I have so many questions about “Floribama Shore” (SO MANY) and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m older than these maniacs or if it’s because I was raised in a different socioeconomic class than most, if not all, of them (and in the very North of Norths), or if it’s because I’m a just a jerk and a snob.
I don’t necessarily want to be a jerk and a snob, but I’m not sure what the alternative is here and I’m so close to accepting that this is just who I am.
Each new episode has me wince-watching and chastising myself for thinking things like “But if they would just read a book maybe they wouldn’t be so upset …” or “Don’t rely on being a princess goddess mermaid trophy wife! That won’t end well for you, Aimee!”
At least two people on the show have been homeless. I suspect half of them grew up below the poverty line. And I’m not sure about the high-school studying situation.
Never miss a local story.
“Jersey Shore” — even though yeah, those guys weren’t exactly Rhodes Scholars — felt like it had some boundaries … some.
You could tell the cast were raised by actual parents, anyway.
There were standards.
I don’t know.
It just felt less sad than “Floribama Shore” and more like a loving parody of a subculture, not a dead-serious depiction, like the People of Walmart page.
You could laugh with the “Jersey Shore” cast and not just at them because no matter what depraved or ridiculous thing happened on the screen, it felt like they were all going to be just fine after the show ended — even The Situation, who was always destined for tax problems, fame or no fame.
Maybe I’m being overly nostalgic for Snooki, Pauly D and the rest of that endearing crew, but dollar draft night and fights over chicken wouldn’t have felt so dangerous and hopeless on their show.
I don’t remember looking at any of them — not even scary Angelina — and thinking “I hope you have someone in your life who loves you and who checks in on you to make sure you’re alive and healthy.”
Reality shows are supposed to be entertaining, and not make us want to start scholarship funds and Christmas present drives for the cast.
Although, OK … I’m being too harsh.
“Floribama Shore” is still very entertaining.
Never in my life have teasers left me looking forward to food poisoning before.
But still, I have questions.
I’ll get to those.
Here’s where we stand with the Panama City Beach roommates, some of whom might still have that taco soup-related diarrhea …
▪ OK. Question one: What the heck does “salty” even mean? I thought it was like bad language or angry behavior. But the way Nilsa uses the word, that would make no sense. “If I was salty why was I calling my ex-husband?” No really. I puzzled over this one for a while. So you don’t call your ex-husband when you’re upset? Ever? Just when you’re not upset? To the point that calling him is absolute proof that you didn’t have an attitude with Codi?
▪ When Kayla Jo called Nilsa a child and then was like “Aimee? Aimee’s a part of this now?,” I was like please don’t make me have to keep track of you, too, Kayla Jo. You don’t know how Aimee is. We know Aimee is and yeah, of course she’s part of this and she’s part of it in a spaghetti-strap shirt that makes her bellybutton look like a star died and then folded in on itself. You don’t live there, girl. There are already too many roommates who sound the same both in accent and conversation content.
▪ Question two: Did it really take until episode three for a roommate to start ruining the jacuzzi with their love-strangers? Impressive. Nice work, Gus. I knew it would be you to break that thing in.
▪ Again, Nilsa did not misunderstand you, Kayla Jo. In no world does the “I’m watching you” signal mean anything other than “Don’t step out of line because I will see when you do and deal with it in a way that will make you have to get tattoos of other facial features in addition to those eyebrows.” Does anyone actually believe Kayla Jo was trying to call Nilsa hot? Please. She’s just a big chicken wiccan.
▪ Question three: Why was there a giant bottle of Gold Bond Medicated Body Powder with Triple Action Relief on the coffee table next to a couch-sleeping Kirk? It’s stupid for me to wonder this, but individual health and beauty routines leave me curious. First of all, whose was it? Second, was it for chafing? Easier sliding against another human being? Was it to cover a smell? Is it a shoe thing? Is someone’s grandma visiting?
▪ I really want to skip this part but I can’t: Nilsa humped a couch (like an animal) then she imagined an “aught-optsy” on her genitalia, which would declare that (post-mortem, one assumes) it was still, as it was in life, made of steel. And, oh, she also decided that no one loves her because she’s not 30 and her butt is not flat like Kayla Jo’s. So OK … what … why … I guess my question (No. 4) is how did you get a steel vagina? I thought we had to import steel from China these days and that’s why politically everyone’s always angry but wistful and saying things like “Remember when Americans used to make things?”
