I’m Going to the Jersey Shore, Bitch.

Did you know that one of my favorite events of last winter was watching MTV’s The Jersey Shore? I must have mentioned it at least once, because it is the realest reality tee vee out there. I know this… because that is where I am from.*

This past weekend, Dave and I took a little trip down the shore to stay with Ma and Pa Novak, walk some boards, eat some fried stuff, clean out some closets, shop some thrifts and meet some friends’ inappropriately young girlfriends. (tsk. tsk.)

I’m a very bad documentary-style photo-taker. I would much rather play skee-ball than have my picture taken while playing skee-ball, nor would I take the picture of someone else having fun when I could be indulging in fun myself. I am becoming okay with this assertion. However, the lights of Seaside Heights, NJ are so bright and sparkly that I did decide to fiddle around with my camera. I think some of the shots are pretty nice. Turns out that talent costs about 500 bucks, American.

The Wild Mouse

Seriously! The colors!

Fool the Guesser once: shame on you. Fool the Guesser twice: won’t be fooled again.

Booths, staffed by bored teenagers, that emanate light!

I kept grabbing Dave’s hand and announcing, “Hey assholes! Look at me! I have a boyfriend now!” I think I spent so much time alone on the boardwalk during college that I almost gave myself a complex.

Not only that, but when we pose together, we always look like we’d be an awesome band.

The color separation feature is cheesy but so worth it.

Waiter, our reality check, please!

My dead, dead eyes don’t properly convey how much I love the game behind me: Pin Bot or The Only Pinball Game that Matters to Me. I played this game on my old Nintendo for years straight. Years. No other games. And then when I worked in the Carousel Arcade, I played the real-life, real-time version that you see behind me. I think they must have given it some love recently because it never worked all that well but, this summer, it was crisp and springy and…uh…working. I sometimes very, very often think about getting BP’s sexy robot illustration tattooed on my person but, if that were the case, I feel like I should bring a stronger game to the table, ya know?

More nighttime photos can be seen in my Flickr stream. Just direct yourself to the links on the sidebar of this blog for maximum perusal pleasure.

Ah! But one last photo, daytime style:

What is up with the George’s Pizza dude? Is he taking his shirt off? Putting it on? Either way, I really don’t want his rippling muscles getting in the way of me cramming a 13″ slice of plain pizza into my maw. 13″ because around here, pizzas come in “large” (18″) and “giant” (27″) diameters.

Jersey Shore, how i miss thee already.

*For those of you who have refused to join us in the 21st Century, please refer to the first two Bruce Springsteen albums as a cultural touchstone, particularly “4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)

For me this boardwalk life’s through baby
You ought to quit this scene too

5 thoughts on “I’m Going to the Jersey Shore, Bitch.

  1. Shilo says:

    Great photos! I feel like a touch of an asshole as I lived in NYC for six years without ever visiting New Jersey. People talk crap on the shore, but I bet it’s fun.

    Also yes, you guys would totally be a cool band.

    • royalnonesuch says:

      it’s a pretty good experience, for sure. if you end up with a time machine and go back to your NYC days,keep in mind that the 319 bus from Port Authority sometimes runs right to the ocean.

  2. Melissa Joy says:

    you and dave look stunning!

  3. […] areas with very little of the extent of the devastation currently calculated. Entire areas that I love have been washed into the sea and, even though being would not have helped, I feel all the more […]

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