#;; rager is a good boy deep in his core

[ryanlockheart]

there was something innate about sydney's desire to pleasure maddox. just seeing him strut into the sigma chi house with enough confidence to power a small town had awoken something deep inside of sydney. he was quite simply the man of his dreams, and he wasn't going to let him get away. "perhaps, but i'm sure you knew i'd be a slut the second you saw me, didn't you?" sydney answered, cocking up a brow. he knew he was a little bit out of the ordinary for the typical frat bro. he was fiery, a bit sassy, but still submissive at the same time. maddox brought out all those sides of himself that he had to hide away, to suppress in a bid to fit in around the frat house. "i know you're gonna love it too, daddy. you're gonna be so proud of your little slut, taking all those cocks and cleaning all those sweaty feet. i just know it'll make you cum harder than you ever have before — and it's gonna land right on my face where it belongs. can't let 'em forget who i belong to," sydney went on, a lusty sparkle glinting in his emerald eyes. at his core, the older boy knew he wanted more than just sex-filled ragers... and sydney knew he'd get them from maddox. he'd have nights cuddled up against each other, romantic candle-lit dinners, afternoons spent just watching mindless tv nestled up against each other. of course, they'd have the raunchy nights filled with nothing but filth, but there was something more between them. "i don't care if you want to stuff me full of cock until i can't fuckin' take it anymore... i don't care who's touching me — as long as you say it's okay. i love bein' a slut, but i love bein' your slut most of all. might love taking cock like it's nothing, but no one can compare to what you're packin', daddy," sydney agreed with an eager nod. every thought he had about maddox was just confirmed the more they went on. he was the luckiest person in the world when that surefire freshman had came into his life. "no one else i'd want either. i was meant to be yours, daddy. meant to be your good girl and your filthy little whore. i can be whatever you need, mads... and that's why you picked me," sydney hummed. "that, and my fat ass. could put anyone, boy or girl, to shame." he giggled a little bit to himself. he knew he was bringing out something new in maddox. he didn't know his story completely, but sydney could tell this was something new for him, even if he was acting like a complete natural. sydney was in the same boat. "already know me so well, daddy. no one could ever treat me as good as you do. proud to be your slutty little princess," sydney cooed, his pale cheeks turning a light shade of pink. if everyone else in the room suddenly disappeared, sydney would be more than happy for maddox to have him all to himself. if maddox asked him to only touch him, sydney would've gladly. his world revolved around the younger male, and no one else. that they dabbled with other people was just an added bonus. "you're perfect, daddy. you're all i could ever ask for... and just know, when it's all said and done, i'm gonna take you out on a date, and you're gonna come back to my room... and i'm gonna be all yours — and trust me, i'm gonna wear you out."

