The Faux Pas Press #56

The Faux Pas Press #56

12 October 2010

By Jason Fresh

“Argument moves through reason, justified by the Aquaman that forced me into this position, gave me a rhyme for the season. Don’t call me strange when consciousness exudes from my chakras. Don’t treat me with disdain when light seeps out the crack of my ass. I eat the same food you do, nigga’. The only difference is, I said, the only difference is – you don’t digest your carbohydrates. Matter of fact, you don’t digest much. Now, I’m not talking about your simple sugars – the Life Saver Gummies, sour candies with an intergalactic stank. You digest that shit just fine, motha’. What I’m talking about is the deep tissue-bending truth syrup. When somebody, anybody pours that maple moody syrup on you – you get all stank and shit.”

“No, I don’t know what you’re saying….”

“Now, hold on, just hold on…..”

“No, seriously. You’re over here talking about Life Saver Gummies, language that no child can understand, language that can’t be understood, not even by the alien race that birthed us. You’re not making any sense. The Aquaman that forced you into this place gave neither rhyme of the season nor females for the teasing.”

“Goddamit, Jonesy. I need you to get me closer to a match. I need to find an extraterrestrial, solar-powered sister who is cleaner than clean. I’m talking about a sister who goes to church or the library or some shit.”

“Well, I’m not going to promise you pussy that I can’t deliver. I can’t promise you that she will digest like you either. Some gifts are the largest problems, Smithy.”