"You're Braver Than You Believe, and Stronger Than You Seem, and Pathmark Than You Think"

How's This For A Depressing Piece of Junk Mail

Man, there are so many perks to being Catholic. Like the inherent cultural guilt. Or the forty or so odd confirmation ceremonies you have to endure before you're an "adult." Or getting on the mailing list of the Archdiocese of Newark so you receive junk mail for mausoleum plots. 

I got this lovely full-color brochure for the "beautiful and majestic" Gate of Heaven Chapel Mausoleum just last week, and I gotta say, if I hadn't watched "Phantasm" back in the day, I'd consider chucking my corpse in one of those dresser drawers. No I wouldn't.  

I guess the most interesting part of the brochure is the "0% interest financing," which means this bad boy is probably pretty expensive. I guess it either teaches young people the value of saving all the way up till they grow up and croak or gives dying people the opportunity to really stick some serious debt to their loved ones. Because fuck them. Especially Nancy.

(Don't think that it escaped me that the two previous jokes centered around Germans.)

Stay tuned as I come around to downloading the mobile app to see what the heck that thing does. Because I'm curious now. Can you talk to the dead with it? Does it offer human remains Instagram filters? Does it track the police so you and your teen girlfriend can get it on under the gazebo?

A New Jersey Mystery

Ever since I've taken the NJ Transit train to New York, out the window I've noticed workers out in the swampy area around Secaucus. But instead of clearing the marsh area or dumping toxic waste like normal people, they've been laying down hundreds of wooden palettes. In the middle of bumfuck nowhere.


And when I say "nowhere," you have to understand, there's nothing but dry cattails and knee-deep mud in this entire area. Why these workers would haul a bunch of equipment and supermarket palettes out there is an annoying mystery to me.



I know what you're going to say: "maybe they're filling up the deep water with the palettes to help minimize soil erosion so that they can eventually build a high-end shopping plaza on top of that area with a nail salon that doesn't tear the shit out of your cuticles when they push them with their sharp little nail tool."

Right. But why would they do it so shittily and haphazardly like that? Are they just laying a few at a time as a little engineering experiment? Again, it would be a shitty and haphazard experiment.


It's certainly not meant to be a secret dumping ground, because they're obviously doing it in open view of thousands of train commuters.


In "Fraggle Rock," there was a little race of builders called "Doozers" that built little bridges and scaffolding for no apparent reason. The big difference being, Doozers worked in dark, cramped quarters underground, and these New Jersey workers are working in New Jersey. Pause for laughter.


I had taken it upon myself to name several of the structures:

"The Partial Trail"
"The Partial Dock"
"Ugly Stack"
"Wooden Line"
"Scheherazade"
"L-Shaped Half-Assed Project"



And just as baffling as the building of these structures is the fact that they've also been dismantled without ceremony or explanation. You have to wonder if this is all some corrupt Superfund project– millions of your tax dollars being spent on two guys playing dominos with gigantic wood palettes in a swamp.

Proof I'm Going To Die In A Cab

Dying Words

An Imagined Conversation.

"Gimme the watch."
"Ow! You're hurting me!"
"I said gimme the watch."
"Here."
"And your wallet. And your iPod. Gimme that."
"Here. Please don't hurt me!"
"Shut up."
"Can I go now?"
"No. You stay put or I swear I'll cut you...I want to ask you a question."
"Huh?"
"What the fuck you doin' in Los Vatos Locos territory with your fanny pack and Hawaiian shirt and shit?"
"Los Vatos what?"
"Don't you we run these Jackson Heights streets, son? You can't be wearing red around here."
"Uh... I think I just got lost."
"Gee, you think?"
"I was using this subway pocket map I got from New York Magazine."
"Lemme see that."
"You're still stabbing me."
"Sorry...Shit, dude. I see your problem now."
"What?"


"This formula on the back. The Arithmetic of the Avenues and some shit."
"Yeah, it's pretty confusing."
"Dude, it's downright confounding, yo."


"Uh, so do you know how I can get back to Manhattan?"
"Shit, this thing is totally confusing. I'll just drive you there."
"Really? Thanks."
"No prob. And here, take your iPod back. I hate Death Cab For Cutie."

"I'll Just Take the Next Bus, Thanks."

(pictured above, New York City continues to be safe for people who are observant enough)

From Dust To Dawn

(pictured above, a homophobic clean freak delivers some vigilante justice)