I Feel Like I've Been Dead Three Days

Dad damn it, am I hung over.

A word of advice, never plan a reunion with your disciples on your 2009th birthday when beer pong is involved. I may be able to walk on water but I couldn't for the eternal life of me bounce that little fucking ball into the plastic cups.

So your Lord and Savior got hammered and got to heavin' all over his best robe. I should have cooled it then, but Peter dusted off that little "puke and rally" proverb and told me he'd deny he knew me if I didn't man up. Next thing I know, Thomas says he doubts I can handle tequila shots, and I took that as a challenge.

And I think someone slipped me something too because the only thing I remember after that is the Jameses arguing about who's James the Greater. Next thing I know I wake up in a trashed penthouse with a lion and lamb trapped in the bathroom, an immaculately conceived baby in the closet, and a valet stub for a Roman chariot in my pocket.

But hey, you only turn 2009 once, right?