We're sure that Jersey Shore's Snooki, the greatest literary mind of her generation, needs no help writing her upcoming novel A Shore Thing!, but still we charged you with penning the first page of her book. Your submissions were genius.
Yes, there were lots of plays on literary tradition, but what we were looking for was something new and authentic. Not an autobiography or a crass joke, but something that seemed like it might actually start off a whole book based on the life of the pint-sized guidette. Here are some we found especially entertaining:
- Beach Blanket Bingo by Jamie18
- Rhinestone Cowgirl by BillieJeanIsMyLover
- Daddy Issues by Noah C. Wanebo
- Tony and Fartina's Wedding by Chatterbox
- Worst Part of Waking Up by CrookedE
- Vinny Romeo and Juliet by UrineToxicated
- Gorilla Juiceheads in the Mist by TomHanksIsHot
- Do the Bounce by Clamps
Thanks, everyone. You definitely made for some great reading. Those of you above who didn't already have stars definitely earned them.
But there can only be one winner. The following submission had the sort of tween lit vibe that Snooki (or her ghostwriter) will probably shoot for and starts off in just the right place, with a guidette and her best friend renting a hotel room for a weekend looking for "dudes." We will call it A Quest for Dudes by SharonBallBearings:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Who wrote that line, anyway? Danielle Steel? Probably. She's totally got that whole thinking vibe going on.
But yeah, it totally was the best of times and the worst of times that summer of o'ten. I'd begged the 'rents for so long to let me head up to the shore, but they kept telling me, "Irene, we live in New York; you go down to the shore; not up!"
They just didn't get it. I mean, they were being all grammatical and crap and all I wanted was to get my tan on! But they're cool; they finally said okay and my girl Gwen and I drove my dad's old Yugo like it as Maybach.
The scene was amazing! The way the ocean smelled kind of like an empty can of tuna with, like, a tiny hint of that hatchet body spray was the best smelling thing ever. Gwen and I took pictures of everything, from the dudes to the chicks, the grams and gramps walking with their canes and holding hands, and the kids looking all brown and cute in their bathing suits! And when we caught the whiff of hot dogs and pickles, we knew this was where we were meant to be!
We rented out this tiny motel room that was in an area that's huge on Facebook, and quickly busted to the beach. I'd already gotten my Mystic done but Gwen was still as white as good milk.
"Do you think my bikini's too revealing?" she asked when she came out of the bathroom.
Yeah. It was revealing. The top was like two blister band-aids held together with shoelaces, but her tits were tiny so it was alright because you only caught a peek of the brown frown.
"Nah. Just wear that cover-up your mom gave you. And what's with the tape?" I asked, seeing the white strips of electrical tape she'd stuck to her belly.
"Oh, I saw it on youtube. You tape your name or something on your skin before you tan, and then when you take it off, that part's lighter so it looks like you got a tattoo! They call it tan-tooing or something. Isn't it awesome?"
My head dropped to the side as I read what she'd taped. "Why didn't you put Gwen?"
She looked down, embarrassed. "Oh-muh-gaw, I used my real name, didn't I?" Red-faced, she began to peel away the tape, her eyes squinting in pain. "I keep forgetting that I'm going by Gwen now. I've gone by Snooki for so long that it's kinda hard to forget, you know?"
I nodded and patted my hair, making sure that I had teased it to just the right height. "Yeah, I'd'a probably killed my mom if she'd named me Snooki."
"Okay; forget the tape. Let's go meet some dudes!"
The dudes. That was why we were here. Love could be found anywhere. Guys could be found anywhere. Sex could be found anywhere.
But only at the Shore could you find "dudes". Those bronze gods with hair that could withstand any hurricane, voices that made you capable of drinking an entire case of wine coolers and not want to stop, and bodies that were meant to be exposed in awesomely cut shirts and shorts.
I was looking for my dude. He was here for me, that muscled mass of man meat that would take me higher than even aqua net ever could. When we saw each other, we'd know. It would be instantaneous; we'd get that feeling that was kind of like eating a bad hot dog and drinking a gallon of Red Bull in under five minutes, but less gassy.
It would be for real. It would be for keeps. It would be...for shore.
Congratulations, SharonBallBearings, you won a whole box of books from Gawker HQ! (Email me to redeem your prize.) Don't be surprised if Snooki gets in touch about a ghostwriting gig. And thanks once again to everyone who participated!