The Jesus Chronicles
by LaToya "GfV" Prater and Justin "Parched" Burton

Since moving to the Midwest I have heard a lot of people babbling on about finding Jesus. Well, we're going to save them a lot of trouble by reporting what he's been up to. He currently lives somewhere around Westport, although no one is sure exactly where. But you can always count on two things with the Son of God: First, he's a drunk, and second, he never pays for ANYTHING.

“Yeah, I hung out with Jesus once,” writes Aloyisius Gundofinger, of Lawrence, KS. “He came over to my friend’s house last summer for the Fourth of July. My friend has this pretty big house and he had a bunch of his frat brothers over and some friends and stuff, and I’m friends with Crazy Mike’s (he had the party) younger brother. Anyway, Jesus came by, and it was cool at first, he did that thing with the loaves and fishes, and even though no one really wanted cod sandwiches, it was pretty gnarly. But then he starts sucking down the beer faster than anyone could keep tabs, and he hadn’t paid the $5 cover we were asking from the guests to help cover the food, beer and weed and stuff. We had been working on this keg of Milwaukee’s Beast all morning, and there was plenty for everyone, but before you know it, it’s spitting out empty foam, totally tapped. Jesus had been hanging around the keg all day, and he was so wasted, you could just tell he drank it all. By the time we noticed it was gone (along with three bottles of Boone’s Farm, the strawberry one reserved for chicks, out of the vegetable crisper), he was nowhere to be found. I checked the downstairs bathroom, and it was trashed. Puke everywhere, and we knew who did it, because written on the mirror in shaving cream was “Don’t sweat it: I died for your sins”. And he left without even saying “goodbye” or “thanks” or anything. Lame ass.”

"Oh, man, you talk about a party animal," recalls Mike Blaney of Kearney, Missouri.  "I'll never forget when I had a vinyl party...you know, where you have a turntable and a whole shitload of records.  And everyone else brings records, too.  Well, we're, like, 20 minutes into the party, and all of a sudden Jesus shows up with two chicks on his arm and, I swear to his dad, a mint condition of the 'Saturday Night Fever' soundtrack... in the original wrapping.  Then he just looks at me, with that crazy look in his eyes and a little smirk on his face, and he asks, 'Who's the Son of God?'  And once the needle hit the first groove of 'Stayin' Alive,' I realized...every time someone yells 'Jesus!', it really means 'Disco!'  At least, that's what I'd like it to mean.  But, yeah, anyway, that was a fun night."

Michelle Alexander of Shawnee, Kansas didn't have quite the same experience.  "You know, everyone calls him 'The Messiah,' and 'The Really Cool Guy with the Kickass Toga and Sandals,' but I'll tell what I call him: That Unshaven Jackass Who Can't Hold His Liquor.  I mean, I wouldn't call him that to his face.  But I'll never forget the time I was out with my sorority on Brats 'N' Bitches Night, and I saw him drinking with a bunch of lepers.  He was laughing real loud, and just spouting off a bunch of nonsense. And he stumbled over to me, looks at the tag on my blouse, and said ‘I just wanted to see if you were really made in heaven.’ Then he laughs uproariously, like it’s the first time anyone’s ever trotted out that little piece of genius. Nice try, guy.  I've heard that before.  I just turned around, trying to ignore him, but he grabbed my shoulder and muttered, reeking of whiskey, 'Hey, Imtalkin' ta yoooou...' and then fell over and started cracking up. And once he got up, he ran to the corner, where he puked louder than anyone I've ever heard. Everyone was staring at him. Finally, picking up his head, sensing the embarrassment, he says, all serious and cryptic  'It is finished'...and no one knew what the hell to say. True story. 

I think I saw him at a Target a few days later.  He was buying shampoo or something.  He didn't even recognize me."

"I've known Jesus since I was 10," says Peter “On This Rock I Will Build My Church” Cranden of Bethlehem, Israel.  "We really grew up together.  I mean, as much as a kid could grow up with Jesus. By the time we hit puberty, he was already in his mid-life crisis. Even though he looked a lot older than the other kids, he was still such a…kid. This one time, he swam all the way across the lake, underwater, just to pull down the swimtrunks of some dorky kid no one liked...Jude or Judas or something. We all got a kick out of it...but that kid was pretty pissed. He got tomato-red in the face, and he said, 'I'll get you for this, Jesus.'  We all thought he was bluffing. Until he ratted on Jesus to the Romans. But at the time, it was hilarious. That's how Jesus was: Always living like he knew he was going to die young. The good ones always do. Anyway, once he resurrected himself, we all had a beer and a good laugh about it."

"He needs to come pick up his crap," urges former roommate Blake Hunter of Kirksville, Missouri.  "It pisses me off that, because he's 'Jesus of Nazareth', he gets to leave his soiled clothes and Jackson Browne CDs laying around.  I mean, if it was The Eagles or Jethro Tull or something, yeah...I mean, okay.  But it's Jackson Browne.  I mean, what did I do to deserve that?" 

Another former roommate, Stacey Munson of Springfield, Illinois, agreed.  "Yeah, he really put the 'mess' in 'Messiah'.   He never cleaned up after himself.  One time I walked into his room at 3 p.m., and he was still asleep from passing out the night before...and he was, I'm not kidding, covered in Chicken McNuggets, with the foil top from a packet of McDonald's BBQ sauce stuck right to the TV screen.  I just wonder how a guy like that can take a loaf of bread and a fish and feed thousands of people. He may be a good chef, and maybe he can turn water into wine, but he couldn't find the trash can if it was in his pocket. Not that you can put a trash can in someone's pocket.  I know that didn't make much sense.  But you know what I mean.  He's a slob.   End of story."

"I found Jesus," writes Elvis Schall of Kansas City, MO. "It was the other night at Buzzard Beach. It was Wednesday evening and he was the only one in there. I recognized him right away. He looked just like all the pictures you see, except in real life his halo is neon and it says "Drink Coors Lite" in the back. I sat down at the bar and ordered the cheapest beer they had. He just sat there looking sorry for himself, ordering water, and turning it into wine. After a while he came up to me and said, "Hey man, I'll give you fifty bucks if you make out with me in the bathroom." I don't normally play that way but it kind of turned me on. It's a prison thing. Plus I really needed the bread so I could drink some more. I should have known better. He wasn't tipping and he wasn't even wearing any shoes for (Christ's?) sake. Well after we finished he slapped me on the ass and said, "Well your sins are forgiven but who's gonna take care of mine?" Then he just walked out the bathroom door laughing. By the time I got back out into the bar area he had split. He had the nastiest breath I have ever experienced and I couldn't even afford another beer to get the taste out of my mouth. I'm thinking I'm going to go to church this Sunday and snag my fifty bucks from the collection plate. Then maybe I'll make a sperm donation into the box of 'Bodies of Christ' crackers. You know he was born out of wedlock. And that makes him a bastard."