Hitting rock bottom isn't what Simon thought it would be. Debt. Online classes. No friends. When he witnesses his girlfriend's infidelity, he has nothing else to hold onto. In a haze he gets in his car, a six pack in hand and no destination in mind.

Simon has a secret no one is ready to believe. On the side of the road, drunk and pissing on a large blue lighthouse, he found Jesus.

Literally. He literally finds Jesus.

This road trip of mutual self-discovery features a savior and savee whose codependency and inappropriateness are matched only by the insanity of their voyage and the growing list of people chasing them.

Simon follows his Jesus as they rob a mega church in Kentucky and battle a giant in West Virginia. Jesus gives a tour of and creates a civil war in Gettysburg. They burn the MET, take down the Statue of Liberty, and try to disappear in New York.

Simon isn't asking if God exists; Simon wants to know how long to follow, and pick up after, the God he's got.

Episode One: I FOUND JESUS

Verse 1 Jesus said, "I'll find him at the lighthouse." And the crowd that had gathered around him asked how much weed he had smoked, and after a long pull on a joint, Jesus looked out and said, "nobody believes shit these days."

My grandmother baptized me in the upstairs bathroom of the house we had on Oak Street. I can't recall why I asked her to do it; I didn't like the woman all that much. She scared me with her absolute commitment and hair that defied age and gravity. What I do remember was seeing the soap dish through the waterfall coming from the green Tupperware pitcher she held in her hand. I remember her hugging me after my sins were washed away, wrapping the towel around my head, and telling me about her pride. At the time the entire performance seemed like a good idea, asking grandma to dump water over my head, although for the life of me I can't figure out what I might have been thinking. To be completely honest, I'm not sure why it's important for you to know or why it was so significant in my life, but it is,

and it was.

That was the first major religious experience in my life.

* * * *

I should have left well enough alone; I should have broken my promise.

But it happened.

And I can't.

What you hold in your hand is the story of the year I spent with Jesus.

Take a second if you need to.

I know it's hard to believe. I do.

If I was you there is no way I would believe me, hell, if I knew you and you believed a person like me, I probably couldn't be your friend.

I would certainly judge you for it.

The truth of it is that belief is something I have never been able to understand; I could never let myself surrender to that brand of insanity.

I tried; I really did, and not just to get laid. But if there has been one theme in my life, it's been a general attempt to avoid madness.

I tested the waters, many times, but I needed proof, tangible evidence of being. None came.

I told myself there was no use in thinking about something that wasn't there.

I told myself that path offered no absolution.

Some people give their life to God at an early age, others when their life is nearing its end.

I found Jesus as I took a drunken piss against a lighthouse on the side of the road in Kentucky.

How I got there is another story.