I think you see more of like, the party side of me, which I call Snooki, it's kind of my alter ego.
Snooki is really beautiful and looks quite like Elizabeth Taylor in 'Cleopatra.' She has the same bone structure. I'm kind of obsessed with 'Jersey Shore.' People don't give them enough credit for how entertaining they are.
My parents are more likely to know who Franz Liszt is than Snooki.
My fear is that, had I stayed in Jersey, I would have become Snooki because I'm just a bottle of hair dye away.
Snooki and Honey Boo Boo. These are big celebrities in the U.S. You want to throw up.
The idea of some kind of objectively constant, universal literary value is seductive. It feels real. It feels like a stone cold fact that In Search of Lost Time, by Marcel Proust, is better than A Shore Thing, by Snooki. And it may be; Snooki definitely has more one-star reviews on Amazon. But if literary value is real, no one seems to be able to locate it or define it very well. We're increasingly adrift in a grey void of aesthetic relativism.
Snooki is now a published author. I'm blaming Sarah Palin. She lowered the bar.
Snooki is a bestselling author? Huh? What? I don't know if I should dumb down my book, shoot myself or find a publisher who'll settle for a rough draft written on a Pop-Tart and a coconut lotion handie.
One of the jobs of a writer is to add nuance and ambiguity to that straight line that people often draw to very specific kinds of heroism. Most of us don't get to be Snooki. For most of us heroism has to be in our everyday lives.
I like to watch MTV for escapist pleasure, but when I saw Snooki, I saw my twin. I couldn't lose myself in the show anymore because there I was.
I love Snooki. She's a pickle sucker!
or simply: