Can New Jersey just file for separation from the fools who keep representing it on TV?
The poor Garden State — which has been in steady loop of "we're not that bad" since The Sopranos — took it to the face again last night with the debut of VH1's My Big Friggin' Wedding, a trashtastic celebration of the over-tanned Ed Hardy set. Imagine Jersey Shore with way less smooshing and more reasons for statewide shame. Only this time, the offending residents aren't sharing a house, they're taking a spouse.
Following the most-likely doomed romances of five altar-bound Jersey-based couples, Big Friggin' shares DNA with Jersey Shore (both are produced by SallyAnn Salsano), but ultimately fails to reach the already low "guilty pleasure" bar set by Snooki and company. Sure, there's Megin, the uber-classy expectant bride-to-be ("I need ta pop da kid out before da weddin'"), romantic Tyler ("I'm excited about the wedding cuz the wild party afterward"), tanorexic twosome Joey and Sandra, and the state-law required hairdresser Tammie ("I wanted to make money and tawk awl the time"), but at this point, we're laughing at them, not with them, and kind of dying inside for them at the same time. Honestly, there is nothing fun about pretty-boy Matt's mother, smoldering Carlton in hand, tearing down her son for being unorganized. And don't even get us started on the tragedy of Tammie thinking she's "multi-cultured" now that she is marrying a Haitian. It's like she don't know, you know?
With the stereotypes turned up to a deafening level and the simpleton couples barely giving us something to stand up for, we can't imagine Wedding being followed by much of a reception. However, there is no accounting for taste (case in point: Joey's all-black tuxedo choice), so we'd love to hear what you think. Was this Friggin' hilarious or just a Big 'ol mess?