Our friends over at The Bullblog have delightful news for the Ivy League’s hair-gel, fake-tanner, and Axe deodorant enthusiasts (a bigger demographic than you would expect.) In the coming week, Yalies will have not one, but two opportunities to fist pump the night away with everyone’s favorite oversexed bon-vivants: the cast of MTV’s inexplicable-reality-hit, Jersey Shore. Vinny “I don’t know if she’s using that for protection” Guadagnino, the Jersey Shore’s least stereotypical resident (not saying much), will be throwing down at Elevate bar and nightclub on Thursday. Grab tickets fast; the Facebook Event indicates that over a hundred lucky Yalies will be in attendance. We presume that he will then be leading a Master’s Tea discussion on the topic of futurism and transnational identity in early 20th century Florence. The scholar muses:
Guys with the blow-outs and the fake tans, and guys that wear lip gloss and makeup, those aren’t guidos, those are retards.
A freethinking iconoclast indeed. But if you can’t make the Vinny party–or if you’re on the market for a far more ludicrous caricature–then head on over to Gotham Citi Cafe this weekend, where none other than the infamous Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi will be preaching the guidette gospel. Highlights might include:
My ideal man would be Italian, dark, muscles, juice-head, guido.
When I say I’m ready to go wild, I’m gonna go wild.
I’m fat. I’m about to eat a sausage right now. F*CK YOU ALL!!!
I am a princess at home, like, I am the f*cking princess of f*cking Poughkeepsie. Here, I am nobody, I’m like emotionally exhausted.
We’re waiting with baited breath. Will Snooki find love and existential fulfillment at Yale? Will she find a New Poughkeepsie in New Haven? Will she eat a sausage? Will she get punched in the face? Vinny has similarly high expectations for his Yale visit:
When I hear the music, I start fist-pumping, I start dancing, I’m pulling girls on stage and now… Vinny came out to play baby.
Drink your Red Bull, Yalies. And girls?:
I don’t give a f**k if you’re fat, you’re ugly, you’re 45 years old. I’ll dance with ya. I think it’s hilarious.
In short, any fun-loving Eli on the market for a misrepresentative Italian-American–or an intellectual, emotional and sexual clubbing experience of epic proportions–should have one hell of a weekend. Get juiced, get tan, get ready. Well, except if tacit racism and stereotyping aren’t really your thing.
A splendid time is guaranteed for all: