The Reverse Jam

Jammers, a moment of reflection:

There has always been some debate as to the proper procedure for handling a foul jam. While jamming at a local soul jamateria, Greens found himself deeply involved with a toppling plate of southern jambalaya. Half way through, the jam turned sour, real sour. Knowing the odds, Greens did the only thing a jammer can do. He fought the threatening geyser with double-time jamming. In a classic battle of up versus down, Greens cleared his plate and ran for the bathroom. Bent over, staring into the bowl, Greens imagined himself as a huge shrimp, inches away from a cocktail fork, reeking of the sea, his voice too weak to cry out before being gutted and swallowed. What followed was a harrowing, hour long psychological battle that would leave Greens on his back, next to the toilet, with every ounce of murderous jam, too tired to keep fighting, still in his jam zone. So, what did we learn? Like our feelings about girls we like, foul jam’s should remain bottled up inside us, no matter how badly they want to escape, because a jam is a jam, no matter how messed that shit is.