Wildwood

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“...they deep fried my shoes.”

~ Oscar Wilde on Wildwood

For those without comedic tastes, the so-called experts at Wikipedia have an article about Wildwood.

The Holy Bling Christian-Italian Republic of Wildwood is an enormous lump of deep-fried-ooze-sludge that was built in 12 days by Italian Americans looking for a way to counter Mexican revolutionary invaders. It is located on the East Carolina-Vermont border and is the site of alien paranoia and obesity

[edit] History

Founded (accidentally) by Helen Keller on her way to the bathroom, Wildwood was originally a place that insane fishermen and disoriented surfers came to do their work and later get hammered. The Italians just like to tell them what to do, and although a minority were still louder than every fisher there. By 1954, obese bulemic lesbian businessmen who smoked cat fur cut down the forest there to build a boardwalk strong enought to support Tram Cars and fat smokers. Ever since then, Wildwood has been a bastion of sun-burnt tourism and shriveled penor , thanks to salt water. There are four main sections of Wildwood. North Wildwood, Wildwood, Wildwood Crest, and shitty fucking West Wildwood. Yo, fuck West Wildwood. Shit West Wildwood included, the entire island has an unexplicable infatuation with Chubby Checker. For this reason, Wildwood has cleverly been named "Nigger Twist City" by Americans all over the world.

[edit] Industry

Throughout the spring, fall and winter, Wildwood is a ghosttown. Also, the Vatican meets there in may when Italy has its spring cleaning. Its only industry is running moonshine out of empty hotels to Pensylvania, where there is no real beer, only American beer. However, in the summer, the tourism industry is very important. It is always filled with tourists in the summer. These tourists fall into two categories: Fat, hoagie-munching, cigar-sucking, sun-burning, beer-guzzling lumps of lard from Philly and/or New Jersey, and French Canadian invaders who wear speedos.

President-Moonshiner of Wildwood, celebrating after leading Wildwood to victory against the Americans in 1812.

Fat, hoagie-munching, cigar-sucking, sun-burning, beer-guzzling lumps of lard from Philly and/or New Jersey stay for two weeks. They sit on other people's faces, blowing the hotel bell-boys (except that none of the hotels have bell-boys), while slurping down sperm-soaked sub sandwiches called hoagies. This is how they spend two days. They tend to also go up to Atlantic city to gamble at Trump casino, and pick up hookers. After losing half their lunch , they sink into a subconscious depression which causes them to eat deep-fried everything, especially twinkies. They will also drink non-alcoholic beer non-stop, while baking cookies in the sun. They somehow manage to lug themselves out of their chairs and drag themselves to the googlefuck beach, where they stand knee-deep in what they think is water, but is really sorry shit they call the NJ ocean while also drinking beer and being eaten by jellyfish. On the ginormous boardwalk, they always take the fucking tram car to get somewhere. T. As they try to stand up, with a massive erection, they will suffer a combination heart-attack, lung-cancer, cholesterol poisoning, fathey eventually go on a roller shit coaster, but throw up as a result. After puking, they feel a need to replenish what they lost from puking, and guzzle twice the original amount of beer and eat twice as much food. By the end of their vacation they will be shitting on the beachal sunburn and alcohol poisoning simultaneously, collapse on the ground, and get taken in by the tide, never to be seen again in their human form. However, the owners of hogy joints will recover the bodies and use the remains for their hogy meat, which will feed the next wave of Fat, hogy-munching, cigar-sucking, sun-burning, beer-guzzling twat lumps of lard. It is a cycle which the UN has declared is inhuman and vomit-inducing.

French Canadian invaders who wear speedos do not have a cycle. They do not die, because they develop a resistance to unhealthy food from poutine in the fatherland of Québec. They stay skinny by smoking weed, and only wear speedos. This actually kills tourism from English Canadians. The French Canadians only stay in l'Hotel Québecois, Fleur de Lis or the Starlux hotel, known for its overdoneness. The French Canadians' only threat is the population of Fat, hoagy-munching, cigar-sucking, sun-burning, beer-guzzling lumps of lard who may kill the Frenchies by sitting on them. This rarely happens though, so the two tourist groups have learned to reproduce. They also repulse all other tourists, so although Wildwood is not a cesspool of creepy fish, few people who aren't fatsos or disillusioned drunk monkies visit.

[edit] Acme

Getting into ACME on a Sunday

Nobody in Wildwood prospers more than that one ACME store. Not only does it sell moonshine, it is the only place in the republic that sells stuff that you actually need (pop-tarts, moonshine, toothbrushes, pasta, but no fried twinkies "DAMN".) This is why every sunday, the place will be looted by maurading gangs of hooligans, Mussolini-sympathizers, and incredibly noisy people.

On these sundays, ACME barricades its doors with wooden planks and rhino feces, YUM YUM, and places three guard tigers outside the store. But then comes the stampede of sweaty fat people, all kicking eachother in the nads? to get a box of waffles or one tabloid, then slashing with a machete through someones tendon to get to the cash register first, then stealing that Ferrari GTA style. It's like being at a rap concert or a post-game European soccer riot.

[edit] Population

• Tourists: 50%
• Moonshine runners/makers: 10%, plus 3% of the tourists
• Hogy makers: 21%
• Loud Italian Americans: 200%
• Beached jellyfish: 1%
• Chronic gamblers/drinkers/hotel managers: 18%
• "The Sopranos" wannabes: not measurable
• Drunken delusional people': too many to count
• Hungry Seagulls': holy crap!!! Overload!!!!!

It must be kept in mind that although the "The Sopranos" wannabes do not make up more than 500.3 %, they are fat enough to be two to three people.

[edit] The Boardwalk

A typical resident of Wildwood, often, they are mistaken for walruses, and vice-versa.

The boardwalk is a five mile long cesspool of creepy t-shirt salesmen who hit on people, sweaty fat Italians, tacky casinos, gay bars, SARS, farts, and enough deep-fried toxic waste to give twelve dolphins simultaneous heart-attacks, and make seven people fart a strange and flammable purple gas. However, if you wish to eat at Kentuckistan Fried Gull, you must venture off the smelly safety of the board walk into the untamed streets, where someone may try to run you over with their sleazy car while drunk.

There are also amusement park rides and brothels on the board walk. One may ask why such violent roller coasters are located so close to such massive amounts of deep-fried tooth-paste etc., but the only answer would be massive amounts of deep-fried vomit hurled onto said person.

The rides are only dangerous to fat people. But, because everybody who isn’t French who goes there is fat, they all barf after riding. Occasionally it will float out to sea, and it will turn into jellyfish, who will beach themselves to be eaten by the fat people again.

[edit] What people are saying about Wildwood

“Home sweet home.”

~ Hordes of beached whales jellyfish on Wildwood

“You have been warned.”

~ Fat naked lunatic running you over in his car on Wildwood

“Don't forget to bring a towel!”

~ Towelie

“Who wants to buy my timeshare there?”

~ Mussolini

“I shit on the boardwalk, true story.”

~ Anonymous on Wildwood

“FRIED OREOS, omgwtf?”

~ a typical Wildwood resident