I eventually gave up and went to the beach. I was hoping to find tons of Jerks of the Week material there. I set up a blanket near this blonde chick wearing a bikini (black top, pink bottoms). She was digging stuff in the sand and looked pretty hot while bending over. Unfortunately, like one of the women from the pool (Cute Colorful Bikini Girl), she was with her family as well. I hope her family dies in a fire, I muttered to myself in frustration.
I lied back and opened up Adam Carolla's newest book, Not Taco Bell Material. I got through the first chapter, but suddenly realized that I had to take a piss. I could either venture to the boardwalk bathrooms or just urinate in the ocean. Guess which I chose? Hint: I don't know what the inside of the boardwalk bathrooms look like.
If you think that peeing in the ocean is gross, screw you. Taking a piss in the ocean is just as natural as pizza from Italy, tacos from Mexico and STDs from Snooki. Think about it - there are billions of fish, sharks, dolphins, etc. in the ocean. Where do you think they all urinate? It's not like they have bathrooms on the ocean floor. When you take a dip in the ocean, you're actually bathing in fish, shark and dolphin piss. Why not add your own urine to the collection?
I relieved myself and then enjoyed the waves. My favorite thing to do in the ocean - besides pee - is to swim backstroke into a giant wave. You have no idea when it's coming, and you actually fly up the wave and land back into the ocean. It's quite fun. I was doing this for a good 15-20 minutes when I heard the lifeguards blow their whistle repeatedly. I didn't think they were directing this at me until I realized that I was the only one remaining in the ocean. Everyone who was once in there with me was now huddled around the lifeguard stand. Crap. They were actually whistling at me to come in.
Was there some sort of lightning storm? Was a sharknado approaching? I hurried over to discover what the announcement was. I heard the tail end of it: "We advise everyone to stay out of the ocean until tomorrow morning." I asked around what the lifeguards were talking about, and I found out that they were simply telling everyone that because it was 5 p.m., they were officially off duty and that swimming in the ocean was now at everyone's own risk. I then overheard the following exchange between a male lifeguard and some little kid.
Little Kid: Excuth me, can I go back into da ocean?
Lifeguard: I would not even go back into the water, bud!
Ugh. What's the point of lifeguards if people are permitted to swim in the ocean after 5 p.m.? Why even have them in the first place? I understand that women lifeguards tend to be hot - including the blonde who was there at that time (she had great legs) - so that's fine. Just have them wear bikinis and scan the ocean from time to time. There's no need for male lifeguards like this a**hole, who obviously ruined this poor kid's vacation by telling him not to go back into the ocean. I hate kids, but male lifeguards are completely wastes. They don't do any good for this planet and must be eliminated.
Anyway, I spent about another hour on the beach before heading back to the hotel room. I took a shower and got changed, and I went out for a night on the boardwalk...
My sister, her boyfriend, my cousin and her husband were due to meet me the following day. My sister would undoubtedly want to go to Prep's Pizza, her favorite pizza joint, so given that I was flying solo Monday night, I figured that I should try all of the other pizza places on the boardwalk.
First up was Manco & Manco, which is known for having the best pizza in New Jersey (though I would disagree). It does get pretty busy though, so I wasn't surprised that there were a bunch of people hovering around the counter. As I discovered though, many of these individuals had already ordered; they were just standing there and waiting for their slices, all while confusing the hell out of people who actually wanted to place their own orders.
A fat girl and I figured this out. We pushed people out of the way and eventually made our way to the counter. Being a perfect gentleman, I allowed her to go first. She asked for two slices of pepperoni. I then opened my mouth to tell the albino chick behind the counter what I wanted when this woman in her late 30s shoved me aside and shouted, "Sorry, my kids are really hungry!" The albino chick then took her order before mine.
As a fat man, this greatly pissed me off. Who cares about your damn kids, lady? What have they accomplished in life besides bring misery and disease to all those around them? The worst part of it is, these kids are going to grow up to be just as rude as their b***h mother, so perhaps it's for the best that they die of starvation. "Sorry my kids are really hungry..." wow, I still can't believe she justified cutting in front of me with that excuse.