"i can't waiting to get you goonin', daddy. my feet are gonna be your favorite thing. 'm gonna milk so many loads outta you with 'em... but just wait 'cause after you fuck my feet, i'm gonna be the biggest fuckin' whore you've ever seen, and i'm gonna hop on your cock and ride it 'til you can't cum anymore," sydney went on. "but that's not all. 'm gonna shove my sweaty sock in your mouth and let you huff on the other one. you're gonna be in gooner heaven, aren'tcha, daddy?" he smirked happily to himself. he loved the number he was doing on maddox. he knew that he could get anything he wanted with just a blink of his eyes or a small pout. maddox would never be able to say no to him. "i'm gonna take every last drop of piss, and 'm gonna clean every sweaty foot... but 'm gonna save the best for you, daddy. i won't let 'em wear me out 'cause i'm gonna wear you out when i'm done out here," sydney promised. they were both a mess for each other, but neither could quite help it. he was going to satisfy all of maddox's little friends, but the real showstopper would come out when he was nestled behind four walls with only maddox. he was going to save the best for maddox. he needed to impress him, and that was exactly what he was going to do. "maybe. if he's ugly, no... but if he looks like he could be a little fun for us, i'd pout my lips and bat my lashes and whisper in your ear," sydney went on. "you'd whip out that camera so fast. you'd probably get hard from just me begging... 'cause i know no matter what i say, you can't say no to me. if i asked you right now to get my feet in your face while your friends take a leak on me, you'd get down on your knees and sniff 'em... 'cause i might be your little princess, daddy, but i've got you wrapped around my finger too." the circle around him got tighter, and sydney could just take it all in. he breathed in all the musk radiated off of them, watching them silently as their hands stroked their cocks. pre-cum was smeared onto his face, but he didn't care. if anything, it just made him feel more powerful. even down lapping at the two freshman's feet, sydney felt like he was floating on cloud nine. even more so when maddox got all jealous. it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. his cock twitched as maddox got up from his spot on the couch. benji was long forgotten about, sydney's tongue hung out of his mouth as his gaze watched maddox. "n-no, daddy," sydney said softly. he looked up at the younger male through his lashes, pulling out his puppy dog eyes. "was just trying to show him a good time like you asked, daddy." he absolutely was feigning innocence; he knew exactly what he was up to. he laid back onto the coffee table, his long, lithe legs spread up in the air. "please, daddy. touch your baby girl. fuck me 'til i can't see straight... show these boys who owns this pussy. put me to good use, daddy. pretty please."

maddox might have been young, and a little naive, but something told him that he was right about sydney. the moment he laid eyes on the older boy, a flame was lit in the pit of his stomach. he was eager to get his hands all over sydney, but he played the waiting game. he set the trap, and thankfully sydney fell right into it. "you have a point, but i needed to see how bad you wanted it. i believe it would be frowned upon to walk right up to a senior and say, 'hey, i wanna turn you into a slut,' right?" maddox replied teasingly. he already knew that sydney wasn't like the mild-mannered, soft-spoken southern belles he was used to, but he wasn't one to back down from a challenge. if there was anyone who could keep up with sydney, anyone who could handle his brazen personality and unmatched sexual libido, it was going to be maddox. "i already know you're going to love it, angel... all those sweaty jocks with their big cocks hard just for you? those sweaty feet, fresh from the field, for you to worship? it'll be like christmas to you, and daddy is gonna enjoy every second of it. i can't wait to watch you be a good girl for the team," maddox agreed. things were moving at rapid speed, but maddox wouldn't have preferred it any other way. he'd waited years to express himself so freely, to rid himself of his father's expectations and any other restraints holding him back. as it turned out, all it took was a little attention from sydney. "you're such a little slut, and i fuckin' love it. you love cock so much, you're ready to take anyone's load as long as daddy gives you the okay. i'm gonna have your pretty little face shoved in my sweaty nuts while random guys line up in the restroom to pound that little pussy," maddox said, lips curled into a smirk. no one would get to touch sydney without his permission, but maddox was more than willing to share every now and then. as long as his princess was happy, then so was he. "i don't think i won the lottery, 'cause that implies luck. this shit was meant to be, and i think you know that, princess... no one else here could get you like this, ready to take every cock in the room just to prove that you're the sluttiest girl i could ask for," maddox replied. he never thought he would be capable of making someone like sydney so desperate and pliant, but he was learning more about himself than he ever thought possible. sydney was exposing a brand new side of maddox, and he was merely along for the ride. it was sydney greene's world, and maddox just felt lucky to be living in it. "that's why you're such a good girl, baby — and that's why 'm gonna keep you happy, give you all the thick cock and sweaty feet a slut like you could ask for," maddox promised, stroking the boy's cheek gently. he was so smitten with sydney that he almost didn't feel like himself, but it was exactly what he needed. "daddy's gonna give you everything you want, no matter what it is. if you wanna get pounded out by daddy's friends, the whole soccer team, or total strangers at some club, all you have to do is ask. but if you want me to take you upstairs, lock the door, and show you how special and perfect you are, i'm here for that too. i'm gonna be everything you need, sweetheart."

