*clears throat, adjusts monocle*
Good day, fair gentles. I must ask you at this moment to collect every book you own, put it in a pile, then take a giant shit on it and set it all aflame. You no longer require that drivel. There is but one book in your world now. Greater than any bible or dogma, finer than any work of so-called “fine literature” you can imagine.
The art of the written word has a new queen, NAY I SAY TO YOU, a goddess. And her name is Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi. Her hair is high, her skin is the color of Olestra-induced discharge, and her prose is as layered as the seminal fluid ring around her hot tub. She is Snooki. Hear her roar.
Selections from A Shore Thing:
He had an okay body. Not fat at all. And naturally toned abs. She could pour a shot of tequila down his belly and slurp it out of his navel without getting splashed in the face.
When she slurped the tequila out of that nameless man’s navel, I think she was really speaking to the human condition.
Yum. Johnny Hulk tasted like fresh gorilla.
Her word pictures put me right there at her side. I can almost taste the gorilla. Tastes like stale latex, Cool Water for Men, and regret.
Any juicehead will get some nut shrinkage. And bacne. They fly into a ‘roid rage, it is a ‘road’ ‘roid rage.
So ‘roidy. Like the storm.
Gia danced around a little, shaking her peaches for show. She shook it hard. Too hard. In the middle of a shimmy, her stomach cramped. A fart slipped out. A loud one. And stinky.
Me right now:
I love food. I love drinking, boys, dancing until my feet swell. I love my family, my friends, my job, my boss. And I love my body, especially the badonk.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And we’ve beheld such beauty. Such elegant, graceful beauty. She’s like a swan. Like a pregnant swan.