We see them everyday; Stella in one hand, baby in the other, baby daddy at Jobseekers, so why are we all so shocked when we hear that the ‘former’ party girl Snooki is shacked up and preggers?
Where I live, it’s unnatural to drive down the main road and not see the tracksuit-bearing mummies, huddled around crushed cans at 3pm, guffawing at us crazy people who drive to work, suits on, stiff faces as we prepare for the 9-5 ahead. They’re everywhere, like lice, or the crumbly bits off Curly-Wurlies, but are unavoidable wherever you go, nonetheless. The only difference between them and Snooki is that she has far more money to flush down the drain and piss on, probably on designer baby tracksuits and Don Perignon for her first drink after she’s sprouted this thing from her ovaries. I can see the headline now, ‘Snooki: the first woman to do bodyshots during afterbirth’.
I think probably the only way to depict this monstrous thing (I mean, ‘Snooki’) in its most natural of states is the picture of her pushing a pram, loaded with cases of Coors Light – a fine embodiment of her take on motherhood, cheers to that Snooki!
Of course, this picture alone has raised debate about whether she is a worthy mother, whether she will be able to give up all the partying and think about something else apart from how good she thinks her arse looks in booty shorts. Debatable, to say the least. And ‘not very good’ is the answer, love.
Let’s just hope that she can hang up her heels and understands that baby bottles, whilst they may be the ideal size, should not be used to shot vodka. I just pray to God that there isn’t a spin-off reality show about Snooki and Jionni’s new horrific ‘family life’. Pass us a shot, Snooks, I need something to numb the bloody thought.