DISCLAIMER - What follows is a work of fiction. It is not true. The following is merely made up by the author. HOWEVER, if you are religious in any way please DO NOT READ IT. You will be offended. Okay, nuff said, now that all the religious types have pissed off we'll get started.
Hi there. My name is Jesus. Yes, that one. Okay, I've decided that I've waited long enough to tell my side of the story. You've all been had. The Bible is a pile of shit, Pure and Simple as Hear'Say would say. It sort of happened out of boredom you see, there wasn't that much to do when I was growing up in the Jerusalem area, bugger all to do in fact, and so you see I sort of got involved with this gang. More on that later. Anyway, I'm rambling before I even start. There was these four nerds, Mark, John, Matthew and this right tosser called Luke who decided to take an interest in me and start writing down these stories about things I had done.
The bother was that they usually did the writing after a night on the piss and before you know it the whole bloody thing gets bent all out of shape and I'm some fucking messiah. The funniest thing is that so many bloody idiots were taken in by it. I mean, for my sake, come on. Anyway, most of the shit can be explained away, and that's why I decided to write down the real version of events. Here, for the first time anywhere, is the true story of Jesus and The Disciples.
First things first, my fucking name is spelt J-E-S-U-S, but is actually pronounced HeySoos, like in Latin America. You can't begin to know how much it pisses me off when people say it wrong. Yes I had a hard life, you try being born in a fucking stable during the biggest outbreak of Foot and Mouth plague since records began. (Granted that was only three years earlier...but you know!) It was no fun I can tell you, bloody cold in them fucking mangers.
My Dad was called Joseph and my Mam was Mary, but a virgin she damn well was not. I found out later that she had it away with half of Bethlehem. However, I can't hold that against her, (I'd be arrested, after all she is my Mam!!) So, life was tough, and growing up in the dusty streets, begging for shekels, not much fun for a kid, and so I started hanging out with this pretty cool group of lads during my teenage years. We used to rough up a few lepers and nick their dosh. There's your real 'laying on of hands', and feet, and sticks and whatever else we could lay on the dirty bastards.
Eventually, I began to lead the gang. There was twelve of us in all. We became known around the area as Jesus and The Disciples. So you see, nothing religious in it, just a bored street gang of kids who liked to party and raise hell, who were basically misrepresented in a series of stories by some crappy writers. Brings this whole religious thing into perspective doesn't it???
Two of the things that make me piss myself the most is John and Judas. I believe that you know them as John the Baptist and Judas Ascariot or some shit. Well, John certainly was not a Baptist, but a Bastard. There you have it...John the Bastard. Talk about cloth ears. But what about Judas?, you ask. Well I'll tell you. He wasn't much of a walker our Judas, took too long he always said, and so he bought himself a chariot to ride around in. Did a fucking nice paint job on it too, all black with orange and red flames down the side, but I'm getting side-tracked. Hence the name you see. He became known as Judas The Chariot. Nice and simple. You know, the time I've spent thinking about it, I reckon that those stupid bloody piss heads that wrote the 'Bible' really should have had hearing aids. Would have saved about 2000 years of wars and deaths over nothing more than a collection of fiction, but...What are you gonna do?? And so to the party that I organised.
I suppose that it was the Woodstock of it's day. It all started out nice and simple like. Me, the lads, a few mates and a couple of bottles of wine. I told you earlier I had a tough life, and not much money, I couldn't afford much more than a couple of bottles. Well, as it does, word got out. The lads told their mates, who told their mates and so on and before we knew it we had half of the fucking Gaza strip there wanting a drink.
Well, tight arse that I am, (I think there's some Scot in there somewhere), I tried to stretch it out by watering it down to make it go further. Yes, that's right, I put Water into Wine. I never fucking turned water into wine, it was more of a pour to be honest with you. But once again you see, some knacker not paying attention hears water into wine, picks it up wrong and there you go. As for the fish and bread thing I think I might have been responsible for that one, (it doesn't hurt to build up your own reputation now and again...does it??)
So anyway, cracking party, plenty of drink and I was stoned out of my fucking tits. I needed to sleep it off. Thinking back, I suppose to the untrained medical eye of the day it might have looked like I was dead. Dead tired maybe, but not dead meat. So I'm snoring my fucking head off and some shit sidles me into a cave and puts this fuck off big stone in front. I just needed a couple of days to sleep off my excessive lifestyle is all.
A couple of days later, I'm up and about and people are looking at me like shit. I mean they're like falling to their knees and praising 'God'. Now there's a thing. You see me and the lads were pissed as fuck one night in the Inn and made him up. Just like that. We made up some shit that he could have done, let's face it you couldn't disprove it could you, and the rest is history...well sort of.
Again, I'm not adverse to a bit of a reputation so i let them think that I'd come back from the dead. How does that saying go? If I knew then what i know now!! Never a fucking truer word spoken. So I think that's about it for my true side of the story. Oh hang on, (no pun intended), the whole crucified on the cross thing. How about that you may well ask, I'll tell you.
Around the time there was this game sort of starting up, I think that Caesar bloke first thought of it back in Rome, but it really fucking took off round our way. It was a bit like Hockey but it was called Lacrosse. Now some of the lads really liked to play it but I preferred to watch it, sort of a manager if you will. Another classic example of cloth ears. I'm standing talking this day to some bloke and his mate and I'm really enthusiastic about the game you know? So when they're leaving one says to the other, "He's really hung up on Lacrosse!", and with a bit of Chinese Whispers thrown in I was apparently hung up on a cross...NEVER HAPPENED! And that's about it. Sure there are other examples I could go on about, but I think I've put straight the ones that piss me off the most. I was just a party dude who liked a drink and a spliff and who had a bit of a rep to go with it. Ah but you might ask, How I'm writing this around 2000 years later. And that my friends is a question I shall address at another time, trust me, you really don't want to start me off on THAT one.
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