The Real King of Kings

Well, I'm the son of God, but some call me "Son of Man" because my stepfather was Joseph. I was born in Bethlehem, raised in Jerusalem, lived a life of mercy, good works, and abstinence (until I met Mary Magdalene). I died at the hands of Pontias Pilate, by way of cross. Actually, I didn't so much die as I passed out from loss of blood, thus giving me the appearance of resurrecting three days later. My "ascension into Heaven" was mearly my dad pulling me up to his place. I told him I wasn't dead, though. But I had to stay up in Heaven (which can get boring, playing poker with Joseph of Aramathea all the time), until basically everyone I knew and loved had died...which sucked to no end. Anyway, since then I've been globe-trotting, making new friends, and being the cool guy that waxes philosophical at keggers.