Fango Mourns an Icon

In every generation, there comes along a character that, for one reason or another, rings truer than any other. For me that character was Richard “Boner” Stabone. Before I proceed with my final thoughts, I must first fill in some of my background to convey just how personal this loss felt.

As a teen, Lil’ Fang dabbled a bit in the show biz. Between the ages of 11 and 15, I booked several jobs on my native Long Island - first in print, as the adolescent Eastern region rep for Zubaz, then transitioning into a lucrative Kids R’ Us modeling career. As my endeavors progressed, I found that it was time to take a step closer to my dreams. So I began auditioning for film and TV.

I booked several things including a commercial spot for Sheepshead Bay’s own Randazzo’s Clam Bar and “Pizza Eater Number 4” in the pilot episode of Who’s the Boss. I was making the big time. I knew I had the goods when Tony Danza himself told my agent, “That kid’s sitting in my chair.” I thought with any luck – I soon would be, Tony. Then I met Andrew Koenig.

You see, Andrew and I were both up for Boner. I don’t like to talk much about it because it marks the greatest failure of my life. After my agent got me an audition, I spent weeks prepping. When the sides came in the mail, I slept, drank, and ate Boner. I didn’t know what method acting was at the time but, looking back now, I see that I allowed this role to take over my life.

When it came time to board the plane to L.A. I felt this part was mine to lose.
After an arduous audition and several call-backs, it came down to me and Andrew. Because the casting agents were so torn, they suggested that we audition in the same room, back to back. I went first. I nailed it. I was already getting excited at the prospect of lapping up Kirk Cameron’s leftover beaver. Then it was Andrew’s turn. After a minute or so into the audition, I felt jealousy turn to awe. This part was tailor made for me, and I watched this kid come in and play Boner like a Stradivarius. I went white and they went with Andrew. I discovered later that this had been Andrew’s first call back. It was my 6th. I never acted again.

Many actors have suffered from playing a part too well and simply setting the bar to unattainable heights. The result? A cross to bear for the duration of one’s career. I believe that to be Andrew’s curse. He simply was too good at Boner.

In this time of grief, I laud Andrew’s theatrical turn as Richard ‘Boner’ Stabone to be an achievement that far surpasses any in recent memory. Forgive me for personalizing Andrew’s passing for, with Andrew, died Boner and a part of the Fang’s youth with him. Rest in peace, sweet Boner.

Fango Watchin' Stuff: A Farewell to Tards - Jersey Shore

The curtain is set to close on the cultural clusterfuck that was MTV’s Jersey Shore. I for one, as a positive Italian American Icon of sorts, feel both a swell of pride as well as anger as I gutted out the final episodes as startling details about the cast were revealed, but I’ll get to that later. First let’s examine the highlights of this asshole casserole.

First, I would like to address the relationship between Ronnie and Sammi. I was sorely mistaken in an earlier post when I made my character assessment of Sammi as being the “patron saint” of the house. I have to blame my misfire on the boner I had when I saw her in a bikini during the intros, but I digress. This twat has done nothing but rattle Ronni’s already hyper-emotional, steroid infused psyche. All this dude wants to do is fight, fuck, or cry. The three things together is probably the most accurate representation of what culminates into his ideal sexual encounter. The last thing he needs is Sammi pouring gasoline on an already raging, roaring, roid inferno.

Sammi is a sourpuss of the very first order. The only thing that seems to bring even a glimmer of joy into her life is the misery of others, or more specifically, Ronnie. Even on the boardwalk when Ronni was walking away from that bald turd, she kept stirring the pot. Happy now Sammi? Your boyfriend clobbered a big mouth jabroni until Ronnie was almost too tired to run away from the cops. But somehow at the end of the night Ronnie begged her forgiveness.

Ronnie is not exonerated here. Three weeks in a house with Sammi and he’s shopping for promise rings? Let’s call this what it really is - territorial pissing between Mike “The Situation” and Ronnie. The exact same thing would have happened with J Woww had she been dubbed “the hottest girl in the house”. The two have been grunting at each other for Sammi’s affections since day one.

The thing that may have finally doomed this whirlwind affair for good happened on the reunion show when Ronnie was presented with an outtake that showed Sammi batting her spider leg lashes at “The Situation”. Judging from his reaction, Ronnie seemed well on his way to dropping Sammi like deuce in a boardwalk port-o-potty.

And now for one of the most egregious reality show misrepresentations of the past, oh say, 3 days. J Woww is not…are you ready for this? J Woww is not even Italian! She is nothing more than a scab in disguise. Us card carrying dagos have to stick together. If any of the other cast were worth their weight in cannoli, they would’ve blown the whistle on this balloon knockered fraud the minute they found out her last name was Farley. MTV executives should be ashamed of themselves for making a futile attempt at affirmative action. Outrageous. On second thought, the second W may be for Wannabe. Wannabe authentic Guidette. For shame, Jwoww.