Oh, and it didn't stop with this woman. The albino chick then took the order of a Mexican guy who slyly found his way to the counter. After all of this, she turned to me. I guess she could tell that I gave her a dirty look because when I asked for napkins, she only gave one as opposed to the 4-5 she handed to the b***h mom and the Mexican man.
My next stop was Three Brothers. I ordered a slice of plain and was told that it would be $3.75. What!? Nearly four bucks for one slice of pizza? Manco & Manco charged $2.50, and that even seemed to be too much. I know I'm spoiled by my local pizza joint, Station Pizza, which charges $6 for a large pie (or $4.50 per large pie for three or more), so $3.75 is ridiculous, right? Well, the slice that Three Brothers gave me was massive. The top third of it was falling off my plate. I had to hold the plate near my face and bite into it to keep it from dropping to the ground. This worked well at first, but eventually I found myself biting the actual plate, which was not fun - even for a fat man like myself.
The weird thing about Three Brothers Pizza is that they have a pair of shops located one block away from each other. Manco & Manco has three locations on the boardwalk, but they're at least separated by 2-3 blocks. The two Three Brothers Pizza joints were right next to each other. Perhaps only obese people eat there because their slices are so massive, so Three Brothers Pizza is just catering to their customers because obese people have difficulty walking? I think that's quite possible.
My third destination was Walt's Original Primo Pizza. There was one other guy in front of me, a chubby Asian dude in his early 20s. He ordered and then I asked for a plain slice. As the woman put both of our slices in the oven, the Asian man looked in my direction. He then pushed me aside and grabbed the canister of parmesan cheese for himself.
What the hell? It's not like I was even reaching for it, but still, was he that obsessed with parmesan cheese that he needed to hold it in his hands before his food arrived? Fortunately, the woman gave the pizza slice to me before Parmesan Asian Man, who looked at me with complete hatred. How do you like that karma, Parmesan Asian Man a**hole?
Hamburger Construction Company:
Three slices of pizza (including one enormous one) might be enough for an average person, but I'm extremely fat, so I needed more food. When I was peeing swimming in the ocean, I spied a placed called Hamburger Construction Company. I craved a cheeseburger ever since, so I planned to make it the final destination on my eating tour.
I walked in and immediately noticed that there were no customers. I heard the employees talking before I entered, but they all immediately quieted down as I approached the counter and sat down. They remained silent for several minutes, with the lone exception being the blonde asking me for my order (one cheeseburger with nothing on it). Was this some sort of shady operation? Was this place a front for a drug cartel, or something? Perhaps calling it Cocaine Construction Company would be too obvious.
Minutes later, I heard some shouting. A grizzled, old man I hadn't seen before was yelling at the pick-up counter.
Old Man: Why's this taking so damn long!?
Manager: Sir, it's only been five minutes. It takes seven minutes to cook a cheeseburger.
Old Man: I could've had open-heart surgery by the time it takes you to cook my burger!
Manager: Sir, this is a normal process...
A minute later, the manager handed the cheeseburger to the old man.
Manager: Sorry for the delay, sir.
Old Man: Bite me!
The old man stormed away upon shouting that. It was for the best because the employees were more talkative and jovial after that. They spent the entire time mimicking him and laughing at him.
My cheeseburger was delicious, by the way, but the best part of the experience was a brunette waitress with amazing legs who was standing behind the counter the entire time. I could've sworn she muttered something to me at one point. I asked her "what did you say?" twice, but all she had to say in response was "never mind."
Damn it. My thinking is that she said, "Where are you staying so I can sneak into your hotel room and rape you tonight?" Ugh, why couldn't she just have repeated herself!?
What's a trip to the Jersey Shore without a bit of shopping? My plan was to buy a book or a magazine for the beach the following day as well as some cool t-shirts. This turned out to be a futile strategy, however, because there were no longer any bookstores on the boardwalk. There were three when I visited in 2011, but they are now all gone.