"fuck, princess... that's exactly what i want. i need those filthy, sweaty feet all over my face, working my cock 'til i'm gooning and my eyes are rolling back. i don't wanna be able to think about anything but your feet," maddox gushed, his cock twitching in his jeans. "daddy wants you to be everything you want to be tonight, princess. every filthy little thing that's crossed your mind, i want you to do it. no questions asked. if you wanna suck every cock in this fucking room, i'll let you. if you want me to pound you while the guys make you worship their feet or guzzle their piss, that's whats going to happen. but when i get you upstairs, it's gonna be just me and those pretty feet, alright? work up a sweat, and get ready to turn your daddy into a perverted fuckin' gooner. you've got a whole lot more ahead of you." maddox wasn't normally so talkative, but something about sydney had him chatting up a storm. he could hardly believe how many thoughts were racing through his head, or how easily he was able to express them. sydney made everything easier — and, of course, hotter. "and what is your definition of nice, princess? if a guy walks up and tells you how fat your ass is, or how pretty you looked drinking all that piss, what are you gonna do? tug on daddy's sleeve, give him the puppy eyes, and hope he says yes?" maddox asked teasingly. "you know i'll say yes, but it'd be cute to see you beg for it. i might even film it, too. show everyone that you're willing to take cock from randos as long as you got daddy's cock down your throat." just as he'd expected, sydney had the attention of every guy in the room. well, except for the select few who's eyes were fixed on maddox — not that he would even notice. "you hear that, boys? he wants your cocks, your piss, your filthy feet, your sweaty holes... are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna give him what he wants? he asked nicely, so either get in line, or get the fuck out," maddox instructed. the circle of freshman closed in, and sydney could no doubt feel them. he was surrounded by so many thick cocks and bulging muscles, maddox wouldn't have blamed him if he picked the biggest one and wrapped his lips around it. boys who's names maddox didn't even know were slapping their cocks against the pretty boy's face, smearing their pre-cum on his cheeks as they anxiously awaited their turn. maddox was distracted by the eager way sydney lapped up his own seed, mixed with a bit of sweat from his and benji's feet. that was, until sydney was paying a little more attention to benji's. "oh fuck, sydney... ace... i'm gonna..." benji huffed, busting his second load down ace's throat as his cheeks flushed bright red. benji wasn't the only one with a red face, however. "you were, 'til now," maddox said, pulling his foot away from the older boy. "should i leave, princess? let you have your fun with benji's feet, since mine weren't doin' it for you?" was he actually jealous? yes. was he also playing along with sydney's little game? absolutely. "i want you in the middle of the room, on your back, legs spread. now," maddox instructed, raising from his seat to walk around the coffee table. "if you want daddy's cock, and you want to keep having your fun with all these sweaty fuckin' freshman, you're gonna do as i say, aren't you? otherwise, i'll go back up to my room and lock the door. is that what you want?"

[bcnezone]

Watch your massive canine partner fend off anything and everything by sheer intimidation alone, anger exuding from his body in an aura of Divine Hate. Powerful muscles rippling with effort, cracking men in two, eviscerating the mightiest of monsters, and even bringing the very gods to their knees. 

But also laying gently on his fluffy chest, snuggling into the soft comfort and security of his arms, knowing there’s nothing in the world that could get to you. 

[aliendancemusic-blog]

Eyes of Light

Dear Good Netizen:

The music blares, heavy beats sending vibrations through my sweaty body.  It’s dark, and I’m surrounded by mostly strangers. The few friends I dragged with me have long gone.  There’s some recognizable faces here and there – party friends, I say– or those souls who you wouldn’t recognize in daylight.  Red cups sprout everywhere around the empty bottles like a fresh growth of those mushrooms from Mario Kart.   My nose then twitches, and I smell the clouds of thick smoke wafting through the room like a silent specter, sticky yet sweet.  

This is the shit we live for, I think.

