Avoid the Southern New Jersey Beaches at All Costs Part 1

by the Juice

Ahhh…Ocean City, NJ. I’ve been thinkin’ of ways to describe it. What is it? It’s not really an evil place. It sorta reminds me of the scene in Pinocchio. You know, that place where all the “bad” boys go. I think it was called Pleasure Island. Well, it kinda reminds me of that. Without all the fun, smokin’ and especially the drinkin'. Don’t even get me started on the “dry” aspect of Ocean City. Nah, when I think of Ocean City I think of a bunch of robber barons rubbin’ their greedy hands together at the masses of tourists that visit every year. “How can we get even more milk out of these stupid cows?” I’m sure is what they are thinkin’

I don’t want to name names here. So, to avoid any and all lawsuits, let’s focus today on a place I’m callin’ Wastaway Cove. Wastaway Cove is in the middle of the boardwalk. It’s the kind of place that moms and dads totally hate (whether they admit it or not), but kids love. And of course, every time we go to the boardwalk, the kids want to go there. Dang, I just cringe at the mere thought of it. I hate wastin’ my money on those lousy rides. I know. I know what you’re thinkin’. You’re thinkin’: “But, the Juice. You say you love goin' to Disney World. And Disney World is much more expensive than a place on the boardwalk. How could you hate one and love the other?” Firstly. How dare you compare Disney World to Wastaway Cove? May a cow shit in your mouth for sayin’ such a thing. There is no comparison! Disney World, although at times painful, is an overall enjoyable experience for the WHOLE family. (That statement might seem a bit contrary to what I said in this series . But really, who gives three craps?) Unlike the rather delibiltatin’ experience of Wastaway Cove. And I’d be willin’ to bet that per capita (whatever the fuck that means) the rides at Wastaway Cove are much more expensive to ride than those at Disney World. (Don’t do the research. I don’t really care if I’m wrong. And please don’t email me…)

As expected we went to Wastaway Cove on our wonderful little vacation. Not once, but twice. I don’t want to jump the gun and blow my load, as it were. Our first visit to the Cove was on the very first night of our vacation. See, I was only plannin’ on one night of money wastin’ rides. I suggested we wait to go there until we were a little further along in the vacation. Why blow your load all at once, speakin’ of load blowin’. But since it was overcast that first day, and rain was in the forecast for the rest of week, once again the Juice’s bill was left to die on the Brockman Family Floor. I gotta tell ya, those kids can do some serious filibusterin’.

The place was crowded, but at least you could navigate. Now, here’s the deal with Wastaway Cove, financially speakin'. It’s somethin’ like 50 tickets for $35. Which, maybe doesn’t seem like a lot to you. But when you’ve got four kids, 50 tickets don't go far. Believe you me, I ain’t blamin’ Wastaway Cove for me havin’ four kids. It’s not like the place put a gun to my head or anything and told me to fuck the missus. I was stupid enough to do that on my own. And tt’s not like the place forced me or tricked me into havin' kids…well. Let me think about that for a second. Maybe Wastaway Cove IS responsible for me havin’ so many kids. They could’ve put somethin’ in the water. Or, more than likely, they could’ve been sendin’ out some sort of subliminal messages for people to have more kids. More kids = more dollars, for them right? I think I’m gonna have to launch an investigation.


In any case, we got 50 tickets. Here’s another suck ass word problem for ya. You’ve got 50 tickets in your hand for rides. You’ve also got four kids (stupid idiot), but you’re only lettin’ 3 of them go on rides. How many years of therapy are you gonna have to pay if you burn the tickets in front of their not understandin’ faces while chantin’ “this is what happens when you ruin daddy’s life!”? Look for the super secret answer in our next excitin' issue. In the meantime, each kid is gettin’ 16 tickets. The rides were 2 or 3 tickets each. Of course, the non-sucky rides were 4 tickets each. Do you see how Wastaway Cove gets ya? No kid in their right mind, or their left for that matter, wants to go up and down, round and round for 45 seconds. They want excitement! They want the big buck rides. Who the hell wants to fuck a $5 whore? No, you want the real expensive one. But, unlike the kids, you don't get what you want.


Even thought the place was crowded, the wait for the rides wasn’t too bad. My personal dilemma was whether to wait with the big kids in said lines, or keep Lucifer entertained. It’s like a Sophie’s choice question. Both options suck. I choose the latter. I don’t know why. I just did. I guess I figured it was better to have one kid bitch at ya, than have 3 bitch “dad, after this I want to go on that” or “dad, Jethro keeps breathin’” or “dad, I want to go on the vomitizer, but Crazy doesn’t want to” or “dad, in 5 years I’ll be tellin’ you I hate your guts.”. or “dad, I want seven ponies for my birthday next year.” At least Lucifer doesn’t talk in complete sentences yet. He just screams.


The thing with Lucifer is that you have to keep him in constant motion. If the baby stops movin’ he’ll start scream’ about gettin’ out. It’s sorta like that crappy movie Speed, but without the bus explodin’ at the end. If I were gonna make a baby version of Speed, I’d have someone other than that totally annoyin’ Sandra Bullock in it. My version would have her as the female lead:




I can see it now. Dennis Hopper has rigged the baby so that if the stroller stops…the baby buys it. Of course, the gal won’t be able to handle that task, cause she's a chick (sorry ladies. it's the truth, though). that’s when I’ll get call. I'll have to somehow diffuse the baby, save the city, get the bad guy and fuck the mercy out of her:



And believe you me, in my version you’ll get to see all the good parts. The baby blowin’ up (you can’t win them all) and the Juice nailin’ her:


I'm fairly positive she ain't wearin' panties


Anyway, Basically I spent the next two hours tryin’ to keep Lucifer happy and contained. While the rest of them played Christopher Columbus. Rapin’ and pillagin’ what was left of my precious natural resources known as patience. I know, I know. It all sounds an awful lot like the Juice cryin’ in this Froot Loops. Just wait, until what happened next. That’s when pity will rain down. And you’ll feel like an ass for even thinkin’ I was complainin’. Douche Bag!