What you’re looking at is the cover to “Here’s The Situation: A Guide to Creeping on Chicks, Avoiding Grenades and Getting in Your GTL on the Jersey Shore.” Or “Douchebag Sandwich,” from here on out. According to a review posted by Jezebel, this epic tome clocks in at a massive 133 pages, most of which involve shopping for clothes:
No matter what T-shirt you select, whether it’s fitted, graphic, sequined, bedazzled, crew-neck, deep-V, wifebeater, or what-have-you, it’s about being proud of who you are. If you want to bust out a deep-V that’s safety-cone orange because you think that’s your color, then wear the hell out of that fruity shirt so everybody in the club knows that nobody owns it like you do. Set the trends, don’t follow them. I wear what makes me feel good because I’m at the tip of the spear—the cutting edge of fashion that’s fresh to death. When I see something I like, I grab it. My only system when I shop for fresh apparel is my own primal reaction to what I see, the moment I see it. When I enter a store, I trust my eye to zero in on what’s mint. That’s the single most effective system I have for knowing when to pull the trigger on a purchase. If I find myself hemming and hawing, that’s a clear indication that the garment in question is not destined to make my rotation. I walk away from the rack because I’ve failed to make a connection to those threads. On the other hand, if I know from the moment I see it that that particular piece is going to make me look awesome, I trust my instinct completely and it comes home with The Sitch.
If Hemingway’s corpse doesn’t headbutt its way out of his grave just to punch this kid in the guido-hole, I’ve lost absolutely all faith in the written word. In fact, I already feel cheap using it now. Everyone meet me out back so I can yell penis jokes at you.
*lights keyboard on fire*
Like JLo in Enough, words… OW!