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About this City Journal

A tour of undiscovered New England...

Entries in this City Journal


You're looking at the Kardesheean Gorge. It's the deepest gorge in New England and has been exploited many times online. The Rayjay River runs wild beneath with its raging waters.


The Kardesheean Gorge is empty and worthless, and yet millions people flock to see it's shallow existence year after year.


Sure, it's nice to look at, but it lacks substance and depth. It's the Kardesheean Gorge: talentless and unworthy of notice.


Kardesheean Gorge: it looks great from behind, but once you get to know it, you realize there's nothing but emptiness and it's not worth your time.



St. Florence County is one of the most popular fall destinations in New England. Thousands of tourists from around the world flock to the area every weekend to take selfies with the local landscape as a beautiful backdrop. Located on the northern edge of SFC is the St. Florence Skyway Bridge. With a deck height of 1,203 feet, the bridge is the perfect location for naked bungee jumping or hocking loogies.


Below is the Van Hopin homestead. They live off the grid and still aren't convinced about the conveniences of indoor plumbing. There's nothing like squatting in the woods when the temperature has dropped to fifteen below zero.


The still is used to make medicinal whiskey. It's just like regular whiskey, but it can relieve the pain associated with glaucoma... and pretty much every other type of pain you might have.


The Huneebubu River is flowing freely this time of year. It's like someone put on an oversized pair of boxer shorts.


Only 346 people have tossed their cookies while driving over the St. Florence Skyway Bridge. It's a pretty good record compared to most bridges in its class.


Ever seen the "Amityville Horror"? This house is worse. Even the ghosts sleep with night lights and crucifixes.


Here's the "NSA view" of St. Florence County.


Thanks for stopping by. Sadly, there's only one more St. Florence journal entry after this one. Fall is almost over and I've got to move on to another project. I think I'm gonna build a crime-filled region loaded with dirty factories and people with bad tans and funny accents... I'll call it "New Jersey"!

Comments and critiques are always welcome. Bring it on -- I can take it!


The sounds of rustling leaves can be heard as the first winds from the north roll into the tiny town of New Amble. The residents have done a fine job of preserving its New World and Reconstruction era heritage, including an opera house that most husbands regret they never tore down in favor of a sports bar.


New Amble is the epicenter of rural New England's theater scene, and local thespians are busy producing the musical version of "Fifty Shades of Grey". Numbers include "Spank Me Maybe" and "All That Ham".


This weekend, Main Street will be loaded with tourists in for the big Gourd Festival. It's just like Easter, except people hide gourds instead of eggs. What the hell else do you do with gourd? Seriously, they're useless.


New Amble Station whisks people away to bigger cities like Boston, not too far from car near the park (talk in a Boston accent for the full effect).


You'll love shopping in downtown New Amble. They carry all the biggest brands from the 1970's and 80's. It's one of the few places left where you can still buy a Zenith 26" tube TV or a Members Only jacket.


It's almost leaf raking time. I hate raking leaves.


St. Peter's is one of the oldest churches in New England, and smells like clam chowda and lobsta every weekend during the Sunday church luncheon and fundraiser.


Thanks for taking a peek at my CJ. Leave a comment or critique down below.


Murphy's Grove is a small hamlet on the northeastern edge of St. Florence County. Most residents are still on rotary phones, and it takes about forty-five seconds to dial 911. Some of the more progressive young folk have actually advanced to dial-up Internet, and it's still possible to hear the "You've got mail!" audio prompt from those crazy AOL users.


The Hixton Mill provides enough energy to power the wood plane for the local lumber trade. They use the lumber to make Xboxes (that's a wooden box where you keep pictures of your ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends).


The Brodys own eight horses, but most of them run wild because the Brodys can't be bothered with fixing their fence. In their fence defense, the nearest Home Depot is about three hours away.


If you cross the Berry Brook Bridge, you'll run into the sleepy community of Gibbler's Knob. You can pay with cash for goods and services, or you can try and barter by slapping some beaver pelts on the counter.


Even more horses have escaped from the Brody Farm. It's not a very stable stable.


There's a big sale on Jonathan Apples, bags of flour and shoe laces at the general store this week. Good luck getting them to accept your Groupon.


The Berry Brook Bridge is pretty creepy this time of year. The ghost of Jeb Gibbler is said to roam these parts. Jeb lost his life drinking milk after the cow fell on him. Instead of "Boo!", he moans, "Mooooooo!".


A new shipment of quilts arrived this morning, so Gibbler's Knob is buzzing with activity. It's the equivalent to an iPhone release day.


According to the last census, there are more dead people living in Murphy's Grove than living people. The headstone business is booming, and the St. Florence Church is running out of room in their cemetery.


Here's the "NSA view".


Thanks again for visiting. Feel free to leave a comment before you go.


Prescott is a small village nestled along the foothills of Vermont close to the Canadian border. Its residents celebrate a rich and historical heritage after their epic battle with Canada back in 1789, also known as "The Great Maple Tree Massacre", in which almost three hundred people lost their lives fighting over rights to the the syrup fields of the North East. Canada lost the battle, but won the war after sending us Celine Dion, Bryan Adams and Justin Bieber.


Prescott straddles the Hockeepuckah River, named after the Hockeepuckah Indians, of course. They were known for their incredible skills on the ice, and are credited with inventing the very first ice skates, which were made from beaver pelt and moose antlers.


Below is Abraham's Bridge. Unbeknownst to Prescott residents, it's been rigged with explosives in case the Canadians ever try and invade again.


You're looking at the Folsom Bridge. Yeah, it's rigged for explosives too. Damn Canadians.


It's Bingo Saturday at St. Rico's Church. St. Rico is the patron saint of mental illness, and became famous after convincing parishioners that an impending Canadian zombie apocalypse was on its way.


Just think of how much maple syrup is in all of those trees below.


It's Pumpkin Spice Latte time at Starbucks!!! Damn Starbucks.


Here's the "NSA view" of Prescott.


Thanks for checking out my CJ! Comments and critiques are always welcome. This is still my freshmen year, so be gentle.


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