▪ Gus. Gus. Gus. He makes no sense. He and his twinsie, Kirk, talk about how chaste they actually are (which, sure). And he tries to come off as a gentleman. I guess. But then he refers to the girls in the house as “disrespectful little bitches.” I mean, yeah. OK. They are. I can see that. But you’re not allowed to call them that, Gus. Women don’t exist to eat chicken wings, thank you for those chicken wings and then pleasure you later because those chicken wings were terrific.
▪ Kayla Jo is a wiccan, which I assume is the worst thing you could tell a homeschooler about yourself. I’m surprised Jeremiah didn’t gasp “Harry Potter” in a British voice and then call his mom-teacher and whisper into the phone “What you told me might happen if I went on an MTV reality show JUST DID. There is a witch in the building! What do I do? Mama, I’m scared.”
▪ Codi snores like a pug and pukes like a high-school girl … that poor kid. It’s all kind of cute, of course, but so far his story line is: “This pinkish noise-maker is here too.”
▪ Wait. Is no one telling Nilsa about the wiccan thing? Seriously? Was that not the first order of business???
▪ Question five: Why was Kayla Jo calling Kirk “Derique”? That was kind of racist, right? Also, why am I talking about Kayla Jo?
▪ THEY HAD SPINACH IN THAT HOUSE! THIS WHOLE TIME? A REAL VEGETABLE?
▪ Kortni, please look at Candace’s pink onesie pajamas. Notice how there’s no animal hood? Now notice Candace’s age. Now notice how classy Candace is compared with the rest of you. Now look down at what you’re wearing. Does it have a tail? OK, sweetie.
▪ Aimee demanded that chicken be brought to her in the pool and then complained about how the boys ate the chicken (that the boys made) and then yelled about it Jerry Springer-style while smoking a Newport … is why I’m a jerk and a snob. Sorry. Team Kirk on that one. Aimee can be scary about chicken.
▪ When Jeremiah dabs, it looks like he’s literally softly saying the word “DAB” to himself in his head.
▪ Aimee’s taco soup segment started out hilarious, then got really sad when she talked about how poor she is and how “Ray-men noodles” were her only other staple, then got hilarious again when everyone started to poo-pace and get the meat sweats. All of this shouldn’t be funny. But yeah, it was funny.
▪ When Aimee was on the beach and whined “My feet hurt,” there was likely one still-very-traumatized nail technician out there who screamed “I HOPE THEY DO, SHOE-FOOT” at the television screen.
▪ Question six: Are Kirk and Aimee going to fall in love? Is MTV trying to make us think they might?
▪ Why hasn’t anyone told Nilsa that Kayla Jo is a wiccan? Am I … am I crazy? TELL HER. I want to hear her reaction.
▪ Quote of the night from Aimee: “There’s more drama here than there is in Perdido, Ala. I’d rather deal with my boyfriend having a baby with someone else ….” (I promise you, Chicken-gate is not more stressful than that, girl.)
▪ Second quote of the night, also from Aimee: “I don’t know how to pour grease out.” (I think we just found out the diarrhea culprit right here)
▪ Question seven: How did Codi know that 40 nickels is $2 but not that 20 is $1? What has he been doing in his life to gave him that ready knowledge?
▪ I never want to hear “chi-chis up” again. Seriously. That is so dumb, Nilsa.
▪ Not dumb? Skipping that shot from that redneck. That was like the smartest thing Nilsa has ever done. I get that it was nice for that redneck to get them shots, but sorry, no … no drinks from strangers at dollar draft night or anywhere.
▪ When that redneck told Nilsa she could get attention if she just “shut her mouth,” I got legit scared for everyone’s future. This is Florida. FLORIDA. RUN. Then that banshee came out of nowhere and it was like “Yeah. That’s … that’s about right. RUNNNNN.”
▪ THEN IT GOT SCARIER. Codi’s observation: “I’m like ‘uh-oh.’ Kirk needs to be careful. This is the kind of bar where ‘those’ people come … ‘dollar draft people.’” Dollar draft people? He meant racists! Kirk was absolutely in his right to mouth off to those rednecks (and some of it was funny) but my God. I was sweating. It was like that scene in “Get Out” when Chris finally escapes and the police car pulls in and you’re just like “Oh boy. He’s not rescued. This isn’t going to end well.”
▪ Nilsa still doesn’t know Kayla Jo is wiccan. What is going on with this show? I wish there were a call-in option.
▪ That brawl was so gross and I hate knowing that things like this exists in real life, but I rather enjoyed watching a still-swinging Kortni get gracefully carried off like she was starring in a karate version of “Swan Lake.”
▪ Nilsa knows. Heh. That was worth the wait.