle, call me next time you're bear hunting!



Let's be real, this season of The Bachelorette looks off the fucking hinges. Is there a better way to set women up for the incredible disappointments of the give and take, day to day realities of a long-term romantic relationship than traveling around the world on adventures with finely muscled men? Also, Barenaked Ladies cover band and two bachelors from Canada? Also, attempted suicide?! Drama?! Turkey?! Strap on your baby clocks ladies, cause shoe shoppinggggg!