The Five Most Annoying Jersey Shore Characters

Not from the show (too easy)—the Shore

With only a few weeks of summer left, we have precious few opportunities to enjoy the Jersey Shore and all that comes with it—melanoma; rest-stop Whoppers on the A.C. Expressway eaten in desperation and self-loathing; cover bands. There really is a lot to miss when the fall sweeps in and the sunshine feels a little less warm. There are also a few things worth leaving behind, specifically those loathsome troglodytes who can turn a serene beach afternoon into the equivalent of a torture-porn flick; think Saw XIV: By The Sea. So in the spirit of calling out the gym rats and Phillies fans who are similarly insufferable, behold the third installment of Folks Who Irritate The Crap Out Of Me. And please share your own pet peeves in the comments section. Maybe, just maybe, if we can get through to one Speedo-wearing toolbox, the Shore will be a better place for everyone.

The Animal Planet Family
Aw, honey, isn’t that adorable? Hunter and Teagan are feeding the seagulls! Glad we thought to pack a whole loaf of bread so they can occupy themselves by feeding hordes of winged, dive-bombing predators. They really are like feathery little meth addicts once they get a taste of some Stroehmann’s, aren’t they? Oh my. And look! Now they’re tearing sandwiches out of the hands of unsuspecting sunbathers. Isn’t nature wonderful?

The Banana Hammock Guy
I see you checking me out. Bronzed bod, Oakleys, and my piece de resistance—the Speedo that can barely contain the hermit crab in my pants. Saw some guy from Quebec rockin’ one of these in Wildwood and thought to myself, “I needs me some tight junk-wrap for the Shore.” Try to contain yourselves, ladies. I’ll be here all season, walking aimlessly up and down the beach for your eyeball pleasure. Anybody got some talc? I’m feeling a little swampy down south, know what I’m sayin’?

The Space Invader Family
Whew, it is a scorcher today. Don’t think I can walk any farther, so let’s set up shop here—approximately six inches from these other folks. Never mind all of that open sand around us. This spot just feels right. I’m sure they won’t care that we’re close enough to smell their sunscreen. Mmmmm, mango coconut—nice choice, lady! Maybe they’ll even help us set up the three-ring circus tent we lugged down so all 75 members of our extended family can sit in the shade. I bet everyone around us will love it if we blast our radio, too.

The Sandblaster Guy
If there’s one thing in this world I can’t stand, it’s sand in my beach bag or the trunk of my car. That’s why I’m not just going to shake off my blanket—I’m going to whip this thing like it’s Willow Smith’s braids. Funny that they said it would be breezy today. I’m barely noticing the 30-m.p.h. gusts. No idea why everyone downwind from me is cringing in pain, either. It’s like they’re being pelted by thousands of microscopic needles or something. Huh. Well, that’s one towel down. Seven more to go.

The Aspiring Real Housewives of the Jersey Shore Girl
This is totes the best summer ever, you guys. There’s nothing I heart more than baking in the sun all day and loudly recapping my drunken exploits from the night before so everyone within 20 blanket-lengths, including small children and the elderly, can hear about my complete lack of self-respect and apparent Daddy issues. I was so intoxies at the O.D. that I almost fell off my eight-inch platform sandals. You know what’s, like, really weird? The fine line between being tan and looking like a burn victim. Does this mascara make my boobs look big? I’m so hooking up tonight.