Armagideon Time

Why should the flood-prone folks in Cajun country have all the fun?

Let the unwashed masses molder beneath the earth with the worms and dirt and corpse-eating mole people. You are the assistant regional manager for widget sales in the Tri-State area.

You are distinguished, and you should let it be known both here and in the realm beyond. You deserve better than conventional memorialization.

You are a modern day pharaoh and your sacred remains should be treated as such. What you and your loved ones need is an above-ground shrine to your legacy, an eye-catching monument that cemetery visitors can see and think “oh, ick, there are dead bodies in that thing.”

Any loser can be planted in the ground. Truly distinguished individuals choose to rest in what will become a preferred place for suburban goth teens to have absinthe-soused sex then stub their cloves out on your “beloved father” inscription.

Recommended listening: Fur Bible – Plunder the Tombs (from the Plunder the Tombs EP, 1985)

Cramps and bags and gun clubs for legal weapons and future damned sisters of mercy and bad seeds.

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