“Hey – is everything ok?” says a voice.

I look up to meet the droopy gaze of an acquaintance named Alex, the one playing host tonight.

“Hey yea I’m fine – just a little tiered all of a sudden”.

“Sacrilege! We need to turn up! As the host I insist you come into the lion’s den”

“I guess some goodies would be welcome”.

Twenty minutes later I return from Alex’s room to the swingin’ party.  I twist and turn to the music mindlessly, trying to shake off the looming guilt of my decisions. I feel ready to leave yet embarrassed at the prospect of doing so alone.  Eventually I find my way back to the living room couch for a breather next to a girl passed out on her friend.  

I turn to my right upon hearing the sound of a bottle dropping, and that’s when I see him.  Lounging by the liquor table, tall and slim, stands the most beautiful boy I have ever seen.  He is alone, sipping from a red cup gingerly with his lips pursed, observing the crowd.  His hair is wavy and slicked back near shoulder length, black as a raven’s and soft as downy.  With pale skin, he does not look sickly, but glowing in the hazy room.  My stomach clenches upon finally beholding his eyes.  

It can’t be … must be a trick of the light.

Doubtful, I peer closer.  

Well yes, I muse, they are indeed real … shit.

Like a pair of fresh ink dots, the boy’s irises are completely black.  Rather than looking eerie and cold as one would assume, they sparkle in the dark room, like two beacons of extraordinary in a sea of ordinary.  

They flicker to my direction.  

I jerk my head immediately the other way, feeling flushed and childish.  

He noticed me … no – he can’t have.  I’m far too ordinary.

I turn my head slowly back, trying to look inconspicuous.  

Instead I jump in fright, knocking a red cup out of one girl’s hand, for the beautiful boy has suddenly found the seat right next to me.

“Hello,” he coos, his voice intoxicatingly raspy.

“Um – hi … what’s good”.

“Well … nothing at this party, I suppose”.

“Yea – I’m kinda over it too”.

We connect eyes.  

Holy shit.

Staring into the boy’s eyes I see only swirling wisps and twinkling lights in the place of pupils.  I blink, yet they remain the same.  I can’t help but continue to stare deeper and deeper into them, feeling myself floating in a sea of clouds, weightless.  

“Would you care for some fresh air?” asks the boy, shattering my gaze.  

Flustered, I nod, not even aware of what I’m agreeing to.

The boy leads me through the sea of people and out an open door into a humid, summer night.  A deck creaks beneath my sneakers.  I feel the sweat begin to prickle on my skin already, like stepping into fresh morning dew.  The boy stops beneath the foliage of a large apple tree, caressing one of its mid-blossom buds.  Surrounding him are the intermittent flashes of fireflies, like flickering candles in the night.

“I love fresh apples,” says the boy, turning to face me.

He reaches out a delicate hand to reveal one bright red apple, as if it were spring rather than summer.  I stare at the apple, more luminescent in the low glow of the outdoor lights.  

I guess I have the munchies, I think, already decided.

I then reach out to grab the apple, my tongue salivating.

“Ahh ah – I didn’t say this was for your consumption”, the boy breathes, a smile flashing briefly across his chiseled face.  

“Didn’t you ever learn how to share?”

“Hmm -  you know the ancients used to believe apples contained the secret to immortality – one bite of an apple on a full moon’s night and poof!  You can live forever”.

I gaze up at the night sky.  A full moon is out with not a cloud in sight, floating lazily like an anchored ship at port.  I snort in derision.

“Is that the line you use on everyone?  And no – I have never heard that before”.

The boy, seemingly ignoring me, then bites into the apple.  Fresh juice glistens on his pouty lips, but does not drip down to his chin.  

I shiver, despite the heat.

“I guess the sheep weren’t that great of teachers”, he says between munching teeth, “Now … tell me – do you want a bite?”

“Sure, Adam”.

The boy chuckles, sending another shiver down my spine.  

