I . . . I take back all those things I said about Roger. I take back all those terrible things I said about that big bronze mountain of a man, that emotionally mature mass of delts and teeny prickly moustache hairs. Roger is a mensch, as we find out in the first fifteen seconds of this week’s episode. “I trust you emphatically,” he reassures a silent Jenni on the phone. “I don’t understand who fucked you over so bad in the past that you’re taking it out on me. I love you.” Which is all any of us, even those of us not living on a TV show, can hope for, right? J-Woww eventually agrees that their love is stronger than Roger being an hour late to their date, and they move on. As Deena explains, “Roger is 65 years old, so he’s not going to be playing all these baby games.” Real. Talk.
To make up for getting drunk and scampering off on the job (“I’ll be honest – I forgot we were even at work after a while,” Deena admits), the Meatballs decide to bake Danny the King of All the T-Shirts an apology cake. Deena initially suggests buying him a bagel . . . and the rest of the cast swiftly confirms her retardation. “You should have put hot dogs in the cake,” Pauly tells them by way of a cooking suggestion, though I personally find it hard to believe there weren’t hot dogs in that cake to begin with. I find it hard to believe there aren’t hot dogs in everything the cast eats and drinks and wears and brings home to have sex with. Isn’t this show made entirely out of rubbery, pink hot dogs? And I’m not being metaphorical?
Of course, after the girls finish cooking and wrap up their girl, we enter The Mystery of Who Ate That Goddamn Cake? The house immediately suspects the Situation, as he is the turgid orange root of all evil. However! Soon it’s revealed that it was Pauly who snuck a slice of the surprisingly hot dog-free cake, and everyone has a good laugh! And the Situation silently plots everyone’s grisly demise from the seclusion of his own muscle prison.
Vinny and Pauly are particularly cuddly this episode, flirtatiously referring to one another as each other’s bitches. “Me and Pauly are going to take this to the next level, forever,” Vinny promises. “It is definitely a date,” Pauly crows after he buys Vinny lunch. “Hopefully I’ll get it in later.” Gentlemen! You two are shamelessly appealing to the gay demographic, and it’s working perfectly (on me)! Jersey Shore turned into a hardcore gay sex show so gradually, I didn’t even notice, is what I will be keying into my holo-port in the year 2025. I’ll also be typing it on my keyboard. Badum-ching! Thank you! Thank you! I’ll be here all millennium! Remember to tip your sub-sentient sex-borg!
Later, Pauly sneaks a bunch of old, filthy dishes onto Deena’s bed in an attempt to ruin her smoosh plans. As if Deena wasn’t already sleeping and boning on a gigantic pile of tangled neon weave and crusty teddy bears and filth panties and grimy make-up sponges and Molten Hot Wings Ruffles dust and tear-stained Kleenexes and hopes and dreams and bugs and so, so many bugs already. As if.
Meanwhile, Snooki has somehow withstood the mind-splitting pain of a UTI for several days now, finally breaking down and going to a walk-in clinic. My, how she reads the phrase “rectal bleeding” off the medical check-in sheet with such distain! As if that wasn’t a completely plausible scenario! Let’s keep it real here, girl. In a sentence I never fathomed I would being writing when I took all those loans out to complete a Masters Degree, I have a few questions about Snooki’s admittedly butt-sex-induced UTI. First of all . . . everyone knows you have to wash it off before you switch, right? Am I correct in thinking that’s what’s going on here? Are there pockets of people who are switching without washing? Or am I totally misreading the situation? I feel like I’m interpreting things correctly, seeing as how Snooki cops to having roughly 10 UTIs in the past year. 10 UTIs! 10 UTIs = 1 Cancer, basically! Kids, if you’re reading this: print out this recap, highlight this entire paragraph, and keep it in your purse or wallet for reference: Wash. It. Off. Now I want to be the spokesperson for washing it off, or maybe Skrillex. I want Rolling Stone to be the leading source of Washing It Off propaganda. Here are some slogans for a possible Wash It Off Campaign:
• Don’t Just Frown – Wipe It Down
• UTI? Use Two (Condoms) Idiot
• When In Doubt, Take It Out (And Wash It Off)
But what do I know, guys? So little, so little in this short life of ours. The poor doctor prescribes Snooki some antibiotics that prohibit heavy drinking – i.e., he is basically prescribing her a case of renal failure. To wit: “I drank so much my frigging UTI was drunk,” Snooki declares later that evening. But really, I am not giving Snooks and the girls enough credit. They are conscientious enough to grill Deena’s date Joey about his sexual practices, fetching him a condom from Pauly’s room and educating him about Deena’s sexual proclivities. “That’s how she finishes off: merp!” Jenni shouts. They care so much, in fact, that Snooki even decides to watch Deena and Joey bone for . . . research purposes. Research on how not to be drunk and horny and bored. I believe she might actually have an NIH grant for that. As Snooki attempts to sneak in and watch them, Jenni respectfully whispers, “Give it five minutes, because it just got awkward.” Keeping On Washing in the Free World, ya’ll!
As for the Situation, mere hours after he and Paula shared that special moment (i.e. when she smoked a cigarette on the roof while he rubbed his wiener on her butt), he starts scamming on Snooki. “Did you see Varsity Blues?,” he slurs. Oh, you mean the first movie you took your grandkids to? I could say that the fact the Situation drunkenly suggests he and Snooki do handcuff-whipped-cream sex to each other, then immediately contacts the Unit to reactivate Operation: Enduring Asshole to destroy Snooki’s relationship says it all, but I don’t feel that I’d really be adding anything to the dialogue. “I feel bad that every time he’s kissing his girl, he’s kissing my area,” the Situation lies, later declaring, “I will not be made out to be a liar!” The Situation might be a sociopath, a Tiger Milk addict and a liar, but he is not Popeye. He has also never, ever, ever, ever washed it off. Ever. He wouldn’t even know how!
Another trip to Karma is in order and, as a present for Roger, J-Woww dresses like how I imagine God would dress if he were real. Her outfit is sort of like the dress that Julia Roberts wears in Pretty Woman, except instead of kowtowing to those snobby Rodeo Drive shop-girl bitches, Vivian just blew them all away with her rocket-launcher nipples. “It’s about freaking time,” Snooki cheers. “Your ass cheeks are out.” Breathes Roger, “I like the outfit, or lack thereof.” Unfortunately, wearing a slave cocktail waitress outfit outside the safety of a fifteen-year-old’s fantasy dungeon does have its downside. “In case I fight, I need a shirt,” Jenni worries. “What if somebody swings?” It’s Roger, however, who takes a punch to the face right at the very tail end of the episode. Oh man, have you ever seen a 65-year-old man with excellent communication skills and an Amazonian fembot girlfriend get angry? He will wash this whole world clean . . . starting, of course, with his own majestic wiener.
Last episode: Gloom and Doom