I'm at sea. I've been at sea for quite some time. We're headed towards Asia. Supposedly.
Most people who go to Asia go east. But we were at the Royal Court a while back, discussing a potential trip to Asia. And someone said something about the earth being round. And I said, "Okay. Let's go west."
I was joking. "Oh--the earth is round? Let's go west." That would be like me saying, "Oh--the earth is round? Let's dig a hole to the other side." It's a joke. Let's dig a hole to China. Let's sail west to the Far East. Those are jokes.
But apparently, everyone took me seriously--because when I got back the next day, they had an entire crew assembled, along with three ships ready to go. "Go west," they said. What was I supposed to do? I had to go through with it. I couldn't back out at that point. I didn't want to get executed.
So we're headed west. We've been headed west. The good news is, we haven't fallen off the edge of the earth. The bad news is, I have no idea where we are. How could I? What am I supposed ot do? Look at a map? Uh... Hello? No one's ever gone this way before. There are no maps.
But every day, someone comes up to me and says, "Um... How much longer till we get there?" How the hell should I know how much longer till we get there? I'm Christopher Columbus--not Nostradamus. What am I supposed to do? Look into my crystal ball?
This is insane. Someone said the earth is round. Why? "Because when we see ships come from the horizon, we see the top first, and then the rest of them. Therefore, the earth is round."
Yeah. I guess so. Or maybe some of it is round, and some of it is flat. Did you ever think of that? Yes, you did--but you sent me out to test your theory. It's your freaking theory! You test it!
And someone else said, "Asia might be a thousand miles that way."
Might be. It might be two thousand miles tht way. It might be two million miles that way. I might be two hundred days away from starving to death.
"Well--just be a pioneer and find out."
Be a pioneer? You be a pioneer! I'd rather be at home watching Gilligan's Island. I'd rather be alive.
And do you know what this is all about? You're going to love this. Do you know why we went to trouble of going to Asia in the first place? Salt. No--I'm not kidding you. Salt. They sent us blank miles this way--could be a thousand, could be a million--to get some salt.
And do you want to know why? Because King Ferdinand loves eating a pickle with his sandwich every afternoon. Yeah. It has to be a pickle. It can't be a cucumber. "No, no. I don't like cucumbers. I like pickles." He sent us five jillion miles this way to pass the salt.
What's wrong with a cucumber? Answer that question for me. What's wrong with a cucumber? I would kill for a cucumber right now. I would literally kill ten billion men right now for one cucumber.
But a cucumber's not good enough for King Ferdinand. He has to have a pickle.
Let me tell you something King Ferdinand. You better hope to God that I don't make it to Asia and come back with your precious salt--because if I do, I'm going to cut you up and pour about five tons of that salt right into your wounds.
I wanted to bring my girlfriend along. They didn't let me. Why? "Well, the other other guys might rape her." They might rape her. OK.
You know who's getting raped right now? Uh, let's see... All of us. We're all getting raped. All of us. Everyone on this ship. And I mean that literally. There's one guy that's raped almost half of us already.
"Well, just throw him off of the ship, and everything will be alright."
Throw him off of the ship, huh? Throw him off of the ship? He's our best singer! I can't throw him off. Throwing him off would be like throwing music hour off. I'm not throwing him off. I mean, he's really good. He can do showtunes, top 40, Al Johnson, classical. He's amazing.
And it's not just him. It's all of us. We're all raping each other. I've already raped like five guys. I mean, you put a bunch of guys in a ship for a really long time. What did you expect?
I don't know. I just need to see some land. It doesn't have to be Asia. Any type of land. Anything! I'd be thrilled with Gilligan's Island right now. I'd be happy to land on Detroit. Anywhere but this damn ship. The Pinta Mario. Or whatever the hell it's called. I'm losing it. I can't even remember the name of our ship.
Let me ask someone.
He said the Santa Maria. That son of a bitch. He asnwered me. Like I didn't know that. I'm the captain. I'm Christopher Columbus. I know what ship we're on.
I'm losing my mind. I'm losing my mind.
Oh--I should bring this up. I just noticed that I reached a hundred thousand followers on Twitter. I must be elated huh? Do you think I give a rat's ass about followers right now? I'm about to die. I don't care about followers.
You know what? If you are following me, unfollow. Go follow Magellan, Marco Polo, or one of those assholes.
By the way, if any of you know anything about the Atlantic Ocean--you know, any directions or anything--just send me an e-mail, tweet me, or something. I need some help.
Okay. I'm going to go for a swim.