“More like Snow White, but whatever tickles your fancy … here you go”.

He finally hands me the apple, brushing his fingers against mine.  When I grip the crimson fruit, I look up only to realize that I’m now below standing in front of the apple tree’s base.  

That’s strange - weren’t we just on the deck … or am I more fucked up than I thought?

“Is something weighing you down?” asks the boy, staring at me intently, “I promise I’m no rager danger”.

Calm down - the apple tree, yes – there was an apple tree before.

“No it – it’s fine … this apple looks really delicious.”

Closing my eyes, I plunge my teeth deep into the apple, biting down.  An immediate sensation of intermingling flavors collides with my taste buds.  I taste sweet honey and cinnamon, then a woody flavor that reminds me of walnuts, and finally fresh lavender.  Savoring the moment of sensory bliss for one second longer, I slowly open my eyes.

Gone is the apple tree and in its place stands an enormous elder tree.  Its dark berries look like red Christmas lights strung out in an irregular pattern.  Behind the dark elder tree sits a lagoon, bluebird in color and peppered with fairy moss patches.  I see fish jumping out of the water, sunlight reflecting off of their colorful scales (weird – last time I noticed it was nighttime) while dragonflies stream across the surface like bullets.  And there’s what I finally believe to be figures across the lagoon - or dancing shadows – but I can’t be sure.

“Where are we?” I mutter, covering my eyes from the bright sunlight, “It feels like there’s a solar flare here”.

“Where d’ya feel you currently are?” answers the boy, who is now at my side, holding my hand with the apple.

“Am I tripping right now?  Where the hell are we?”

“If it concerns your brain so, we are neither here nor there, and when certainly doesn’t beg the question”.

“Shit - I am tripping”.

“Whatever you wish to call it, tis fine by me. It has had many names over time. Call it Jupiter for all I care”.

I look closer at the boy, taking a slight step forward.  There is something subtly different about his appearance that (even beneath the sun) I can’t deduce.  His hair is the same, flowing like black silk, and his skin even more translucent in the light.  I can’t remember if he was wearing a black tunic before (were we at a toga party?) and barefoot.  However upon closer inspection, I am more perplexed by his ears, which I now notice come to a catlike point.  

“Are you an alien? You definitely are not ordinary”, I say.

The boy laughs, reaching out a hand to dip into the lagoon.

“Is there not something ordinary in being extraordinary?”

“Not really”.

“Then I guess you haven’t realized that there’s something extraordinary in the ordinary as well. Let’s just say it’s something electromagnetic”.

He cups a handful of water and downs it one, fluid gulp.  

“Take this water for example”, continues the boy, “It is much more than it seems.  Would you like a taste?”

“Water isn’t that extraordinary”.

“Just try it – you may I dare say just like it. Do you not trust me?”

The boy looks once more into my eyes.  When I blink, I’m leaning down next to the edge of the lush lagoon, my feet squelching next to a pair of blue water lilies.  

“Sure, why not” I respond, reaching out my hand to graze the surface.

I cup the water, crystal clear, in my clenched hands.  I then drink.  The liquid that rushes down my throat tastes nothing like any water I’ve ever consumed.  Tangy yet sweet, it reminds me of honeysuckle.  A soothing sensation of warmth shoots through my core, and I immediately want more.  

I cup another handful, gulping it down without hesitation.  

“This tastes amazing,” I whisper between handfuls, “I feel – I feel like I could swim across the entire lagoon a hundred times … like for … forever”.

“Oh that is very much a possibility, depending on your concept of time,” responds the boy, smiling.

“I feel fucking incredible.  How - how did I exist back home without this?”

“You can go back home, you know”, the boy responds.

I whip my head around, ready to chastise him for even suggesting such nonsense.  Instead I find myself transfixed as the boy reaches up to the elder tree branches and plucks a single berry.

“All you have to do,” he continues, “is eat one of these elder berries”.

