Jersey

There aren’t any actual guidos (orange gorillas) from the Shore. If you see any at all, they’re fucking bennies from Staten Island. Most Jerseyans talk like Phillidelphians; only the far northern ones talk like New Yorkers. It’s Jur-zee, not Joisy, you little shit. We all do say “cawfee, tawk,” etc. And many say “worter” instead of “wadder”. We ARE the Garden State. Don’t be an ignorant prick and assume Jersey is full of smog and factories like Newark. The entire South and Central of Jersey are covered in forests, beaches, and farmland. Taste our tomatoes, corn, and cranberries. They’ll change you. Jersey drivers are used to jughandles, circles, and tons of exits. We can drive anywhere. You bet we will hunt you down and call you a “fucking motherfucker” if you cut us off. Shit’s expensive. A loaf of bread will cost your soul. We cry heavily-taxed tears. We find comfort in: the Shore, Six Flags Great Adventure, and pizza. On that note: Jersey pizza is the best pizza. In Seaside, slices are as big as your head (dead serious). Major fact about Central Jersey: PINEYS EVERYWHERE. Look them up. In short, they’re northern rednecks from the Pine Barrens. Porkroll, pizza, subs, bagels, Italian Ice, cheese steak, and coffee are the staples of our diet. WaWa is love. WaWa is life. A traditional, New Jersey only holiday: Mischief Night. The night before Halloween where we fuck up the town: slash all the tires, egg everything, and toilet paper all kinds of shit. Good times.