The Summer Solstice is nigh, and when things get hot, there’s nothing better than stayin’ cool at the world famous Jersey Shore. The funnel cakes! The fistfights! Kicking over some nerd’s sandcastle and stealing his main squeeze! Horses diving off the Steel Pier in the early 1900’s, before it was illegal to charge 3 cents to watch a horse die! Yes, the Jersey Shore is all of these things. But don’t let the stereotypes dissuade you. You don’t need to be a bikini babe or a muscle freak to enjoy the beach. You can be a regular ass, run-of-the-mill piece of human garbage that nobody cares about and still have the time of your life. Here’s the problem though – beaches cost money. And let’s assume that all of your cash is tied up in something you’d rather not talk about, and leaving a paper trail is out of the question. Here are some tips for $tayin’ Cool and Havin’ Fun at the Beach for Le$$.
First thing’s first, you need a beach pass. These are advanced pieces of paper that unlock the beach. Now the average working stiff walks up to the hunk manning the border patrol on the boardwalk, pays his six bucks, then plunks his ass on the beach for the rest of the day like a rube. You’re probably saying to yourself, there has to be a better way. A way in which I don’t have to pay anything, because all I have in my wallet is a cool flat rock I found once and a Kohl’s gift card with an indeterminate amount of Kohl’s bucks left on it. Luckily for you, there is a better way. First, create a diversion by starting a small, controlled trash fire on the boardwalk in front of the beach entrance. Now here’s where it gets interesting: throw yourself into the fire, just enough to set your clothes and hair and skin ablaze, and then run straight for the ocean. Who’s going to stop you? John Q. Nobody, that’s who. Then kick back, relax, and soothe your burns in the bathlike waters of the Atlantic. But keep an eye on that trash fire, you’re going to need it later.
It’s time to eat! The Jersey Shore is full of exotic local cuisine, from ferocious sea creatures to ferocious fried delights, heavily dusted in powdered sugar and served in a paper bag turned transparent by grease. Here’s the kicker though, they charge money for food at the beach. The nightmarish, crushing fists of capitalism will bludgeon each and every one of us. Since we’re trying to spend as little money as possible on this trip because maybe we lost everything through a series of poor, wildly illegal investments, it’s time to save a few greenbacks. Look no further than the stately seagull. Study its habits. When an errant french fry falls to the ground, gull swoops down, he eats for free. That’s your chance to snatch up the gull, give it a firm thrashing and then cook it over your trash fire from before. Now YOU’RE sort of eating french fries like a regular boardwalk dandy.
Frank Sinatra probably once said, “Summertime baby, ooh what a thrill. Down at the boardwalk I got my kicks, with some cuckoo broad named Jill.” You’ve made a lot of friends at the Jersey Shore today. Hunks, bikini babes, gull. But it’s time to leave, because if you’re anything like me, the sand is too hot on your delicate skin, and chances are the dragnet is closing in on you. Wave goodbye to the beach, but wave hello to the money you didn’t spend, even though you don’t have any for reasons that you can’t get into right now.
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