The Reverend

I’m the reverend.

Just sittin’ in this here rocker waitin’ for the storm to hit.

Nice warm day out.

But, I let the wife take care of all the more pleasurable chores.

That’s why she’s mowin’.

I can’t fool around with any yard work or house cleanin’.

No siree, got too much rockin’ to do.

See, these days a man has to put his nose to the grindstone and meet life’s challenges head on.

Gotta think about bills.

Gotta think about the kids.

Gotta think about politics and the world situation.

It’s an important job.

But, I’ll take the responsibility.

A man’s gotta do what a mans gotta do.

After all, I’m the reverend.

Here We Go! (A collection of drivel...)

"Well you're built like a car; got a hubcap diamond-stud halo; you're dirty and sweet oh yeah…"

-T. Rex, 1971

She is a pitch black/clearcoat '71 Torino, Big Blue 429-4 Speed, bored and all Ford.

She is a modern day reminiscent of Eve, Delilah, and Cleopatra.

She is only 5'4 but her attitude is larger than life. It opens the door for her six feet ahead.

She is all of it, all the time.

She is an electric eel.

She is 100,000 watts radial, full FM Stereo.

She is a 200-ton nitro blast.

She is Hoover Dam tied in with Three Mile Island.

She is a Tony Iommi riff.

She is a wound, which takes months, years to heal.

She is Sigmund Freud's wet dream.

She gets what she wants but doesn't really want it.

She seeks something different from you, which the others never offer. Giving it to her will ensure your survival.

She seeks amusement. Constantly.

She is untouchable in the place you really want to reach: Inside.

She can be everything to some and nothing to others, but they are all intrigued by her just the same.

She seems to have never been born, just evolved over the centuries, as if she helped Hannibal get those elephants through the Alps.

She is a good friend until you really get under her skin.

She is a dove on the outside, an owl within.

She is a computer virus, taking over the mainframe and rendering it useless.

She is unpredictable in one sense: You can usually judge when, but certainly not what.

She makes you think but then won't let you.

She makes you whine hopelessly about her on paper and through cassette tapes.

She is difficult to impress. It's a great feeling to have her laugh at your jokes or antics; it doesn't happen often.

She sends all your meters into the red zone.

Don't assume she is not watching you at all times, her radar is fully dynamic, 360^o rotational.

Don't assume she forgets anything, her memory is superior to all.

Don't assume she does not have some kind of feelings for you, either, her heart is continually active.

Her transmitter is always on even though she may not be broadcasting at the time.

You are never quite sure how you feel about her, and whether or not it is safe and/or practical to act on your feelings.

You don't tell her anything. You convince her.