OH SNAP! We went to Wildwood while making the usual Jersey rounds and unearthed a small trove of comedic gold that we wish to share with you. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the pictorial menagerie that is about to enliven your life.

Its business as usual for the Jersey shore. After the monumental drive from one beach to another, the moment was utopian euphoria was bound to come - a survey glance of majestic Wildwood, New Jersey yields impressive thoughts and has even been proven to cure cancer. Where does one start with a place such as this? Why, with attractions of course!

I don’t know about the other couple of thousand people there that day, but we came to the utter south of New Jersey for SODA, CIGARETTES, TOYS and especially DOLLAR ITEMS. With our cravings sufficiently fulfilled, it was on to pastures greener.

Wildwood is a town that does not like to afix concrete meanings to things. Restaurants are often reluctant to define just what it is they’re selling. For this place, you get a Hot Dog “and” Soda…you may or may not get the one in addition to the other. They may both come in the same cup. If you rearrange the letters of the two items, you get “O, Dads to Hog”! WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY TRYING TO SELL US. But it gets worse.

“Route 66″ is “A Blast from the Past” and “A Place to Remember” - at least it admits to being a restaurant and pizzeria. One need not dare even trying to create a witty anagram from the letters of these massively lame and decidely undecided phrase-sayings. Places that are honest about what they are get honest business. Virtual Fools loathes fuzzy math, undecided places, and swipshy-schwopsy driving. After all this pain, we went a-searching for…

AND CHECK OUT THE DAME WE FOUND!

Some gams, egh? She sure was a looker. But wait, there’s more:

No ifs, ands, or BUTTS about it! We were so glad to meet such a nice gal at the beach. With our faith in humanity (and the opposite sex) restored, we took the rest of the boardwalk by storm, leaving no stone unstoned, handling pots and touching weeds.

With sex still on the brain, we couldn’t help but note the plentitude of randy material just out for public consumption. If Paul’s mom knew about how he treated his balls, she’d cry. Let it be our little secret.

I’m not going to pop the obvious joke here, so figure it out for yourself.

There is nothing phallic about this tower. Located at a prime spot on the boardwalk, it seems to currently be unused. Once Virtual Fools expands its empire into filmmaking, restauranteering and full-blown publishing, we will buy this place. Not only would it be great for sexy parties and movies, it would provide for an incredible view of the boardwalk and its environs.

GOOD NEWS! There are still some “Trolls” trading cards for sale in the world! We had just about given up hope. But near this tower, there is an open air market that hocks all sorts of crap at closeout prices. Kevin wanted to buy some Donruss baseball cards from 1989 for the gum, and Jimmy insisted that the gum was still good, but a burning desire to only spend money on 1)’za, 2)arcade games, 3)world domination and 4)heady shit meant that no Donruss cards were in the cards, if you catch my drift.

There was also some recluse store that did not want any light to enter. The prevailing theory is that it is run by the vampire mafia that owns most of the beachfront property on the east coast. If you would like to read a book about them, click here. The name of that store? Could it realisitically be
anything other than ?

No, no it can’t. But this leads us into other great songs… such as Bruce Springsteen’s song entitled:

Springsteen, as we all know, is from Jersey. But too often celebrities born in the state you are in get attention where other celebrities deserve it more. Perhaps we should honor the name of one of our neighbors from the North… Buffalo, New York. On August 6th, one of music’s greatest passed away. Sure, “Cocaine is a hell of a drug,” but good taste is the soma of the masses. It is in bad taste that Wildwood presented to us the ultimate in “Too Soon” products…

Much too soon.

Other celebrities made psuedo-appearances on the boardwalk. Like the Delta House from National Lampoon’s Animal House.

On closer inspection you can clearly see Bluto and some kah-ray-zee frat brother PAST OUT in the window. While we’re on the subject, how about some more movie references?

“I wish I were big.” No, stupid Zoltar. Not tall big. You know. BIG big. As in down there. FOR WHICH TO PLEASURE THE WOMEN.

I’ve heard awful things about the Pirates of Wildwood. No, not the ride. The actual scallywags themselves. Yargh! Their ship (the Plack Bearl I believe they call it) is a menace to the coast. I’ve heard stories. She’s been preying on ships and settlements for near ten years. Never leaves any survivors… I hear it’s a cursed ship. A motley crew of mauraders and pillagers indeed. Some don’t even have all their body parts in a row. Like:

Bootstrap’s bootstraps…

Okay, enough with the movie references. Let’s get back to the task at hand. We’ve already sought women. What other things to men like to do? AH! I know! Tote weapons and shoot! Now where oh where can we shoot things?

OH SNAP! ZOMBIES! BLAST THEIR HEADS OFF!

Wait?! We can actually shoot zombies?! This is awesome. You sit in cart as it travels around this building and you shoot horrible zombies to rack up points for prizes. This attracation is quite cool when you think about it. It’s got the highest production value on the boardwalk… and that includes the rollercoasters and stuff. You see, rollercoasters don’t have huge companion websites like ZombieWorld.net. This website includes a long backstory (under the Journal section). It also appears that the Zombie World attraction is only in New Jersey… and the story explains why. Pretty intense for Wildwood. So let’s turn our attention to something a little more in line with the values of the boardwalk…

Phew. Much better. But these types of amusements are a little too expensive for our tastes. We’re used to cheap “quarter-based” entertainment. One quarter provides a load of entertainment in the classic games department. But wait! Jimmy… what is that you’ve got there?

Hmmm… I can’t read it from here. Let me take a closer look.

Excuse me! Baking powder?! What is this? Why is this Q*bert machine so expensive? Why is everything in this arcade fifty cents? This is horrible. This is a travesty of epic proportions. Where the ass am I supposed to get two quarters?!! This is much too high class for us. Let’s escape to somewhere we can afford with prizes similar to fecal matter and driftwood.

Oh, yeah-fuckin’-right. Like that is reasonable. Let’s move on even further…

Nice. Now there’s something I can use on a day to day basis. My pillow can lull me to sleep while LOLing me to sleep. But we’re not women. We have no use for such things. No. What we need is something extremely masculine.

MUCH BETTER! Our resident tap-master Jimmy was designated to the task of fillin’ a pitcher while the CRAZY tap moved back and forth and every-which-way.

Jimmy did it with the easests of ease. Granted one of those words probably isn’t actually a word, we still managed to earn ourselves a handful of tickets in which to obtain swag. The only problem was 10 tickets isn’t worth a twenty minute wait at the prize-counter, so we ended up placing them on top of a tall game cabinet. This way, little kids get teased by these apparently free tickets which are just a couple feet out of arms reach. We’re sick bastards. But none of the prizes could match the grail of all boardwalk winnings:

We was all abouts Mario wit’ da bling bling. The scorpion represents… uh… pinching. And pinching can be done on the asses of girls. So that obviously means that this Mario is all about the toadstool-snatch. Why do you think she’s called Princess Peach? I rest my case.

And with this revelation the crew decided we must part. Our time has been well spent but we need to move on. Wildwood, we bid you farewell until next summer. May your boards stay wooden and your water stay wet. ADIEU!