“Well there is no way I want to go back to that party,” I insist, “Let alone my life. So what the hell …”

“And why is that?”

“Because I hate my life.  I hate my fake friends, I hate my bitch work job and – above all - I hate student loan debt.  Why would I ever want to leave this place?”

“I’m not telling you to leave, just simply informing you that you have a choice … your kind are fond of attachments and such, after all.  However also know this – if you do choose to go back, you may never return … as in forever - standard protocol, I guess”.

I stop gulping down the lagoon water momentarily, hung up on the boy’s words.  My mind flashes to the trivial and mundane moments of that day, the past week, the past month, the past year, and finally my entire life.  

I wonder …

Do I really want to return to the daily grind?

Do I really want to return to being a capitalist slave?

Do I really want to return to commitments and responsibilities?

“How much time do I have to decide?” I inquire, returning my attention to the boy.

Twirling the elder berry between his fingers, the boy does not meet my gaze.

“Well in a place where time does not exist, you amusingly have very little time at all … close your eyes and count to five – then you must decide”.

Blinking, I survey the lagoon one final time, committing every fantastical sight to memory.  

Then I close my eyes.

One.  

I remember the feeling of wind brushing against my cheek.

Two.

I remember the smell of brewing coffee in the morning.

Three.

I remember how it felt the first time I swam in the ocean.

Four.

I remember the excitement one feels upon meeting a new person, unexpectedly.

Five.

I open my eyes.

The boy is no longer standing in front of the elder tree.  I breathe in, looking left, and then right, yet he is nowhere in sight.   In fact, I cannot see much as it is now twilight.  Hanging in the sky are three moons – one crescent, one half, and one full – each increasing in size.  With the low visibility my ears begin to tune into eerie sounds that I cannot recognize – like a lyrical crying mixed with a slight electrical humming – which make the hairs on my arm prickle.  The only thing in direct sight that I can make out is the enormous elder tree.  

“Hello?”  I call.

I count to five again.

“Hello? “

Still nothing.  

I begin to feel sick as the boy’s voice replays in my mind:

“… all you have to do is eat one of these berries …”.

I hurriedly approach the elder tree.  On the ground resting upon a leaf is a single berry, as if on a platter.  I bend down to collect it.  Once in my hand, I pop the berry into my mouth without hesitation, and bite down.

Instinctively, my eyes shut in response to its bitter taste.  

When I reopen my two little eyes, it feels less dark than before.  Looking left again, and then right, I can see at first only stars.  They seem so close, almost tangible, like a sea of soap bubbles.  Looking down, I see by starlight that I am casually floating above the ground.  Directly below lies the thick foliage of what I believe to be a tree, beneath which I can hear chitter chatter.  I concentrate closer and recognize distinct patterns of speech.  Slowly the voices’ words reach me, at first only intermittent whispers.

“… the music was …”

“ … I’m starving …”

“ … nice teamwork … you sir are the king!”

“ … Where’s my crown then? They always fall for it – you know what I mean …”

“… hurry up, we don’t have all night – well actually – we do!  But all the same …”

I can sense the figures stop beneath the tree, and their voices lower to inaudible tones.  I try to move closer in order to see through the tree’s foliage, but I remain still.  Willing myself to move, I can feel nothing.  

I look down where I believe my feet to be and only see the outlines of leaves, twigs, and branches.  I look at where I believe my hands to be and see only stars.  I then search for my elbows, shoulders, neck, face, nose, mouth, and chest before – too scared to continue - allowing the world to dim.

The sensation of falling greets me like an old friend.  As I plummet, everything is pitch black, but I hear one voice clear as day.  The voice reminds me of someone I know, and so I concentrate with all of the being I have left, trying to make out the words.

