As anyone who follows Deadline.com to keep abreast of important entertainment news no doubt already knows, the creators of the hit TV show It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and I are developing a scripted comedy series for Fox based on my okay-selling memoir, Living Loaded: Tales of Sex, Salvation and the Pursuit of the Never-ending Happy Hour.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Wow, Hollywood really has run out of good ideas.” It’s okay. I thought the same thing when the deal went down. I mean, c’mon — I’m a professional boozer. For the past 15 years or so, I’ve ravaged my liver and my reputation (along with a good many relationships) in the service of a booze-soaked byline. And thanks to the mind-altering qualities of the stuff I’ve long specialized in covering, I can hardly remember any of it. My career should serve as a cautionary tale, not as the basis for a prime-time television program.

But it is what it is. If Rupert Murdoch’s minions at News Corp (Fox’s parent company) think it’s a good idea to turn my life into a show, who am I to argue? Hell, I’d bet my collectable copy of the final edition of The News of the World that it’s not the worst idea they’ve ever had over there.

That being said, I’m realistic about just how slim the chances are of Living Loaded the series ever winding up on the air. (Particularly in light of what I wrote in the previous paragraph.) But I’m not sweating it because, frankly, having to produce a TV show week in and week out sounds like a lot of work. And I, for one, happen to agree wholeheartedly with Oscar Wilde’s assessment of work being the curse of the drinking class.

GUADALAJARA, MEXICO – The man I will come to know as the Pope of Tequila plunges his nose into his glass, takes a long, contemplative whiff and explains his job.

“I’m an ambassador,” Ruben Aceves says matter-of-factly, admiring the dancing caramel colors in his Casa Herradura reposado tequila. “I meet people like you, all over the world, educate them about the product and hopefully show them a new way of thinking about tequila. And drinking it.”

Though he works for no embassy, government or mission, Aceves is unmistakably a diplomat. A cultured, genial fiftysomething who bears a passing likeness to funnyman pundit Steven Colbert (as evidenced by the exclusive video below... stylishly shot sideways), Aceves has the kind of florid job title that would be the envy of any statesman: Ambassador and Director of International Brand Development. He works for Herradura – a 139-year-old premium beverage institution that hopes to seize a bigger share of the estimated $1.06 billion U.S. tequila market from the likes of Cuervo and Sauza.

For the record, Aceves thinks none too highly of his better-known rivals, whom he blames for tequila’s checkered reputation in America; specifically, that of a skunky, hangover-causing hooch best slurped off the body of a sunburnt coed.

“Back in the 50s, no one was buying their stuff down here,” Aceves alleges, surveying the clientele at an upscale downtown restaurant. “So what Cuervo did was ship it up north to America, fill it with artificial additives and colorings, and convince people to drink it in bulk. To do shots.”

He continues: “That’s not the classical tequila. We do it the right way. Ours is the best in the world. And tomorrow I’ll show you why.”

The Pope has spoken. I gratefully accept another glass of his reposado and await my conversion.