A recent visit to Wildwood found me up at the edge of dawn, driving down all shore points to reach the southern tip of New Jersey where lay that magnificent realm of beer bongs and cheeseballs.
Upon first arriving around 9:00am, the town was understandably quiet, save for the stray biker/power walker zipping by. Wildwood doesn’t really pick up until early June, when schools full of graduating seniors start their summers renting houses and getting officially wasted, followed by the usual summer crowds. It would be empty even if it wasn’t off-season; no one gets up that early on a Sunday after partying all night and consuming ungodly amounts of booze and fried goods.

Even industrial equipment needs some quiet time.
The weather was overcast and cool until later in the afternoon, giving the empty boardwalk and streets an apocalyptic feel. Decaying signage like this didn’t help much.




Ah, Pork Roll. Also known in North Jersey as Taylor Ham, the pork roll is a food of New Jersey invention, much like New Brunswick’s Fat Cat sandwiches and the confusingly named Texas Weiner, a deep-fried hot dog slathered in onions and chili invented in Paterson in the 1920s.
Also, seriously? There’s an entry on Fat Cats I can link to? I’m now sort of afraid of the magnitude of Wikipedia.

Specializing in Big Sizes is a great idea when you’re next to a place serving 70 flavors of fried ice cream.

The Cotton Candy meter starts running at 10:00am sharp.

For when you want your beachwear to reflect the awesomeness of the country you’re from.



The pirate lady’s orange hue is considered desirable around these parts.




Captain Airbrush! Not so much like Captain America as he is Captain Trips.

They’re gonna bling forever, they’re gonna learn how to fly…FLY*!


HELP MEEEEE.

I really like this half-assed attempt at Eddie , particularly as its attached to a half-assed haunted house.

Dante’s Dungeon looks like someone misremembered Dante’s Inferno after visiting Medieval Times.
This though, this broke my heart. This USED to be the Judas Priest Himalaya, now painted over as the Rock n’ Roll Himalaya. I guess it’s sort of entertaining to see distorted Bruce Springsteen and Aretha Franklin jamming next to airbrushed Kurt Cobain and James Brown, but really, can it compare to this?



It’s probably just the eyebrows on that smiley face, but Mike’s catchphrase has awfully menacing undertones.
*This video is exactly what I think of when someone starts talking about the 70s. Random greenscreening, gold lamè by the pounds, Solid Gold dancers, random Native American accessories, editing with star wipes, barn wipes and picture-in-picture…yep.