Wednesday 25 August 2010


Forgive me, but I’m disturbed today, as civilization has officially hit rock bottom. I just read that some guy from a reality show called “Jersey Shore” was going to pull in five million dollars in earnings this year. Five MILLION DOLLARS. His name is…sorry I need to work up to this as I may choke on my tongue…“The Situation.” Apparently Frank was too commonplace for a man from Jersey. Firstly, since when is The Situation a name? Prince was allowed to be egregiously pretentious and call himself a sign only because he is so damn talented. And this is after years of putting out hit after hit, not a few episodes of some show that pretends to be real life. The situation is indeed dire – yes a pun is intended cause it’s so damn easy – when this moron can pull in seven figures a year, especially because as far as I can gather all this man does is hold his shirt up and show his abs. 

Apparently, between his salary from the show…wait I have to stop for a moment; I’ve never understood this. It’s a reality show, about their supposed real lives. Why are these people paid salaries to be themselves? They should be paying the show to put them on TV. Or more importantly, they should be paying people to watch this stuff. [Apparently someone is watching it and this fact worries me even more]. 

Sorry, where was I…he also makes money from his endorsement deals – he was just paid almost half a million dollars to be the face of some protein infused vodka, cause yes, it’s good for staying lean and keeping those abs front and center, and lastly, he pulls in money from his own products. Again, I’m thinking an ab machine of some sort, or wait for it, body oil to lube up them abs. Apparently he also gets paid to show up places and simply be his dazzling self. I’d like to meet the establishment or group of individuals that are paying this man to show up and lift up his shirt.

And it gets better; he also has his own clothing line, exercise tape, and is writing his autobiography: ‘Me and my abs, a love story.’ Don’t get me started on people that write autobiographies when their accomplishments can be summed up in a sentence. I may have to shoot myself…actually, scratch that; I may have to shoot the people that let this happen. What I don’t understand is how there not mutiny in the streets by the common folk in economic times like these. The hardworking people of the world that toil and slave away at 9 to 5 jobs. If I walked into a bar and saw The Situation (oh god it pains me to write his name) trying to hawk some vodka beverage as he stroked his eight pack, I may smash him over the head with the bottle. Then again, if I had known I could’ve made this sort of money I would’ve lifted up my shirt a long time ago.

Copyright © 2014 Anthea Anka - Delighted And Disturbed