The Most Interesting Man in the World Knows he is Only Second Best

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Hello my friends. It brings me mucho pleasure to see you again. I hope that your summer has been wrought with pleasant faces, curved bodies, and of course, tasty beverages. Naturally, mine has as well. During the first few months of the summer, I have become a fan of the Washington Nationals, just to see what personal sports fan anguish is like. Truly, delicious.

But let me explain my purpose here today. You may be aware of my many exploits around the globe, ranging from San Juan to Argentina, Odessa to Moscow, Virgin Islands to many, many virgins. In all of my travels I have tried to remain inconspicuous. I have tasted to most pungent of fruits just to feel my nose hairs curl. I have inserted bamboo shoots into my anal cavity as a sign of personal strength to the mountain men that said I was too weak to do so. I have had the pleasure of sexual intercourse with a 300 pound woman, just to call myself a Wisconsinite. But never, in all of my experiences, have I seem a man that has humbled me as Purple Jesus has.

Let me tell you a tale, my friends, before the night moon waxes to a paltry glow and we must retire. A young man, a man with no fear, a chocolate skinned, radiant, muscular lad walked into a local drinking establishment in Puerto Limon, Costa Rica, a delightfully tropical port town on the Atlantic Ocean. He could not have been more than 13 years of age, but there was something in those eyes … those deeply pooled eyes that told me, this boy, this was no ordinary boy. He had seen the world, perhaps several times over, and I knew that after this meeting, my amazing story would just begin.

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I invited him over to my table in the corner and purchased a frosting Dos Equis for him. Yes, he was obviously underage physically, but his demeanor was that of a wise owl. My friends, I tell you, for 20 minutes we did not talk nor did we need to. We both were awash in the ocean breeze, the beating sun, and the fertility of the local female flavor. When finally the sun started to set, the young man rose, and without making eye contact with me said, “Please follow”. I obliged, out of respect for this amazing young man.

We walked for what seemed like ages. I have hiked through the Rocky Mountains with native tribes and scaled the sides of Everest with elder shaman, but I knew when following this young man that unlike those other trips, I was following the leader, my friends. The sureness of his steps, the conviction of his movements, they all amazed me. There was no wasted motion anywhere, from foot to hip to head. We continued walking until the moon was high above the ocean and my finely pressed suit was ragged and dusty.

Abruptly he stopped. He asked if we knew where we were. My internal compass put as 9.9 latitude and -83 longitude, south of our initial starting point in Puerto Limon. I told him as such. The lad looked at me and smiled, off putting me with my first awkward moment. He told me, “I need your help”. He bounded off to the chasm below our vantage point and fell what looked to be dozens of yards to a forested floor. Battling for foot holds among the cliff side, I followed after.

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Upon reaching the bottom, I almost made my first unintentional error; I stood in complete shock for the first time in my life. My wise old eyes fell upon a terror and beauty never before seen in a dozen lifetimes, but one which I promise I will never forget. The forested floor was covered in the blood of unicorns, and a towering, hirsute beast sickeningly closed his massive jaws around the neck of another innocent, majestic horned horse. I tried to vomit, as I thought this night would be time for many first, but alas, I still have that task to attempt to this day. The lad pulled me behind a tree before the beast could spot us and said simply to me, “Distract it.” Without another word, he silently slipped off into the dark. I was left to my own crafty devices.

Toeing lightly, I emerged from behind the tree to see the monster swipe at another precious animal. Several more animals were in the distance, distraught and seemingly not aware of which way to turn. I stood to my full height and shouted to the beast, “Good evening to you sir, may I share with you a tale of my most recent exploits inside of your mothers delicate flower?” The creature turned, and that momentary distraction was apparently all the boy needed as like a midnight lightning strike he burst through the bushes directly into the ogre’s chest.

My friends, what I will tell you next is no fabrication. As with many things in my life, the occurrence that I witnessed was truly remarkable and terrifying, but utterly factual. The child burrowed inside of the brute’s chest, disappearing for a full heart beat, but when he emerged, and oh how he emerged, the beast’s heart beat no longer for it was owned forever by the young man, now covered in entrails, sole possessor of a monsters heart.

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The creature fell and the young man stood in silence. I blinked, not believing what had just occurred in front of me, and when my eyes refocused, the boy was atop the most dynamic unicorn you had ever seen, bone dry and regal as ever. He nodded silently, turned, and rode off into the night, leaving my own weak knees to return my stunned body home.

From that night on, I knew that despite my exploits and travel, there was one other being on this planet that was capable of things far beyond even my wildest dreams. I have thought of skydiving without a parachute, deep sea diving without oxygen support, and beginning an intimate relationship with Susan Boyle, but in my heart of hearts I know that none of these things can top the excursions that the young lad I met, many years ago, has stamped his name upon.

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I thought he had been lost forever, or perhaps a cruel visitor during another forgettable night of hallucinations, but no. When I saw a slightly older face adorned in a purple helmet, I knew. The lad looked a bit older, wiser if possible, and more cultured than wild, but his eyes gave him away. And when I witnessed his deft movements around other predator like beings on the field of play it confirmed my suspicions. This athlete, this Purple Jesus, was the same individual who led me to the rescue of the most beautiful creatures ever. And I knew … I know … that he’ll continue to perform unthinkable feats that will forever shadow my career as the Most Interesting Man Alive.

Be wise and follow him. It will serve you well.

DosEquisMan

Stay thirsty, my friends.

PJD

About PJD

I once saw Paul Edinger kick a 56-yard field goal for the Minnesota Vikings against the Green Bay Packers to win a game in the Metrodome. It was exhilarating.

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