NEW YORK - CRIMINAL FOOD

Fruit is not ever dangerous and gross. Fruit has always been special, biblical bacchanalia, an exotic chow vacation for sexy adventure people who wear no clothes and allow melon seeds to drip down their chins into their bellybuttons. Fruit is like a rainbow; fruit is a healthy spiritual treat. Fruit is a nourishing miracle of color, so often depicted in oils by the great master painters. Fruit is not a halitosis grenade and it shouldn't make your mouth smell like a moldy iguana wearing dirty jean shorts.

My brother's name's Darian, and at times, upon a first introduction, he's been misheard as "Durian." As two rubes from West Virginia, we had nary an awareness to stink melon existence and had to investigate his counter-factual namesake via internet. We discovered not only was durian illegal to eat in some parts of the world, its odor was over and over described as a cross essence of infectious furuncled rotten throw-up sulphury amphibious feculent toe jam. It is so malodorous and unpleasant, it is a criminal food that gathers mobs of citizens to vomit upon encountering its peculiar fetid curdle of repugnance. Once open, its putridity lures beasts from the wilderness to come lurking for the stench.

We recently purchased "the king of fruits," which was frightfully spiky, like a poop ball ejected from a prehistoric psychedelic Skeletor butthole. Behold Darian as he behelds the great durian.

He wore surgical gloves 'cause we heard the stink lingers like fingering cancerous monkey pussy. And the monkey smokes Basics. Menthol.

The texture is weird, like custardy jelly flesh, uniformly slippery, nestled in the crags like fresh abortion. Medusa's uterus. Jiggly, though crusty. Underpantsy!