Brometheus took the gods knowledge of partying and gave it to humanity, and his punishment for this super cool deed was Zeus tied him to a rock so his liver could be eternally eaten by an Eagle! Except he was so sloshed at the time his liver was basically a sack of toxins, and when the Eagle went to eat it, this killed the Eagle. A couple centuries later Brometheus sobered up and was like "fuck man, how'd I get here? Where am I?" and got free and stumbled off into civilization, which had since grown from his gift of party to a degree beyond even his wildest dreams. And thus, he partied hard.
This has been a dramatic retelling of the secret origin story of Keith Richards, as told by a mildly delirious CJ.