Ok, so I’m just gonna get this out of the way up front.

Christ, as in Jesus Christ, referred to by some as “our Lord and Savior” got off easy.

I apologize if you are offended for either religious or some weird sadomasochistic envy reasons, but it’s true. Lets skip the quibbling over whether he was an actual historical figure or not, and get to the heart of the matter: the dude gets to live 33 years (it’s downhill after that, kids. Or so I’ve heard. I’m actually not yet thirty). He believes he’s the son of god or actually is the Son of God, either way, super sweet. He gets to seem like he performs miracles (or actually does). Also super sweet. And then he gets scourged, beaten, burned, probably had some of his teeth chiseled out, maybe a little aperitif of finger and/or toenail removal, then drags a heavy ass hunk of wood through town while having rocks and rotten food and probably animal (and maybe human) feces flung at him, denied by his supposed BFF, then nailed to a cross and stabbed by some asshole with a spear (that dude has got to be the biggest dick in the Bible. Except, of course, God),

and then he dies.

So you’re probably saying “Lucky? What kind of sick degenerate pederast calls that lucky?”

Me. While I’m not actually a pederast (though my initial thought about Taylor Hansen was sexual, I’m sorry, it was a mistake, and not a horribly uncommon one, I think. Quagmire, you aren’t alone). Jesus Christ, whether the son of god or not, got to suffer for what he believed was the good of all humanity. And that kind of suffering (Shit, I probably left out some stuff– he got to go through all of that and die thinking that his agony was going to redeem the souls of all of humanity) sounds like a pretty good deal to me. I may be more altruistic than most, but still. You get to be THAT guy. Not the naked-at-the-party-guy, or the pissed-his-bed-until-his-late-teens guy, or the drove-his-car-into-a-wall-at-forty-miles-an-hour-and-cracked-the-windshield-with-his-head-and- never-lost-consciousness guy. I’ve been those guys. You get to be the be the dude who, for the meager price of a couple days (maybe weeks, torture was an art form back then) saves all of humanity for all of time.

I can’t think of a smooth (or any) segue here, so fuck it. Franz Kafka wrote this short story a while back (in 1922, I think, I hate fact checking) called “The Hunger Artist”. I always dug that story, which I read when I was eleven or twelve, because I thought that it was so cool that someone would put themselves through the very special Hell that is starvation just for the entertainment of the masses. I realized, of course, the Kafka was saying something very different (and more insightful about humanity) with his point, but he’s dead and I’m not, so fuck him.

My point about Jesus and the Hunger Artist is this: I’m better than you.

I’m simply more capable of being entertaining than anyone. I’ve done stuff that you couldn’t or wouldn’t do. I’ve seen shit you wouldn’t want to. And I’ll tell you about it. At great length. Because, frankly, I’m more interested in myself too. It isn’t narcissism, it’s just being realistic.

There are people who are smarter, better looking (they’ll get theirs, though) or more driven. They’re on TV or stage or somewhere that you see them more, and that’s fine. For now. But the end of this little…ramble…is to say that I’m gonna tell you stories about things I’ve done, and I promise you, they’re more interesting than what you have to talk about at your dinner table. Fuck, you’re probably watching TV. That’s fine though. The beautiful thing about being as interesting as I am is that, despite occasionally (maybe more than occasionally) shedding my own blood (or someone else’s), destroying property, having to run semi-clothed through yards to avoid the parents of someone who wasn’t as old as they said they were, and having heavy metal playing persistently in your head, I’m NEVER boring.

So fuck your TV. (Suggestion)

Fuck going to the Gym. (Suggestion)

Fuck your friends. (Command)

Open a beer, pack a bong, rail some blow, do what you gotta do, but read my shit or your life will continue to be the boring waste of time that it has been for however many years you’ve been doing whatever meaningless shit it is that you do.