I recently had the dubious honor to work in a state where legislators and voters alike think it’s still 1950. Smoking is apparently “awesome,” and of course it’s allowed indoors.
So, upon returning to my place of temporary lodging after a performance, I would smell like Keith Richards. Only without the heroin tracks on my arms. Or the millions of dollars in my bank account and icon status.
One night, winding down after my show, I found myself online, perusing web pages that contained moving images of gorgeous women performing sexual acts. It was fascinating stuff, and I noticed that the more I browsed, the more my nether-regions started to tingle. If I may be blunt: the moving pictures of gorgeous women performing sexual acts made my pee-pee grow quite turgid.
Since I already had cigarette smoke caked into my pores, I decided that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to jump in the shower and wash off. I also figured that such a location wouldn’t be such a bad place to have what Kevin Spacey described in American Beauty as, “The best part of my day.”
I fired up the shower, and noticed that the showerhead contained several settings, one of which was “pulsating.” This was also the setting the showerhead was currently placed upon.
Well, those “massage” settings are always silly at best, or made for women with a little extra time on their hands at worst—wink-wink ladies—not men desiring cleanliness. I hopped in and decided to set it to a nice, normal stream.
What I hadn’t seen was that a chunk of the plastic was broken off of the nozzle, leaving a hole with jagged edges. Spinning the dial, my hand slipped and my thumb shot across said jagged, plastic edges, creating a lovely little gash spewing blood everywhere.
Now I had a dilemma.
I had an injury, and… let’s say “unfinished business.”
What to do… What to do?
Whatever, to do?
I’m not going to go into detail, but I will say this:
“What did Jesus do,
When they sentanced him to die?
Did he try to run away?
Did he just break down and cry?
No, Jesus dug down deep,
Knowing what he had to do-
When faced with his own death,
Jesus knew that he had to…”