“Another blackout … hurry up, we have a party to get back to …”

Stay Trippy, Treille #ALIENDANCEMUSIC

P.S. *deep breath* Do re mi fa sol la tiiiiiii

P.S.S. Play nice, the aliens are watching. Also check out the accompanying LP4 here: http://bit.ly/EyesoflightLP4

[schlockvalue-blog]

Schlock Value, Issue #2: Jersey Shore Shark Attack (2012)

Step over Speilberg and fuck off Jaws, your shit may be all classic and shit but bro, it ain’t got the abs this bitch is packin’.

An underwater mining exercise sends shockwaves through the water and calling a bunch of red eyed albino sharks of constantly changing design out of a cave barely dick deep in the waters off the coast of Jersey Shore, calling out like a proud stay at home mom that dinner’s ready, and Italian and silicon is on the menu.

This shit kicks off with as much patience as the cast has for keeping their shirts on — introducing the lip pouting cast with not a shred of subtlety. Winks and nudges all around as the filmmakers elbow you in the ribs for the next fifteen minutes, proudly spouting quick “Aye? Aaaaaye?” The lead Gueidette of this motley crew rocking up early with a license plate reading “Nooki”. Subtle is hardly the name of the game though, it’s all on display — literally — as the dude are muscle bound and the chicks ‘muscles’ less bound…“Aye? Aaaaaye?”.

Nooki kicks off confronting her skeezing ex-boi, “The Complication” (Aaaaaye?) the night after what this white suburban boy can only assume was a maaaaan rager bro. Red cups ahoy. Setting up a Boiz vs Bitches dynamic that spans most of the film. The Complication and his boiz Donnie and Balzac just want to enjoy waxing each other up, flexing all day and solving their need for some “serious A.S.S.: Alcohol, Sun, and Sex”. A noble venture. God speed boiz. The babes on the other hands are all about gettin’ their independent girl power on, proving they don’t need no man. Jersey Shore Shark Attack, tackling the big issues. Herein lies one massive fucking fuck up of the film. Not a single one of the Jersey Shore ripoff characters gets turned into chum by the horde of sharks turning their shore into a buffet. Let’s just rip that bandaid off early. See now, who the fuck is watching this not hoping to tune in and see Guido mince meat sprayed across their screen? The film makes a blatant attempt to humanise the meathead parade that makes up the cast of characters so I guess it’s aiming for cinema loving Guids out there (is that an actual thing?) but it’s also so incredibly obvious that it’s a piss take at the same time, poking fun at every aspect of Guido party life that its real life, shark-less) TV counterpart that you’d think it was giving every hater of the show their dream of seeing a Snooki wannabe get ripped apart from ass to the tip of her overly styled hairdo. Dear movie, MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND! This isn’t “The Misunderstood Souls of The Jersey Shore: A Lifetime Channel Special Edition” it’s JERSEY FUCKING SHORE SHARK ATTACK. Get with the program. Gimme silicon tits flying left right and centre! Is that too much to ask for?

Apparently so.

The shark attack portion of the title ain’t left for late though (thank fucking christ) as possibly the only pale skinned Italian in the entire cast — clearly some dude with a bad accent, a wife beater, slicked hair and given a cigarillo for a prop to complete the flawless and totally convincing transformation — gets offedby the freshly uncaved albino snappers while fishing in a dingy maybe two meters from the shore in. Why the asshole needed to be in a boat is a question for the screenwriter (I’m sure it had nothing to do with plot convenience).

The whole beach is going off in preparation for the arrival of the films token…*ahem*…‘celebrity’ cameo — former NSYC ‘not Justin Timberlake, one of the other guys’ guy, Joey Fatone. An excitement you better get used too because the film crams itself every ten minutes with a quick reminder in case you forgot you bought it in at least partial hope of seeing the NSYC alumni get his ass chomped by a bad CGI shark at some point. Spoiler alert, he does, almost immediately after being introduced (late) in the film. So we might not get Snooki or any of the 28 collective abs in the film gets chomped, we at least get that. Gee golly gosh.

