Jesse Lawder My Story

ONCE UPON A TIME, there lived a small tribe of aboriginal cave dwellers in
the south of Argentina. They did a little dance. They made a little love. Ten months later, a
star was born. This star's name was Jebus. But, three caves down some boring
midwesterners thought it might be a good idea to adopt this cranially superior (read: big
headed) infant, while renaming him after a more apt role model... perhaps a 19th century
American bank robber, or perhaps after Elvis Presley's twin brother. And so Jesse was
born.....

Jesse's new family didn't know much, but they knew they loved him. And that was, indeed,
all they needed to know (boy those Neville Brothers lyrics just don't have quite the same
poetic value in the past tense). Jesse grew up in Missouri, a far cry from the lavish cave
dwellings his Peruvian family inhabited. There were no stalagtites. There were no
stalagmites. Life was a daily struggle, and Jesse's outlook grew dismal with each passing
gun-racked pickup truck.

But Jesse found peace and hope in the most likely of places: the outhouse. (I'm not even
going to try to make that funny...) He grew up quickly, learning much from his surroundings,
which seemed as often as his underwear. Each passing year he grew more and more
restless, always yearning to return to the Chilean caves where he once cooed.
He eventually gave up that dream, preferring instead to stay in Missouri. Please do not
question this decision. He questions it himself with each passing moment. But
nevertheless, he gave up his Brazilian roots for the barley-and-hopps-world that was St.
Louis.

As Jesse grew formidable, he discovered something alarming that set him apart from the
rest of his kin. He sucked at doing things with his hands, knew nothing about cars, had no
chest hair, had was unusually eloquent speech for a midwesterner, and got hurt whenever he
tried to play sports. This was a problem. Not only did it alienate him from his foster family,
but gave him little to do recreationally during his adolsecence.

Faced with waxing boredom and more sour looks from the manly men around him, Jesse
turned to the theatre for salvation. This gave him something to do while not working on cars
or running around kicking balls. It also kept the sour looks at a distance, for the men in the
theatre were a special breed. They were even less manly than Jesse! More girly (not that
Jesse was girly, ... necessarily, .....), worse at sports, knew less about cars, and waxed their
chest hair. Jesse was suddenly the most butch and manly person in the room.

So it was proclaimed in the village that Jesse was to one day become the greatest actor to
ever sit on any throne. And that he would create a table for all actors to sit at, but to avoid
divas spiking one another with their stilletos, it would be a round table. There was some
more stuff, but I can't remember..... something about an actor named Lancelot stealing
Jesse's wife (I dont think anyone named Lancelot's going to be going after any women, let's
be real here...).

Jesse's story lives on... Keep checking in to see what that kooky character gets himself into
next!

... the end??