I think that's sad. There's some nostalgia factor there - when I was a kid, I used to have my mom buy me the latest Choose Your Own Adventure or Goosebumps book, and I'd have a blast reading it. But I feel like the greater issue is the status of our society. Have people been dumbed down enough that they refuse to read books? Seriously, there can't be one freaking bookstore on the boardwalk? Can't they remove one of the 500 t-shirt stores and have one bookstore there instead? Is it really necessary to have 10 t-shirt stores on every single block of the boardwalk?
Speaking of t-shirt stores, I bought three awesome t-shirts for myself: one Breaking Bad one with a drawing of Walter White; one of Tyrion Lannister that says "[P] IMP" beneath his picture; and one amusing shirt about having to work so I can pay people's welfare. I took these shirts to the counter to find that the girl working there had one arm. Her entire right arm was cut off from her elbow down. She was cute, but I was taken by surprise and didn't know how to react. I mistakenly slipped up while speaking to her.
One-Armed Girl: How are you today?
Me: Arm doing very well, thank you? I mean, I'm doing well, how arm you doing? I mean...
I didn't mean to do this, but I was flustered. I also mistakenly tried to hand her my two $20 bills to her right hand. To her credit, she didn't seem annoyed by this. She actually handled the money impressively well by holding it between her stub and her upper arm.
I then went into another store that sold - surprise - more t-shirts. They had other things as well, including specialized keychains with people's names on them. I looked for a "Walter" keychain, but there weren't any. Of course not. There are never any Walter items available for sale. I remember looking for them as a kid, and being extremely disappointed that I had such an odd name.
I continued to scan the keychains... they had a "Wyatt" keychain and a "Landon" keychain and a "Sierra" keychain and an "Autumn" keychain and a "Jayden" keychain. Jayden's not even a real name! I scoured the entire rack again to see if I simply missed the "Walter" keychain when I overheard this fat woman constantly mutter "Cock-a-lee spaniel, Cock-a-lee-spaniel, Cock-a-lee spaniel" over and over to herself.
F*** the "Walter" keychain; I had to get out of there because I was convinced she'd take out an automatic weapon and shoot all of the customers because her cock-a-lee spaniel told her to.
I eventually thought it was time to head back to the hotel. I had to avoid this long line for ice cream at one spot on the boardwalk, so I stepped to the side and - CRUNCH!
A wagon, wheeling a little baby around, ran over my foot. I yelled "F***!" when the mother of this child confronted me.
"I'm sorry for running over your foot, but please refrain from using that type of language around children."
I would've yelled, "f*** you, lady," in response, but my foot hurt too damn much. Plus, I was appalled by this behavior. Maybe you should just carry your kid instead of wheeling him around in a heavy wagon, skank. I'm telling you, kids bring nothing but disease and misery.
I had to sit down to make sure my foot wasn't broken or anything. I was playing around with it when I overheard these three tall black dudes holler, "Turnip! Turnip!" toward a trio of girls who looked like they were 13. The girls looked at the black dudes and laughed, but then continued on their way.
What the hell does "turnip, turnip" mean? Is this some cool new catchphrase that the kids are using nowadays? Everyone knows that black guys are cooler than white guys - remember, these dudes were tall, so they must have been NBA players - so looking back on it, perhaps I should have returned to Hamburger Construction Company and said "turnip, turnip" to the waitress with the hot legs. Perhaps she would have sexually assaulted me after all. I only say "perhaps" because I'm a white guy; not a cool black guy.
I finally felt up to walking back to my hotel room. I would've made it back in about five minutes, but I saw something that made me pause. An obese man was drawing something on a florescent board. The words "Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader?" were written on one corner. I thought this was some sort of game show, so I stood around and listened.