The film spends a large portion of its early part half occupied with what it assumes is a ‘story’, trading blood and guts for a power struggle between the ever partying Guids and the sweater vest wearing, double collar popping, four syllable speaking, private school yacht club douches across the way. I swear, if Jersey Shore Shark Attack weren’t one of the best titles you could ever see staring back at you; in some distribution house somewhere out there, someone would have suggested releasing the film under the title of Guido’s vs Yuppies vs Sharks…not bad…I might have to copyright that. The good guys look like the musclebound bro bad guys from any other film and the bad guys are portrayed as assholes because they don’t want to listen to club music every second of the day. So, again, who the fuck is this thing supposed to be for? Cause I’m on Team Shark here. It’s hard to get behind walking wannabe cannon fodder with single digit IQs who use words like “drowneded”. You’ll be praying the whole cast gets their arses ripped out their mouths the moment they step on screen, and that they take the script with them.

The battle of the sexes enters a ceasefire when one of the many disposable and interchangeable bronzer snuffing pieces of cannon fodder washes up on shore. In a feat of literary originality, the mayor refuses to shut down the beach and The Complication’s father — the local Sheriff — doesn’t believe his son, seeing his actions as further proof of his disappointment in life — gee, wonder if that’ll resolve itself by the end of the film. Subplot ahoy. It all leaves our main pack of Guidos to take it upon themselves to hunt down the pigment deprived sea evil using fireworks and protein bars as bait. They also try to steal one of the ‘bad guy’ yuppies yachts “because he’s a douche” before Balzac fumbles one of the fireworks and blows the whole thing up (tell me again why we’re supposed to like these guys?).

At its core Jersey Shore Shark Attack is a Guido love story with a mayoral conspiracy giving the old reach around and wrapped up in just enough shark attacks to give its title enough credence. Everyone’s more pre-occupied with their own shit and getting occasionally distracted by a corpse or two. The climax of the film only comes in the midst of the customary blood letting beach side massacre when the head of the Yacht club tries to pull one over on the Guids by seducing Nooki and convincing her to join him and the his botchi loving conga line of talking pastel sweaters on a yacht out at sea for a party. The Complication reaches his character arc and realises he loves her (oh and y’know, that they need to take care of the sharks once and for all) and rounds up the Ab Club, stealing another boat and heading out to play cockblock while armed to the teeth with automatic rifles (and, I assume, more protein bars. After all; “Nothing’s going to resist 25 grams of power packed peanut butter crunch.”)

They shoot, pout and even nose kick the sharks on their way to rescue the yuppies and Nooki onboard their boat — which, of course, is broken down out of phone reception range — before returning to shore to save everyone from the shark attack which apparently a trained police department could handle on their own. Not enough protein in their diet I suppose. It all ends with hugs, cheers of “GUIDOS! GUIDOS!”, mended father son relationships — even though The Complication is still no less a party and gym obsessed meathead who will never leave the Jersey Shore. But hey, he does make peace with the yuppies, even though they just tried to revenge bang his girlfriend and gave off the impression that there was a roofie or two in her future if Plan-A went sour. But hey, water under the bridge right?

Jersey Shore Shark Attack is about as intelligent a parody as the dense fuckers it’s populates itself with. Every ounce of self aware writing makes you wonder if they themselves got the joke because other than The Complication and Nooki, the rest of the characters assume the completely pointless position reserved for cannon fodder to give people expecting some kind of delivery on the title and yet not a single person you want to see die actually dies. Hell, only once is any of them vapid “wait, what’s her name again” characters in any peril. The only other time anything happens is when Nooki’s trapped in the sinking boat, with a shark ripping its way through the hull, at the end of the movie in a scene replicated in damn near every other shark movie ever made and trust me, you’re rooting for the shark to get just a liiiiiitle closer. Just one more inch. Just rip off a leg! Just one goddammit. ANYTHING!

Drunk with a group of friends and a shameless love of self flagellation and if nothing else you’ll probably get a kick out of screaming at the screen for everyone to die. *Sigh* the love of communal hatred.