Falling on a Grenade

Love ’em or hate ’em,  you just gotta respect ’em.

Philanthropic to a fault and more courteous and respectful than a young man asking his potential future father-in-law for his daughter’s hand in marriage,  these eight raven-haired ambassadors of decorum and dignity have burst onto the pop culture scene with such panache and aplomb that they are collectively destined to extend Mr Warhol’s statute of limitations with regard to fame for at least an additional ten minutes,  twelve minutes max.

Have you ascertained the identities of these eight upstanding citizens yet?

Do the letters G,  T,  and L hold any special significance for you?  How about if I spell it out for you?  Can I get a little Gym,  Tanning,  and Laundry around here?

Still stumped?  Then consider yourself lucky.  The folks to whom I am referring are none other than those lovable scamps known far and wide as the cast of Jersey Shore.

Oh yeah,  those guys.

Rather than blather on and on about how incredible this new season is and how you should be watching it,  I will respect the fact that most of my readers absolutely detest these talentless twits.   Which is why I feel the need to ask you all the following question:

Let’s suppose for a moment that the world is about to end and the only way to prevent its destruction falls squarely on your shoulders.   You must spend a consecutive twenty-four hour period with any cast member of your choosing.   You are such an altruistic person that never for a single second would you ever think about abstaining from participating so you are not allowed to play that card.

I have provided a photo with names to help those GTL virgins amongst you to make a more informed decision.   I will also include an anonymous poll for you to cast your vote.   Only the bravest will dare to leave a comment in the usual place.

Thank you for playing along.

Top: The Situation, Pauley D, Ronnie, Vinny. Bottom: JWoww, Sammi Sweetheart, Snooki, Angelina.

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