The Faux Pas Press #73

The Faux Pas Press #73

17 January 2011

By Jason Fresh

What can I say about this day that will make it more? I’m going to make stuff up anymore. I met Justin Bieber today. It was awesome. I’m a huge fan because, as a songwriter, I now live beneath the shadow of a 16 year-old phenomenon, and to meet him showed me that his earth-size shadow is actually a lot bigger than he is. As a husband, I must accept the fact that my wife is having second thoughts about our marriage. But like I said, I’m not going make stuff up anymore. I’m not going to lie in order aggrandize the plain details of my life. No, not going to lie anymore. I saw an angel who instructed me on several things: 1) the whereabouts of ancient alien record written on plates of pure gold, a record that bring today’s corporate church out of the grasps of Satan (He really exists. No shit.) 2) How to become a successful recording artist, songwriter, drummer, dancer, singer, and international superstar 3) how to become a non-toxic man and loving husband (which is what everyman truly wants even if doesn’t know it. Because no man wants to die alone) Yes, the angel, Macadamia, told me and my wife, from all the restored truth that has been revealed, that man will die alone. I looked at the angel like ‘are you crazy, man?’ and he scoffed lightly, seconding the look and asked me if I didn’t mind shutting my mouth so he could finish his visitation. And I scoffed lightly back at him as if to say, “Hey, I didn’t open my mouth so there is no way that I can shut it. Are you fucking crazy, shit-bird crazy?”
But I’m not angry at myself. I’m angry at all the angels who have manifested to man. Who told them pop out from Black Matter or the Fourth Dimension and start poking their pesky little noses around important, earthly affairs. How are we going to get off of fossil fuels? I don’t know. Hey, don’t you believe in angels? Well, I’m actually really busy right now trying to figure out how to keep the world from falling into nuclear apocalypse, a point of no return as Gerard Butler’s version of the Phantom sings. I don’t have much time for angels. But angels are what I’m getting more of recently. But, hey, don’t think that I’m going to lie. Remember, I’m not going to lie in order become something that I’m not. I’ll lie in order to become something I am.