Hi, I’m Chris Farley. “Bad boy” of SNL. Star of everything from Beverly Hills Ninja to A Comedy Salute to Michael Jordan. “Fattest pig in comedy” and, before very recently: dead guy.
About eight years ago – to the day – I was relaxing at home with my favorite upper and my favorite downer. I got into coke because it helps us big-boned guys drink more and still digest our food. I got into heroin because it took the edge of the coke. I got into speedballs (like, really got into speedballs) because they are both coke and heroin combined. When speedballs really got into me however, I became dead.

For what felt like eternity but was only about 8 years, I sat there, in the abyss, floating around with lost souls like something out of The Road. I was about to give up and double kill myself but on the morning of May 3rd, 2005, I felt a force pulling me back to earth. It had a strong vulvic edge to it and I could tell from the smell it was a new life being born, a new life that needed a host.
Now, I know what you’re saying. You’re saying reincarnation is for fucked-in-the-head divorcees that got into spirituality because some East Indian with a boner took advantage of her post-traumatic stress disorder. Yes, that is true. The MAJORITY of people who believe in reincarnation are flakes but does that mean it’s not real? Reincarnation happens every day and you know it. If you’re so sure it’s not true answer me this: why is it not one of you skeptics been able to look me in my new eyes and say, “I don’t believe it”? Swear to god. Not one. I’ve received plenty of emails saying it isn’t so but when it comes to facing me, all you haters pussy out.

Anyhizzle, I’m over trying to prove myself and be Mr. Likedable. I don’t do drugs anymore. Not because my new tiny girl’s body couldn’t handle them (though it couldn’t). I don’t do drugs because I want to live. Drugs and alcohol are about flirting with death and let me tell you something, after being married to the bitch for almost a decade of darkness; death is not the kind of dysmal dancer you want to dilly dally with. Dig?

See you around!

Sincerely,

PS: Seriously. I can still go out for coffee and riff and be a bro and shit if you do see me around. I’m still funny as shit. For example, I do a thing called “Little Girl in a Huge Coat” that is just as, if not more funny, than “Fat Guy in a Little Coat.”

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