Snooki Signs Autographs At The Mall
When Slutty Gay Friend informed me that Snooki had developed her own line of sunglasses, it was all I could do not to laugh until I soiled my panties. Just for the record, Snooki has developed only two things in her life – lopsided breasts and a bad case of pubic mites. So do not tell me that she developed her own line of sunglasses! That shit is about as legitimate as Baba Yaga’s vagina.
Anyway, speaking of those fucking sunglasses, Snooki was at the Staten Island Mall this weekend, signing autographs and posing for pictures. And for those of you who are curious, here is what went down at the signing:
Snooki sits at a wooden table, eating a breakfast burrito and signing an autograph for a trembling fan. When Snooki finishes, she burps loudly and hands the piece of paper to the fan.
“Oh my God, thank you so much!” the fan squeals, gazing with stunned delight at her autograph. “Oh my goodness! This has been the best day of my l – ”
“Wait a second,” Snooki says, gesturing for him to hand the autograph back. “I forgot to put the stamp of authenticity on it.”
With a bewildered expression on his face, the fan hands her the piece of paper. Snooki stands up, lowers her panties, and wipes her ass with it. “There,” she says, handing it back to him. “Now it’s all legitimized. NEXT!”
The next fan bounds forward, a look of wild adulation in her eyes. “Oh, Miss Swamp Midget!” the fan gushes. “I can’t believe this is actually happeni – ”
“Yeah, hold on a second. JEROME!” Snooki bellows. “JEROME, WHERE THE FUCK IS MY ASS LOTION?”
“Coming!” squeaks a harried young man, rushing over with a bottle of rash cream. “Coming right up, Miss Swamp Midget! Here we go! Fresh out of the refrigerator!”
“It’s about fucking time,” Snooki says, dropping her panties and bending over the table. “And make sure you rub some cream in between my ass cheeks. I’m feeling a little raw this morning.”
With a quiet sob, Jerome squirts a dollop of lotion onto his palm and rubs his hands together.
“Now, where were we?” Snooki asks, turning back to her fan. “Did you want me to sign something?”
“Yes!” squeaks the excited fan, holding out a ripped menstrual pad. “I found this in the dumpster outside!”
“All right, give it here.” Snooki snatches the menstrual pad and takes out a marker. “What’s your name?”
“No, I don’t like that,” Snooki says. “You look like a ‘Penis Wrinkle’ to me.”
“But that’s not my – ”
“Shut up!” Snooki yells, farting in agitation. “Oops,” she says, turning around and looking at Jerome, whose face is now covered in rash cream. “Goddammit, Jerome! Go get the hose! You are holding up the whole fucking line, you whore!”