We have no lust for Snooki from Jersey Shore. Zero. Zilch. It’s negative lust. She makes our collective penii shrink up into our thoracic cavities like a survival-minded turtle backing down from a hungry badger. Yet, there’s the Renee factor. Renee is my French Canadian cheese guy. Renee loves Snooki. I love Renee’s cheese. I love it cheap. Therefore, behold, the wardrobe malfunction and the bare boob of this Jersey-transplanted gobbler gnome.
Did I just force you to view Snooki’s titty for a deep discount on a block of Gruyere? I did. I’m so ashamed.