I have to make another retraction, this time regarding Vinny. I was a little hard on the guy for clearly being the only dude in the house not jacked to the gills on steroids and for being about as interesting as a fart in the shower. He stepped up to the plate as a formidable foil to Mike “The Situation” by constantly threatening to bone Mike’s sister. His mother’s appearance also brought tears to the Fang’s eyes by bringing enough food to the house to feed a Shriner’s convention and cleaning the house from top to bottom. Some would argue that engaging in such obsessive behavior only keeps the mind busy enough to distract from fact that your son is a total douche bag, but suffice it to say, it made me want to call my mom.

And then there’s Snooki. She wound up the season much the same way she started – as a drunken sexual omnivore whose craving for attention is only surpassed by her appetite for booze. Still, I can’t help but feel a soft spot for her honest, unabashed sluttiness and her willingness to get her little ass kicked all over the place. She ended her tenure at the Jersey shore getting basted in the frothy filth of the house hot tub with “The Situation’s” tongue in her mouth.

With products already being marketed, including a weight loss supplement endorsed by J Woww called “Insane Liquid” and spinoffs undoubtedly in the works, I would like to take this opportunity to implore the TV execs at CNN to change their current wack-ass format for The Situation Room and replace Wolf Blitzer with Mike “The Situation”. That’s pretty much all you need – The Situation, a room, and a couple of broads. Have the ladies describe in sordid detail, the various ways in which Mike got creepy with them in a room. Maybe have DJ Pauly D holding down the wheels of steel a la Kid Capri during the hay day of Def Comedy Jam. I’m just sayin’ it would be a hit.

As the Fangman sat waiting for the final chapters of Jersey Shore play out, I couldn’t help but get a little misty knowing that I may not see chemistry like this until next season, when it is rumored that this exact same cast will get another crack at joining such other Italian American luminaries as Gotti, Stallone, and Danza in the hallowed annals of Italian American history. But for now, the curtain is closed and we must find a new way of dealing with winter ennui. For me, it’s late January - time to get my base on for the upcoming beach season. See you on the Shore.

Fango Watchin’ Stuff: Jersey Shore

Ok, you all knew this was coming. Finally, a series that speaks to the Fang. Ah, to be young again. Frankly, I’m surprised that it took MTV this long to figure out the perfect storm for what the network routinely toils in – youth, self indulgence, sex, fighting (both verbal and fisticuffs), and the holy grail of reality TV, the walk-off – look no further than where yours truly spends his summers, the Jersey Shore.

The formula is simple: take a couple of Guidos and Guidettes and stuck ‘em in house and give them all jobs at a t-shirt store the size of a sweat shop in Indonesia. “What do I have to do to get you in a ‘MILF Hunter’ shirt today, sir?”

Let’s start with the broads - Angelina, from Staten Island, NY. This sassy, in your face, tart with diarrhea of the mouth got her guinea ass tossed before I even knew her name for sure, already delivering on the aforementioned walk-off.

J-Woww the second w is apparently for whore because somewhere in the second episode, she cheats on her boyfriend and gives a weepy repent into the ass of a duck (for some reason the lone phone in the apartment is shaped like a duck. It took these ding-dings half an hour for them to figure out that it was a phone).

If there was to be a patron saint of the house, it may have to be Sammy “Sweethart”, the house poet laureate who only muses on the positive side of things and breaks hearts like she breaks acrylic nails opening beer cans.

Finally there’s my favorite, Nicole, otherwise known as “Snooki”. Her life’s pursuit is to find the Guido of her dreams and she goes from gym to gym stalking her prey like a hungry, feral cat may stalk a discarded piece of rotisserie chicken. She has also been the attention of some national news because she decided to get into the face of the wrong douche bag gym teacher.

Now for the dudes – We’ll start with DJ Pauly D. Perhaps the finest example of a “blow-out” haircut on the Eastern Seaboard sits atop Pauly’s head. Pauly is the house artist and his wheels of steel and accompanying equipment are a monument to Italian nationalism – the flag is on every piece of equipment he owns. God bless you, Pauly.

Then there’s Ronnie. This juice head lost his neck sometime back in the early 2000s but he may have the most sound philosophy of any one member in the house, “don’t fall in love on the Jersey Shore.” He should heed his own advice because he can’t stop himself from putting his dick all over Sammy. This romance may be doomed but this hopeless romantic listens to his steroid addled heart.

Vinny calls himself a natural entertainer and a mamma’s boy. I personally think he’s on the show because they needed a Vinny. He has yet to do anything interesting except for trying to bone his boss’s wife.

And finally there’s my favorite, Mike, “The Situation”. Ok, Mike, I know I’ve only watched a few episodes but it seems that the only “Situation” you seem to be getting yourself in involves only almost getting laid. Even when you had Snooki in the hot tub and she was screaming “fuck me in the fucking ass!” at the top of her lungs into a bottle of Brut, you failed to seal the deal.

With the season fairly young, I look forward to watching the rest of the series with my own hopes for each one of these complex characters. From when the taxi picks “The Situation” up for his weekly visit to the VD clinic to when Snooki gets popped in the face by a fat chick, I’ll be watching on the edge of my leopard print La-Z-Boy praying for God to make me fifteen years younger so I can audition to be part of next year’s cast.