Thirty seconds in, it was quite apparent that this was not a game show at all. The fat man preached about absolving sins and whatnot, and he also wrote, "Are you going to heaven or hell?" on the board. He also drew a cross. If you don't believe me, here's proof:
I stood around and watched in amusement as this guy shouted the most ridiculous things, like we were all going to hell because we didn't absolve our sins. He was a typical religious nutjob. After about 10 minutes, I had enough. I turned around and began to walk away when I was confronted by an average-looking woman in her 20s. She had a southern accent and introduced herself as Elizabeth.
Elizabeth: Were y'all interested in what this kind man was talkin' about?
Me: Well, I enjoyed his enthusiasm...
Elizabeth: Do y'all believe that we all have souls, and that we are all goin' to heaven if we absolve our sins?
Me: You know, I'm not smart enough to believe if there are souls are not.
Elizabeth: Y'all not smart enough to believe if y'all have a soul?
Me: Well, I don't think anyone really knows. We can choose to believe this stuff, and I think people want to believe so much that they think it's the case, but how can anyone possibly know?
Elizabeth: Well, let me ask, have y'all accepted Jesus Christ as your lord and savior?
Me: Not really.
Elizabeth: But y'all know what Jesus Christ did for you, Walter?
Oh, boy... time to get a little snarky.
Me: Yeah, he turned water into wine and stuff.
Elizabeth: And he got crucified... y'all know what crucifixion means, right?
Me: Yeah, there was like a cross and stuff.
Elizabeth: Have y'all read the Bible, Walter?
Elizabeth: If I give you a Bible, will y'all read it tonight, Walter?
Me: Nah, it's OK, if anything I'll look it up and read the important bits on Wikipedia.
Elizabeth: Is there anythin' y'all need prayin' about for tonight, Walter?
Me: Well, outside of girl issues, I don't really have a care in the world, so I'm OK.
Elizabeth: I'll pray for y'all, but one last question, Walter. Do y'all really believe that there's a possibility that we as human beins' have no souls? I want to give y'all a pamphlet describin' why we all have souls.
Ugh. I hate people like this. It's one thing to believe in something without any persecution. That's what this country is all about. It's another thing, however, to shove religion down someone else's throat and go all out to convert them. People like Elizabeth and her fat cohort are the scum of the Earth, so I made it my goal to f*** with her the best I could.
Me: I do have one hang-up with this soul issue though... eventually people will have eternal life on this planet, so what will happen to heaven if no new souls enter?
Elizabeth: What do y'all mean by eternal life on this planet?
Me: Well, I'm not supposed to be telling you this, but I'm a scientist who works for Graystone Industries. We're currently building this Cylon technology that takes brain enzymes from humans and traps them into a computer. We can then download this brain activity into robots and androids, and whatnot, to essentially give people eternal life.
Elizabeth: Uhh... are y'all serious...? How close are y'all to completin' this science project?
Me: Very close, actually! There are a couple of issues we're still dealing with, but our founder, Daniel Graystone, is confident that we'll have the project complete by the year 2025.
Elizabeth: But... but... people can still die... science can't stop that...
Me: Sure, but if they choose to, they can store their brain activity in the computer, so if they meet an untimely demise, they'll just be able to go back to their previous "save point," if you will. Thus, no one will ever die ever again.
Elizabeth: But... but... there are gonna be lots of people in the world if no one dies...
Me: Not true, actually. Soon enough, the sun's radiation is going to make it impossible for people to conceive. That's why the government is funding Graystone Industries. They know what's coming, so they want to be prepared.
Elizabeth: Well... uhh... well... I'll... uhh... I'll... pray for y'all... and your Graysmith Science...
Me: That's Graystone - and thank you!
I wish I could show you how terrified this woman was. She looked like she was about to cry. Her entire belief system was about to be blown up because of this fictional Graystone Industries.
You know, it wouldn't surprise me at all if she, her fat cohort and all of their followers Googled "Graystone Industries" to find out where it's located so they could bomb it. Too bad they won't be able to find Caprica on a map.
If you're a billionaire reading this, please help develop this Cylon technology so religious nutjobs like Elizabeth can go away. As an added bonus, we'll all live forever. Oh, and there won't be any more kids, which means no more misery and disease!