UPDATE 2: USPS's Motto: "We're a Cissyphean Ordeal!"

Tweet

This is Part Three of an ongoing investigation into the United States Postal Service's blatant incompetence, which is what makes it so American. Go into any American restroom and take a look at the cheap paper towels in there, the kind that don't absorb water; they merely deteriorate from it. The USPS's trademark mail delivery system is making a less-than two hour drive take two weeks long. Granted, you can cut off a week because that portion of the delivery had to be taken care of by Communist China, a country where gender-specific genocide and footbinding is merely a cultural phenomenon, and not an ethical problem. Today's latest stint involves a new mail driver, a man with Terminator shades, a blue tooth ear piece and cerebral palsy. He's driven across our street NO LESS than seven times, executing three-point-turns and pulling into people's driveways to turn around. Habits also including dumping packages on doorsteps and running. Maybe he thinks he's role-playing as GTA's CJ, hijacking a mail truck and roving around playing mailman. Whatever the case, the package slate for delivery has been in limbo for at least two days as of this writing, so you know it was worth it to take up this morning. This reminds me of a fascinating video project I once witnessed online, in which a man set up a camera inside of a box and delivered it through the mail system. Imagine the fascinating and colorful scenery my package must be enduring right at this moment. Want to help with a fun project? Photograph any mundane mail parcel in a variety of exotic locales to help me track my own package! It'll most likely come in a bland cardboard box and is small enough to fit in an ordinary box. Be sure to photograph the box in many locations such as: East St. Louis, behind a McDonald's restroom toilet, Tom Green's bedroom, the top of the Hoover dam, fuedal Japan, Twin Peaks, the inside of an alligator's stomach, buried in used catheter tubes, being chewed on by starving Israelis, in an alternate dimension not of sight or sound but of mind, or ANY place, really. It is to my understanding that the package is currently in Rasputin's cold, dead fingers and that I shan't expect to see it rightfully delivered to me, the paying customer, for quite some time now. Maybe the new mailman stole it and is trying to make a crackpipe out of it, which doesn't seem possible out of an ordinary video game thingy. I guess that's what happens when you order from a country that still has opium dens.